The crackling fire cast light onto the faces of Isabel, Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

Isabel sat in front of the fire warming herself up.

Hermione and Ron were sitting on the couch, Ron's legs on Hermione's lap lazily.

Harry sat in the chair that Isabel usually sat in.

Everyone gathered in blankets after an intense round of "Snowflake Quidditch". Ron's invention of a one on one game of Quidditch in the snow.

Hermione was the "cheerleader" while Isabel was the referee.

It was cold, to say the least.

"Anyone have any good New Years Resolutions?" Ron asked filling the awkward gap.

"I want to get better grades," Hermione said, making everyone roll their eyes.

"Hermione, you're already top of every class! You can not get any better!" Ron cried, very exasperated.

"There is always room for improvement, Ronald," Hermione laughed.

"I want to have a calmer year," Isabel said, quietly.

Everyone nodded. They were just glad she was still talking and being social.

But, everyone was still cautious around her.

"Don't we all," Ron said.

"New Year Resolutions are lame," Harry yawned.

"Okay, so the Boy Who Lived is too cool for my game apparently," Ron joked.

"What's your resolution, Ron?" Hermione asked, her eyes twinkling by the fire.

"I'm going to get a haircut," Ron said.

Everyone burst out laughing at his lame resolution. Everyone except Isabel.

She wishes she could have laughed. Something in her shut down and her emotions didn't work anymore. No happy or sad. Just numb.

Ginny and Bailey walked into the common room laughing.

"Hey! No Slytherins in Gryffindor territory!" Ron exclaimed, pointing at Bailey.

Ginny sighed dramatically, "It's just Bailey! It's fine."

Ron mutters something to himself making Ginny laugh.

As they walked closer to the group Ginny pet Ron on the head as if his hair was a dog.

"Ewww, your hair is all wet," Ginny whined wiping her wet hand on Ron's face.

"We were playing 'Snowflake Quidditch'," Ron informed her while shoving his sister away.

"'Snowflake Quidditch'?" Bailey asked.

Ron told Bailey what the game was, in great detail. Hermione dozed off a couple times while he lectured.

"So you and Harry played obviously," Ginny said earning a nod from Ron, "What did they do?" She motioned to the shivering girls.

"Hermione was our personal cheerleader," Harry answered.

"A lousy one," Ron added making Hermione scoff and slap his knee.

"Isabel was referee slash score-keeper." Ron finished.

Bailey gave Isabel a sharp interrogating look.

"Dunno if you can trust her score-keeping," Bailey laughed.

"What do you mean?" Harry said, sitting up straighter.

"Well, she's obviously a liar and very wishy-washy," Everyone just stared at her. She raised her hands in defense, "Just saying." Bailey smirked.

"I'm sitting right here," Isabel spoke up.

Bailey shot her a look. She kept glancing down at her long sleeves as if she was trying to see through them.

Isabel tucked her hands inside her sleeves as if they got shy.

"Isabel was a fine score-keeper," Ron said.

Bailey nodded and tapped Hermione's shoulder and said, "Remember what I told you,"

Hermione grimaced.

Ginny, obviously embarrassed by her friend's behavior, pulled Bailey into her dorm room.

"Remember what?" Ron asked, referring to what Bailey told her.

Hermione just shook her head as everyone looked to her.

"I'll go," Isabel sighed, excusing herself.

Isabel had become a very popular discussion topic among students.

She was feared and hated by nearly everyone.

Death-Eater or not, nobody cared to notice who she actually was as a person.

Even her closest friends became skeptical.

Isabel had no one to go to anymore.

She was utterly alone.

-

Walking to transfiguration Isabel was shoved and ridiculed in the hall.

She tensed her shoulders to her ears trying to make herself as small as possible. Maybe if she was small enough, she could disappear.

Even her friends walked a few steps in front of her not looking back at her.

Isabel knew it could be easy to just tell her friends that she wasn't a Death-Eater and it could be the end of it.

But somehow it wasn't that simple.

If she said she wasn't a Death-Eater, they would ask more questions.

What did Hayden do to you before you dueled?

Why do you cover your arms?

Why do so many bad things happen to you?

Why have you been talking to Draco?

No matter what she said or did, there was more proof against her.

She was not a Death-Eater. But there was enough proof to make people think she was.

It came down to whether her friends really trusted her.

They could figure that out for themselves.

-

Harry returned to his dormitory from more discussions with Dumbledore and then trying to get to Slughorn.

It seemed hopeless, this endless quest Dumbledore sent him on.

To be fair, the only thing that's been on his mind this whole week was Isabel.

If she wasn't a Death-Eater, why doesn't she just say so?

It's all so sketchy.

Harry found Ron gazing at the moon while everyone else was in bed.

He suddenly spoke up.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Ron awed, "The moon,"

Harry cocked his head curiously, "Divine."

Harry went to his bed to see a box of chocolates completely devoured. Probably spiked with a love potion.

"Had ourselves a little late night snack, did we?" Harry laughed.

Ron suddenly felt defensive, "It was on your bed, the box." He explained, earing another chocolate, "I just thought I'd try one. Or twenty? I can't stop thinking about her, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes. Lavender Brown.

"Honestly, you know, I reckon she was starting to annoy you."

"She could never annoy me. I think I love her." Ron sighed in a dreamy state.

"Well, brilliant," Harry said sarcastically, knowing it was just the chocolate talking.

"Do you think she knows I exist?" Ron asked, his eyes hopeful.

Harry scoffed, "I very well hope so. She's been snogging you for three months."

"Snogging?" Ron said, incredulously, "Who are you talking about?"

"Who are you talking about?" Harry retorted.

"Romilda, of course." Ron said, as if it was as obvious as the sky being blue. "Romilda Vane."

"Okay, very funny." Harry laughed.

Ron quickly smacked Harry in the chest for laughing, "What was that for?"

"It's no joke." Ron cried, "I'm in love with her!"

Harry raised his hands in surrender, "Alright, fine. You're in love with her. Have you ever actually met her?"

"No." Ron's face fell, "Can you introduce me?"

Ron returned to his place by the window.

Somehow it made Harry upset to see his friend like this.

He is so desperate for love.

Yes, he had a love potion. But maybe he was really lonely deep down, and he really did want someone to love.

Harry set a hand on Ron's shoulder, feeling like he had to be a brother he never got to be.

"Come on, Ron." He said, "I will introduce you to Romilda Vane."

-

Harry and Ron found themselves at Professor Slughorn's door.

Harry sighed, anxious to face the Professor he harassed earlier over Tom Riddle.

He knocked on the door, "I'm sorry, sir."

Slughorn opened the door, "I wouldn't bother you if it weren't absolutely essential."

Ron looked around dumbly, "Where's Romilda?"

Slughorn raised an eyebrow, "What's the matter with Wimby?"

"Very powerful love potion."

"Very well," Slughorn sighed, "better bring him in."

Slughorn started to make the antidote to the love potion, "I always thought you could whip up a remedy for this is in no time, Harry."

"Well, I thought this called for more practiced hands, sir." Harry lied.

Ron came over to the two and hugged them from behind in his loony state, "Hello, darling. Fancy a drink?"

Slughorn nodded at Ron's offer, "Perhaps, you're right. A drink sounds good."

"I'm sorry, by the way, Professor," Harry said, his guilt getting to him, "about earlier today. Our misunderstanding."

Slughorn nodded, "It's okay boy, all water under the bridge, you know. Correct?"

"Well, I expect you're tired a bit, after all these years. And the questions about Voldemort."

"Don't use that name!" Slughorn scolded.

Slughorn handed Ron the antidote, "Here you go, boy. Bottom's up."

"What's this?" Ron asked.

"Tonic for the nerves," Slughorn said.

Ron nodded and drank it all in one gulp, wincing at the awful flavor.

Suddenly, Ron came to his senses, very confused, "What happened to me?"

"A love potion." Harry said.

"A bloody strong one at there." Slughorn added.

"I feel really bad." Ron said, holding his head in pain.

"You need to pick me up, my boy." Slughorn said, looking in his alcohol closet, "Got butterbeer, wine, dazzling oak-matured mead."

He pulls out out a large bottle, "I had other intentions for this, but I think, given the circumstances, it's fitting."

Slughorn hands out glasses to the two boys and fills them.

He holds up his own, the other two following, "To life!"

Ron quickly took a drink.

He then dropped to the floor as if he was pushed by some unseen force.

"Ron!"

-

Bandages clung to Isabel's arms covering fresh scars to avoid bleeding through her white blouse.

She was walking through the quiet hallway in the company of the moon.

This was the only time she had peace. By herself.

Much to her surprise, she found Draco Malfoy out of bed as well.

"Malfoy?" She asked.

"Lyston," He acknowledged her, "I actually wanted to talk to you."

"You did?" She asked, bouncing on her heels, "I thought I was supposed to 'leave you alone'."

Draco smirked slightly, "Yeah, well, I need to tell you something,"

Isabel crossed her arms and nodded, "Go on then,"

He rolled his eyes, "It's about Anderson,"

Her tough, joking demeanor disappeared as soon as it came.

"I overhead his father and Dumbledore discussing, and he is returning to school in a couple days,"

"A couple days?" Isabel said. She was suddenly aware of how dark the hallway was.

"He's not right in the head, Lyston," Draco said, looking at his feet.

"You think I don't know that?" Isabel laughed, a twinge of fear in her voice.

"More than you know."

"And why are you telling me this?"

Draco shrugged, "I dunno."

Isabel smirked.

"I've always got your back, Lyston. Okay?"

"Awww Draco, you do have a heart," Isabel smiled.

Draco smiled back, for the first time in a while, "Shut up,"

Quick footsteps were heard behind them.

"I hate to interrupt," it was McGonagall, "But I believe you will want to come with me, Miss Lyston."

Isabel just slowly nodded.

"As for you," McGonagall quickly turned on her heel, "I advise you to go to bed, Mr. Malfoy,"

"Yes, Professor," Draco said, and turned without another word.

McGonagall gestured to Isabel.

"Follow me,"

•••