Lizzie let the trunk lid fall. She turned, took in the bare walls, neatly made beds, crisp curtains, and for the first time, she didn't know if she'd ever be back.

She was the only remaining inhabitant of her dormitory. All the other Slytherins had run when You-Know -- no, when Voldemort (there was no need to be afraid of the name anymore) had attacked the castle. All but a few, and most of those had joined in on the side of the Death Eaters.

Only Lizzie had volunteered to fight. It was a split-second decision, just as she was about to leave through the secret passage. Professor Slughorn had been right behind her, panting with the stress. She knew he longed to escape the siege, just like all the others.

And when she turned, saw the rather desperate gleam in his eye, she stepped aside.

"After you, Professor."

He acquiesced eagerly. But she never came after him.

Instead she turned on her heel and fled, back out of the secret room, into the hell that was breaking loose...

A knock on the door startled her out of her thoughts.

"Come in."

Minerva McGonagall stepped inside. It was strange to see her here among the green and silver hangings. A slight twist in her tight-lipped expression, which Lizzie supposed was meant to be a sympathetic smile, betrayed the headmistress's discomfort. This was not her strong suit, trying to comfort young girls.

She cleared her throat. "Gray. I see you've packed. Ready to go?"

Lizzie only nodded. Generally she would have tried to make some sort of conversation with her headmistress, but not today. Too much weighed on her. It was too soon.

She could still hear their screams.

Could still see so many last moments.

That annoying Creevy boy, whom she'd never liked, leaning through a gaping hole in the castle wall, trying to save his already fallen brother. The firm determination in his eyes as he reached for his brother's hand, then vanished under a horde of giant spiders.

One of the Weasley twins (she never knew which was which) who had laughed only moments before his death. Only moments before the wall imploded and he was silenced forever.

And Thomas...

"You seem to be... coping," McGonagall said quietly.

Lizzie paused. "Yes. I'm fine."

There was an awkward silence where both of them stared at the floor. Then...

"That's horse manure, Gray."

Lizzie looked up in surprise at the stern look in her Head's eyes. No attempts at motherly kindness remained.

"I work with schoolchildren, for heaven's sake - I, of all people, should know when I'm being lied to."

Lizzie tried to laugh, but the sound came out more like a cough. Instead she assumed a stony expression. "Headmistress, with all due respect, lies are better than truth in this case."

Something rose inside Lizzie's chest, heavy, dark, but she pushed it back down into her stomach. She couldn't break down yet.

McGonagall seemed to realize that the Slytherin girl was even more stubborn than usual and lowered her stern gaze in pity. "As you wish."

Neither one spoke.

Lizzie broke the silence. "Is that all you came for, Headmistress? Because I really do need to be going, my aunt is expecting me to arrive by Floo Powder any minute."

McGonagall ran a hand absentmindedly along the iron bedstead. "No. I'm taking a count of which sixth and seventh years plan to come back next year. It seems a fair few are dropping out without getting their N.E.W.T.s." She furrowed her eyebrows in disapproval.

Lizzie spoke carefully. "I have a job offer abroad." She paused. "With the Irish national team. They lost Moran in the war and want me to replace her."

McGonagall raised her eyebrows high. Lizzie thought it must have taken a lot of practice in the mirror to arch them so impressively.

"Oh? Well, that is a prestigious offer, I must say." Her eyebrows didn't lower even a fraction of an inch. "But, as your headmistress, I must say that nothing can replace a good education. You may only be sixteen -"

"Seventeen," Lizzie corrected.

McGongall looked annoyed at being interrupted in her speech. "When did you come of age?"

"Er... last week. The day the castle was attacked, actually..."

Now McGonagall looked as if she wished she hadn't asked. With an awkward pat on Lizzie's shoulder, she cleared her throat. "Do consider coming back to finish, get your N.E.W.T.s. You won't regret it."

Lizzie nodded, but her decision had already been made. Too many painful memories resided in this castle. She'd been offered an escape, and she was going to take it. "Yes, ma'am."

The headmistress nodded and left, letting the door fall shut behind her.

A vision of the Great Hall doors blasting off their hinges flashed across Lizzie's eyes, and she flinched.

Would it ever go away? Would she ever be able to just go on with her life?

...

"Elizabeth!"

Lizzie's Aunt Carol jumped up from her chair by the fire and hugged her niece. "You're home at last, love. Welcome back."

Lizzie gave a half-smile and tried to look at least nearly as excited as her guardian. "Thanks. I'm glad to be... home." But this wasn't home, really. Home had been the flat in London with her parents, then Hogwarts after... but now the flat was gone, and how could Hogwarts be home after all that had happened there? It was too muddled, too confusing...

"All right?" Carol Eden looked concerned. "You're so pale."

"I was sick for a few days." Lizzie pulled her trunk out of the fireplace and it made a heavy thunking noise on the wooden floor. "I got a nasty cut and had a fever, but I'm well now."

Carol didn't seem mollified. "Let me get your things, you just go lie down."

But Lizzie had already pulled out her wand. "It's no problem, Aunt Carol, I can do it." She waved her wand and the trunk sped up the stairs. "I'd appreciate some tea, though." Anything for a few minutes alone.

Her aunt smiled, glad that Lizzie would at least accept a measly cup of tea after what she'd been through, and bustled off to the kitchen.

Lizzie hurried up the nearest set of stairs to the bedroom she'd stayed in over Christmas holiday. She didn't pay attention to the many doors she passed on the way - the Edens' house was a labyrinth she'd never have time to figure out. Anyway, by June she'd be gone to Ireland with a place of her own, no one to make her tea or question her health. Lizzie was suited to solitude, and she looked forward to leaving.

The bedroom was plain-looking and white, not much decoration besides a large painting of some old ancestor she'd never once seen awake. He had an annoyed expression even when he slept, sprawled out on his velvet armchair, so Lizzie had no desire to meet him. The linens on her bed were gold and gaudy, and a black desk stood opposite - it was covered in parchment, old quills, and dust, probably from one of Mr. Eden's projects he'd likely given up years ago. Lizzie cleared it with a charm and stacked the papers in a neat pile on a shelf.

Within five minutes she'd magically unpacked and settled in. Aunt Carol brought the tea up, and Lizzie bought herself more time alone by suggesting that perhaps she really should rest a little. But when she was alone once more, it didn't bring her the comfort she'd expected. Instead she sat staring at the ceiling until images of the battle overwhelmed her and she indulged in reliving her last moments with Thomas. She was glad to be situated far away from the house's other occupants - it gave her permission to let out the tears that didn't seem to end, no matter how many times she let them cascade down her face. No one heard her gasping for air as she saw, over and over, the light leave his eyes, the faint glow of a well-aimed curse still emanating from his chest.

Their last conversation ran through her head.

Lizzie searched the corridors and finally found Thomas in the Great Hall with a group of Ravenclaws. They glared at her as she approached, but Thomas just smiled.

"You stayed." He reached down and gave her a quick kiss.

"Of course I did. You're here, and I couldn't leave you."

"You could have." Thomas put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm not the only reason you're here, admit it."

She shook his hand off, but immediately regretted her temper. "Let's not make this complicated, all right? Where do they need help the most."

"North Tower, but you're not going up there, I heard Bellatrix Lestrange is fighting her way through single-handedly."

"Then that's exactly why I should go. I'll find you later, all right? Stay alive, won't you?" It was forcibly light-hearted.

"No, I'll come for you. Stay out of range of Lestrange's curses, whatever you do."

Lizzie just rolled her eyes and grinned. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

As Lizzie stifled her sobs with a pillow, she thought that "fine" wasn't exactly the best description. Alive, yes. But fine? Not so much.

For the next week, Lizzie spent her time wandering Diagon Alley. People hadn’t really been able to recover yet from the disaster of the fallen Ministry, so few shops were open. There wasn’t much to look at besides ruins. Still, Lizzie walked and walked through the streets, not really seeing much. It was someplace familiar, and that was all Lizzie cared about.

She was only at her aunt and uncle’s house to sleep and eat. Even then, she spent a lot of time locked up in her room, taking meals there rather than facing the entire family at once. On top of that, the Edens had started taking on boarders, and Lizzie never knew when she’d meet someone she knew. Her room became her world, and no one intruded into it besides Mrs. Eden with supper or tea.

Half-way through June, however, she received an unexpected visit that changed everything.

Lizzie was returning from a shopping trip to the recently re-opened Quality Quidditch Supplies – she had begun training again, and her start with the Irish National team was getting closer by the day. Aunt Carol was knitting in the front room and looked up as Lizzie Apparated into the entryway, laden with packages.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here!� she said, standing up quickly, her knitting dropping to the floor. “I told him I wasn’t even sure you’d be back before supper, but he insisted that he’d wait.� Carol wrung her hands nervously.

“Who?� Lizzie hoped it wasn’t who she thought it might be. The boy in question had a habit of crawling back at exactly the wrong time, and she wasn’t in the mood to listen to his excuses yet again. “Not…�

Someone stepped from the kitchen, and Lizzie nearly dropped her shopping. It wasn’t who she’d imagined, not by a long shot. “What are you doing here?� she asked accusingly.

“Elizabeth!� Carol scolded, shocked.

“No, it’s quite all right,� Harry Potter replied, waving his hand.

Carol looked mortified at her niece’s response to their famous guest, and offered him some tea. He politely refused, turning back to Lizzie. “Miss Gray –� Potter paused. “Can I call you Lizzie?�

“No.�

Carol’s blush deepened. “I apologize, she’s been through a lot this past year and –�

“Would you give us some privacy, Mrs. Eden? I’d like to speak to Miss Gray alone.� Potter led Aunt Carol out of the room and closed the door behind her. Then he turned on Lizzie, no longer wearing a diplomatic and understanding expression. Instead, his eyes flashed with some urgent purpose. “Look, I know you have reason to hate me, but I have important information you need to know.�

“The Rebellion murdered my family, and you expect me to just sit here and listen to you? No!� Her pent-up frustration about so many things exploded in the form of contempt for Potter. “You may be the hero of the entire wizarding world, and I won’t lie – I’m grateful you killed the Dark Lord – but there’s no law keeping me here to listen to you.�

“I know all about your family, Lizzie,� Potter said, his hand on her arm. “I also know you stayed and fought on the side of the Rebellion at the Battle of Hogwarts last month.� His fingers tightened, and Lizzie itched to pull out her wand and hex him. His urgent tone stopped her, though. “Something doesn’t add up there, don’t you think?�

“What’s your point, Potter?�

He let go of her arm, and started pacing back and forth. “I got a message last night. Something warning me about a possible gathering of the escaped Death Eaters, a coup.�

Lizzie laughed. “First, there’s no way they’d be able to get enough support this soon after the fall of Voldemort. And second, I still don’t see how I fit into this.�

“Your part’s coming,� he replied, undaunted. “As for your first concern, this coup wouldn’t take place for another year at least, if not two.� Potter stopped pacing and faced Lizzie, serious. “This was no ordinary tip-off.�

Even though she desperately wanted to annoy him by not asking anything at all, her curiosity won out. “What kind of tip-off was it, then?�

He paused, considered her. “Do you know what a time-turner is?�

“Er…� He’d caught her off-guard again. “Yeah, they’re made by the Department of Mysteries, right?�

“And you know what they do?�

“A time-turner can transport a witch or wizard back in time, so they can re-watch parts of their own lives, the lives of other people, even be in what appears to be two places at once. Theoretically, you could change the past. Of course, that’s against the law, but it’s still possible even if it’s illegal and infinitely dangerous.�

Potter smiled. “Exactly.�

Lizzie was sitting now, and Potter sat in the chair opposite her. “I still don’t understand what this has to do with me.�

He turned and pulled out his wand, muttering Muffliato at the door. Then he dove in, speaking quickly, eyes on hers. “Try to keep up, because even I’m not sure I understand it all. Now, last night I walked into my home at Grimmauld Place and found myself waiting for me. At first I was shocked, thought it was Dark Magic, but my future self showed me the time-turner around my neck and answered any questions I asked, the answers to which only I could know. I didn’t tell me much, and it was a huge risk to tell me what I did. Suffice it to say that certain events this year at Hogwarts will affect whether or not the Death Eaters will take over once more, whether this regime will last. You are a key part of these events, I said, and it was vital that I make sure you come back to Hogwarts to finish your last year as a student, that your presence there could make all the difference in the world.�

Lizzie couldn’t speak. Either Potter had gone mad, or he had some secret agenda. “I don’t believe you.�

“I don’t blame you. Just come back to Hogwarts. I’m only asking for one year.� His voice was desperate, something she’d never heard before. Lizzie had seen him nervous during the Tri-wizard Tournament in their fourth year, defeated when Dumbledore was killed at the end of their sixth, even commanding and confident as he battled Lord Voldemort only weeks ago. But Harry Potter, actually desperate for someone else’s help? This was a side she’d never seen.

Well what if she did go back to Hogwarts? Now he had her thinking about it, and the feeling of home she’d been missing returned with the ache of longing. Whatever she told herself, Hogwarts was home. Sure, she’d miss out on the opportunity to start with the Irish. But she was confident she could work her way up in no time, even if they had an established Chaser to take the spot. If she got her N.E.W.T.s, her career wouldn’t have to end at age thirty when she could no longer keep up with the younger players. What if she was injured? It would provide a foundation, something to fall back on. Really, her excuses – that she didn’t belong at Hogwarts anymore, that she’d miss her chance of a lifetime, that school didn’t matter so much – they fell away when she considered them seriously. Besides, if Potter was actually telling the truth…

Lizzie looked into Potter’s eyes and opened her mouth to acquiesce – but the green of his eyes reminded her of something, what was it?

She saw a flash of green light. A scream rang in her head – her own scream, a memory. Thomas’s dead body on the ground in front of her, limp, still warm, unmoving. His own brown eyes staring into space, unseeing.

“No.�

Potter’s face fell. “Please.�

Lizzie shook her head. “I won’t go back. You’ll have to figure this out yourself, if what you told me is even true. I can’t go back to Hogwarts, and you can’t make me.�

His eyebrows furrowed. “You said ‘can’t’ the second time.�

Lizzie’s own expression was unreadable. “Can’t. Won’t. Doesn’t matter which one. I’m not coming back to Hogwarts, and that’s my final decision.�

Potter stood so he looked down at her, taking on a commanding air. Pompous, self-righteous boy, you don’t know anything, do you? Lizzie thought angrily. “You could be dooming the entire wizarding world to a fate as bad as the one it just escaped, you know that, don’t you?� he said.

“GET OUT!� Lizzie yelled, standing herself and drawing her wand. “NOW!�

Potter backed away, never taking his eyes off her. As he reached the front door he pulled out his own wand, but didn’t aim it at Lizzie. “We’ve all been hurt, Lizzie, all had experiences that made us feel angry, victimized. It’s what we choose to do with those experiences that defines our character. Just remember that.�

Lizzie raised her wand. “OUT!�

Potter Disapparated before her jinx hit the wall, rebounding harmlessly back to the floor.

Lizzie didn’t wait for Aunt Carol to run in, worried and upset. She just ran up the stairs and into her room, slamming the door behind her. As she leaned against the door, breath heavy, pulse racing, she couldn’t shake the image of Thomas’s dead eyes looking back at her.

I just can’t go back. Not to that.