Chapter 108: 2ｰ2

It seemed Umbridge had taken my provocation quite literally. Faced with Professor McGonagall's bitter expression, even I had to force a wry smile.

"I've heard the general gist of it from Granger. I am aware that you were trying to protect your brother. Telling you to handle things more cleverly—well, I suppose that is a lecture you do not need."

"It's just a personal grudge."

"Yes. I knew you would say that as well. Therefore, the words I wish to impart will be passed on to your brother, not you."

"...Please go easy on him."

"That depends on you."

She handed me a piece of parchment detailing my detention. After classes, in Professor Umbridge's office—was it going to be that cowardly corporal punishment after all?

"It looks like I had better go right away."

"...Be careful."

"I will. Thank you, Professor McGonagall."

I relaxed my tense nerves and smiled at Professor McGonagall, who truly and sincerely worried about Harry and me. Hogwarts was full of adults worthy of respect.

Umbridge's office—the very room filled with memories of Professor Lupin—lay in wait, its previous atmosphere utterly destroyed. The kitten plates and the aggressively pink decor made me dizzy. Paying no mind to my speechlessness, Umbridge invited me in with the sickly-sweet voice of a dreamy little girl. ...If we were talking about dreamy girls, Luna was far more pleasant.

"Lovely, isn't it? As fellow maidens, I am quite sure we will become very good friends."

Even though she was about to subject her "very good friend" to corporal punishment, Umbridge smiled serenely, like the hostess of a tea party. Pointing to a desk, she watched my every move as I walked toward it.

"I have heard of your reputation, Miss Potter. Excellent, intellectual—and fiercely devoted to your brother, they say. You are quite the leader among your peers, aren't you?"

"Not at all."

"Everyone has praised you. —Unlike your brother."

I clenched my fists under the desk. I focused on the pain of my nails digging into my skin to keep my head clear. There was no sign of the infamous quill—not yet.

"I had a brother once, too. A truly—incompetent, hopeless, foolish brother. A child so wretched it was horrifying to even consider we shared the same blood. I had a very unfortunate childhood... Because of that,"

Umbridge's mouth stretched into a wide grin, looking exactly like a toad that had just caught a fly.

"I understand exactly how you feel."

"...How I feel?"

A sadistic glint began to peek through her sticky, cloying gaze.

"Poor Maria. You are so gifted, yet simply because he is your brother, you are saddled with a burden... Simply because you are the older sister, you must protect him. You must look after him. You have thought about it, haven't you? —If only a child like that didn't exist."

I—

"—No."

I shook my head firmly, without a single shred of hesitation.

"No. I have never, not even once, thought about what it would be like if Harry weren't here. I love Harry. ...Unlike you."

When I first woke up, it was a strange sensation realizing there were two of "me." Seeing my own weakness and foolishness reflected through Harry was agonizing. I felt frustrated, and I even cursed this body for not being Harry Potter.

—But.

I couldn't even imagine a Maria without her brother, Harry.

"...I see."

The warmth rapidly vanished from Umbridge's eyes.

"Let us begin your detention. Take this quill."

She handed me a black quill that required no ink. I hadn't even written anything yet, but a throbbing sensation already assaulted the back of my hand.

"Let's see... 'I must not defy my teachers'—yes, you will write lines."

It seemed foolish to ask about the ink now, so I gritted my teeth and faced the parchment. The cuts were carved into the back of my hand. I must not—defy—my teachers──Ridiculous.

"I want you to think very carefully about my words. I am on your side."

By the time welts had formed on the back of my hand, Umbridge stroked the cuts eerily and declared my release. I left the room without showing a hint of weakness until the very end. I walked until even my footsteps couldn't be heard from her office—and let out the deep breath I had been holding in.

"—I will not become your convenient little spy."

My muttered voice, as I glared at the scars, was brimming with hatred.

"—What are you doing, Potter?"

I instinctively hid my hand. But that only drew his attention even more.

"Professor Snape... Ah."

He grabbed my wrist without a word. In the corridor completely dyed in the colors of night, his dark eyes stared at the back of my hand. He didn't speak. I felt only a profound awkwardness at the human warmth transmitting from his grip on my wrist.

"...Um, I'll be heading back now."

"Follow me."

"Eh?"

He let go of my wrist, his heavy robes billowing as Professor Snape started walking. He didn't look back. He didn't match his pace to mine. Even as he ordered me to follow, he looked as though he didn't actually expect me to. The thought of that—made me feel somehow frustrated, so I jogged to catch up and walk beside him.

The destination, as expected, was Professor Snape's office. In the room lit only by the bare minimum of light, Professor Snape grabbed a small vial without hesitation, as if he could see every corner clearly.

"This is for the pain and to prevent infection. It will not heal it completely. ...You will need to keep it visible for a few days."

"Why..."

Professor Snape did not answer. Without making eye contact even once, he applied the potion to the back of my hand with the monotonous, mechanical movements of a machine. I let out a brief groan—and was surprised at myself for doing so. I had been able to endure it in front of Umbridge. I surely could have endured it in front of Harry and my best friends, too.

"You—do not cry."

His greasy bangs fell like a blackout curtain, keeping his expression hidden. I couldn't read any emotion from his voice, either. —His words were all I had to go on.

"Crying won't turn back time, after all."

Unless, for example, I lived as someone else with a different name and gender. —Just kidding.

"...Hmph. I will escort you back."

"Thank you."

The stinging pain had completely subsided. Idly playing with my fingers inside my robes for no reason, I walked beside Professor Snape until we reached the bottom of Gryffindor Tower.

Hermione was the only one in our room in the girls' dormitories. She was sitting on her bed, irritably pushing her hair back. Ever since her attempted knitting terrorism was stopped, she had been racking her brain over ways to rescue house-elves in between her studies. Seeing her familiar scowl, I gave a wry smile, assuming it was about S.P.E.W. again, but her sharp eyes immediately caught me.

"Oh, Maria! You have to hear this. Fred and George—they've been testing their products on the first years—Oh my!"

Hermione truly had sharp eyes. Keeping secrets from her was impossible. ...Like an injury, for example.

"What is this... Goodness... I'm filing a protest."

She grabbed my wrist with a completely different kind of strength than Professor Snape. She dragged me down to the common room, breathing heavily through her nose. Harry and Ron, who seemed to have been doing homework together, widened their eyes at Hermione's dramatic entrance.

"Perfect timing, you two. Look at this, Harry. Look at this and remember Professor McGonagall's words carefully."

"Wait, Hermione."

"What's got into you... If you're looking for Fred and George, they're already in their dorm—Whoa, what is that?"

Ron's eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw the welts. Harry looked utterly stunned.

"Professor McGonagall told you, didn't she? That the truth isn't always treated as justice—she told you to use your common sense. This is exactly what she meant. When you act recklessly, the consequences fall on Maria, too. You have to understand the power your words carry."

"Hermione, it's fine."

"No, it is not fine! Maria, you spoil Harry far too much. Come on, we're going to the Hospital Wing. And after that, straight to Professor McGonagall's office."

"Hermione!"

Using the wrist she had grabbed, I pushed back to stop Hermione before her natural assertiveness made her completely lose control. Hermione turned around, looking entirely dissatisfied. When it came to her friends, her boiling point was incredibly low.

"The injury is fine. I already got some potion for it."

"...From whom?"

I held out the small vial to Hermione, who was looking at me with suspicious eyes. Her gaze only grew more skeptical.

"Er... Professor, Snape."

"What!?"

Ron's voice cracked loudly.

"Oh, I see. Well, if it's from Professor Snape, I suppose there's no mistake. In that case, straight to McGonagall."

"We're not doing that either."

Hermione's eyes narrowed sharply. Ron flinched, and so did Neville, who had come down to the common room at the worst possible time.

"It's only been one detention so far. Let's wait and see—isn't that what you always say?"

"But you said that woman is scum. And now I am absolutely convinced of it, too."

"Don't you think I might be wrong?"

"No, I don't."

Those words came from absolute trust. Pure, straightforward—and so powerful it hurt.

It felt like a heavy stone had just been dropped into the pit of my stomach.

"...I do nothing but make mistakes."

Staring at the back of my hand, etched with different words than the ones from when I was Harry, my voice fell to my feet, reaching no one.

"Maria."

We hadn't planned to meet. I just had a feeling—that was the only way I could explain it. In the common room, after everyone else had gone to sleep, I was sitting next to Harry.

"I'm sorry."

"I can't accept that apology. I did this of my own free will."

"Please accept it. Otherwise, my guilt won't have anywhere to go."

"............"

A confession with nowhere to go can only build up inside. I knew the pain of that all too well. —I had no choice but to nod.

"You don't blame me, do you, Maria?"

"There's no need to blame you."

"Really?"

In the dark common room, Harry's eyes held a strange glow, almost as if they were emitting light of their own.

"—Really?"

"...Harry?"

"You're so mature, Maria. You can make friends with anyone right away. You have friends in every house. Even with Snape—even though you know I hate him."

"Harry, wait. Snape is—"

"You're close with Sirius, too. Lupin dotes on you. You're a favorite of Professor McGonagall's. ...And you're secretly connected to Dumbledore, aren't you?"

Unable to resist the magic of those emerald eyes, I shook my head while staring back at him.

"That's not true! I—I really don't know anything."

"We're twins. We've spent our entire lives together. —Why are we so different?"

"Harry..."

We aren't different. There's no way we could be. Because I am—Harry.

"Harry, we're not different. We're the same. You are me, and I am you. Right now, you're—your scar is hurting, your dreams are terrifying, and that's why you feel unstable. It's going to be okay. You are loved. Truly—everyone cares about you, Harry. I know that for a fact."

I—the Harry from before—had been loved with a perfect love. It was undeniable. It wasn't something to be doubted. Yet I had failed to notice it—and by the time I did, it had slipped through my fingers. That despair would nest in my heart for eternity.

I don't want you to end up like that.

"It doesn't mean anything if you aren't there, Maria."

"Of course I will be. ...I understand you better than anyone else."

Because I am—you.

Wanting to anchor Harry as his emotional balance slowly began to crumble, I hugged him desperately. How could I make him understand? What should I do...? Whose words ever reached 'me' back then?

"Then stay by my side. Promise you'll stay by my side."

"I will—I will."

Even though the arms hugging me back were tight and painful, I swallowed my frustration at my own pathetic helplessness, able to do nothing but let him hold me.