In Hermione's arms, Violet was still awake, though her vision was blurred and hazy. Everything she saw looked bleak. Her body fought to stay conscious, but with every passing second, it felt more like giving in.
She felt cold. Not like a rainy morning chill, but hollow—sad. As though all the warmth in the world had been drained away, leaving only endless, empty darkness. She could feel Hermione's trembling body holding her tight. She wanted to tell her friend to run, but her lips wouldn't move, her body wouldn't respond. Only her eyes still worked, though the light within them dimmed moment by moment.
The darkness felt like it was coming to take her away. She didn't want to go. She wanted to see her parents again. Her brother. Her family. She wouldn't even get to say goodbye. She wouldn't get to see her brother's first Quidditch match. She was sorry—so, so sorry.
Her eyelids were heavy, ready to close, when she saw movement in the doorway.
A professor? For a fleeting second, she felt hope. But then she realized it wasn't a teacher—it was another student. And in that moment, that fragile hope began to fade… until she recognized him.
Noah.
Her eyes slipped shut, but hope sparked again, burning brighter than before.
She knew she would be fine.
...
The darkness was… comforting. Calm. Peaceful. As if worries no longer existed.
No pain from living in fear.
No loneliness from lacking true friends.
No life defined by a tragic past.
No Voldemort.
No torment.
No bullying.
No troubles, no matter how small.
The darkness was peaceful.
She felt herself sinking deeper and deeper into that void, so far she wondered if she'd ever return.
But then—she felt something. Saw something.
In this frozen, silent world, there was light. And with it, warmth.
Like a flame igniting, guiding her out of the abyss. And that flame—it felt familiar. Like a butterfly of fire.
Yes… I can't go yet. He still has to teach me that thing with fire. I'll make him promise.
She reached toward the light. The darkness fell away. The warmth wrapped around her. The silence shattered, replaced by the sound of quiet sobs.
When Violet opened her eyes, a man and a woman stood before her.
"Mom… Dad…" she whispered, her throat dry.
"It's all right, sweetheart. Mom's here." Lily's voice was soft, soothing.
The comfort of her parents was undeniable. But suddenly Violet remembered—
"Hermione!" She tried to sit up.
"She's fine," Lily said gently, keeping her from rising.
"Your friend is well. She was released days ago," James added, sitting at the edge of her bed.
Violet relaxed at last. Knowing both of them were safe let her breathe again.
Just then, Harry entered the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey nearly threw him out before realizing who he was.
Harry rushed to her bedside, gripping his sister's hand. The image of her lying on the floor in a pool of blood still haunted him.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly.
"It wasn't your fault." Violet squeezed his hand back.
James placed a hand on his son's shoulder but didn't speak. No one did. They were simply glad to be together.
When Dumbledore walked through the door, however, James and Lily grew serious. They wanted answers.
...
Four days had passed since the Halloween incident. Classes had continued as usual. Though the first day carried a heavy tension, things gradually settled back to normal.
No one knew exactly what had happened. Rumors spread quickly: Harry Potter and his group were involved, his sister was in the infirmary. But that was all.
No details. Just whispers—especially from Slytherin, who mocked the entire affair relentlessly.
Harry, Ron, and Noah continued attending classes as normal. But something about them had shifted. Not in a bad way—more as if each carried thoughts too heavy to share.
They ignored the jokes. Their focus was elsewhere. They wanted to know who was responsible.
When Harry wasn't in class, he was in the infirmary with his parents, who refused to leave Violet's side.
Hermione was released on the second day.
Her parents had also come to Hogwarts, though they seemed to have been convinced—perhaps a little too easily—that everything was under control.
...
"Thank you, Noah," Hermione whispered, hugging him tightly, her eyes shimmering with tears.
Noah stiffened but returned the embrace. Inside, guilt gnawed at him.
Forgive me, Hermione. Just this once.
He had promised never to use Legilimency on his friends again. And yet, after the troll, when no one else was investigating what had truly happened—he had to.
He needed to know.
The hug lasted only a moment, but even without words, the truth of their emotions lingered. Gratitude for being saved. Regret for how close it had come to being too late.
What no one could see, however, was the flicker in Noah's eyes—a cold gleam, locked away deep in his mind, waiting for the right time to surface.
There would be blood.
...
"So, what did I miss?" Hermione asked.
The boys looked confused, so she added as if it were obvious, "Classes. Did I miss anything important?"
"It's good to have you back," Harry and Ron laughed together.
...
The four days after the incident were different for everyone.
Those uninvolved gossiped endlessly, not out of concern but curiosity.
Those who had lived it bore the weight of it—anger, frustration, helplessness.
Harry's routine was simple: visit his parents and sister in the infirmary.
Hermione worked on catching up in class, though her thoughts never strayed far from Violet.
Ron wrestled with feelings of uselessness, forever the unnoticed Weasley—his only claim to uniqueness being Harry Potter's friend.
Even the professors seemed restless. Hogwarts was meant to be safe. The troll incident forced them to question that safety. Only their near-blind faith in Dumbledore kept the questions from becoming louder.
And Dumbledore himself… he owed explanations to the parents involved. After complaints, apologies, and reassurances, everything seemed settled.
Almost everything.
Lily and James remained unconvinced. To them, the truth was simple: trolls didn't just wander into the castle. Someone had planned this. But who? And why?
They suspected Dumbledore knew more than he admitted. The thought infuriated them. Yet as members of the Order of the Phoenix, in the end, they trusted him.
Still, something else gnawed at them.
They hadn't yet met the student who had saved Violet. Both teachers and Harry had told them what happened, but they hadn't been able to thank him. They wanted to—but they refused to leave Violet's side until she woke.
And in those four days, Noah never once visited the infirmary.
Tonight, on the fourth day, she finally opened her eyes.
That night, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat with James and Lily in the infirmary.
Madam Pomfrey had insisted Violet stay another day to rest, but she eventually gave in to the pleas of everyone involved.
And so, their reunion was a happy one—though tears were shed.