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She couldn't tell him, she couldn't tell him, she couldn't tell him! Derek was going to get so mad, he was going to be so mad about all of this, at her for not speaking up sooner because then they could've caught the guy--How could they have caught him? Dianna hadn't seen his face, just his mask, every time she closed her eyes at night she could see his mask, and feel the leather of his gloves and the rough texture of his cloak against----Why was Derek doing this to her? Why did he want her to relive these memories? What did it matter, now? The war was over, they weren't searching for death eaters, she hadn't died----

Dianna shut her eyes tightly, trying to force away the vivid images and she didn't feel herself lean forward and pressing her head into her brother's shoulder. The pounding of her brain was becoming too much, and all she wanted him to do was stop asking her questions. But it was Derek, and he was never going to stop, not until he saved the day and fixed everything. That was the reason she hadn't run to Derek, because she knew if she'd told him what had happened, what the death eater had done, her brother would have gone out and gotten himself killed trying to seek revenge. Revenge. Dianna wasn't stupid, she was far from stupid, she might be crazy, but she wasn't stupid----Derek was messed up, and he'd never gotten better, and she---she was not going to make him any worse.

But he wasn't going to stop, was he? He wasn't going to let her go, and Dianna knew it was pointless to try anymore. She pulled herself back up, shoulder slumped in a defeated manner. It was no use.

"The death eater," she said, somehow managing an emotionless reply after all the manic thoughts she'd just had. Dianna was beginning to fear that she had gone mad, but was a person able to admit that to themselves if they actually were? Her voice continued to be hollow, "He broke in on Halloween, and attacked me, and didn't---stop."