Apology

Unfortunately, even though Clara ran all the way, she still arrived at the dungeon two minutes late.

"Miss Albert, you're two minutes late. You shouldn't take after Potter in that respect." Snape's voice rang out ominously from the shadows of the dungeon.

"Sorry, Professor. Something held me up."

The moment she finished speaking, a Nonverbal Spell came flying at her. That was how Snape was: he liked to start training without warning. She was used to it by now. As she dodged to the side, she conjured a stone slab to block the attack, then flicked her wand and cast a Shield Charm in front of her. Snape gave her no chance to catch her breath. A second and a third spell followed in quick succession. Clara lowered her center of gravity, blocked the frontal attack with her Shield Charm, and slid half a step backward to avoid the attack from the side, her movements smooth and effortless.

"At the next joint training session, three professors will be casting spells at you at once."

After two hours of torment, Clara sat slumped on the floor. Snape looked at her as he gathered up the broken glass bottles with an expressionless face and tossed out a few words. "The Death Eaters won't attack you one at a time. You need to learn to dodge curses coming from multiple directions at once."

"Thank you, Professor. I'll prepare properly." Clara had gotten quite good at accepting Snape's barbed remarks and translating them in her head. She could probably filter out two-thirds of what he said as sarcasm, leaving the remaining third as the truly useful part. This one translated to: you've been learning reasonably well lately, but don't get cocky. Real combat is far more brutal than this.

He gave a cold snort, which she quickly interpreted as meaning that if she didn't leave now, they would go another round. She said goodbye to the professor and slipped out of the dungeon at once.

The torches in the corridor had already burned most of the way down, and dim yellow light flickered over the stone walls. Clara walked down the underground corridor toward the Hufflepuff Common Room, rolling her aching shoulders as she went. During training, a spell had grazed her shoulder blade. Although the Shield Charm had absorbed most of its force, it had still left a mark.

She was used to minor injuries like that. That was how training with Snape went: she always returned with a few more bruises or scrapes, but never any truly serious wounds. He exercised great restraint, calibrating the force of every spell precisely so that it hurt enough for her to remember, but not enough to draw blood. Besides, after spending so much time with him, she could clearly tell that most of the Nonverbal Spells Snape cast weren't curses, but Disarming Charms and the like that would do almost no harm.

From a certain point of view, that was a kind of consideration in itself-Snape's own kind of consideration.

She pushed open the barrel-shaped entrance and had just climbed into the common room, before she even had time to sit down on a sofa, when she saw Zacharias Smith and Eddie Carmichael rise from their chairs beside the fireplace and walk toward her. Their steps were plainly reluctant, as if someone were leading them along with invisible ropes.

Clara stood where she was, her expression largely unchanged. "Can I help you?"

"Oh... Albert, uh... we're very sorry... we apologize for the things we said to you this afternoon." Zacharias stumbled over his words, his eyes darting repeatedly to the left, toward the boys' dormitory. His ears were scarlet, and his apology came out in fragments, as though he were reciting lines someone had forced into his head. A closer look revealed that his collar was rather rumpled, probably from someone grabbing it. "We... shouldn't have called you a traitor, and we shouldn't have talked nonsense about your lessons."

Clara followed his gaze. Behind the half-hidden passage to the boys' dormitory, a corner of black fabric was visible. A very fine line of silvery-gray trim ran around the cuff, a distinctive feature of the Hogwarts Prefect uniform. She had seen it so many times in the common room that she knew it well enough to recognize it without seeing the whole robe.

The person was probably trying to stay hidden, but unfortunately, he had underestimated his own size.

She had guessed who it was.

She looked away and turned back to the two boys standing before her with their heads lowered. "It's all right. I accept your apology."

Zacharias's head shot up, probably because he hadn't expected her to agree so readily. Eddie opened his mouth beside him, looking just as surprised.

"What you said was hurtful, but since you know you were wrong, let's put it behind us." Clara paused, a trace of coldness and threat entering her voice. "But I don't want there to be a next time, or I'd be happy to use the spells I've just learned from Professor Snape on you."

After all, they had come to her, so there was no need for her to be polite. Right now, she was probably a bit like a fox borrowing a tiger's might—the tigers were Cedric and Snape, and she, the fox, stood in their shadows and borrowed some of their might. The effect, however, was considerable.

Both boys turned pale, as if afraid she would curse them on the spot. They hurried back into the boys' dormitory without even daring to finish saying good night. Their steps faltered noticeably as they passed the entrance, apparently having spotted the person hiding in the shadows, and then they ran off without looking back.

The door to the boys' dormitory passage swung fully open.

Cedric leaned against the stone wall with his arms folded. His gray-blue eyes looked especially bright in the dim light, and his lips curved in a smile he couldn't quite suppress.

"Thank you, Diggory."

"I didn't expect you to figure it out so quickly." He stepped out and scratched his head, looking a little embarrassed.

"Your Prefect uniform is probably distinctive enough." Clara pointed at his robe. "You must have given them quite a telling-off."

"I can safely say it wasn't me they were afraid of. It was Snape. I told them that if they didn't apologize, I'd repeat their exact words to Professor Snape, and their faces went white on the spot." His voice trembled a little with laughter as he spoke.

Clara smiled and nodded without committing herself, leaving unmentioned the fact that Cedric might have grabbed Zacharias by the collar.

"Anyway, thank you." Clara pointed to her rather battered robe. "But I should probably go back to my dormitory and change. It's a bit of a sorry sight."

She waved at Cedric and turned toward the girls' dormitory passage, but had only taken two steps when he called her back.

"I was thinking, you don't have to be so formal with me, do you? We're friends, aren't we, Clara?"

Clara turned around and froze for a moment. Her name was a simple set of syllables on his lips, yet it made her heart skip a beat. It felt completely different from the countless times he had politely called her "Miss Albert."

Before going back in time, Clara would probably have been excitedly spinning Rowle around three times in her arms by now.

She had thought she was long past the stage where a single sentence from Cedric could make her heart race. Yet it turned out that some habits couldn't be broken, even after five years.

Something that had nearly died began to surge and grow again in her chest. It felt as though something might fall from her eyes, perhaps because she realized that those once distant, untouchable imaginings could actually be so easily within reach.

Her expression made Cedric a little flustered. He thought his forwardness had frightened her.

"Uh... of course, call me whatever feels natural."

"Thank you... Cedric."

Clara tried saying his name. The feeling of those syllables rolling off her tongue was unfamiliar, like the faint tingling sensation of holding a wand for the first time.

He seemed very pleased and smiled as he waved to her. "It's getting late. Get some rest, and I hope you have a good dream tonight."

Clara watched his back disappear into the passage to the boys' dormitory.

She had never imagined she could stand in front of him and hear him say it himself: we're friends.

Cedric Diggory was upright, kind, and loyal, possessing all the most precious qualities of a Hufflepuff. He would help a first-year he had never met pick up dropped books in the corridor. When she first ate in the Great Hall in her first year, he had handed her a stack of napkins after she was startled by the food appearing out of thin air and knocked over her Pumpkin Juice. He would drag people who gossiped about a younger student he barely knew into a corner and give them a warning. Even if it hadn't been her they called a traitor today, the result would have been the same. He was like the sun, exercising his sense of justice and shining indiscriminately on everyone.

Perhaps even Merlin couldn't bear to see a boy like him fall from this world, and that was why he had given her chance after chance to return to the past. Those loops, those painful twenty-fourths of June, those eyes opening again and again in the dark—they were not only to save his life. Perhaps they were also so that one day she could stand here and hear him say her name. This was Merlin's gift to her.

She turned and headed for the girls' dormitory. Cersei was already asleep, her breathing steady behind the curtains. A small lamp had been left on by the bed, its dim yellow light falling across Clara's pillow. A silver envelope lay there, sealed with red wax bearing a phoenix design. Clara opened it and drew out a sheet of parchment covered in long, slender handwriting.

Dear Miss Albert,

I had only just returned to Hogwarts when I heard about some unpleasant incidents in the Hufflepuff Common Room. I am glad that you were not affected by them. Mr. Diggory did very well: as a Prefect, he put a stop to the inappropriate remarks, and as a friend, he defended your dignity. I believe that only someone like him is worthy of so much effort on your part.

Nevertheless, as your headmaster, I am still sorry that I was not in the castle when you needed help. Please believe that the door to the Headmaster's Office is always open to you, whatever the matter and whatever the time. If you wish, you are welcome to visit my office after training tomorrow afternoon. We also have some encouraging progress to tell you about.

P.S. I have noticed a marked improvement in your lessons with Professor Snape recently. He said you were "starting to be less of a headache than Potter." Personally, I consider that quite high praise. In all the years I have worked with him, I could count on one hand the students who have received a similar comment from him.

Yours faithfully,

Albus Dumbledore

P.P.S. The supply of Sherbet Lemons has been replenished.