Lydia's Story

Harry laid awake in bed that night, unable to sleep. He could hear the other boys in the dormitory snoring from their beds, but try as he might, sleep would not come to him. He kept going over the events of the day in his mind, not sure how to feel.

His friends all had their minds set against Lydia, refusing to believe anything else. Yet Dumbledore trusted her, and the Sorting Hat had put her in Gryffindor. These things didn't line up in Harry's mind, and he wondered who to believe.

Harry knew how it felt to have people afraid of you for no real reason. He remembered the time in his second year when everyone was terrified of him, thinking wrongly that he was the heir of Slytherin. Even last year, people were afraid of him when they believed that he was an attention-deprived lunatic. They thought that he had made up the scene of Voldemort's return, trying to get attention from the media. Only when the Minister for Magic himself saw Lord Voldemort did they realize that he was telling the truth. Now he wondered if they were as wrong about Lydia as they had been about him.

Sighing, Harry kicked off his blankets and sat up. He pulled back the curtains on his bed, moving as quietly as possible. The room was bathed in pale moonlight, and filled with the snores of his friends. Pulling on his robes and glasses, he shoved his wand into his pocket and started for the door. He would go down to the common room, where he could try to sort out his thoughts without waking his friends.

As Harry reached the bottom of the stairs, he realized there was someone in the common room ahead of him. His mind too full of his own thoughts, he paused in the doorway, planning to sneak back to bed before he was seen. Before he turned, however, he realized who it was reading by the firelight.

Her head was turned away from him, buried deep in the pages of her book. She was obviously engrossed in her reading, and was completely oblivious to his presence. The light of the fire danced along her raven hair, which streamed down her back and shoulders. It was Lydia.

Harry stood frozen in the doorway, unsure of what to do. He wasn't altogether convinced that Lydia was evil, yet at the same time, he didn't want to betray Ron and Hermione's trust. He knew they wouldn't like the idea of him talking to Lydia alone, and he wasn't sure if he was willing to risk that. As he stood there, he wondered again if they were just as wrong about Lydia as they had been about him.

The war between Harry's sides raged for a few long moments, until Lydia, looking up from her book, realized for the first time that he was there.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, startled. "I - I didn't realize you were there! If you want to come in, I'll leave, don't worry." She closed her book and stood up, ready to return to the dormitory.

"Wait!" Harry said impulsively, stepping into the room. "I'm not trying to chase you out! It's okay, really! In fact...I...I was hoping I could talk to you."

Lydia stared at him for a moment, her eyes looking wary. Silhouetted in the light of the fireplace, the light cloak she had thrown over her sheer nightgown hung loose, showing the slim shape of her body. Harry couldn't help but think briefly that she looked vulnerable, standing there alone and defenceless. Yet there was a fire in her eyes that seemed to shadow the room around her, and Harry saw that she would not tolerate another attack from him. He quickly realized that it was not in her nature to be defenceless, and that he had been very wrong to think otherwise.

After a brief hesitation, she sat down again. "Okay, then," she replied. "What did you want to talk about?" Her voice sounded almost casual, but her eyes still stayed locked on Harry, following him like a master dueller. She was poised on the edge of her seat, her back straight and her features guarded.

"Well, I just thought we could talk," Harry replied, taking the seat across from her. He tried to choose his words carefully, not wanting Lydia to feel attacked. "I don't know much about you. What do you think of Hogwarts?"

"Well it's...big," she said with a shrug. "It's a bit different from what I had expected." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she gave a heavy sigh, her body seeming to wilt under a heavy burden. She dropped her eyes from Harry's face, looking instead at the book resting in her hands. "Actually, it's really different from what I had expected."

They were both silent for a few moments. Harry knew exactly what she was talking about, but couldn't think of anything to say. Lydia at last broke the silence, continuing to speak with her head bowed.

"I never really fit in at Durmstrang, either. My family was legend there, too, but in a very different way. The family name captured respect, even though my father's name didn't. But the students were all very distant, making it really hard to get to know anybody. I had heard that students from other schools tend to be more open, so I hoped that my new life at Hogwarts would be different. My father had tried to warn me that it wouldn't be that easy, but a part of me didn't realize what he was saying. It wasn't until I first reached Diagon Alley that I saw for the first time what he was talking about." She gave another sigh and raised her eyes back to Harry's face. They still had the same strength that they had carried earlier, but Harry now saw that power mingle with pain. "You can't imagine what it's like to have everyone afraid of you," she whispered, and Harry saw a solitary tear escape her eye, winding it's way down her cheek.

Harry was suddenly reminded of Cho, crying out her feelings before him. Yet somehow, Harry didn't feel nearly as awkward this time. Maybe it was because Lydia wasn't playing some female word game with his mind, speaking instead in plain English. Or maybe it was the fact that he knew these feelings so well himself. Either way, Harry felt a rush of sympathy for the girl sitting in front of him, quickly outweighing any prejudices he still had.

"Lydia, I know a lot better than you think!" he said quietly, leaning closer to her. He told her about his second year, when his fellow students thought he was attacking them with the mysterious monster from the Chamber of Secrets. "They had found out I was a Parselmouth, and that's what did me in. But in the end, my being a Parselmouth was the only thing that let me find the Chamber and end the attacks."

Lydia's eyes lost some of their wariness, looking at Harry instead with interest. She seemed to have forgotten her own troubles temporarily, caught up in Harry's story. "I read about the end of the Chamber of Secrets a few years ago! How did you find it? The paper said that the school had been searched many times before, but it wasn't found until you came across it!"

"Well, a person has to be a Parselmouth to find it, so I guess that's what did it," Harry answered with a shrug. "I had help from my friends, and we finally found it in a washroom."

They continued to talk for the next half hour. When at last they stood to say goodnight, Harry was glad to see Lydia smiling. As she picked up her book, Harry saw the cover for the first time in the firelight, Quick Quidditch Tips scrawled across it in silver letters.

"Do you play Quidditch?" he asked suddenly, looking at her in surprise.

"Oh, yeah," Lydia said, holding her precious book closer to her. "I was a Chaser on my house team at Durmstrang."

"Really?" Harry replied, his eyes shining with interest. "You should really try out for the Gryffindor team! One of our Chasers graduated, and we need a good replacement!"

"I was thinking about it," Lydia admitted, "but I'm not really sure if the team would want me..." Her voice trailed off, and Harry saw her eyes lose some of their happy glow.

"Don't worry about that!" Harry answered, trying to calm her worries. "Just try it. If it doesn't work out, it's no big deal."

Lydia gave another small smile. "Well, I'll think about it."

They made their way towards their separate doorways. As Harry once again reached his bed, he slipped off his robes and crawled beneath the covers, feeling very grateful for their talk.