Hurting Help and Helping Hurt

Thoughts and questions circle my head like the Monaco Grand Prix as I follow Professor Babbling into an empty classroom.

*Why did you want to see me?* I ask, pushing the hope of fixing the rune down into a box.

"I found a potion that might help your scars," Her wide smile and excitement only serve to confuse me as she hands me a small metal balm box. Curiosity shoving my caution to the floor, I twist the top off to reveal a glittering purple cream.

*What is this?* I ask, more curious than confused.

"I asked Madam Pomfrey to work a mixture of the Wound-cleaning Potion and Dark Arts Cleansing tonic into a paste to get rid of the dark magic that keeps your scars ever fresh," The gleam of excitement in her eyes flashes to confusion as I promptly screw the top back on and shove it back to her.

*That won't work,* The hope that I couldn't quite shove down in the box collapses like a sinkhole in my stomach.

"What do you mean? You haven't even tried it?" The excitement in her voice fades as she tries to hand it back to me. Emotion clouding rational thinking, I continue to refuse it as I step back from her. My distrust in the truth of her gesture builds strength of the fact that only a potion master could have brewed that.

*I have tried fairy dust, phoenix tears, and every mixture of potions a team of healers could think of for a year! I've even been tempted to try unicorn blood even though the odds of it healing me are slim to none. How do you even know so much about my dark scars?*

My quick angry BSL takes a second for her to translate as the shock of my outburst only further delays my response.

"I didn't mean to open any wounds, I was just trying to help," Her pleading adds more confusion to the mix of skepticism and anger brewing within me.

*Why do you even care? You're, You're not my mom!* irrational anger boils over as I storm out of the room.

Tears threaten to break out of the prison around my tear ducts as I stalk through the hallway on my journey to the Great Hall. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why did I even react that way? It's not like she was doing anything wrong. She was trying to help me and I bloody closed her out.

Bright mid-day pours in through the windows and onto the mass of students trying to get to their next class. My body runs on autopilot as I mentally berate myself. The soft clatter of voices helps calm me down as my body leads me to the spot Anne and I agreed to meet at.

"Do you ever stop thinking?" Anne jokingly asks, her sing-songy voice kicking me out of my head for a second as we start our walk to the grounds.

It's not like it's entirely my fault. She's not telling me everything. She said it was her first time seeing a working rune before but didn't she also mention helping father understand my rune? And why lie about who made the paste? It had to have been Mr. Snape so why just not say so? She also deflected when I asked her-

"Hello~ Earth to Catlyn? Are you there?" Anne's question, words always one step from a chuckle, fully snapping me back from reality as she moves in front of me, stopping our hike.

*I did something bad,* My hands move before I realize it.

A single eyebrow is raised in response to my statement, "What does," I can't help but snicker as she makes exaggerated and wide hand movements "Mean?"

Is it somehow ingrained into Diggory DNA to make people smile? Although, that can't be the case considering they're not related. So then- focus Catlyn, 'I made a mistake.'

"Welcome to the club," Anne snorts at my comment as she starts walking again.

'I'm serious! I said something I shouldn't have to someone,' I try not to trip over my feet as I walk sideways to show her.

"I am too. Just apologize, it's not that big of a deal," her words start to stab into me before I remember Cedric's words.

"One thing I've learned is that you sometimes need to put Anne's words through a filter to figure out what she's trying to say." She isn't the type of person that would just shrug off another person's feelings so this must be her actual advice. Taking the emotion out of how she said it, she's telling me that it isn't as bad as I'm making it out to be and I need to apologize.

"Are you ready to see me careen out of control like a madwoman?" Her words bring a chuckle to my lips and a pit in my stomach. Her density knows no bounds. Sometimes, her being the epitome of joy and happiness can get a little irritating but it's honestly kind of refreshing.

Students of varying houses, but mostly Hufflepuff, start to join from various hallways creating a group of first years, all heading out to the grounds. A gentle breeze blows through us as we exit the hall.

Newly cut grass and fresh air tempt me to take off my mask and let the smell in as we maneuver down the sloops and to a flat, man-made, plateau. Even the most chatty of the congregation of students cease their talking to soak in the beautiful outdoors. The silent voices amplify the rushing of the wind, the grass being trampled over, even the swaying branches of the Forbidden Forest past the plateau.

Having a vague idea of where we're supposed to be, the group meanders to twenty broomsticks, lined in rows of four, as I use this rare opportunity to test my hearing.

Focusing hard, I try to block out distractions and zero in on the animals moving on the edges of the forest, the distant teachings of a Herbology class across the grounds, the soft waves of the lake until my ears find the footsteps of one lone professor. Elbowing Anna, I point to the left just as Madam Hooch comes up the hill.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" She barks as she reaches the crest of the hill and steps onto the plateau, "Everyone by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Even with her short stature, short white hair, and yellow eyes of a hawk, struck the fear of Merlin in the group as they scrambled into place. Looking down at the broom, I could tell they used the bottom of the barrel for flying lessons.

Rusling through my bag, my hand blindly grabs onto the cloth bag. Digging around, I manage to grab one blue beam and take it out. Focusing on the feeling of Mana around me, I concentrate on the hunger of my soul and the energy of the beam.

As if a dam burst, the familiar feeling of Dumbledore's Mana flows from the bead and into me. Looking into my palm, disappointment hits me as I see the now completely grey bead. I was trying to hold back.

"Stick out your right hand above your broom," Called Madam Hooch, now standing like a drill sergeant in front of the class, and say 'Up!'"

Bracing for it, I squeeze my eyes shut and repeat her command.