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Athena, Ron and Hermione watched Harry nervously all through dinner, not daring to talk about what they'd overheard, because Percy was sitting close by them. When they went upstairs to the crowded common room, it was to find Fred and George had set off half a dozen Dungbombs in a fit of end-of-term high spirits. Harry, who didn't want Fred and George asking him whether he'd reached Hogsmeade or not, sneaked quietly up to the empty dormitory and headed straight for his bedside cabinet. He pushed his books aside and quickly found what he was looking for — the leather-bound photo album Hagrid had given him two years ago, which was full of wizard pictures of his mother and father. He sat down on his bed, drew the hangings around him, and started turning the pages, searching, until...
He stopped on a picture of his parents' wedding day. There was his father waving up at him, beaming, the untidy black hair Harry had inherited standing up in all directions. There was his mother, alight with happiness, arm in arm with his dad. And there... that must be him. Their bestman... Harry had never given him a thought before.
If he hadn't known it was the same person, he would never have guessed it was Black in this old photograph. His face wasn't sunken and waxy, but handsome, full of laughter. Had he already been working for Voldemort when this picture had been taken? Was he already planning the deaths of the two people next to him? Did he realize he was facing twelve years in Azkaban, twelve years that would make him unrecognizable?
But the Dementors don't affect him, Harry thought, staring into the handsome, laughing face. He doesn't have to hear my Mum screaming if they get too close —
Harry slammed the album shut, reached over and stuffed it back into his cabinet, took off his robe and glasses and got into bed, making sure the hangings were hiding him from view.
The dormitory door opened.
"Harry?" said Ron's voice uncertainly.
But Harry lay still, pretending to be asleep. He heard Ron leave again, and rolled over on his back, his eyes wide open.
Ron came back to where Athena and Hermione were waiting for him, and shooked his head.
Athena truly felt bad for him; even if she believed in the possibility that Black was innocent, Harry needed her, she had to be there for her best friend.
She knocked on his door, there was no response, so she entered anyway.
Harry expected to hear Ron, but to his surprise, the voice was female.
"Harry?" Athena began softly. "Harry, I know you're awake."
It wasn't worth it to keep pretending so he spoke, rougher than he intended it to,
"I'm fine, if that's why you're here."
"That is why i'm here actually," said Athena. "But my guts are telling me that you're not fine, and they're usually right." she tried to lift his mood.
