It was a gloomy night after the screaming match between Mad-Eye and Diana. Everyone had retreated quietly to their rooms, including Diana, until she heard a loud thunk from Harry's room.

She knocked on his door quietly, and there was loud bustling until it was yanked open. He stood in front of her, looking absolutely distraught and anxious. She walked in and he closed the door behind her, and she took a seat on his bed.

"I listened to Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, and Mad-Eye talking to Mr. Weasley today," he started, not entirely sure why he was telling her this. He hadn't even told Ron or Hermione yet. "They...they said he was possessing me." His voice cracked at the end and he practically slumped down to the ground, his back against the bed frame. She slid down until they were sitting on the floor shoulder to shoulder. "I wanted to leave," he said, glancing at the empty portrait of Phineas Nigellus on the wall beside them. "I wanted to leave because what if something happened to any of you because of me? What if anyone got hurt?"

In that moment, Diana really wanted to tell him about her father. She thought that maybe he'd be the only person who could ever understand. She wanted to tell him that she lives in fear every day that her father will come and take everything away from her.

"And do you want to know what Dumbledore said? He just said 'stay where you are.' He didn't say anything else. I hate this, you know? I hate having to live like this. I didn't ask for this." His voice had dropped to a pained whisper, his eyes trained on the dirty and scratched wood below them. "Why won't anyone tell me anything?"

Diana stayed silent. She didn't know what to say. She yearned to tell him about her, to tell him everything that he wants to know, for she knows what it's like to be kept in the dark. She knows what it's like to want to help but not know how. She grabbed his hand gently, knowing that this was the only way she could comfort him without giving anything away.

"I keep dreaming about this corridor," he continued. The words seemed to be flowing out of him in a steady stream, words that he had kept in for so long seemed to be spilling out of him quickly. "It leads to a door. Almost every night I have this dream."

She tensed for a moment. She had suspected he dreamed of the Department of Mysteries, for she did as well and Voldemort is so determined on getting in that it isn't a surprise Harry could feel his determination.

"I know what it's like," she said quietly. "I know what it's like to constantly be told you're important but not know why, or how you could help. It's bloody frustrating, isn't it?"

He just stared at her. "How is it that I've known you for almost half a year and I still don't even know your last name? How is it that I know nothing about you?"

She almost told him. She really did. She had even opened her mouth to answer, but the words died in her throat.

"They talked about you, too. In St. Mungo's. Mad-Eye sounded like he was ready to kill you, but Mrs. Weasley and Tonks kept saying things like 'can you blame her?' And they talked about your father. Who they hell are you, Diana?"

He didn't really sound angry. If anything, he sounded absolutely exhausted and he even gripped her hand tighter, as if he could squeeze the words out of her. But he couldn't. She stayed silent, not daring to meet Harry's eyes for if she did, she didn't trust herself to stay silent. She closed her eyes, watching the world turn a warm red under her eyelids. It was comforting.

"I can't tell you," was all she managed.

"Why not?"

"Because you'll hate me if you knew."

He just furrowed his eyebrows, not letting go of her hand. "I could never hate you," he admitted delicately. She couldn't help it; her breath hitched and she felt the urge to sob right onto his shoulder, to tell him all of her secrets and have him comfort her afterwards. In a perfect world, she might've.

But this is not a perfect world.

"You'll hate me," she repeated mindlessly. When she said it, it was laced with such heaviness; it was like she was revealing a deep secret. It was like releasing a wave of fear but only having it brought back in the tide. In this moment, she really understood Harry on a deeper level. She could see so much of herself in him: the frustration, Voldemort, and how they would give anything to live a normal life. She knew they were so alike, and she knew they'd need each other more than ever after this. They were the only people who knew what it was like to have their lives controlled by Voldemort.

"Before Dumbledore brought me here over the summer, I had lived at St. Mungo's for years," she said. It was unfair for Harry that he didn't know anything about her. She knew everything about him yet he didn't even know her last name.

"St. Mungo's? Were you sick?"

"Sort of," she said, absentmindedly running her thumb on the back of his hand. "They thought I was insane."

"Is that why you panicked when we got to St. Mungo's?" he asked quietly, turning his gaze to the floor again.

"Yes," she breathed. For some reason, she couldn't find it in herself to cry. She sat almost completely numb to her emotions. "They thought I killed my adopted family."

Silence. "Did you?"

She shook her head. "Death Eaters came one night. We were eating dinner. They blasted in the door and shot a spell at me. Next thing I know, I'm standing over my goddamn parents holding a knife and covered in blood. I was in St. Mungo's ever since."

"You didn't like your adopted parents?" he asked curiously, noticing her tone.

She shook her head with a look of disgust. "They were wizards. Lousy ones. He would hit me sometimes, when he was really angry, and she would spend her time completely catatonic in bed, living off of muggle pain pills. They were useless," she growled. He tightened his grip on her hand in sympathy. "There was nothing I could do. I was too young and too weak to stop it."

"Why did the Death Eaters come?" he asked, his eyes darkening and curiosity growing. "Hadn't Voldemort disappeared by then?"

"I honestly don't know. I think they were instructed to before he disappeared. I don't know why they did it then and not earlier, but I don't care. For as much as I hate Tom, I'm fucking glad he instructed his idiots to kill them."

It was a slip up. She didn't mean to call him Tom in front of Harry, and judging by his furrowed eyebrows, he had noticed it. She was stupid; she knew this was a bad idea, that she was so ridiculously stupid for telling him anything.

Harry on the other hand, was for the first time slightly frightened by her. He could see the pure rage behind her eyes, flickering like candlelight, a deep darkness swirling in her eyes like ink. There was a dangerous glint, like she was thinking things she shouldn't be thinking of. For the first time, she looked truly mean.

"Why do you call him Tom?" he questioned.

She didn't know how to get out of this. This was a secret she wouldn't tell him, especially so early in their friendship. So early in the war.

She opened and closed her mouth, her mind reeling with excuses. She nearly yanked her hand out of his and jumped to her feet.

"Wait, Diana—"

It was too late, and she was already out of his room and in hers, and she locked the door with a satisfying click.

•••

She didn't come out of her room until Christmas morning. No one could coax her out. Mrs. Weasley had just taken to bringing her meals up three times a day, not even trying to get her out anymore. They had tried everything, from having each teenager come and talk to her, to nearly forcing her out when Tonks came in and tried to throw her over her shoulder. Nothing worked, so Diana went to bed on Christmas Eve in complete solitude.

She woke up Christmas Day not even the slightest bit refreshed from sleep. The only thing that diminished her grogginess and emptiness was the large pile of presents at the foot of her bed. She hadn't gotten a Christmas present in years, and never in her life had she gotten this many.

She ripped them open as quickly as she could until she sat in the middle of a circle of presents. From Ron, she got a little replica of a golden snitch that only flew up to five feet away. The twins got her an assortment of samples from their joke candies that they promise they'd give her, and from Ginny she got a really pretty hat, glove, and scarf set since her current ones were old and had holes in them. Hermione got her a few books full of unusual and handy jinxes and curses. Mrs. Weasley knitted her a pretty black sweater with a large white 'D' on it, and she received a few other little things from other people. She had two presents left: Dumbledore and Harry. She unwrapped Dumbledore's first, and in her hand was a small black leather bag that had a long strap to cross over her body. A little note came with it, and it said:

This bag is charmed to fit anything and everything you could ever need, no matter the size. It's always good to be prepared.

A. P. W. B. D

Merry Christmas

She ran her fingers over the fine leather. She looked at her reflection in the silver clasp.

Next was Harry's is was wrapped haphazardly and indelicately, with a significant over-use of tape. She smiled lightly, and she ripped it open.

Inside was a black leather book. It looked new and clean, and it smelled of freshly printed paper. She flipped it open, turning the pages slowly as she peered at the contents. Filling the entire book were just pictures; pictures of Order members, of Headquarters, of Hogwarts. In all of them, people were smiling and laughing and sometimes walking in and out of their frame to meet with others. She noticed one of Remus and Sirius hugging like brothers, and one of Tonks changing her nose from a pig snout to a bird's beak and back, and she noticed one of all the Weasleys huddled together and smiling at the camera. There were tons more, filling up all of the pages until you couldn't see the paper underneath. She didn't even know when Harry had taken them, but she really didn't care. All she knew was that this was the best gift she had ever been given.

She ran her hands idly over the cover until she stood up and walked down the stairs quietly. She padded to the door, where she heard loud voices singing and talking, and she pushed it open. The room fell silent as they watched the nervous girl shuffle into the room and take a seat in an empty chair, not making eye contact with anyone at the table.

"Finally! I'm so glad you're here so you can try this amazing stew Molly made!" yelled Sirius jovially, in a mood much happier than she had ever seen him. At the sound of his completely normal tone, the room burst into talking once again, apparently taking the hint that now was not the time to ask her questions.

"Diana!" squealed Hermione, pulling her into a tight hug. "I'm so glad you're feeling better!"

She smiled weakly, and turned her eyes to Ron who was stuffing his face with food. Her eyes scanned Harry next, who was already looking at her with his eyebrows furrowed. She moved over to his seat quickly.

"Thank you so much for the book," she said sincerely in the most normal tone she could muster. "It was the best gift I have ever received." His eyes brightened considerably after that, and he gestured for her to take a seat in the vacant chair next to him.

"I'm sorry for whatever happened the other day. I didn't tell anyone what you told me," he said, moving his eyes to the table. She smiled lightly at him and pushed him on the arm, hoping to show that she was feeling better, even if he wasn't.

"Hey, don't worry about it," she said, "It wasn't your fault. I trust you. I just haven't been feeling too great."

"We should get going," said Mrs. Weasley loudly. Everyone got the hint and started filing out, bidding goodbyes and giving hugs. After a solid ten minutes of farewells, the group had been reduced to only the Weasleys, Hermione, Diana, Harry, Lupin, Sirius, and Mad-Eye.

Diana was asked if she'd like to go to St. Mungo's to visit Mr. Weasley, to which she quickly replied no, so everyone left, including Sirius who went to go feed Buckbeak in the attic, so she was left completely alone once again.

Later on in the day, she got a Patronus from Dumbledore asking her to meet him in his office. She floo'd over, immediately taking notice of Dumbledore sitting in his usual seat and Snape standing beside him with his usual cold expression on his face. She sat down and awaited one of them to begin.

"I need you to help Severus teach Harry Occlumency," said Dumbledore getting straight to the point. Severus gave a stiff nod.

"Why me?" she asked, shuffling in her seat to get comfortable. "Isn't Severus perfectly capable of handling it on his own?"

Dumbledore shrugged nonchalantly. "You're one of the naturally-skilled people in the field of Legilimency and Occlumency. You'll be a big help in teaching him."

"But I'm a natural," she said. "I won't be able to teach him because I was never taught."

"Trust me, Diana," he said.

She noticed that she had been doing that much too often lately.