Magic? || Years 1-5

All I Am: Year 2

"Harry, don't do anything. It's not that big of a deal, I'm over it anyways!" She dragged his attention away.

"If you were over it you wouldn't be this upset," He argued, but he stopped trying to turn around.

"Please," She met his furious gaze evenly, her own calm and serious, "let me handle this on my own."

"Are you sure?" He asked hesitantly, still not looking entirely convinced by her words.

"Positive. I can do it," She smiled warmly, jumping in her seat when he pulled her into a tight hug.

It didn't take long for her to relax into it, however, and she rested her forehead on his shoulder.

"Oi! You two done with professing your undying love for each other?" Ron asked teasingly, poking Harry with his elbow.

"Oh, shut up, Ron," Amisty rolled her eyes as her face went pink and shot a glare at the red head.

She was smiling, though.

"She said it for me," Harry laughed, nudging Ron right back with his own elbow.

Amisty took a sip of her water, still acutely away of the burning gaze on her back. But she ignored it.

Words leave wounds deeper than swords.

-=+=-

When each evening came around, Amisty gathered up Hermione's homework and followed after Ron and Harry as they headed off to the hospital wing.

When she entered, Hermione was wide awake, the fur gone from her face and her eyes losing the gold there was before.

"If I'd sprouted whiskers, I'd take a break from work," Ron commented as Amisty dropped her books on her bedside table.

"Don't be silly, Ron, I've got to keep up," She replied, sitting up and lowering the volume of her voice. "I don't suppose you've got any new leads?"

"Nothing," Harry groaned dejectedly, sinking down at the foot of her gurney with a frown.

"I was so sure it was Malfoy," Ron added, something he had been saying over and over again.

Amisty's attention was diverted elsewhere, however, as her eye caught a glint of gold sticking out from beneath Hermione's pillow.

"What's that?" She asked, pointing at it with a curious expression on her face. Hermione looked mortified.

"Just a get well card," She smiled wanly, trying to push it further underneath and out of sight.

Unfortunately for her, Ron had grabbed it.

"To Miss Granger, wishing you a speedy recovery, from you concerned teacher, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award," Ron recited from the note, his face slowly gaining sourness as he went. "You sleep with this under your pillow?"

That's when Madame Pomfrey came by, rushing them out with Hermione's dose of medicine.

She looked relieved.

"Is Lockhart the smarmiest bloke you've ever met, or what?" Ron asked, his tone dripping with annoyance.

Amisty nodded, a few steps ahead of them on the way to Gryffindor Tower. She froze in her tracks when a loud, furious yell sounded from the floor above.

"That's Filch," Harry whispered, leading the group up the stairs and around a corner.

She listened closely, eyes wide.