"I laughed right in his face, Harry, along with the others. And as the years went on, I was relentlessly cruel to him. Directly and complicitly. At first, I’d bully him alongside everyone else and go back to my dormitory and feel terrible about it afterwards, but I eventually just became—used to doing it. The lines blurred, and I forgot I used to like him. All because of how scared I was. How cowardly I was. That I thought there was a real danger to be found in doing the right thing." She looks down at her plate and pushes a buttery clump of spinach with her fork. "And yet somehow, he let me back in, that last year. And the years after, as you know. Despite everything I did to him. And I eventually allowed myself to remember how much I liked him, even though this huge part of me felt like I really didn’t deserve it, to remember that. To remember how much joy he brought out in me, amongst all of the other rotten stuff that shaped me as a teenager." 