The first thing Calla could see was red, burning behind her eyes. It wasn't the sort of red that comes with sunlight, when your eyes are turned towards it but firmly closed — it was the red of startling eyes she knew too well, of a torturous and painful spell, and of spraying blood. Her body ached, she realised, from her neck to her toes. Memories came back to her, terror searing into her chest. Cedric. Harry. Voldemort, in her mind, eight shades of him all around her. Bodies on the grass. Everything on fire. Her forehead burned in the place where she had been scarred so many years ago. Viricaptus.

Soft voices fell somewhere near her, and there was someone holding either of her hands tightly, one of them rubbing circles comfortingly over the back of it. Forcing her eyes to open, she got a hint of sunlight streaming through a window, falling on her skin, and saw it catch on dark hair. She opened her eyes fully, coughing, and the person on her right startled awake, head tilting up. Padma's eyes widened. "Calla!"

"What?" Harry's groggy voice groaned from her left. "Cal?"

She was in the Hospital Wing. Padma was here, Harry was here. She pushed herself up to sit, though someone pushed her down. Remus. Daphne was sitting next to her, eyes looking heavy, though Calla couldn't properly make her out; she didn't have her glasses, she realised. "You're awake," she said weakly, and a moment later seemed to launch herself at Calla, hugging her tightly around the chest. "Calla! We thought - we thought..."

"Miss Greengrass, please do not crush my patient." Daphne released Calla sharply, flushing as Madam Pomfrey bustled over. "Now, dear," she said, pushing Calla's glasses back onto her face, "how do you feel?"

"T-tired." Calla yawned. Her head felt like it was going to crush her body. "Heavy. My shoulder... Everything... Hurts."

"You feel warm enough, not too warm?" Madam Pomfrey placed a hand on her forehead and Calla cried out in pain as her fingers brushed over the edges of her scar. A flash of lightning toppling a tall tower. Pomfrey recoiled, staring. "Where does it hurt, Potter?"

She gestured feebly to her scar, hand shaking. It hadn't hurt that intensely in a long time. Her memories of the night before were foggy, they were already slipping away, and she couldn't quite separate the future from her vision, from the past of the night. Everything was just... fuzzy. Madam Pomfrey hurried away to her office and Padma tightened her grip on Calla's hand. "We've been so worried."

"Yeah." She shut her eyes again; it only helped a little bit with the pain. Her chest felt heavy, her lungs seeking to strain against her ribs. Voldemort's face flashed in her mind and she jolted, eyes flying open again. Everyone was looking at her cautiously, like she was a bomb about to explode. "Thanks."

She knew the expression Padma and Daphne had surely just exchanged but she didn't want to see it. Instead, she moved herself up on the Hospital bed and curled her knees to her chest, feeling suddenly chilly when she moved under the blankets. "Calla."

Her brother had left his own bed and was now crouched beside hers, green eyes wide and anxious. "What - what happened? Voldemort, he..." He seemed to struggle to find his words. Calla knew the feeling. "I couldn't get your wand."

"Oh," she said. "It's alright. I got it, I think." He looked at her worriedly. "It came in handy." Her throat felt dry and stung a little. She supposed that happened when you set fire to a building you were in. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he assured her, but she looked in his eyes and she knew he was not. "Promise."

She smiled sadly, and brushed his hand gently. Her breathing shuddered as she fell back against her pillows. "Did you... Is Cedric..."

"Professor Sprout has spoken to his parents," Remus said quietly.

"I..." she started, but she couldn't finish. The pain weighed too heavily on her chest and she wasn't entirely sure she could breathe if she said anything else. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, dear," Mrs Weasley said, and rushed over to Calla's side. "You've nothing to be sorry for, Calla. None of this is your fault, you understand? We're just glad you're safe."

"I'm not though," she said quietly, and Mrs Weasley looked at her in alarm. "Voldemort - he - he's back!"

"We know, Calla," said Remus gently. "Dumbledore is preparing as we speak. He had the Aurors there as soon as he could, he's trying to get word out already."

"Preparing? Preparing for what?"

"We don't know yet," Mrs Weasley said kindly. "But he's a great man, Dumbledore. The only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of, you know."

"I know." Tears stung her eyes. If Dumbledore was so great, how could he have let this happen?"

"He will want to see you," Remus said, "when you're up to it."

Calla nodded. She knew Dumbledore would want to question her, ask what happened, knew he'd make her talk about her vision and the graveyard and she still couldn't untangle her mind. It seemed all of her words had been used up already; she nodded numbly at Remus, and didn't dare protest when Madam Pomfrey gave her a vile-tasting potion to drink, or when she ran her over with her wand and demanded she remain in the Hospital Wing for another day at least.

"I don't know what to do about that scar of yours," she said in a hushed, nervous voice. "It looks almost new again, I don't want to hurt you by touching it." Calla nodded with a heavy head. "I can give you a Pain-Relief Potion for now, but I don't know what it might do in the long run. We may have to speak to someone from St Mungo's, I don't have very much experience with curse scars, and this... I'll have to speak to Dumbledore."

"A curse scar?" Hermione wondered aloud as Pomfrey bustled away yet again. "What curse?"

Calla shook her head. The Cruciatus and Imperius weren't supposed to leave scars, as far as she knew. Except when he'd touched her scar... "Viricaptus," she said quietly. Remus stared at her. "He said something... something like that. It formed this connection between us?" She shook her head again, massaging her temples. She regretted it when her finger brushed over her scar and pain began to burn through her.

"Pomfrey wouldn't let the others in for very long last night," Padma told Calla, "Isobel and Terry, all of us. They all want to see you. Everyone's so worried." They just wanted to know what happened, Calla thought, and she didn't want to relive it. She didn't honestly think she could. She shook her head. "We'll stay with you, if you want."

Calla grasped Padma's hand tighter and she seemed to take this as permission to stay. "Dumbledore's talking to the rest of the school," Harry told her. "We're to stay here for now."

Good, Calla wanted to say. She didn't want to face anyone other than the people in this room, not just yet. "He'll come and speak to you soon," Remus said quietly. "We'll stay with you if you'd like us to."

Calla didn't know if she did. She didn't know if she could bear speaking to anyone at all, but she knew she couldn't have everyone around her when she did. But she nodded anyway, as a sudden weight settled on her legs. She blinked, looking down, and saw Matilda lying there, staring at Calla with her wide eyes. "She and your owl showed up not long after these two did," Sirius said, nodding at Daphne and Padma.

"I think Isobel might have managed to send them to you or something," Padma said, and Calla smiled fondly, reaching to scratch Matilda behind the ears. She purred gently, settling down.

"Hello, sweetheart," she whispered, feeling comforted by the familiarity of her cat lying on her, a gentle weight.

"Calla?" The doors to the Hospital Wing had opened and Dumbledore was standing in the doorway, looking relieved. "Madam Pomfrey told me you were awake." She nodded silently. She wasn't ready for this conversation, couldn't have it here, not now. "I'm afraid I will have to ask you all to give us a couple of minutes." He was looking at Remus and Sirius as he said this; neither of them looked inclined to leave Calla's side.

"Are you sure?" Padma did not pose her question to Dumbledore, but to Calla, and she was grateful. But she still nodded. It would be hard enough talking to one person, she didn't want to deal with the extra questions of eight others.

She, Daphne, Ron and Hermione all got up and left quietly, looking nervously over their shoulders at Calla. Mrs Weasley fussed terribly as she left, too, and Remus gave Calla brief but tight hug before he led Sirius out of the Hospital Wing. "Harry can stay," Calla made herself say, and her brother gave her a grateful smile.

Dumbledore nodded serenely. "As you wish. Calla, I'm afraid I must ask you, as I asked Harry, your version of last night's events."

"I..." Her mouth felt dry and empty of words. "Well, I... I got through the maze alright. There were Acromantulae, I used the - there was some sort of - of drain... With Runes? I figured it out and it... the water got rid of them."

Dumbledore nodded encouragingly. "Yes, Professor Babbling confessed she hoped one of her students would figure those out. She insisted upon the Rune system's inclusion."

Calla nodded. It felt almost impossible to speak, but she managed it. "Someone tried to Stun Fleur, but we got away. I got through and I - I heard shouting and the Ac-Acromantulae again." She could feel herself shaking, and hear it in her voice. Her teeth knocked against each other. "But I could see light like - like the cup so I w-went towards it and sort of - I - I could feel there was something wrong and I knew to trust my instincts and I tried to warn the boys. We weren't going to take it! But something pushed us and I - Professor, I think I saw Moody and I know you trust him but-"

"The man you knew as Moody was an impostor," Dumbledore said heavily.

"He - what?" This new information boggled her mind. "Since when?"

"September."

Her mouth fell open. "Are you joking? All that time - he put our names in, didn't he? He was Voldemort's spy, the one he said was at Hogwarts! The one who told him-" She broke off into a choked sob.

"Please continue your story, Calla," Dumbledore said evenly.

"I..." She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Fleur got there just before we were taken away... Is - is she okay?"

"Shaken," Dumbledore said with a nod, "and her arm is injured, but otherwise she is as well as she could be in the circumstances. She was quite concerned by what she saw, and fought hard to raise the alarm with us."

"But she's - she's okay?" She wanted to be relieved, and she was, but she kept thinking of Cedric, his empty eyes, and she felt like she was going to be sick.

"She came to see us last night," Harry told her quietly. "Mainly you, I think. She was really worried."

She curled up under her blankets as Dumbledore implored her to continue. Moony gave a soft, reassuring hoot and flew down to land on her bedpost, sweeping out one large feather to hover over Calla's head protectively. "The cup was a p-portkey and it took us to the... graveyard and he - he was there!" The memory of that cold, high voice echoed in her ears. She choked, eyes watering, and pulled her knees even closer to her chest, shaking her head.

"Calla," said Dumbledore quietly, "I know you're scared. You have to speak to us. It's vital that I understand the whole story of what happened last night."

She didn't even bother to protest that she wasn't scared, because she was; she was scared in every inch of her, blood and bone and skin, her mind reeled with it and her heart beat uncontrollably and her chest tightened every time she let her thoughts go back to the graveyard. "He - he k-killed Cedric," she stammered out, cheeks strangely cold from her tears. "Wormtail. And then he - he took Harry and he moved me so I - I was at some - some statue and he tied me up and I - he b-brought him back and V-V-Voldemort, he brought the Death Eaters and-" She broke off again, tensing. "He told us e-everything. He-"

"Harry has told me what Voldemort said to you both," Dumbledore said quietly, "I want to know what he did to you." She could feel his eyes on her scar, scrutinising. "How he did it."

"I d-don't know," Calla said, shaking. "He tried to put the Imperius Curse on me, and I - I never really, I hadn't shaken it off, in class, before, I'd never been able to - I don't - I don't know what he was trying, trying to get me to do, I couldn't really... hear... and then he - he - he touched my sc-scar and it - it hurt and then..." And then. She couldn't speak anymore. The memory of her vision rolled through her mind, but her tongue seemed to be tied, and she couldn't make a sound.

"That was when she collapsed," Harry said quietly, and Dumbledore nodded quietly.

"I don't..." She sobbed. "I don't know why. He said it was because I was weak and he was strong. And that he was strong... Because I was weak."

Dumbledore seemed to consider her for a long moment before he spoke. "And after your brother was gone?"

She let out a sob and Harry grabbed her hand tightly. "I didn't mean to - I had ahold of you, but someone grabbed you..."

"I know," Calla said hollowly. "I know." But all she'd wanted then was her brother. "He said he needed me, that he knew of my - my gift - the Sight, was what he meant. So he - they bound me and took me to the forest and Voldemort t-touched me he g-g-grabbed my wrist and then-" She broke off, putting her head in her hands. She couldn't stand telling them, going over it again. "He was in my mind!" She could still feel his shadow there, lingering on her back and crawling like a parasite over her shoulders. She shuddered, cold rattling her bones. "And I s-saw things and h-he knows and Harry-" She shook her head furiously. She couldn't bring herself to say those words out loud. "I'm sorry, I can't. I - I managed to get away and run but I wasn't fast enough. I tried to fight it, and k-keep him out my mind but... He was there. And then I saw - I think it was a cave, and then some sort of room with this ring or stone or... He didn't like it. But I - I fought him. In my mind, I don't know he, I don't think he knows either but I did it. And then I was sort of blasted back but I - I couldn't get away and they moved to the - to the house and I - I had to get out and I was scared and I - I'd picked up a stone and this bit wood - I - I thought I could use it, I needed to use something and I - I set it on fire and I ran. And then he - he used that spell a-and the Cruciatus - I thought I was going to d-die and then Remus was there and S-Sirius and then I think I p-passed out and..." She took in a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. Harry handed her a glass of water and she sipped it, savouring the cool taste. "Then I'm here."

Dumbledore considered Calla in silence before he spoke, slowly and carefully. "I believe, Calla, that you like Harry here, have a connection to Lord Voldemort. You remember the diary in second year, how you felt it drain you? When you came face to face with Voldemort last night, the same happened, but ten times stronger."

"B-but he was in my head!" Now he'd been there it felt like she'd never truly be able to get him out, never be able to forget.

"Voldemort is a skilled Legilimens. You said he had to touch you to access your mind... Many are more vulnerable."

"But this wasn't like he could just see it, sir! It wasn't like our lessons! He was there, he was in my head! And I - it still feels like he's there." A shadow at her back, dread creeping through her.

"He is not in your head any longer," Dumbledore told her quietly.

"But it could happen again? Couldn't it?" She sat up straighter, gathering Matilda tightly up in her arms. Her hands shook in Matilda's hair.

"...Yes. Likely it will. But you mustn't be afraid."

"How can't I be afraid?" she asked in a shrill voice. It was a ridiculous idea, she thought. She was lying here, barely awake, still cold, and she was shaking and she was terrified. It seemed impossible not to be afraid.

"You are stronger and braver than you know," Dumbledore said, but she didn't believe him. If she was, she wouldn't have collapsed in a heap at a single touch from Voldemort. If she was braver then she would have fought him properly, rather than ran away. Rather than bowed. Harry hadn't done that. "Now Voldemort has realised this connection he will seek to use it against you; do not let him. Use what I have taught you, your Occlumency. Fight back. I admit I hadn't thought you would have to use it yet, had hoped you wouldn't have to put it into real practice this way..."

"You - you knew-"

"Voldemort has drawn your magic from you," Dumbledore was continuing on as Calla's mind reeled silently. "I believe that, the night your parents died..." He sighed deeply. "No one knew what Voldemort intended to do with you. He went after your brother, see." Dumbledore nodded to Harry, who looked uncomfortable. "He became the boy who lived, for even those who did not know the whole truth of Voldemort's reasoning understood that there was something special about him. But I believe that, in his desperation to live and to cling onto any life source he could find, Voldemort found himself inadvertently, perhaps even unconsciously, looking to you."

"Viricaptus," Calla murmured. Dumbledore flinched.

"I'm sorry?"

"That's what he said... The spell. I - and I think he used it a-again." She shook her head, feeling suddenly cold. "So he was looking to me for power?"

"Your magic," Dumbledore said, looking away from her now. "He latched onto it, leeching it from you to feed what little of his soul he had left." His eyes darted to Harry as though nervous about his reaction, but Harry only reacted the same way Calla did; numbly. "I believe this is why your magic is so insistent on defending you... You told me before, shields are your specialty. And many of your visions have been tied to Voldemort, haven't they? Your magic, though weakened, has been your greatest strength and protection. The mental barriers you have worked to put around yourself, I'm sure, have done much to save you."

"Wait so..." Calla's mind was still playing catch up. Again she struggled to get her words out. "The Occlumency... You were teaching me because you knew about this? You knew he could use this against me; you knew that he would!"

Dumbledore looked at her wearily. "Indeed, Miss Potter."

"And you didn't tell me?" Her eyes stung. He'd known about this, and he'd let her go into danger.

"Some things are best left unknown, until the right time... When they need to be known."

"I think I needed to know before he almost killed me!" She was shaking even more now; Matilda leapt off of her and onto Harry, who was staring at her.

"Calla, you must understand. Voldemort can use your magic against you-"

"I barely have any magic."

"No," he said, "you do. But you must learn to control and wield it properly."

"And you don't think you could have told me this?" she asked, cheeks blazing. She had found her voice suddenly, and it wasn't just scared but angry, too. "You could have explained properly! Before now!"

"And would it have made any difference to you last night? Knowing what Voldemort can do to you? I did not want to scare you."

"I was scared last night," she said quietly. "I was terrified." She took in a deep breath, trying to stop herself from crying or screaming, because she told herself she had to be rational talking to Dumbledore. He was looking at her in pity and she didn't like it, didn't want his pity when he had let this happen. "I could have died. Because I was powerless and because... Because you didn't tell me the truth. You wanted to teach me Occlumency to defend myself against Voldemort but you - you didn't explain how, or why. You... You let me do this. You let Pettigrew get away last year. You wanted to see what happened!"

"Voldemort's rise was inevitable." Dumbledore's eyes had lost their warmth. Harry seemed to have lost his voice too now, and was staring between the two of them.

"So you admit it." Calla let out a hysterical laugh, eyes burning as she lost control of what she was saying. "If I'd have died it wouldn't have made any difference to you, would it? You said Harry was the key, Harry was the one who - who could defeat him, fight him."

"Calla..."

"No, Harry." Her chest shuddered as she looked at Dumbledore. "I'm the one he can use and then kill and you... You would too. You'd have let me die. You almost did!"

She was angry, yes, but she was tired too, and she found herself... Wanting to hurt Dumbledore. Wanting to upset him, because maybe that would get through to him, and there was a part of her that wanted to lash out at him. But she didn't expect to look into his eyes and see such a sadness there, and see them shining, as though with tears. Her stomach plummeted and she caught Harry's horrified gaze.

"I'm sorry, Professor," she said quietly. "I didn't mean to..."

"I would not let you die, Calla," Dumbledore said softly. "I am sorry for not telling you the truth earlier, but I did not know how you would react, nor if it would even help. And I did not want to hurt you."

"He hurt me," she said simply, but the anger had left her suddenly. Now she just felt empty. "I'm sorry, Professor. I'm... Tired."

"Understandable," said Dumbledore, "given the circumstances." He stood up and looked at her gently. "I will leave you now. But Miss Potter... Should you wish to continue Occlumency this term, my office will be open on Friday evening." He nodded gently to her as he departed, leaving Calla to shake on the bed, horrified and terrified. "Sleep well."

"Calla," Harry started, but she just shook her head, taking Matilda back from him. "I think he should have told you."

"Yeah." She stroked Matilda gently, holding her to her cheek. "He should have."

The door opened again and everyone came back in noisily, chatting to each other and asking Calla what she'd spoken to Dumbledore about, what he'd said. She could only half-listen. She felt exhausted, and gave only half-hearted explanation before Madam Pomfrey hurried over and shooed them out, leaving Calla with only Harry and Remus.

She wanted nothing more than to leave, but there was nowhere else she could go. The thought of going into the Ravenclaw Common Room, frankly, terrified her.

So she said quietly, hoping she could prolong the moment when she'd have to explain everything to everyone else, "What happened... with Moody?"

Harry sighed, and glanced at Remus. He didn't look like he felt much like talking, either. But he did, and Calla was immensely grateful. "When we... When we got back from the graveyard, we came back to the front of the maze. Everyone - it was terrible. And Amos Diggory was coming over and I had to tell someone, I had to make sure they knew where to go to find you and Dumbledore was talking to the Diggorys and Moody - well, not Moody, I thought it was Moody - took me away. But it wasn't Moody. It was..." He looked at her nervously. "It was Barty Crouch's son. The other Barty Crouch. He was the one who had broken into Snape's office that night, see, the map doesn't lie. And he..."

"He was lying," she said quietly, "when he said he couldn't see Crouch on the map. I knew... I knew he wasn't being honest about it. What did he do with him?"

"He killed him," Harry told her quietly. Calla was slightly disturbed to find that she wasn't surprised. "He Stunned Krum, too. And he cursed him in the maze, I didn't quite get to explain but he tried to torture Cedric - Krum did, under the Imperius Curse - and he tried to Stun Fleur but he said you got in the way in the maze." Calla felt only a little spark of triumph in her chest. It hadn't made a difference, not really, but she'd stopped at least part of his plan. "He was behind it all, Calla. Putting our names in the Goblet, trying to help us through the tasks..."

"Of course," she breathed. It all made sense. "And of course we wouldn't suspect, we knew Dumbledore wanted him to keep an eye on us, too." She shook her head, coming to her senses. "And Dumbledore didn't see through it." How? How, if he was the greatest sorcerer of all time, if he was so brilliant, if everyone was supposed to trust him, follow him, then why had he failed her? Why had he failed to protect them? Why had he let this happen? How could she trust him again, after this?

"Right," Calla said hoarsely to Harry, "run this Crouch business by me again. How - Sirius said he died in Azkaban?"

"He didn't," Harry said, "his mother did. They swapped places, and his father kept him hidden for years and the house elf - Winky, remember - had to look after him. But Bertha Jorkins had seen him, and she was captured in Albania-"

"I knew it," Calla muttered bitterly. "I told them!

"I know," Harry said bitterly. "Bertha told Voldemort, and he and Wormtail went there but before that, Winky had convinced Crouch to let his son go to the Quidditch World Cup. He stole my wand in the Top Box, hidden by an Invisibility Cloak, and he sent up the Dark Mark. Crouch saw him, he knew and he sent him home and sacked Winky and then Wormtail showed up and cursed him and from there..."

"So he's been masquerading as Moody all year?" Calla asked, appalled. "And Dumbledore didn't realise?"

"He was very clever about it," said Remus quietly. "Acted just as Moody would, kept him in a trunk all year. He's been taken to St. Mungo's."

"Jesus," Calla said, staring. "I... Jesus. Where's he now? Crouch, the son, that is?"

"Well." Harry and Remus exchanged a glance and Calla knew immediately that she would not like the answer they gave her.

"They gave him the Dementor's Kiss."

"Already?" she asked sharply. She couldn't say he didn't deserve it, but she hadn't expected it to be so soon... Another one without a trial. And he should have had a trial. He should have been made to admit to the horror he'd caused and face the consequences.

"Fudge brought the Dementor with him. He thought it was all nonsense, that Crouch was mad, just - just thought he was acting on Voldemort's orders. He doesn't believe he's back."

"But he is," Calla said, head spinning. "How can't he-"

"No one but you and Harry yet know the full truth," Remus reminded her gently. "When we saw that house on fire, we came running - Harry said you were in the graveyard, and when we didn't see you at first it was terrifying - but the Death Eaters had scattered."

Calla winced. "That was the plan. I didn't think... Well, obviously you'd need to have seen... But they were there!"

"And the evidence points to it. There just isn't enough for Fudge to do anything about it, apparently. He doesn't want to get people in a panic when they might not need to."

"But - but he's out there! He's back! People need to know!"

"We're working on it," Remus told her softly. "People will know. It will just be harder if Fudge won't back up the truth. But the Aurors were there, too. There's no denying that something happened and the Death Eaters were involved... It's just a question of how far we are willing to go and how much people are willing to believe. I trust that the Aurors won't let this die, Calla." He swallowed and looked down. "We did capture Peter, though."

"Oh," was all Calla could say. "Well, good. What have they done with him?"

"Already in Azkaban. He denies everything, of course. Sirius doesn't know what that means for him - he's gone home on Dumbledore's orders now, but he wanted to see you wake." Gently, he pushed the hair off her face. "All anyone else saw was Harry and Cedric Diggory."

"But - but he didn't even hear what we - what we..." Her words died in her throat. "What does Fudge think happened?"

"He believes the Death Eaters acted of their own accord, as they did at the World Cup. That while they may be causing disruption again, their master is still dead." Disruption? The word echoed in Calla's head. Was that all this was to other people? Harry's trauma, Cedric's death, her abject terror? Just disruption. "He says he can deal with their threat... He doesn't want to admit to the threat he can't handle. He doesn't seem to think Harry's word is particularly reliable, and he accounted for your state as..." He trailed off and Calla raised her eyebrows. "Instability."

"Instability?" She frowned, pushing hair behind her ear.

"I haven't seen the Prophet today," Harry said, "who knows what they're going to report."

"After the past year, I would hope the world would be more alert to the threat... But you never know. Even Fudge... Well, Dumbledore says he's scared. He won't admit Voldemort's back because he's afraid of what that means."

"So am I," Calla said quietly, "but that doesn't mean I... ignore it."

"I know," Remus said. "But we're doing something, Calla." He lowered his voice. "Dumbledore's reforming the Order of the Phoenix. It's a group that fought Voldemort in the last war... We were all a part of it, Sirius and James and Lily and I." He swallowed deeply, looking pained. "And Peter."

"I think you told us about it," Calla said, trying to recall something, "you mentioned there was a whole group of you, your friends, who fought him."

Remus nodded. "Sirius has already gone, working on reforming. Bill's with him, he's in contact with Arthur Weasley, finding people in the Ministry. He's near to Fudge, so..."

"You're doing something," Calla said faintly, and fell back against her pillows. She felt tired again, and her chest was heavy. "Good."

"Do you have to sleep again?"

She nodded silently, and Remus got up, speaking quietly to Madam Pomfrey, who hurried over. "Now, dear," she said, fussing over Calla, "you can rest for now, I daresay you need it, but I'll have to wake you in a few hours for some medicine."

Calla nodded, and squeezed her eyes shut. It seemed to burn. "Do you know what's wrong with my scar?"

Pomfrey pursed her lips and Calla knew she didn't. "I will," she told her. "Here, have this." She held a purple potion to Calla's lips. "Dreamless sleep."

Calla hadn't even thought of that, but now she felt a rush of gratitude for Madam Pomfrey as she took the potion. She felt tired immediately, but in a warm, pleasant sort of way, rather than feeling like she was on the brittle edge of falling apart. She smiled at Harry and Remus, and she was sure she said something but she wasn't sure what, when her eyes drooped closed and she fell into a sound, silent sleep.

It was a little dimmer in the Hospital Wing when she woke up. Harry had gone, but Remus was still there and Padma and Daphne had both returned, along with Mrs Weasley, who was speaking concernedly to Madam Pomfrey. "There you are, Potter," Pomfrey said gently. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit better." Calla smiled weakly at her and her stomach gave a loud rumble. "Hungry."

"I hoped as much." Pomfrey smiled, and Mrs Weasley seemed most pleased to hear that Calla had an appetite. Madam Pomfrey already had a tray of delicious-looking food as she hurried over to Calla. "Have this first, before your potions." There was a very large bit of chicken, roast potatoes and even Yorkshire puddings. "Just eat what you can, but if you're still hungry you can always have seconds. The rest of the students are at dinner. Well," she nodded to Daphne and Padma, "except for these two."

"We weren't that hungry anyway," Daphne said, though Calla knew she probably was. "And Mrs Weasley has some really funny stories, so does Remus. Who knew our old teacher was such a rebel?"

Remus smiled at her. "We've all been young once."

"Yeah, but we haven't all charmed Professor Snape's hair ginger for a week!"

"You never told me you did that!" Calla looked at Remus, and found herself laughing.

"It wasn't quite our finest moment," Remus said, though he looked almost fond at the memory. "And he wasn't a professor in those days, Daphne. He was a student just like us."

"Still cool, though." Daphne grinned.

"I thinks she's already thinking about a sequel," Padma whispered in Calla's ear, and she smiled wanly.

"I could take it a step further. Polyjuice in his morning tea; Izzy'd go for it."

"That's just weird, Daphne," Padma argued, "and it would only last an hour anyway."

"Of course, you'd know." Daphne raised her eyebrows and Padma laughed and Calla had some chicken and it was lovely and for a moment it felt normal again. She tucked into her dinner while Remus and Mrs Weasley chatted about their school days, and Daphne and Padma discusssed their exams. When she was finished eating, Madam Pomfrey gave her another potion which tasted horrid and quickly wiped the taste of her dinner from her mouth. "I know, I know," Pomfrey said. "But it's what's best for you, gets your strength back. Can you stand up for me?"

Calla thought that was a silly question, but when she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and put them down, she found them already shaking. With a nervous glance at Remus, she heaved herself onto wobbly feet, grasping the bedside table. "Yup," she said, rather unconvincing.

"Can you walk?" She took a few tremulous steps. "That's alright. We'll give the potion a little while to kick in."

Was this what Dumbledore had meant? That Voldemort had sapped her strength from her, was perhaps still doing so? She sat back down on the edge of the bed, feeling suddenly like she was about to cry. Her lip wobbled as she said, "I want to go back to sleep."

"I'd rather you stay awake, at least for a short while," Pomfrey said worriedly. "Say, half an hour?" Calla looked up at her pleadingly. "Half an hour, Potter. If you're still tired, you can sleep again."

Calla nodded numbly. Half an hour, she could do that. "If you'd like," Pomfrey added, "you could go back to your dormitory tonight and I can arrange to administer your potion after breakfast."

She shook her head adamantly. "I'd rather..." A lump stuck in her throat. "Stay here. For now."

Pomfrey nodded in understanding. "Very well. Miss Greengrass, Miss Patil, could I ask the two of you to fetch some of Miss Potter's things from her dormitory. Clothes, her own pajamas - perhaps you'd like a book to read?"

Calla nodded. "I'm not sure which one."

"We'll find something," Padma assured her with a quick hug. "Be back soon."

The two hurried out, whispering to each other, and Calla tried not to regret not going. She didn't want to face everyone else just yet, but she'd have liked to stay with them; their presence was always comforting. "I really should get home," Mrs Weasley said anxiously, "Bill and Arthur will be waiting, and Percy..." She trailed off, looking at Calla.

"I'm fine, Mrs Weasley," she assured her. "Really. You should get back to your family. But thank you, for - for staying today."

"Oh, sweetheart." Mrs Weasley hurried over to sweep Calla's hair out of the way and kiss her gently on the forehead, careful to avoid her scar. Calla could have cried at that alone. "We'll see you this summer, you're welcome anytime - all of you." She looked at Remus as she said this. "Look after yourself."

"Course," Calla said weakly, smiling up at her. Mrs Weasley hovered fretfully for a moment before she left, and Calla slumped back tiredly.

Padma and Daphne returned a few minutes later, not only carrying clothes and a book, but also a pile of sweets and chocolate. "Everyone gave us something," Daphne said proudly, dumping an array of goodies on Calla's bedside table. "Even Lisa and Michael."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Terry wanted us to bring this old Muggle book to you. He said he'd offered to lend it to you at some point but hadn't yet. And he gave us a lot of sugar quills."

Calla squinted to see the cover. "Is it The Hobbit?"

"I think so," Daphne said, frowning at the cover. "What is a hobbit?"

Calla just shook her head fondly as she took the book, its worn cover and pages. "Muggle Studies. Sort of."

"Well, I'll have to ask Professor Burbage about it," Daphne said.

"You've got sugar quills and chocolate frogs and I think these are pumpkin pasties? And Honeydukes chocolate and some liquorice wands and Berty Botts' Beans."

"Pass me a sugar quill," Calla said, and Padma obliged with a smile. They ate in silence for a while but Calla could tell Padma and Daphne were bursting to ask her questions, ones that she couldn't answer yet.

"Do you know when you'll get your results yet?" she asked, so that they couldn't ask her anything.

They both exchanged a worried glance. Padma spoke. "Wednesday, Lisa reckons, but we're not sure. It doesn't really matter anyway."

"It does," Calla said quickly. "They're important. We've got our O.W.L.s next year after all, haven't we?"

"Well, yeah," Padma said. "But... There are more important things."

"What does everyone else think of the exams?" Calla asked quickly. "You barely said anything about History of Magic."

"Terry thought it was easy," Daphne said, going along with it easily, though Padma gave her a look. "But that's Terry. The bit about the hunts was good, I know a lot of that. Lisa freaked out."

Calla chuckled weakly. "I can imagine."

"But I think we've all passed. I have, anyway, and Padma and Terry. Isobel's Isobel, she'll pass if she wants to." Calla smiled. "Turpin'll probably pass too. To be honest... yeah. We all have, I think."

An awkward silence lingered in the air. Calla offered Remus, who had been watching this conversation with a quiet interest, a chocolate frog. The door opened a few silent moments later, and Harry popped his head around, followed by Hermione and Ron, who both looked anxious. "You're awake again." Harry hurried over. "Madam Pomfrey made me have dinner with the rest of the school. Do you feel better?"

"Do you?" Calla asked in reply, and Harry smiled grimly. "Yeah."

"Harry told us what Dumbledore said," Hermione said. "About your scar, and You-Know-Who."

"What did he say?" Daphne asked Calla sharply.

She didn't have the energy to glare at Harry, but she didn't have the energy to answer Daphne, either. "I'll tell you later," she said wearily, and though she knew no one had been satisfied with that, she determinedly turned the tide of the conversation and kept it away from herself until Madam Pomfrey ushered everyone but Remus and Harry from the ward at eight o'clock to let Calla sleep.

"You two can stay here," she said, though Remus was getting to his feet.

"I ought to get to Sirius," he said. "Dumbledore... Has asked some things of us." He gave Calla a smile but she saw right through it. "I'll see you again soon."

She nodded, and he hugged her tightly. She almost cried again, but she was too tired, so she just hugged him back for a minute before he let go. "Look after each other," he told her and Harry, fastening his cloak. He looked like he had more to say, but was afraid to say it. He squeezed Harry's shoulder tightly, said something quietly in his ear, and with a final, strained smile, left them alone in the ward for the first time.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Harry asked her quietly after a few moments of silence. Calla shook her head and he nodded, grasping her shoulder. She winced in pain. "Yeah. Me neither."

"I'm so tired," she said weakly, feeling her eyes as her tears spilled over properly for the first time all day. "I can't... Harry, I'm scared."

"Me too," he admitted in a small voice. "I think- I don't know. Everyone seems to think I shouldn't be, but I am. You - you terrified me last night, Calla. I thought-" His voice broke off but somehow Calla knew what he was going to say, and she reached over to his chair to hug him tightly, as fiercely as she could manage. "I thought you were dead."

"But I'm not," she said, though all she could think was, but you might be, and the only image in her head was from her vision, Harry cold and pale on the ground. "I'm not, Harry, and you're not, and we..." She didn't know what. She didn't know what to say or what to do, except hug her brother tighter and hold him closer and hope they could stay there forever and forget the world that was set against them.

"I'm sorry I keep arguing with you," she mumbled into his shoulder.

"It's okay," Harry said. "I know I've ticked you off a bit."

"Yeah, but I've gotten disproportionately ticked off," Calla told him. "I don't like fighting with you." She squeezed him tightly before withdrawing, on the edge of the bed. "We're alright?"

Harry gave a small smile. "Course we're alright." And he looked relieved, just as Calla felt. She smiled.

"Good. I need to sleep."

Harry chuckled. "Night, Calla."

She sighed and smiled back at him, as much as she could. "Night, Harry." She paused, words hanging unsaid in the air between them. "I love you."

She could see him smiling faintly through the darkness. "I love you too, Cal."