❝ But the thing is, even if I could go back, I wouldn't belong there anymore. ❞ —C.C.Z.

   When I finally reached the Gryffindor Common Room, I wasn't surprised to find it empty. Though it was just Tuesday, Dashawn had canceled the lessons because of the Ministry examination we'd be having in less than an hour.

   I didn't realize that tears had welled in my eyes and had flown their way down my cheeks until I felt their salty taste in my mouth. I had finally accepted that there was no way out of this situation now. But saying goodbye to Hogwarts and all the people I loved was not something easy to do.

Mostly because it didn't seem like a goodbye, but a farewell. Would I come back here again someday? As much as I wanted to believe so, the closer the time of examination got, the less sure of it I grew.

  The portrait hole opened up and the sound of footfalls broke the noiselessness of the Common Room. I turned my head and saw Alex standing at the entrance, his face streaked with tear-stain trails. His cheeks were mottled, his grey eyes swollen and bloodshot. As he lifted his head and looked at me, my heart flipped down my stomach.

   I walked up to him slowly, silently. There were no words I could find the strength to say, even if I wanted to. I wrapped my arms around him as more tears escaped my eyes and spilled onto his shirt. My muscles loosened as Alex pulled me closer into his chest. I relived all of our memories in the comfort of his protective arms as he buried his face into the crook of my neck, his fingers gently stroking my hair.

   For a brief moment, my silent tears came to a halt until they stopped completely. Alex had this sort of calming effect on me—whenever I was with him, it was as if the rest of the world blurred away. But as much as the feel of his strong arms around me soothed me, my anxiety didn't disappear the slightest bit. If anything, it increased now as my mind swam with the thoughts of being sent away from him—probably, most likely, forever.

   "I'm sorry," I finally managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper.

   Alex pulled away and his brows narrowed slightly. I stared into his grey eyes, which brimmed with unshed tears. Then my gaze dropped to his full lips, which were parted as if he wanted to say something. But I didn't let him—instead, I stood on my tiptoes and did what I'd never before done, captured his lips in a kiss.

   "I'm sorry, Alex," I said again when I pulled back.

   "Polly, none of this is your fault," he whispered. "We never thought things would go this way. Don't blame yourself."

   I rested the side of my face on his shoulder and let out a deep breath. "I wasn't talking about that. I'm apologizing because . . . because . . . I don't want you to—" I trailed off, closing my eyes. A shiver crawled up my spine.

How was I supposed to word it? Alex was the eloquent one, not me. If I didn't know how to formulate a sentence the same way it came to mind, I didn't even speak.

I sighed again. "You should let go of me. I'll get sent to Azkaban and God knows when I might be out again."

If I ever would.

Alex stepped away from me and held my face in his hands, forcing me to meet his eyes.

"I know what you're trying to say," he said firmly. "Forget about it, Polly. I'm not giving up on you, and sure as hell not without a fight. I'll fight for you. We all will. The Ministry isn't getting away with this insanity any longer. You've started a revolution and we'll continue it."

"Alex, it's not as simple. This is not in your hand. Azkaban is—"

"I don't give a damn about Azkaban," he interrupted. "I don't give a damn what the Ministry has in mind. You are strong, Polly, and you're a Gryffindor. You will survive. I just know it."

I nodded. He was telling me what I hated to hear because he thought it was what I wanted to hear. Or maybe he was trying to convince even himself of the truth behind his words. But I couldn't find the power in me to disagree, nor did I want to.

Alex looked at me for a moment in contemplation, his expression unreadable. Again one of those typical mysterious looks of his that left me wondering what went on in his head.

"You know," he said. "I find it bittersweet that in a moment like this, we were both thinking about each-other. I was worried about you, and you about me. Instead of worrying about yourself, you were actually thinking of me. I love you, Polly, I really do. Sometimes I look at you and wonder how I ever became so lucky to meet someone like you. It's like you don't ever stop fascinating me."

My heart melted and I found myself wanting to burst down in tears more than few moments ago. So that's what he thought each time he looked at me like that?

He smiled once again and reached for my hand, interlocking his fingers with mine. "I have something to give you."

He let go of my hand and reached into his pocket. What he pulled out was a flower. Its type was unfamiliar to me, but its color was a beautiful shade of violet. The flower looked like it had just blossomed, and though it had probably been in his pocket for a while, its petals were surprisingly not crumpled. He must have bewitched it.

Alex took a step closer and lifted his hand to tuck the flower gently behind my ear. A shiver went down my spine.

"You told me once that violet is your favorite color," he whispered. "I've casted a spell on it so that it will never wilt." He reached for my face, his thumb brushing against my cheekbone. "Promise me you'll never lose it."

"I won't." I paused for a moment and bit my lower lip. "I love you, Alex. I—I know I've never said it before, and I'm sorry. You know I suck at words and this has been . . . uncharted territory for me. But I want you to know I do and . . . I want to thank you for caring about me."

A smile rose to his face. He reached for my hand again and ran his thumb over my knuckles.

"I know," he said. "And you've got nothing to thank me for."

Then he brought his lips to mine, kissing me one final time, slowly, softly, neither of us wanting the moment to end. We pulled apart as the portrait hole opened up. I turned to see Rosalinda walk in. Her face was pale as she took a step forward, her midnight black hair cascading around her features.

   Alex took a step back and turned around to look at her, his lips quirking upwards in a half-hearted smile.

   "Hey."

   "Hi, Al," she said, smiling back at him.

   For some reason, I started wondering how long their relationship had lasted. This was the most inappropriate time to feel jealous. But an insecure voice inside told me that once I got sent to Azkaban and perhaps died in there, they might get together again.

   Why wouldn't they? They were Quidditch teammates, classmates, on the same house. She was also Christine's closest friend. Maybe it would be better this way. After all, I wanted Alex to move on with his life and not grieve over my death.

   My thoughts were abruptly interrupted by Rosalinda's voice.

   "Polly, um . . . I thought you'd want to know," she said. "The Ministry officials are here."

   My breath hitched. A sense of dread built in the pit of my stomach and my head spun around so dangerously fast, I had to grab hold of a chair nearby in order not to lose my balance and fall.

   This was it then. Nothing more to be done. This was where it all ended.

   "Okay," I said. I felt sick.

Alex nudged at my hand and laced his fingers with mine. We walked out of the common room in silence, hand in hand, with Rosalinda following closely behind. The only time the silence was broken was when I asked Rosalinda where our friends were and she told me they were all gathered in the front courtyard.

   As I made my way down the hallways toward the Entrance Hall, I was certain everybody was glaring at me and making nasty remarks as they'd done when I went to Breeze's office earlier that day, but I was unfazed at this point.

   We finally reached the Entrance Hall, which was so overpacked with students, it was almost impossible to nudge our way through. Headmaster Dashawn was standing atop the grand staircase, immobilized, non-smiling, his bearing somber.

   I frantically searched for my friends' faces in the maze of people, trying not to meet anyone's eye.

   A frightened Stella suddenly emerged from the crowd and came running towards us. She ran into Alex's arms, buried her face in his chest and, without any warning, started sobbing. Alex let go of my hand and wrapped his arms around her.

   "Don't cry, Ella," he whispered to her soothingly, rubbing her back.

"I-I'm s-so scared, Lexi," she whimpered. "I don't . . . I don't want to leave."

I watched her trembling petite figure as Alex tried to comfort her and a flare rose up in my chest. This was messed up. No thirteen year old should ever have to go through the terror of knowing they'd be imprisoned.

"Don't be scared, my little princess," Alex said. His voice wavered. "You won't be alone. Polly will be with you. She'll keep you safe. Meanwhile, I will be fighting for you to get freed as soon as possible, I promise."

My stomach tightened. I wanted to curse my fate, to scream at the world till my lungs bled for showing no mercy for the young and innocent.

Suddenly, I felt a pair of hands grab my shoulders and I lifted my head to meet Christine's eyes. Her face was contorted into a miserable expression.

"You'll protect her, won't you?" she rasped. Her voice was harsh. "You'll try your hardest to protect her, do you understand?"

Not knowing what to say, I just nodded weakly.

"Polly, thank god we finally found you!"

Christine let go of my shoulders, and before I had any time to react, Sibi threw herself at me, hugging me like her life depended on it. When she let go, her eyes glistened with tears. I looked at Mike, who was standing next to her with the same crestfallen look on his face.

"We'll be with you, Polly, remember that," he said, enveloping me in a warm hug as well.

"I love you, guys," I told them. "You two are my best friends."

I couldn't say anything else because the appearance of three men by Dashawn's side caught my attention.

   "Are those the Ministry officials?" I asked.

   "No, genius, we're getting three new teachers," Christine muttered.

   I took a good look at the man in the middle of the other two. He seemed like the leader of the trio, partly because he was the tallest, partly because he was one step forward, making the other two appear like his two faithful shadows.

   He was a scrawny guy with a skeletal frame and too-long arms, clad in brown tailored trousers and a charcoal-grey shirt under a brown vest. Hollow eyes pierced out of his ashen face, his stringy black hair appearing greasy in the bright light of the lanterns that hung from the walls.

   The other two men behind him wore dark robes and black pointy hats indistinguishable from one-another. Their gazes were focused straight ahead and their faces wore no expression. They had identical bright blue badges attached to the front of their robes with the letters MoM on them.

"Attention everybody!" Dashawn spoke up, his wand pointed at his neck to enhance his voice. "Today we have the honor to welcome our guests from the Ministry of Magic. They are here for the Dolphinus examination of the century. Please welcome Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Advisor to Minister for Magic, Zico Peterson: Jeff Willard."

He gestured toward the leader, who raised his hand to wave at the crowd that gave a weak applause at his introduction. Dashawn's countenance was unreadable, but the way he barely glanced at Jeff Willard out of the corner of his eye showed he didn't look too happy to be welcoming him here.

"Ted Raymon," Dashawn continued. "Head of the Auror Office." Another faint round of applause rippled through the crowd as one of the men behind him stepped forward and waved. Ted Raymond was short, with a protruding stomach, unruly brown beard and nearly balding head. "And lastly, Bernard Dawson, Dolphinus executioner."

Something broke in me as he said those words. I lifted my head and looked at Bernard Dawson. His black hair drooped around his sunken cheeks, casting a slight shadow over his bulbous nose. But it were his eyes that made realization sink in, his bright emerald green eyes, so indistinguishable from mine that the more I looked at them, the more I felt like I was staring at my own reflection.

"When we erased his memory, he totally forgot that he too was, in fact, a Dolphinus." I shook my head to push away Breeze's words that resurfaced in my memory, but they kept on coming, like the flow of an unstoppable current. "Now he wanted to work hard to eliminate them . . . so he applied for the job of a Dolphinus executioner."

The reality was staring at me right in the face, and yet, I was pretending to be blind. My lower lip trembled.

"D-Dad?"