Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, places, etc. found in the Harry Potter books. These belong to J.K. Rowling and various others, such as Scholastic and Bloomsbury. In addition, the title of this story comes from a quote by William Blake: "Thy friendship oft has made my heart to ache: do be my enemy--for friendship's sake." I thought that it was appropriate.


Author's note: I wrote the beginning of this story on a very old computer over the course of a year or two. I decided that it would be worth more where other people could read it and criticize it. Also, I am American, and although I succeeded in using some of the most well known British English (e.g. Mum instead of Mom), any British readers will find it very obvious that I don't really know British English. Finally, let me apologize ahead of time for my terrible Hagrid dialect—I hope I've gotten his character right, if not his manner of speaking. Read, review and enjoy.



Do Be My Enemy for Friendship's Sake


ByMerlinsBeard




Chapter 1: Loneliness and Sympathy


We had been best friends for what seemed like forever. When I was eleven, trying to find an empty seat on the Hogwarts Express, feeling completely out of place, it was Percy who brought me into the same compartment as his brothers, Charlie and Bill. The Sixth and Seventh Years treated us like royalty, asking us what house we wanted to be in and telling us everything that we needed to know in order to survive our first week as First Years.

When Percy and I were both sorted into Gryffindor, it was official: we would be best friends. We got each other through the terrors of being in a strange place with even stranger people and creatures. Granted, it was mainly me who needed help getting through it. Percy's family was made up of wizards. I was a Muggle-born child who had only learned that magic existed when my letter came from Hogwarts.

I was still unsure of what had happened. Percy started dating Penelope. I knew that much. But what had happened to our friendship? I couldn't simply accept an answer that seemed too un-Weasley-like. Percy Weasley would not just ditch me.

I sat alone in the common room watching everyone go about his or her own business. The Sixth Years were huddled around the fireplace, like always. I often wondered if they were all vampires because the fire never seemed to overheat them as it did the rest of us. The Fifth Years were nowhere to be seen, no doubt planning some attack on the Slytherin common room under the leadership of Fred and George. The Fourth Years were doing homework. Potter and Company were doing the same. The First and Second Years had gone to bed already.

And the Seventh Years? My year? Wood's fan club? Who cared? Certainly not me. Nor Percy, although Percy was nowhere to be found, I reminded myself.

It wasn't supposed to be like this, I thought. You're not supposed to be alone during your Seventh Year. This was supposed to be the best year of my life. Not the worst.

And so that night was the same as every other night had been for the past few months—the first few months of school that year. I walked up to the dormitory, so I could be alone without the company of everyone else.

About an hour later, the rest of the Gryffindor Seventh Year girls walked into our dormitory. I looked up from the textbook I was reading and smiled at them, and they all returned the favor. I didn't hate them, after all. I just couldn't like them, and the same was supposed to be true for the four of them.

"Laura, what are you doing up here?" Cedar Treeman asked sweetly. Her real name was Cynthia, but the play off her last name fit her better. She was strong and the tallest girl in our year, but she managed to keep some sort of femininity.

"Don't, Cedar," Joan Creevey said quietly. She was soft spoken and considerate in an annoying, meddlesome way. I often wondered why she wasn't in Hufflepuff.

They all knew why I was in there, all alone. All of the Sixth and Seventh Years did, no matter what house they were in.

"I was only trying to be polite," Cedar mumbled, heading towards her wardrobe to get her pajamas.

"I know," I said, returning my gaze to the pages of my book.

"Laura?" Joan asked. "Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with us tomorrow?"

"What?" said the rest of us in the room.

"We can all hang out together. The four of us were only going to sit around The Three Broomsticks anyway. It can be the five of us instead," Joan said, smiling.

There was a slight pause. "Yeah. We want you to come," Tara Spencer said, walking over and sitting on the edge of my bed. "Just the five of us."

Tara was beautiful and, while she knew it, she tended to ignore it, more for her own sake than for anyone else.

I didn't respond immediately to the invitation. Perhaps I was being set up, I thought. But I doubted it. And I was lonely. "All right. Tomorrow, then," I said after several seconds.

The girls smiled and nodded.

Tomorrow became today, and the next thing I knew, I was walking to Hogsmeade with the four other Seventh Year Gryffindor girls. The road to Hogsmeade is where students had the most privacy. There are no paintings or ghosts around, and one can easily see if any other students or teachers are within listening distance. After we were away from the dementors, the real conversation started.

"I think I'm going to break up with Cedric," Rose Brown said. Rose was arguably the most stereotypically Gryffindor of any of us…and arguably the most Slytherin, as well.

"What?" the other three girls asked in unison.

"Are you crazy? He's gorgeous, a Quidditch player and a Hufflepuff," Tara said.

"Exactly. He's a Hufflepuff. They're so…dull. And he's only sixteen. I need some excitement."

"Like who?" I asked.

"Flint," Rose said, smiling broadly.

"The Slytherin?" Cedar asked in her typically straightforward way. "Ew."

"He's good looking," Rose said.

"So is Cedric," Tara said.

"But Marcus Flint is so…."

"Controversial?" I guessed.

"Exactly! Exciting. We'd be the talk of the school," Rose said.

"Why not date Professor Lupin? He's good looking and controversial," Cedar said.

The rest of us laughed.

"On second thought, leave him alone. He's mine," Cedar said.

"You can have Lupin if I can have Snape," Rose said, unable not to make a face.

"And I get Flitwick," Tara added.

"Dumbledore!" Joan said, cracking up with the rest of us.

They all turned to me.

"Well?" Rose asked.

"Well, what? You all obviously claimed my first choices," I said, smiling.

"Oh, come on."

"Just keep away from Hagrid and we'll get along fine."

We all laughed and joked about the professors for a few more minutes before we'd exhausted the material and started feeling bad for making fun of people we genuinely liked, or at least respected.

"So, you think I shouldn't break up with Cedric?" Rose asked to bring the conversation back to the subject at hand.

"No, it sounds like you should," Cedar said.

There was silence for a few minutes, and I started feeling the awkwardness of being around these girls outside of Hogwarts. Cedar must have felt it, too, because she quickly tried to keep the conversation going.

"So, we've fixed Rose's romantic dilemma. Who's next? Laura?"

I jumped a little and mentally laughed at myself for thinking that the silence had been awkward. I'd been hearing about their lives for years. After they figured out that I wasn't going to spread their secrets around Hogwarts, they began talking openly in the dormitory. However, it made things easier on all sides to pretend as if I wasn't there. My problems never came up.

"Sorry. No dilemmas to speak of," I said, trying to be nonchalant.

"Come now. There must be something worth talking about," Rose prodded, never one to give up on good gossip.

"Not really," I said, trying to think of a new subject.

"Not really? Come on. I've never heard of you dating anyone in the seven years you've been here. After all of the times you've had to listen to our problems, surely there's a 'not really' that we can help you with now," Rose insisted.

"I don't really want to talk about it," I said, blushing.

"Ahh… what did he do to you?" she asked.

"Rose, leave her alone," Tara said.

"He didn't do anything to me."

"Well, surely it wasn't your fault. It's always the boy's fault," Rose said, ignoring Joan's glare.

"He died," I said quickly.

What else could follow an admission like that other than an uncomfortable silence?

"The summer after our third year," I said, just to break the tension, thinking that maybe the length of time involved would make them less uneasy.

"Dan?" Tara asked. She immediately looked sorry for prying.

"Yes," I said.

"How?" Rose asked.

Cedar hit her lightly on the arm. "We all know how," she whispered.

"Not how he died," Rose whispered back. "How she was dating a Seventh Year when we were only going to be Fourth Years."

"She can hear you," Joan said almost angrily.

"I was spending the month with Percy at the Burrow," I said.

"You don't have to prove your story, Laura," Joan said, casting another dirty look at Rose.

"I wasn't saying she was lying. We all know she was there when it happened. I only meant that there's a large age difference—"

"And no one guessed or knew because of the age gap," I said.

"You don't have to say anything," Joan said. "We believe you."

"What's not to believe?"

"That you were dating the Quidditch Captain who was three years older than you," Rose challenged, quick to meet anger with anger. It's not a trait I should condemn too quickly.

"I shouldn't have come," I said, feeling tears come into my eyes and turning to head back to the castle.

"Don't go," Joan said.

"Yeah, we want to hear about it," Cedar said.

Perhaps loneliness makes you stupid, or maybe anger does. A combination of both certainly must. I never would have told them without both. Not because I didn't trust them—I'd heard enough about each of them to keep them silent. Not because I didn't know them well—I'd lived with them for over six years. I simply could not have opened up without first being provoked.

"My parents had always wanted to travel, but I was born before they could really get the chance. So they decided to take a month and see Europe."

"Laura, you don't have to tell us—" Joan started.

"Then you'll think I was lying, and the lie will be one more thing you pity me for," I snapped.

She looked a little hurt but joined the others in listening.

"So, I spent the month with the Weasleys. Mrs. Weasley didn't mind having another person to look after. I spent most of my time with Percy, but Percy has always been a workaholic, and I started getting bored. I started spending more time with the other Weasley children, especially Ginny. We spent a lot of time watching the others play Quidditch at their pitch behind the house. They all love the sport, including Percy, though he's never been good at flying.

"I went back to the pitch to find Ginny one day while only Dan was practicing. He didn't have as much talent as his older brothers, or even Fred and George, but he was excellent at strategy. He never thought he was a good enough player to be a chaser for our team. He thought that his brothers had gotten him on the team, not his talent. He practiced all of the time."

"I never knew that," Cedar said.

"Only the Weasleys did, I think. Anyway, he noticed me watching him and said that if I was going to stay, I might as well help him practice. He told me to fly around and throw golf balls for him to catch. I—"

"Golf balls?" Cedar asked.

"Muggle sport. They're about the size of a snitch," Tara, a half-blood, explained.

"Oh, sorry," Cedar said.

"It's OK. Well, it only took about a minute for Dan to discover that there was a good reason that I always stayed on the ground with Ginny while they practiced. We had to spend a few hours every afternoon for a week teaching me how to fly before I could help him practice at all. But I liked talking to him more than I liked Quidditch, and after a while, we talked more than we practiced."

"It sounds romantic," Joan said, smiling.

I laughed. "Not at all. We fought all of the time. Eventually we figured out what topics to avoid." I wasn't angry anymore, but I was caught up in the story, so I continued. "I knew that I liked him, but I just thought of it as a school girl crush on a boy who was older than me. Then one day, I walked out to meet him, Ginny, or whoever was out there. I saw him flying around slowly, which he usually did when he was working on a new play. No one ever interrupted this, so I stood there watching him. After a few minutes, he noticed me standing on the edge of the pitch and flew over. He got off his broom, leaned over and kissed me.

"I pulled away. I hadn't been expecting it, and he'd scared me."

"Was it your first kiss?" Rose asked.

"Yes. I was only going to be at the Burrow for about another week, and in that time, Dan only kissed me a couple more times. The age difference bothered us both a little, and we thought it would bother everyone else more. So…why tell anyone, we figured. And…you can't tell anyone. If one more person knows, then the whole school knows, and there are five Weasleys who don't need to be reminded of what happened. OK?"

All four of them promised quickly, and at that point, I could only trust them.

"So the Weasleys don't know?" Tara asked after a minute.

"There was never a good time to tell them. They don't talk about him. Ever. At least not while I'm around. Anyway, it doesn't really matter anymore."

We walked the rest of the way to The Three Broomsticks in silence. Four of us claimed a table near the back while Cedar ordered five butterbeers at the counter. She rejoined us a few minutes later. Madame Rosmerta followed her, carefully balancing a tray with our drinks. She placed the bottles in the center of the table before walking away quickly to serve everyone else in the overcrowded pub.

The five of us began to drink without talking.

"You know," Joan said after a few minutes, "there's no reason why you can't hang out with us at Hogwarts. You don't have to seclude yourself just because—"

"Thanks, but no thanks," I said, coldly. Upon seeing her expression, I added, "It's never been you four. You know that. You understand."

"No, I don't," Joan said, but she didn't try to push the issue.

Slowly, the conversation returned to more mundane, comfortable topics, and after about an hour and a few butterbeers each, we were laughing and having a good time.

"You're messing with us," Rose said.

"No. I was looking out a window with Dave, and a big cat and dog went into the Whomping Willow. I have no idea how they did it. All I know is that one second the willow was whomping, and the next second, it was frozen and two animals were walking into the tree," Cedar said.

"You've been obsessed with that old tree forever. When Potter and Percy's little brother hit it with that car, you cried," Tara said.

"I didn't," Cedar protested.

"Did too," the rest of us said, laughing.

"So I was worried about it. Poor thing. Had a sling and everything," Cedar said, suddenly very somber.

We all laughed even harder.

"So there you are. We've been looking for you four."

I stopped laughing immediately. The other girls, looking over my head and still smiling, gradually grew silent as well.

"I thought we were all going to check out Zonko's," Wood said.

"Change of plans," Cedar said.

I stood up and brushed some nonexistent dirt off my cloak. "I have some homework to finish up back at the castle. I'll see you…." I said, smiling at the girls and ignoring the boys beside me.

"Where's Percy?"

"Oliver, shut up," Rose said.

"We'll walk back with you, Laura," Tara said, standing as well.

"We were heading back to the castle, too," Adam Still, Tara's boyfriend, said. He had never truly caught on to the fact that not everyone got along and most people liked him for that.

"No, I still need to buy… something at… I don't know, I have to buy something," Mark Jordan, Joan's boyfriend, said, trying to ease some tension.

"Now, Mark. What kind of men would we be if we didn't walk the girls back to the castle?"

"Men?" I muttered.

Wood just smiled sweetly, making me even angrier. "Unless, of course, you were waiting for Percy and Penelope," he said to me.

"Let's just go if we're going to, OK?" Joan asked, standing and giving Wood one of her looks.

He stepped back and motioned for the girls to walk in front of him. I walked out of the bar before they could catch up and ducked inside of Honeydukes. After about five minutes, I made my way back into the street.

"Hey, Laura!"

I turned towards the voice. It was Percy. He jogged up to me.

"Hi," I said, smiling broadly. I talked to Percy in between classes and at some meals, but it had been a while since I'd been around him outside of or after school.

"Hey, listen, have you seen Penelope? I lost her in Flourish and Blotts," he said, looking in both directions down the street.

I sighed. "No, I haven't."

"Oh. OK. Well, maybe she went to The Three Broomsticks, then. See you," he said, walking off.

I drew my cloak around me and started back towards the castle. About halfway there, I heard someone call my name again.

I turned to see Professor Hagrid and smiled to greet him.

"'ello, Laura. 'ow are ya?"

"I'm fine," I lied.

"Really? Ya seemed like ya were mopin'."

I turned on my fake smile that I'd been using more and more often. "I'm just taking my time getting back to the castle. How're you?"

"Oh, well…I've been better."

I nodded. "So have I."

"Want t' talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about, really."

It was his turn to nod. "Ya know, sometimes ya just 'ave to play with th' cards yer dealt."

"What?"

"Me. I weren't meant to be a professor."

"Nonsense. You love it. I can tell."

"Yes, but the students aren't enjoyin' themselves."

I didn't answer at first. "Look. I know Malfoy's incident shook you up. Maybe you started off too big with the younger students, right? They should start with… less dangerous creatures, but that's no reason not to work with more interesting creatures with your older students, right?"

His smile brightened. "Yer right, I suppose."

"I think so."

"I think yer right. I'm gonna go back and work on somethin'," he said, walking faster, which, for Hagrid, was pretty fast. "Thanks!"

"You're welcome," I said, although I doubt he heard me.

Once I reached the gates, I ate a piece of chocolate and hurried through the gates and towards the castle. When I got back to the common room, the rest of the Seventh Years were already there, in their normal place near the center of the room. Joan stood up when she saw me and intercepted me before I could reach the door to the stairway leading to the dormitory.

"I'm sorry," she said.

I tried to say something but she cut me off.

"Not for Wood. I should have said that I was sorry about Daniel."

I shook my head. "I shouldn't have told you in the first place. I usually don't just… ramble like that."

"You should have told someone sooner."

"Tell who?" I asked quickly.

"Any one of us would have gladly listened," she said. "We don't dislike you."

"I know," I said, a tad bit defensively.

"And you don't dislike us."

"No."

"Then why not come over with me—"

"I don't dislike you, but—"

"Oliver? Why not just let it go? It's ancient history," she said.

"Not to us."

"But it's stupid."

I shook my head. "I'm not the only one you'd have to convince. It's complicated. You know that. Everyone knows that."

"But why isolate yourself?" she asked.

"I have homework, Joan. I appreciate the thought, but I don't want anyone's pity except my own. I'll see you later," I said, dodging past her and hurrying upstairs.

Chapter 2: The Truth is but a Vision


The next morning, I joined Percy at breakfast. He looked up at me and smiled.

"Good morning," I said, looking down at my plate.

"Morning," he said. "How are you?"

"Fine," I said, a little harshly.

"You don't sound fine."

"Yeah, well…."

He didn't respond immediately, but after a few seconds, hazarded, "Did you have fun at Hogsmeade?"

"For the most part."

"What'd you do?" he asked, biting into his toast.

"Talked to Joan, Rose, Cedar and Tara," I said.

He swallowed and frowned slightly. "Why?"

"Because they asked me to join them," I answered, frowning back.

"Why?" he asked again, looking confused.

"They were being nice."

"But why?"

"Oh, what do you care?" I asked, grabbing a piece of toast from the center of the table.

"What do you mean by that?"

I picked up a napkin, stood up, and turned my back on him. "Figure it out, Percy," I snapped, heading out of the Great Hall.

I passed Joan and Professor McGonagall, who were standing in the hall right outside of the Great Hall.

"…her. Please, Professor. I can't do…," Joan was saying.

Professor McGonagall looked uncharacteristically unsure.

I ate breakfast in the hall outside of the Transfiguration classroom. People, mainly from Ravenclaw, started coming, eventually. Wendy Lowe sat down next to me.

"Hi Laura. Can you do me a favor?" she asked.

"What?" I asked with no curiosity. Wendy and I got along, but weren't exactly friends.

"Give this to Adam Still for me?" she asked, handing over a piece of parchment.

I sighed. "I don't—"

"I can't give it to him myself, and you're a Gryffindor," she said, dropping the letter in my lap. "Thank you," she said, standing up and leaving before I could protest.

I rolled my eyes and stood up, as well. Professor McGonagall was coming to unlock the classroom. Joan was talking to her again, and Professor McGonagall was nodding slowly.

I sat in my normal place: in the front row, on the corner, next to the windows, next to Percy. Except now Percy was sitting in the desk that was front and center and in front of Penelope.

"Good morning. We're working on transfiguring medical equipment out of natural materials this week. You will have a partner to work with. You'll be going outside today to gather materials you believe will be useful. On Wednesday and Friday, you will be given a hypothetical medical emergency and must attempt to solve it with the materials you gathered. Your textbooks will help you.

"Partners… let's see. Treeman and Creevey. Spencer and…Still. Weasley and Lowe." She continued pairing people until she was left with only two partner-free students. "And Debman and…Wood," McGonagall said, and if I didn't know better, I'd swear she looked as though she was feeling at least a little guilty.

My jaw dropped and I prepared myself to object, but the rest of the class was doing that for me, just by muttering their shock. Wood and I were not paired up. Percy and Wood were not paired up. Ever. Not even by Snape, who tired of dealing with our drama sometime during our third year.

"No switching partners. Containers for collecting materials are next to the door. Now, go outside," McGongall said.

Wood and I had the same idea. We were at McGonagall's desk, arguing, before anyone else even had the chance to stand up. The class filed out, slowly, as Wood and I tried to talk over each other.

"No—"

"Absolutely not!"

"…crazy? We're—"

"…stupidest idea—"

"…Joan? Did she put you—?"

"Quiet!" McGonagall said, throwing up her hands. "It's about time you two put your childish issues behind you and grew up! Either get along for a few hours or fail. Now, go!"

I was shocked. Professor McGonagall, as strict as she was, rarely yelled and never insulted us. Wood and I walked away, muttering obscenities under our breath. We picked up some containers and left the castle in complete silence.

Outside of the big oak doors leading into the castle, we both stopped to think. I opened my book to the correct chapter and started skimming the text.

"Grass, moss, scum off the top of the lake…those are easy enough. Oak bark, pine needles…not too bad. After that it starts getting more interesting. Poison ivy, poison oak, lady's breath, Venus flytrap teeth, sap from…enchanted trees, roots from nightshade, pollen from blue bonnet, cats-eye, dream catcher, guard's feet…."

"Look, I'll go this way, and you go in the opposite direction, all right?" Wood said, pointing towards Hagrid's cabin.

I shrugged. "Fine with me. The Forbidden Forest is on your side of the grounds. Have fun finding some of this stuff…. 'Wolfsbane, bloodvine, dementor's hug.' I can only imagine some of the creatures that would eat this stuff."

Wood shivered very slightly. "Right, well, we can't go into the forest anyway. It's off limits."

"Where else would we get this? It's for a class. Now, I don't know about you, but I'm not entirely fond of the Forbidden Forest, or the caves, which are in my direction and where we'll need to find some of this fungi. In situations like this, I'm not very picky about whose company I'm in," I said, dog-earring the page with a chart of commonly transfigured plants.

Wood didn't answer at first. He just started off in the direction of the forest. I was a little surprised—and insulted, of course. After he was a few meters from the bottom of the stairs that led up to the oak doors, he turned towards me. "Well?"

"Well, what?" I asked, unwilling to just hand over a victory. He'd have to ask me to come.

"I'd rather face the forest than the caves," he said.

So, I'd gain a victory later. The truth was, I'd rather face the forest, too.

"Let's get the normal stuff first, OK?" I asked, hurrying down the stairs after him and then heading towards the lake. "Any idea how to identify an oak from every other tree around this place?"

"My business is with the sky, not the ground," Wood said.

I rolled my eyes. "How poetic. Anyway, tell that to the tree you flew into during our first year," I said, smirking.

"If I wasn't so busy watching you and Percy to make sure you didn't kill yourselves, I wouldn't have flown into it. As I recall, I was yelling at you because you were flying straight for the Owlery," he said.

"And I missed it."

"You didn't. You just flew in one window and out another."

"That's easier said than done."

"Apparently. Percy ran into one of the owl's cages. Poor owl. Didn't see what was coming."

I laughed a little, caught myself and scowled again. "It's not our fault you weren't watching where you were going."

"No? Well, tell that to the tree I hit because it seems to blame the two of you for the whole incident," Wood said.

I smiled but turned my head so he couldn't see.

"So…how are Percy and Penelope?" Wood asked tauntingly.

"Jealous?" I asked.

"Of Penel—"

"Because Percy has a girlfriend while you, Mr. Captain of Gryffindor's Quidditch Team, are single," I said.

"See, it's funny. I care more about my friends than some girl who comes along," he said.

"Whatever," I muttered.

"Right, see, I forgot. What does Laura know about friendship, anyway?" he said coldly. He didn't sound like he was just taunting me anymore. He sounded…well, angry.

"What?" I asked, narrowing my eyes as I bent down to pull up some grass by a large rock by the lake.

"You heard me."

"Oh, I heard you. I just can't believe you said it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

"You who stabbed your best friend in the back," I spat, standing up so he wasn't towering over me.

"Me?" he asked, his eyes wide, jaw dropped. "Me? Who betrayed whom first?"

"What?"

"And I still made the team, second year, using one of the school's crappy broomsticks."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, louder and angrier.

"He stole my broom!"

For several seconds—seconds I had to look into Wood's smug face, I might add—I stood silently, piecing together what he'd said. Finally, I figured it out, and responded, "He took your broom because he was having Charlie improve it. Your broom wasn't exactly great, Wood. You never noticed that it flew ten times better after you got it back?" Wood's disappearing smirk prompted me to continue accusing him. "Charlie Weasley filed down those knots on the handle and straightened out the tail. You weren't supposed to try out for the team until the next day. You went early, you git! Percy wanted to surprise you. It was supposed to be a gift!"

Satisfied and sure that it would take at least a full minute before Wood could process all of that, I leaned over to scoop out some pond scum in a little container Professor McGonagall had given each group. The next thing I knew, I was falling face first into the lake. Before I could catch myself, I was fully submerged in the knee-deep water. I stood up quickly, reaching for my wand, and turned to Wood, fuming.

"You're lying," he said, reaching for his own wand.

"I'm not. You had our whole house against him before he ever got a chance to explain. You must have told everyone what you thought happened, except with a new spin. Percy wasn't just sabotaging you, you said. No…he was against Gryffindor!" I laughed dryly. "I can't believe they fell for it, but you were part of the team, then," I said, starting to climb out of the cold water before having a significantly better idea. "Wingardium leviosa!"

Wood's feet flew from under him. I moved him effortlessly over the water and removed the charm.

He came out of the water, sputtering. "You little—"

"You asked for it, you—"

"I asked for it? This whole thing was your fault!"

"What?" I scoffed.

"That's right," he said, nodding and taking a step towards me (and the shore). "You betrayed me. You took Percy's side, no questions asked. If you would've stuck by us both, we'd all still be friends now. If you'd been a good friend—"

"If I'd been a good friend?" I interrupted. "You didn't ask questions before turning the whole house against him! You didn't even think that your best friend wasn't trying to hurt you, just to help you?" I asked, crawling onto the large rock by the lake.

"Expelliarmus!" I said, before he could magic me back into the water. I caught his wand in my left hand. Awkwardly, but I still caught it.

"You didn't ask questions before assuming I was just backstabbing him for no reason?" Wood asked, almost calmly, as he climbed out of the lake.

"It looked pretty bad. To Percy and me, it looked like you backstabbed him for no reason," I answered quietly, caught off guard by his sudden change in demeanor.

"And when the older Weasleys turned the tables on me? What about then?" he asked, the volume of his voice increasing again. "I was alone, Laura! Completely alone. No friends, no one to even talk to. No one! And you just watched from a distance."

"You had Quidditch."

"And Quidditch is still all I have," he snapped. "Or I did until we lost that damned match against Hufflepuff. Hufflepuff, of all teams…."

"You have friends," I said, rolling my eyes. "And from what I've heard, you can still win that damned Cup if you want to. With a little luck, and if you win the rest of your games, of course, but you can still win," I said, standing.

"Right. Slytherin would have to lose to someone besides us, and—"

"And Ravenclaw can supposedly beat them."

"And even if they did, we'd still probably have to beat Slytherin by over one hundred points," he finished.

I shrugged. "Then win by one hundred points. The only reason you haven't won the Cup yet is because Potter has some rotten luck."

"Rotten luck? If Potter had rotten luck, he'd be dead about three times over by now. At least."

I nodded, as this was true if rumors were correct. "You can still win if you put your team up to it," I said, climbing off the rock, trying my best not to trip over the wet robes tugging at my legs. "Now look what you've done," I muttered. "We're both angry and wet."

Fairly sure Wood was distracted enough by Quidditch that he wouldn't try to curse me again, I tossed him his wand. He caught it easily and pointed it at himself. "Repelio!" He was instantly dry.

I performed the same charm and tucked my wand into my pocket. "Are we going to work on this project?" I asked, not bothering to look even in his direction.

"I see no alternatives," he said.

"All right, then. There's still stuff we can get on the kinder parts of the grounds. You're sure you can't tell an oak from a spruce or a cedar?"

"No, I can't," he answered.

"OK. We'll just have to take a stab in the dark, then," I said, walking up to the nearest tree without needles and tearing off some bark.

"I'm sorry I pushed you into the lake. It was…impulsive and…immature," Wood said as if it pained him.

I nodded. "Yes, it was."

He waited as I reached into my book bag for my Transfiguration book. "That's it? 'Yes, it was'?"

I sighed, took a deep breath and said, "And I'm sorry for magicking you into the lake. It was a better way to do a very immature and impulsive thing."

Wood actually laughed. "I have a feeling that's the best I'm going to get, so I accept your apology."

"And I accept yours."

Oliver walked, slowly and aimlessly, around the edge of the lake near the big rock for a few minutes while I tried to skim the chapter I suppose we technically were supposed to have read before that assignment.

"Good idea, by the way," he said. "Disarming me, I mean. I was debating between a spell that would make you extremely heavy, causing you to sink to the bottom of the lake, or a curse that would suffocate you, which would have been a less stylish approach to Plan A."

I looked at him, angrily and, realizing he was only kidding, smiled. "Thanks."

We found a few more things on the list. It took about an hour because the two of us were horrible at identifying plants and were talking as little as possible. After running out of plants we thought we could find on the grounds, we were preparing ourselves to head into the Forbidden Forest.

"We'll only go in a little way, right?" I asked.

"How am I supposed to know?" Wood said.

"You've never been in there?" I looked away from the edge of the forest to give him a skeptical look.

"Have you?" he asked.

"Of course not! Percy's my best friend. The forest is off-limits. Need I say more? But you—"

"Why would I go into the forest? I spend too much time flying."

I returned my attention to the forest and laughed slightly. "Why did the Sorting Hat place us in Gryffindor, again?"

"No other house would take us?" Wood guessed.

"What does the Hat do if you don't fit in any house?" I said, more to myself than to him.

"I've heard you pick a number one through ten."

I laughed. "Let's just get this over with."

"Ladies first," Wood said, motioning towards the forest.

"Oh, you wimp," I said, not moving.

"Hey, I put myself in front of hurled Quaffles on an almost daily—"

"A wimp who doesn't know he's a wimp," I interrupted, grinning. "That's the worse kind of wimp there is."

"I don't see you walking in there," he said, starting forward.

"Just be the man of the situation, eh?" I said sarcastically.

"Yeah, yeah" he muttered, heading through the first row of trees. "We're in. So… this is it? Not much of a—"

"RAWRRRR!" I grabbed the back of his neck with my fingertips.

He yelled and spun around to find me doubling over with laughter.

"Oh, you will pay for that," he said, seemingly battling himself on whether he should be fuming mad or laughing hysterically with me.

"Oh will I? Maybe I should be the man of the situation."

"I still hate you, you know?" Wood asked, following me as I walked past him, farther into the forest.

"And I still hate you," I said, still laughing, but not as forcefully.

"I just wanted to make sure we were still on the same page," he said.

"We are."

We kept walking and the deeper into the trees we got, the darker it became and the more afraid I got.

"I don't know what we're looking for," I said after we'd been walking for many minutes.

"You don't?"

"No."

"I was waiting for you to point something out!" he said.

"And I was waiting for you to point something out."

"Let's just get out of here."

"Scared?" I asked, smirking.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing.

"Where?" I asked, spinning around.

"Here," he hissed in my ear.

I screamed and spun back around, arms flailing.

He laughed, easily blocking my swings.

"Ass!" I said.

"You scared me first."

"We were on the edge of the forest then. I just want to get out of here. There must be a reason this place is forbidden, and I'm in no hurry to learn of it."

"Scared?" he mocked.

"Let's just say I'm a stage above hearing and seeing things and a stage below peeing my pants."

"Oh, thanks for that image." He paused. "Actually, it's kind of funny."

I laughed. "I'll tell you what. I'll run in that direction, you run in the opposite direction, and we'll see who gets out first," I said, pointing in front of us.

"Fine with me. You'll be running into the forest."

"What?" I asked.

"Hogwarts is that way," he said, pointing to some place approximately ninety degrees left of where I had pointed.

"No. It's that way." I pointed again.

"You're crazy."

"Me?"

"Oh, this is stupid." He got out his wand. "Point me!" He paused. "We're both wrong. It's that way." He pointed to a place in between where we had been pointing.

"I was closer," I said, smiling.

"You were not. I clearly was closer to where—" He stopped arguing when he saw my smirk. "McGonagall's right."

"How so?"

"We do have some childish issues," he said, walking quickly in the direction the spell had pointed.

"Yeah, well…." I hurried to catch up and get slightly in front of him. "We also have some not so childish issues."

Wood didn't respond.

After about fifteen minutes of arguing with myself, I said, "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I'm sorry," I said, so he could hear me.

Again, Wood didn't say anything.

"I should have been a better friend and heard you out, no matter how bad it looked. And I'm sorry."

Still no answer.

"You want to know the truth? It wasn't Percy who was jealous. It was me."

"You stole my—" he started to ask.

"No one stole your damned broom, Wood."

"Then why were you jealous?" he asked.

"Because while Percy was my best friend, and I was one of his…the truth is you were a better best friend for him."

"Why?"

"Come on. I was forced to be a sort of tomboy, and I wasn't good at it."

"No, you weren't."

I smiled a little. "I tried."

"We didn't care that you were a girl."

"No, but I did. But it was more than that. You two used to be…you used to be like Fred and George. Joan and Tara. Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. I was jealous because you were his best friend, except for Dan, and I wasn't."

"If things hadn't turned out the way they did, it wouldn't be like that now," he said.

I looked back at him. "Who's to say how things would have turned out?"

"Things didn't turn out so badly, did they?" he asked.

I faced forward again, to watch where I was going. "I don't know. I don't know how badly things would have turned out," I said, showing too much emotion.

"Percy will get used to having a girlfriend and will—"

"No, I don't think so."

"But before this year? Before Penelope?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said. "Bad stuff has happened. For a while, things were good… I think."

"You think?"

"Yeah, I think."

"But you don't know?"

"Bad stuff happened," I repeated.

We kept walking, fast, but careful to keep going in the same direction.

"I'm sorry," Wood said, eventually.

"You don't have anything to apologize to me for. Percy is—"

"No. I do owe you an apology for what I said earlier. To blame you for everything was unfair and incorrect."

"Not completely unfair."

"No, not completely. It was partially your fault," Oliver happily admitted.

"But not completely," I said.

"No."

"OK. Thank you."

He paused for a few minutes as we kept walking out of the forest. "When you said that bad things happened…did you mean…Dan?"

"Partially," I said.

He stopped walking and I reluctantly turned to see why.

"I'm sorry about Dan. I wanted to tell Percy and you that, but…."

"I understand," I said. "Thanks," I added after realizing it was the correct response.

"I got to know him in Quidditch. After the fight, well, he tried to talk me down. If I would have listened…."

"He wouldn't have died," I said quietly.

"What?" Wood asked.

"Nothing. Never mind," I said, starting to walk again.

"No, I heard you, I just didn't understand," Wood said, already on my heels. "What do you mean he wouldn't have died if I would have listened to him?"

"I didn't mean anything. Who's to say what would have happened had anything changed," I said, speeding up.

"No. What do you mean?" Wood walked in front of me, forcing me to stop walking towards the castle.

"Just drop it, Wood."

"I can't!"

"Fine! Then pester me until we die in here."

"Laura, what did you mean?"

"Please drop it. It doesn't matter. He died and there is nothing we can do about it." I said, almost managing to shove past him.

He grabbed my arm. "You cannot just tell me that it is my fault that one of my friends died and drop it. You can't!"

"It's not your fault! It's mine!" I said, angrily. Realizing what I said, I shook my head fiercely.

"What do you mean?" Wood asked.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I need you to talk about it!"

"And I need you to drop it!" I barked.

"Damn it, this is more important than our stupid grudges against each other!"

"Then why can't you let it go?" I asked.

"You haven't!"

"I can't, and you won't either if—"

"It is my fault, then! Oh, my G—"

"Shut up!" I said. "It is not your fault, and…just forget about it, Oliver. Please."

He opened his mouth to argue, then stopped. He raised his pointer finger to his lips and turned his head slightly to the right.

I heard a little rustle from not far away. He must have heard it, too. We looked at each other for a second, turned towards the edge of the forest, and ran like hell.

"Can't you run any faster?" Wood asked, practically breathing down my neck.

"If I could, I would," I panted. "Just pass me."

"I can't just leave you out here."

I'd have laughed if I wasn't wheezing for air. "I'd leave you."

"No, you wouldn't," he said. "But if you can't run any faster—"

"The edge!" I interrupted, finding a tiny bit of extra speed.

The two of us broke out of the Forbidden Forest, but didn't stop running. After we were a few hundred feet from the edge, we slowed to stop and turned to face the forest.

"What do you think it was?" I asked.

"I'm not sure. It was big, though," he said, breathing deeply, but not gasping for air as I was.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Vampire?"

"We weren't that deep into the forest. Not to mention, a vampire would have attacked before we heard it. I heard a rumor about giant spiders."

"Giant spiders?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Give me a break," I said. "Maybe it was a centaur."

"Maybe. Wait…something's coming out of the woods."

We stood completely still, watching the shape become clearer, until….

"Hagrid?" I asked, smiling a little. "We ran from Hagrid? Embarrassing."

"What kind of Gryffindors are we?" Wood asked seriously.

I shrugged. "There are different types of bravery, I guess. Some people can face death. Some people can face life."

Wood nodded, giving the comment more thought than it really deserved. "And which one can we face, again?"

"I think it's fair to say that we can't face death," I said, laughing slightly.

"And at facing life?" he asked, maybe addressing himself more than me.

I looked up at him and, for the first time in five years or more, I didn't have to fight the urge to get angry. "Nobody's perfect," I said, finally.

He laughed. "After all of the shit we've put ourselves through, I think we've done a decent job at facing life."

"Maybe. Wood, listen. Dan tried to talk me down, too. A few weeks before he died, we got into a big argument over why the two of us hate each other. I didn't listen either."

"What did Dan say?" Wood asked. He seemed to care, which I found surprising, although I shouldn't have. Dan had been nice to Oliver when the rest of the Weasleys were turning everyone else against Oliver for a month or so right after the broom incident.

"He said that we hated each other because we thought we had to. He said that maybe we did have to for some reason."

"What did he mean by that?"

"I have no idea. Knowing Dan, probably something along the lines of everything happening for a reason."

"What reason could there be for the three of us making each other miserable? Or for Dan…you know?"

I looked down and decided to ignore the latter part. "Maybe, if we were all still friends, I would have tried to fly a broom again and actually hit the Owlery," I tried to joke.

He didn't laugh. "When you said that it was my fault—"

"I never meant it. I wasn't prepared for the subject, and I never would have said it had I been thinking…not even to you. A lot of things could have changed what happened that morning, but you weren't one of them."

"You were there, weren't you?" he asked.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," I said, trying to smile so he wouldn't take it personally.

He looked away.

"Did things turn out all right for you? Overall?" I asked after a minute.

He thought for a second and nodded. "They turned out all right," he said, looking back in my direction.

I smiled. "I'm glad. I wish we would have talked years ago. It would have made it easier for us to just forgive each other, then."

"Probably."

"We'd have been friends within a week if we'd have made better decisions."

"Probably," Wood said again, more hesitantly.

"And what's the difference between a week and a few years?" I asked, half seriously.

"About five years minus one week," Wood answered.

I sighed. "You don't understand," I said, mainly to myself.

"Understand what?"

"I don't know," I said.

He shook his head and started walking towards the castle. "It's late. We've probably missed lunch."

"You don't understand that we've fought for years over nothing," I said quickly. I walked to catch up with him and he stopped begrudgingly. "You don't understand that I am sorry for what happened, but that I can't change it. You don’t understand that I need your forgiveness right now." I knew I should shut up, but I couldn't. "You don't understand that we could still have been friends if the fight hadn't happened, but, more than that, we could still be friends despite the fight. You said you were completely alone after the fight. That's me now, Wood. Except I don't even have Quidditch. If you wanted me to pay for what happened our second year, I have. I am."

He started walking again.

"That's it? No response?"

"None."

I hurried to catch up again. "I thought you could face life. Right now, I'm part of what life is throwing at you."

"And I plan on dodging it so it won't hit me," he said coldly.

"It's going to hit you, all right," I muttered, getting in his path.

He tried to get past me, but I countered all of his attempts.

"What?" Wood asked, eventually giving up.

"I'm not that easy to dodge, am I?"

"No, and it's quite annoying."

"That's life. Do you think if you just ignore me, that I'll go away?"

"I was hoping so, yes," Wood said.

The same cold, apathetic hatred that he usually directed at me was back. I still knew enough about him to know that any further conversation was pointless.

I looked up at him and nodded. "OK," I said quietly. I turned my back on him and walked back to the castle, using all of my self-control not to cry or get noticeably angry.

Chapter 3: Rows and Reconciliations


After releasing some fury by stomping up to the Gryffindor common room (after making sure Wood had not followed me inside), I released some more fury by stomping through the common room and up to my dormitory.

Joan was digging through her trunk. She looked up and smiled. "Hi."

"Hi," I responded flatly.

She frowned. "Something wrong?"

"Did you really think that one afternoon of trying to find bizarre plants in the Forbidden Forest would make a difference?" I asked angrily, dropping down onto my bed.

"You know I set you up?"

"It was pretty easy to figure it out."

"I'm sorry. I thought… maybe if you just yelled at each other for a while then you'd get it out of your systems."

"There's more to it than that." I picked up my pillow and threw it across the room at the closed door. "It's him that's the problem."

"Oh?"

"I practically begged him to forgive and forget." I closed my eyes. "God, what was I thinking? And, you know, it's not the forgive part that's his problem. Or mine. We can't forget. We can't forget every single little thing that we did to each other for five years."

"Maybe with some time—"

"It won't matter. I have one more memory to add to the list, now," I spat.

"I'm sorry, Laura."

"And it's never been about Wood and I. Percy and Wood are the ones who really need to yell at each other and… they'll never forgive each other."

"How do you know?"

"Because Percy still holds a grudge against me for accidentally hexing him in Charms during our third year. He never forgets anything. And he rarely forgives anyone."

"Oliver holds grudges, too," Joan said.

"Obviously," I muttered.

"Still… what harm would there be in making it so they had to talk about what happened during second year?" Joan asked, smiling slightly.

I sat up quickly. "You just don't learn, do you?" I asked.

"No," Joan said. "And if the three of you—"

"Joan, stop. I don't know why you care all of a sudden, but you're making everything worse."

She looked a little hurt, but I wasn't in a very sympathetic mood.

"The whole thing is so stupid, and you're miserable because of it," she said.

"I'm not miserable," I said, wondering if it was the truth.

She nodded and I could tell she thought I was lying. "Would you like to come downstairs with me?"

"No, I have some homework."

"There's nothing Oliver can do—"

"But that would be letting him win," I interrupted.

She laughed. "I can talk to him if you want."

"I'd rather you didn't," I said as seriously as I could.

She nodded. "Then I won't. But think about having Percy and Oliver talk to each other."

"I will," I lied quickly so that I could have the room to myself.

She left and I took my Transfiguration book out of my book bag, to try to find a way out of failing the project McGonagall had assigned. Wendy Lowe's letter to Adam fell into my lap. I picked it up, groaned, and placed it on my nightstand.

I looked up some plants from the Transfiguration book in my Herbology book and marked them, so I'd be able to get those plants the next day. I kept looking at the letter on the nightstand.

"Oh, hell," I said to myself after a couple of hours, picking the letter up and standing. "I just have to hand it to Adam and walk away. No talking. No yelling."

I walked downstairs and looked over to the Seventh Years' area of the common room. They were all gathered in their tight group. I walked over to the group and handed Adam the letter.

He took it, looking questionably at me.

"Wendy," I said, pretending to whisper but making sure all of them heard me.

He nodded and tucked it in his cloak while the rest of the Seventh Years laughed.

"Where's Oliver?" Mark asked.

I looked at him. "What do you mean?" I'd been expecting Wood to be there and didn't even notice that he wasn't.

"You didn't kill him, did you?" Cedar asked, smiling.

I furrowed up my brow slightly. "He didn't come back in?"

"We haven't seen him. We assumed he was just pissed off at you and wasn't coming into the common room in case you were in here," Adam said.

"He's probably in the Quidditch stadium," I said, shrugging. "I haven't seen him since I came inside."

"You didn't come inside together?"

"No."

"We're not supposed to be outside after dark alone because of Black," Tara said, looking worried.

I looked out of the window and realized that I must have spent more time on Transfiguration than I'd though. "When's dinner?" I asked.

"About a quarter past an hour ago," Adam said. "She obviously cares deeply about where he is."

"Have any of you checked the Quidditch stadium?" I asked.

"No," they all said.

"Why don't you? You left him out there alone," Rose said.

"He wouldn’t have come inside with me if I'd threatened him with all three Unforgivable Curses," I snapped.

Joan stood up. "I'm going to find him."

"Good luck with that," I said, turning to go back upstairs.

"Who's going to go with me? I can't go out there alone," she said.

No one said anything.

"What kind of friends are you?" I asked, turning back towards the people still sitting.

"Look who's talking," Mark muttered.

I ignored him. "Well?" I asked them.

They all just looked back up at me.

I sighed. "I'm sure he's fine." But looking over at Joan, I was pretty sure that wasn't going to do. "Mark, go check the Owlery. Tara, go with Adam to check places like bathroom, classrooms, the kitchens, etc. Cedar and Rose, stay here in case he comes back. I'll go with Joan to check the Great Hall and then the Quidditch stadium."

Tara stood up to head off, but the boys just looked at me.

"Why should we listen to you?" Adam asked.

"Because I'm worried about him, OK? Now, go," Joan said.

They all stood up and we walked out of the common room. We split up to check our assigned areas. When Joan and I were about halfway to the marble staircase, Percy came into sight. He was walking slowly back to the common room.

"Come with us," I said, once we were close enough to talk in normal voices.

"Why?" Percy asked, turning and following the two of us. "Something wrong?"

"Joan seems to think so," I said.

"Oliver's missing," she said.

"So?" Percy asked.

"So, we're seeing if he's in the Quidditch stadium," Joan said.

"Why are you going, Laura?" Percy asked.

"Because everyone else has other places to check," I said, simply.

We checked the Great Hall to find it empty, so we headed outside and towards the stadium.

"What happened this afternoon," Percy asked. "Put Wood in his place?"

"If his place was in the lake, maybe," I said blandly.

Percy laughed. "Did you even talk?"

"A little," I said. "I'd say there was more yelling than talking."

"Good for you."

"Thanks for your support," I muttered.

"I thought you'd enjoy a good opportunity to yell at him," Percy said.

"So did I."

"And you didn't?"

"No. Look, let's just make sure he's not dead, and then I can finish my homework."

"Fine. Not that I care if he's alive or not, but I don't want you two to get in trouble for leaving the building alone."

"You want the three of us to get into trouble?" Joan asked.

"I can get us out of a detention, if it comes down to that."

I rolled my eyes, but didn't respond. We walked silently through the dark, our hands positioned just above our wands. I was relieved to reach the Quidditch stadium. I am comfortable enough with who I am to admit that I am scared of the dark. Especially out in the open with a serial murderer on the loose, so just having walls around me made me feel better.

"I don't see him," Percy said.

"We're barely inside yet," Joan snapped, as we kept walking. When we reached the center of the field, she said, "I don't see him."

"Too bad," Percy said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Maybe he's in the locker room," I said, walking towards the far wall.

Joan followed me and Percy, who was muttering about the cold, followed her. We walked through an archway that led to the locker rooms, and, as none of us had been back there, we stopped.

"Which one is Gryffindor's?" I asked.

"They aren't marked?" Percy said. He took his wand out. "Lumos!"

He shined his wand on the four doors in the area. There were no markings of any kind to say if they were even locker rooms.

"We can always just look in each one," Joan said.

"How are we to know one of those rooms doesn't contain every Bludger gone bad in Hogwarts' history?" Percy asked. "Plus, the other houses wouldn't take kindly to us snooping around their locker rooms."

"How else will we know if he's in one of the rooms?" Joan asked.

One of the doors opened, allowing some light to come out for a few moments, before it was closed again, and there were four people standing in the little passageway.

Percy cast his light on the figure immediately.

"I was looking forward to looking in the rooms, too," I said.

The fourth person lit up his wand and cast it on all of us. "I thought you were going to leave me alone," Wood said, eventually keeping his wand fixed on me.

"We didn't know where you were. We wanted to make sure you were all right," Joan said. She lit her wand as well, and there was enough light for all of us to see each other.

"They dragged me out here," Percy said emotionlessly.

"They shouldn't have," Wood said.

Joan was looking at me fixedly. I cocked my head a little, and she smiled slightly again. I shook my head as much as I could without it being noticeable, but she ignored me.

"Laura wanted you both to hear something," she said.

My jaw dropped a little. "I don't."

"You do," she said.

"No."

"Then I'll tell them—"

"Tell them what?" I interrupted.

"What are you two carrying on about?" Percy asked.

I looked at him and frowned. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Joan asked.

"If anything, it should be those two that have something to say to each other," I said, trying to get out of that situation but making things worse.

"Forget it," Wood said. "There's nothing to say."

"What?" Percy asked.

"They want us to try to solve our problems. To shake hands and make up," Wood said angrily.

"Why would they want that?" Percy asked, looking at me.

I looked back at him. "Wood thought you stole his broom. That's why he told everyone what he did. It was all just a misunderstanding."

"You thought I stole your damn broom? That piece of shit wasn't worth stealing!" Percy said, turning on Wood.

"If you hadn't been jealous of me, I wouldn't—"

"Jealous of you? Why would I be jealous of you?" Percy asked.

"Because I was the one succeeding and—"

"And I was well on my way to become a Prefect."

"Would you let me finish one though, you big-headed, back-stabbing oaf?"

"If you had a halfway intelligent thought to finish, I wouldn't have to interrupt you, you bone-headed, back-stabbing-me-first, moronic dope!"

"You stole my—"

"Can we please get past that broom?" I interrupted.

"If he just would have told me he was taking it—"

"It was going to be a surprise!" Percy said.

"Why?" Wood asked. "Why would you want to surprise me?"

"Because I wanted you to make the team!"

"I didn't need a better broom—"

"I was trying to be nice."

"You didn't have to be nice!" Wood yelled.

"This argument is so stupid!" I yelled. Percy and Wood looked at me. "Would you two just forgive each other?"

"Why should I forgive him?" Percy snapped.

"Because she wants a friend," Wood said.

"What?" Percy asked me.

"She practically begged me to be her friend this afternoon," Wood said. "It you wouldn't have ditched her—"

"Shut up!" I interrupted. I shook my head at him. "Screw you, Wood."

"It's not the truth?" he asked.

"Laura?" Percy asked.

I looked at him. "Screw you, too, Percy. You know what? I don't care if you blame me for what happened, Wood. And I don't care if you never talk to me again, Percy. Go ahead and move into Ravenclaw with Penelope, for all I care. You think I failed you, Wood? No… you both failed me. You failed me and you failed each other. And who pays for it? Me. Me! Wood gets Quidditch, and Percy gets Head Boy and a girlfriend? What do I get? Left behind. This argument is your problem, now. I don't want it. And I don't want anything to do with either of you."

No one said anything for a few seconds. I shook my head and turned to leave.

"Laura—" Percy started.

"It's my turn to ditch you, now, Percy," I snapped, walking away from them.

Joan hurried to catch up. "Laura—"

"No."

"How do you know what I—"

"No."

"I just wanted to say I was sorry for—"

"You just couldn't let it go, could you? Why did you have to get involved? Yesterday, I at least had Percy as a friend in name, and I wasn't fighting with Wood. I never asked for you to butt into my business," I said, brushing tears off of my cheeks.

"I know. I thought I could help. I thought if you all knew the truth about what happened during your second year that…."

"That it would erase everything we've done to each other in the five years since then?" I asked.

"I never meant to make things worse," Joan said, wiping her own eyes.

"Why did you even care?" I asked.

"I don't know." She sighed. "I just do care. I can't help it," she finished angrily.

I sighed, too. "I know," I said, bitterly. "Luckily for you, I don't have enough anger left to be mad at you for trying to help." I wiped my eyes again.

"Really?" she asked.

"Don't make me question it," I said.

"OK," she said quickly.

I laughed a little, despite myself.

We walked out of the Quidditch stadium and started heading towards the castle. We could clearly hear Wood and Percy yelling at each other, but I was tired of listening to them, and their words brushed right over me.

"Maybe you gave up too quickly," she said.

I snorted. "They gave up, not me. Wood gave up five years ago. Percy gave up last year. And now it's my turn."

"You didn't give either one of them a second chance, though," Joan said.

"I'm giving myself a second chance! I want to have friends. I want to be happy for the first time in five years!"

"You seemed happy before…."

"It was always about Percy and Wood," I said, just ranting now. "Always. Even when Percy was off with Penelope, it was still about Percy and Wood."

Joan didn't answer. Maybe she was finally afraid to try to help anymore.

By the time we got back to the common room, I'd stopped crying. The rest of the Seventh Years were back and looked up at us nervously.

"Where's Oliver?" Tara asked.

"The Quidditch stadium."

"You left him again?" Cedar asked.

"Yes," I said, simply.

There was a little pause. "Well, is he OK?" Tara asked.

I thought a second. "Hard to say, really. We left him with Percy, so… I don't think they'd kill each other. They may put each other in the Hospital Wing, but—"

"What's Percy doing there?" Rose asked.

"He came with us," Joan said.

Another small pause. "To make sure Wood was OK?" Mark asked, skeptically.

"Hard to say, really. Look, I'm going upstairs to finish the homework I should have done by now. Have a nice night," I said, leaving before anyone could ask any more questions. If Joan told them exactly what happened, I didn't care. I just didn't care anymore.

I woke up the next morning, and, realizing that I was still alive and that it was the start of another miserable day, I groaned and dragged myself out of bed and into the shower.

All of the Gryffindor girls shared a bathroom. I got used to it after a while. After I got dressed quickly in the shower stall, I stepped out and walked over to the sinks, where there were girls lined up, brushing their teeth and performing charms on the rest of their faces to try to improve their appearances. I wasn't much of a makeup person and barely made any attempt to make my hair look nice, either.

"Hey."

I looked in the mirror at the girl next to me and attempted to smile. "Hi, Ginny."

"You look nice today," she said.

I looked in the mirror. The truth was that I looked tired and… pathetic, really.

"Thanks," I said, anyway.

"How are you?" she asked, looking at me instead of my reflection.

I thought about this for a few seconds. "Not sure, to be honest. You?"

"Oh, I'm all right, I guess."

"Still in love with Potter?" I asked.

She looked down into the sink and spat.

I sighed. "I'm sorry. Just because I'm in a bad mood doesn't give me any right to—"

"It's OK," she interrupted.

I smiled at her reflection as I turned the faucet and put my toothbrush under the running water.

"I heard about what happened last night in the Quidditch stadium."

"I didn't expect any differently," I said.

"Percy's getting out of the Hospital Wing tomorrow. Wood's getting out not long after that," she said.

I turned and mumbled, "Wha'?" With a toothbrush in my mouth, it was hard to enunciate.

She smiled. "I'm kidding. But you cared! You cared about what happened to them."

I kept brushing my teeth and turned my attention back to the mirror.

Ginny looked down into the sink again. "I don't blame you for what you did."

"Huh?"

"Percy deserved to hear the truth."

I rinsed out my toothbrush and put it back in my little bag. "I still don't quite understand."

"That he was never a good friend," Ginny said. "You were there for him through it all, but he never really was there for you, especially during the past few months."

I played with the zipper on the bag for a minute before answering. "He was a good friend, Ginny. I know that you look at him as being boring and strict, but there's more to him than what meets the eye. His ambitions interfere with his judgment sometimes, but his ambitions also make him… a good influence."

Ginny laughed. "A good influence? Well, I can't argue with that. Still, a good influence? Boring."

I laughed. "You brother has lost a lot. He gave up on this part of his life and made his future… everything."

"You mean he lost Dan?" Ginny asked.

I nodded.

"We all lost Dan," she said softly.

I nodded again.

"But we didn't turn out like Percy."

"You're being pretty hard on him. He lost two best friends in a few years. Then there's the stress of being a Prefect and Head Boy."

Ginny laughed. "Stress? He loves it."

I laughed, too. "OK. How about the stress of having two brothers who are trying to bring Armageddon to Hogwarts a little early, a brother who's best friends with You-Know-Who's most-wanted and a little sister who's already had one too many encounters with the Dark Arts?"

She didn't answer.

"Add that to the stress of being in a big family?"

"I get your point," she said.

We walked out of the bathroom and down into the common room together.

"Laura, if you think so highly of him, then why don't you want to be his friend?" Ginny asked.

I looked at her. She was only twelve, but I never really saw her as being a lot younger than me. Maybe because I acted twelve most of the time. "Because everything you said is true to a point, too," I said, laughing a little.

She nodded, spotted some friends and walked away.

I sat down in a big chair near the fire. I usually got ready for school about an hour before I went down to breakfast, so there wouldn't be a crowd in the bathroom. It gave me time to finish homework and wake up before classes.

Potions was awful, but I wasn't expecting a picnic. Charms went fine. I liked Charms. I was good at them. After class, I went up to my bedroom to get the containers for Transfiguration and headed for the grounds.

Wood headed me off at the entrance. "Let me help."

I frowned and walked around him, out of the common room.

"You can't do the project alone," he said, following me.

"No." I turned around. "Here," I said, handing him half of the bags.

"What do you want me to get?"

"If it's in the Forbidden Forest, then you can get it. We'll forget about the caves."

"Look, I went through this stuff last night, and I think we can get enough plants on the regular grounds without going into—"

"I know that." I held up my Herbology book. "I've got all of the plants we need marked in this."

He smiled a little.

I kept frowning.

"Let's just get the damn plants. Then you can go right back to pretending that I don't exist, OK?" Wood said, starting to walk down the hallway.

"Fine," I said, following.

We walked out of the castle and started making our way around it, to the back.

"Did you enjoy making your little spectacle last night?" Wood asked.

My face had to have clearly shown my disgust. "You know what? I did. It's about damn time you two realized that you weren't only affecting each other by hating each other."

"And you think you're completely blameless?"

"No, but I'm a hell of a lot less to blame than you two."

"Maybe that's true but do you think you can just declare yourself out of this whole thing? You think this is just a game, that you can stand up and quit?"

"I'm not quitting, Wood! Percy and you quit. I'm cleaning up the game and putting it back into the closet. I was the last one who tried to play the game."

"Life isn't a game!"

"It is! Anything where people play to win is a game. I lost one game, and I'm not setting myself up for another loss."

"You think you were the only one to lose that game?"

"You two turned out all right in the end. That's winning."

"No, it isn't!"

"Then what is it?"

"It's not a game! It's life! You're the one who said you have to face it."

"But you wanted it to go away. You wanted me to just go away, so I agreed to it. Last night, I was doing Joan a favor. That's it. After this project, I plan on leaving you alone."

"And Percy?"

"And Percy."

"And who will be your friends, then?"

"There are only a few more months left of school. After that, I can start over."

"Wizards make their friends for life in Hogwarts."

"Then I'll go back to the Muggle world."

"And just turn your back on—"

"Turn my back on the world that turned its back on me first?" I turned to face him. "What do you care? Why can't you leave me alone? Isn't that only fair?"

"You weren't there after you left last night."

"No kidding? There's a profound statement."

"You never told Percy how you felt. You expected him to read your mind, and—"

"He should have known that he ditched me! It doesn't take a rocket scientist."

"…and he was too preoccupied to try to read your mind," Wood continued. "Penelope was the first good thing to come around in years. When Percy ditched you, it came slowly. You had time to adapt. What you did to him last night was sudden and unexpected. How would you react—"

"Why do you care? Since when do you stand up for Percy?"

Wood ignored me. "How would you react if your best friend said she never wanted anything to do with you ever again, out of nowhere?"

I didn't respond. I bent over and pulled up a flower I recognized from the Herbology book and stuffed it into a bag.

"Do you end a friendship over one thing?"

"You did," I spat, looking up at him. "You ended two."

"Don't end three." He looked me in the eyes.

I looked away from him. "I've never been a good friend. I've tried. God knows I have tried, but I always end up—"

"You can't change what happened during our second year, but it's not too late to change what happened last night."

I looked up at him again. "Why are you trying to help me?"

He frowned a little more and shrugged. He pulled some of the last leaves left on a tree we were walking under and put them into one of the bags I'd given him.

"You don't just grow a conscience overnight."

"I've always had a conscience. I just decided to apply it to you today. Don't expect it to become a habit."

I smiled slightly. "Did Percy get to you?"

"No."

"Yeah, right. I wasn't there after I left. That's what you said. He didn't make you cry or anything, did—"

"No!"

"Because I would have stuck around if there was going to be a cry-fest."

"There wasn't any bloody crying."

"No? I'll have to try a little harder next time, then."

"Like you could make us cry," he said.

I shrugged and looked down. "I wouldn't be so sure, Oliver."

"Oliver? Whenever you say my name, it means you really mean it."

"I do mean it."

"Dan?" he asked, quietly.

"You may not be my favorite person, but I don't want to make you cry," I said, dodging the subject.

"Why not? I would think it would give you some pleasure."

"You want to make me cry?"

"No."

"See?" I asked.

"You're rather ugly when you cry."

I faked a smile and nodded. "You're funny."

He laughed. "I'm kidding."

"And that makes it nicer?"

"I'm sorry."

"I doubt that."

"Are you going to patch things up with Percy or not?"

"Of course," I said after a few seconds. "Thanks, Oliver. I mean, Wood."

"Let's get some plants."

I nodded.

We worked on the project for about an hour before it started getting dark. We decided that by the time we walked back to the castle, we wouldn't be able to identify an oak from a pine tree and that we had enough plants to pass the project, at least.

"Thank you for pointing out to me that Gryffindor can still win the Cup," Wood said out of no where, about halfway back to the castle.

"What brought that up?"

"Me."

I smiled. "I want Gryffindor to win as just as much as the next person… who's in Gryffindor. Even if I do think that Quidditch and all other sports are pointless."

"It's not pointless."

"No? Give me one reason Hogwarts should have such a dangerous pastime. Things are dangerous enough in this world. Azkaban can't even keep us safe."

"Hogwarts has Quidditch to give people like me something to be. It lets people like me succeed."

"You're a good enough wizard."

"But that doesn't make you well-known. Quidditch makes me… someone."

"Well… I never hated you for Quidditch, so that must not be who you are."

"Thanks a lot."

"You're welcome."

"Anyway, thank you for supporting Gryffindor, then."

"You're welcome," I said more sincerely. After a minute, I added, "That's why you told me to make up with Percy, isn't it? To be even?"

"Yeah."

I looked down, partially because it was getting pretty dark out and I couldn't see very much of the ground in front of me. "Lumos!"

Wood lit his wand, and we walked the rest of the way back to the castle in silence. After we got inside, I went straight to the Great Hall. Percy was sitting at the end of the table, alone.

I walked over and sat down next to him. "Hi."

Percy didn't acknowledge my presence.

"Percy, I'm sorry for saying that I didn't want anything to do with you. I didn't mean it. I was only angry."

"Jealous of Penelope?" Percy asked coolly.

"I'm trying to apologize."

He looked at me.

"I guess, in some ways, I was jealous of Penelope. My best friend suddenly ditches me for some girl. Percy, you're angry, and I understand that, but you hurt me. You ditched me."

He didn't say anything and looked down at his plate.

"I want to be your friend, but you have to be a friend. Girlfriends will come and go, and, as your best friend, I'll probably hate all of them because they take some of our time away from me, but for them to take all of our time away from me is not fair."

"I didn't even notice that you were hurt."

"I didn't want you to notice. I didn't want to say anything, but last night, I was so tired of everything."

"You should have said something sooner," Percy said.

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

I smiled. "I know you are. Will that matter?"

"I still want to spend time with Penelope."

"And I still want you to spend time with her. I just want a friend again, Percy."

He nodded and I smiled a little more.

"So… do you love her, or what?" I asked.

He laughed. "That's… possible."

I smiled. "Does she love you?"

"I think so."

"Good. But, Percy?"

"Yes?"

"Just don't forget that I love you, too… just differently."

He looked at me and smiled, blushing a little. "Same here."

"What? Afraid to say it?"

"Yes."

I laughed. "I'm glad we talked."

"Me too."

"How are Bill and Charlie?"

"Alive. I don't really know, other than that," he said.

"And your parents?"

"Happy. They like it when we go off to school."

"And you?"

"I'm good. You?" he asked.

"I'm good, too, now."

Author's Note: Once again, no cliffhanger. The truth is that I hate cliffhangers. They just are not natural places for a chapter break. Think of this story as being on the sitcom schedule. Each chapter is a small piece of the plot, with its own small problem, but the problem comes to some sense of closure at the end. So, I guess the final author's note in each chapter is like the previews for the next episode…. Next week, on Do Be My Enemy for Friendship's Sake (That would make a kick-ass soap opera title.), while Laura's relationship with Percy remains the same, her relationship with the rest of the Seventh Years starts changing.

[Author's note: This chapter is kind of a transition chapter. It's mainly a few conversations for the purpose of showing relationships changing better than a paragraph about time passing could.]





Chapter 4: Fears of Fate





A week or so passed. Wood and I passed our Transfiguration project with an eighty percent. Percy and I spent some time hanging out. Penelope was there about half of the time. It was better than before, but I felt awkward and unwanted. Still, I was happier.



And, over the next few weeks, I gradually stopped visiting Penelope with Percy, and Percy was gone more. It still wasn't like before. Percy made more of an effort not to forget about me, but it hurt that he had to make an effort.



I was walking down the hallway one Friday, heading out to the lake, even though it was cold, when I heard my name being called. I turned to see Wood walking towards me.



"Something wrong?" I asked after he caught up. I kept walking towards the front doors and he followed.



"No. You made up with Percy."



"So you don't owe me anything for telling you that stuff about the Cup. If anything, I owe you, OK?"



"Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about."



"No kidding?"



He ignored my sarcasm. "You don't owe me anything for anything."



I looked at him, suspiciously. "Why not?"



"Because I don't owe you anything."



"OK. Why did you want to talk to me, again?"



"Look, do you want to go to Hogsmeade with us Seventh Years tomorrow, or not?"



I didn't answer. We had reached the oak doors and I turned to face Wood.



"The girls want you to come with us, and I was nominated to ask."



The suspicion on my face showed even more.



"Are you coming with us?" he asked impatiently.



"Sure. Thank you," I said slowly.



He nodded and walked off down another corridor. I went to the lake and sat down on a big rock beside it. I liked to look out over the ice in the winter. We were forbidden to walk on it because, in a magical lake, the ice is sometimes only an illusion, and it's impossible to tell if it is or not without sending someone out onto it.



"'ey, Laura."



I turned to see Hagrid carrying two large bags of something. I stood. "Hi, Hagrid. Need some help?"



"No, I've got this. Could ya come with me t' open a door, though?"



"Of course," I said, following him.



"I noticed you an' Percy 'ave been together more."



"Yes, a little. Hey, I've heard from some people that you took my advice on teaching the older students with some pretty cool creatures. The younger students aren't as happy."



"The younger students need a little trainin'."



"Perhaps you're right."



"Course I am. I'm a professor."



I smiled. "That you are, Professor Hagrid."



He chuckled. "Just call me 'agrid. I don' need a title t' impress anyone."



"You have a wonderful personality for that, eh?" I teased.



He laughed again. "I couldn't 'elp but notice yeh was spending more time with Oliver Wood."



I blew some air out of my nose. "Through matters out of my hands."



"Ne'ertheless, yer both still alive. More than most folks would've expected."



"Hagrid, do you hate anyone that you really don't know why you hate them, you just do because you always have?"



Hagrid thought for a few seconds. "I don't hate many people."



"No, but have you ever?"



"Sure. I've never been extremely fond of Filch."



"You have a reason for that, though," I said, smiling up at him.



"Why do yeh ask?"



"It's not like you can just stop hating someone, though, even if the reasons for hating them have gone away."



"Why not?"



"Because it's only fair if I hate him back!"



"Yeh wouldn' be talkin' 'bout Wood, now, would ya?"



"I'm speaking hypothetically."



"Oh. Right."



"And if this hypothetically-speaking person just so happens to answer to the name Wood, so be it," I added.



"'ere we are. Just open this 'ere door, please," Hagrid said, as we were standing in front of a shed near the greenhouses.



I did and stepped back so that Hagrid could get in easily. He placed the bags down and walked back outside, brushing his hands together.



"Thanks," Hagrid said.



"Welcome."



He looked down at me, hitting me with a more piercing look than I'd have thought his kind eyes could muster. He put a hand on my shoulder gently and pushed me slightly so I'd start walking with him.



"One o' the biggest debates in the wizardin' world is on whether er not people are subject to fate er destiny. Many a duel was started 'cause of it. Personally, I'm a little on both sides."



"What do you mean?"



"Well, people can't control things all that well. If yeh were t' just look at th' surface o' people, then yeh'd have no problems believin' that they were bein' guided by some sort o'… force. But then I see people do great, kind things, and I see people do terrible things."



"Couldn't that be fate?"



"No, Laura. People make decisions t' do great or terrible things. People make choices, an' nothin' but those people controls 'em. 'Control yer own destiny.' That's what me dad used t' say. Do ya understand?"



"I think so, but I'm not sure what point is supposed to be coming out of the lesson."



"Fate is just what people call it when there isn' an explanation for it. Why did I have to get kicked out o' 'ogwarts? Why did I have to find Aragog? Fate. See?"



"Yes, but, again… why are you telling me this?"



"All I'm sayin' is that yeh can't help what brought about yer hate fer this hypothetical Oliver Wood. That's fate. But yeh do have a decision t' make."



I didn't answer.



"Hate's a mighty strong emotion, Laura. Do yeh really hate 'im?"



"I disliked him pretty strongly."



"Yeh can get past that. Ya look cold. Go on back inside, now. Thanks, again," Hagrid said, walking away.



I watched his back for a minute before taking his advice and going inside. I knew Hagrid had been through a lot, especially during what should have been his Hogwarts years. Hagrid knew what hate was. Hagrid knew a lot, despite being kicked out of school. Maybe that's why new knew so much.



The next day, I woke up early, as I had no idea what time Wood and Company wanted to leave. It was the Hogsmeade visit before Christmas, so it was bound to be crowded in every store. I put on some warm clothes and went down to the common room. About an hour later, the rest of the Seventh Years, minus Percy, were ready to head out.



"We're glad you could go," Joan said, as we walked out of the common room.



"Thanks for having Wood ask me," I answered, smiling.



She cocked her head a little but didn't say anything.



The eight of us left Hogwarts ground, and again, away from the eyes and ears of Hogwarts, we could be ourselves. The boys walked faster, and, once they were out of hearing distance, the conversations I almost never got to be a part of began.



"What would you want for Christmas if you were a seventh year Slytherin?" Rose asked.



"Brains?" Cedar asked.



All of us except Rose laughed. She was stalking Flint, who, like a good Slytherin, wanted nothing to do with a Gryffindor, no matter what she looked like or how pure her blood was.



"Poor Cedric," Tara said. "Dumped for a Slytherin."



"He was never my type."



"No?" I asked.



"No. Quidditch players… too caught up in other things. I need more attention," Rose said, smiling broadly.



"Flint's Slytherin's Quidditch captain," Joan said.



"Yes, but the Slytherins are smart enough to just cheat. It cuts down on so much practice."



The rest of us shook our heads, remembering all too clearly the years we'd watched Gryffindor fall to Slytherin's pathetic cheating.



"We've got a good team this year. We're sure to win," Cedar said.



"We've lost a game," Joan said.



"We can still win. Wood will be sure of it."



Rose groaned. "He's obsessed, poor guy."



"It's important to him," Joan said.



"Important and everything are two different things," Rose countered.



"Not always," I said.



They all looked at me, waiting.



I shrugged. "They're not always different." When they kept staring, I asked, "What?"



"Did she stand up for Oliver?" Cedar asked.



"No," I said.



"It's debatable," Tara said. "She could have been standing up for someone else."



"Yes," I agreed.



"Who?" Rose and Cedar asked.



I laughed. "Anyone else in general. I don't know."



"We weren't sure you'd want to come with us, with Oliver coming. Perhaps there's still a reason for us believing that," Cedar said.



I shrugged. "He seemed sincere."



"Huh?" Joan asked.



"When he asked if I wanted to come along. He said you wanted him to ask. I don't need him to say it's OK, you know."



The four of them were looking at each other.



"What?"



Joan looked at me, then away. "We didn't think you'd want to go with him, so we… didn't want to ask because we didn't want to make you feel bad about saying no."



I didn't say anything for a few seconds before laughing quietly. "Oh, come off of it. Like Wood would ask me to come along, just… just nothing. He wouldn't."



"Which is why we're so confused," Tara said.



My smile started to vanish. "Well… you really didn't tell him to ask me?"



They shook their heads.



"Maybe I should head back. Something smells funny."



They nodded.



I laughed at their faces, which hadn't looked that confused since Snape hadn't given homework during our third year. "I was kidding… I think. Just… if he pulls his wand on me, we could easily take the guys."



"That's for sure," Cedar said, puffing out her chest slightly. "Bunch of girly-girls."



We all laughed and they forgot about it. I was too busy thinking about whether I should be watching my back or not to really get into any of the conversations on the rest of the way to Hogsmeade.



We five girls caught up with the boys in Zonko's. I was never really into pranks, but I enjoyed looking at the joke shop's selection. I was particularly amused by people around the store suddenly turning into canaries, although I couldn't find the product that caused it anywhere.



I needed to get a present for Percy, and I got him a book on the Ministry. I got a book about Muggle animals for Hagrid, as he's always turned up when I needed someone to talk to. And, while technically it was illegal for me to give magical gifts to my Muggle family, I did get my parents some magical candy that they could eat when I came home for the holidays.



The eight of us spent most of the day just walking from shop to shop. There were dozens. My favorite was a little shop that sold enchanted dust-collectors. Muggle dust-collectors are the stupid, ornamental things that sit on shelves and desks for years, untouched and rarely looked at. Their one function is to collect dust. Wizarding dust-collectors are ornamental things that sit on shelves and desks for years, untouched and rarely looked at, as well. Except these literally collect dust and save a lot of time that would be spent dusting surfaces. The other seventh years each got their mothers one.



We were all exhausted by the time we decided to go back to Hogwarts. The guys decided they'd walk us back. I was listening to the rest of them sing professional Quidditch teams' songs. I'd never been to any professional Quidditch matches to hear any of them, but they were all hilarious.



"The Whinging Weasels song—"



"Ginny!" I interrupted. I stopped in place. "I forgot to get Ginny Weasley a present."



"You get all of the Weasleys gifts?" Mark asked.



"No. I've gotten Ginny a gift every year for the past six years. She's the only girl and… well, her brothers have no idea what she would want, so I've always gotten her something. She used to be like my little sister over summer vacations. I have to go back," I said, turning around.



"We have to be back in an hour," Joan said.



I paused and shook my head. "It won't take me long. If I go back now, I'll have twenty minutes to get something for her. I'll see you back at the castle."



I turned and started walking quickly back to the wizarding town. After a few minutes, I heard footsteps right behind me. I turned my head, still walking, to see Wood catching up to me.



"I need to get Hagrid something," he said quickly.



I slowed down so he'd catch up more quickly. "I didn't know you were friends with Hagrid."



Oliver laughed under his breath, slightly, but there wasn't any humor in it. "Hagrid befriends people who need him. He took me under his wing my second year."



I looked at Wood, but my eyes weren't really focused. I'd never thought about it before. I knew Hagrid had befriended more students, but you never saw him with any of them. Hagrid had started talking to me the year before, when Percy had started seeing Penelope all of the time.



"The thing is that once he makes a friend, he never loses one, so… Hagrid makes a lot of Christmas presents."



I kept walking in silence for a few minutes. I didn't like the thought of people feeling sorry for me. Espeically not Hagrid. Still….



"I talked to Hagrid yesterday," I said.



"I did, too," Wood said. He was still walking quickly. It wasn't easy to keep up, but, for some reason, I didn't want him to leave me behind.



"Can you slow down a little?" I asked.



"Why?"



"Because I want to talk to you, but you're walking so fast, I have to use my breath to keep up," I said.



He didn't say anything, but he did slow down enough that I could ease the pain I was starting to feel in my stomach from getting more exercise than I was used to.



"We talked about you," I said, quickly, not looking at him.



"Me?"



"Yes."



"What about me?"



I thought for a minute, deciding how to put what I wanted to say in the least amount of words possible because I didn't really want to be the one to say them.



"I forgot why I hated you. Well… forgot is the wrong word. Finding out why you did what you did five years ago… it was a stupid misunderstanding."



"Hagrid's known the whole story longer than we have."



"Yeah, that was just starting to dawn on me. We didn't talk about what happened five years ago."



"No. You don't hate me anyone and want to be friends, right?"



The way he put it made me immediately go into my defensive state.



"I may not hate you, but that doesn't make me want to be your friend," I snapped.



"Why?" he asked.



"You think because you're the Quidditch captain and good-looking, everyone wants to be your friend?" I asked.



He blushed slightly. "That's not what I meant."



"Then what did you mean?"



"I meant, why shouldn't we be friends if we don't hate each other?"



"I-! What?"



"You weren't the only one to talk to Hagrid yesterday."



I blinked, shook my head, stopped, shook my head again because it didn't work the first time, and repeated that process once more.



"Are you OK?" Wood asked, looking at me strangely.



"Being friends with you is too close to admitting that I was wrong and stupid before."



"It's the same thing."



"See?"



"But I'm admitting the same thing. Come off it, Laura. Admit you were wrong and move on."



"I'm not even sure what I'm admitting that I was wrong about."



"For letting a misunderstanding come between a friendship. I'm guilty of the same thing."



I looked at him carefully. "You're serious about this whole thing?"



"Yes!"



"Then I was wrong."



He smiled. "I was wrong, too."



I didn't say anything the rest of the way to Hogsmeade. I wasn't only wrong five years ago. I'd been wrong about him longer than that.



We split up right away when we entered town. I headed towards some of the more popular stores with twelve year old girls. I mentally went through the gifts I'd already gotten her. When she was seven, I got her a toy wand. When she was eight, she got a package of Muggle makeup from me, and when she was nine, I got her a sweatshirt that had "My friend went to Hogwarts and all I got was this stupid jumper" printed on it. When she was ten, I got her some potions materials, which Mrs. Weasley practically banned me from the Burrow for. And the last year I had gotten her some clothes. A few were new, but most of them were hand-me-downs from me and my older cousins. I think that had been her favorite present from me.



But this year? I was drawing a blank. I'd thought about it before, but had always brushed it off when nothing came to me, thinking I'd have plenty of time to pick something out for her. How could I have forgotten Ginny?



I spent half of my twenty minutes in shops that I knew weren't right. I walked out of a large clothing store, and across the street was a beaten, worn-down looking building. I felt kind of sorry for it and walked over. Upon realizing it was a shop, I walked in.



I couldn't see anyone in there, but even had there been anyone, it would have been difficult to find them. It was a mirror shop. I wandered around, spellbound, looking at my reflection in them. In some I saw my reflection normally. In others I looked slightly older, slightly younger, slightly happier, slightly less happy… and in some, I didn't see my reflection at all, but places or things.



When I saw a person in one, I jumped back and almost knocked over a mirror. I spun around in time to catch it and sighed in relief. If you break a magical mirror, you really do get seven years of bad luck in return.



"Good save," I heard from behind me. I turned again, more carefully this time. The old man I had seen in the mirror was standing there, smiling kindly.



"I'm sorry," I said. "You scared me and—"



"It happens all of the time. Anyway, all of our mirrors are breakproof and are under a lifetime warranty, so if they do break, your seven years of bad luck will gladly be taken from you, and you will be given a refund," he said.



I was still too unnerved to respond to what he was saying. "I'm looking for a present for a friend, but I doubt that I could afford any magic mirror. I didn't know this shop existed. I just sort of… was drawn to it."



"Some people are drawn to mirrors," the old man said, smiling.



I turned to him, frowning. "I'm not shallow or—"



"Magical mirrors, darling," the man interrupted quickly. "I was in no way trying to imply that you are narcissistic."



"What did you mean, then?" I asked more kindly.



"I meant that mirrors… call certain people."



I looked around the store.



"Not all magic mirrors are expensive," the man said. "Would you like to see some inexpensive ones?"



I nodded, seeing my house in one mirror. "Sure."



The man started walking through the store, with me right behind him A few times I stalled, not sure which one was the man and which ones were merely his reflection.



And in a minute we reached a section with smaller mirrors.



"Have you found anything?" the man asked.



I opened my mouth to respond, but another voice came first.



"Yes, I believe I have," said Wood, as he walked around a shelf of mirrors. He stopped when he saw me.



"Good," the man said, smiling more genuinely now. "Which one have you selected?"



"This one," Wood said, holding up a round mirror that was about six inches in diameter.



"Ah… yes, that is a peculiar mirror, indeed. It shows creatures in it, doesn't it?"



"Yes," Wood said, looking into it. "Do you think Hagrid would like it, Laura?"



"I'm sure he'd love it," I said, feeling stupid about my book for him.



Oliver nodded. "I'll take it, then."



The old man said, "Thank you, sir. Laura, this area would be good for a gift for a young girl. I'll be back in a few minutes. Don't touch the surface of any mirrors, please."



"OK," I said as he walked away. I realized that my time was ticking away, and I was probably already going to be a little late, but the mirrors were… calling to me.



When he came back a few minutes later, I had my mind made up. I pointed and said, "That one is right."



"It reflects people honestly," the man said. "Are you sure that would be right for your friend?"



I looked closely at my own reflection. It was reflecting me honestly? I looked tired. A little sad. Mainly passive.



"Yes. She's a good person and seeing that would make her feel better about herself," I responded, eventually.



"It's five Galleons," the man said.



"That's fine," I said after a few seconds.



"Very well. Pick it up by the frame and follow me, please," he said, kindly.



I followed him to the back of the store, where he had a small cash register of some sort. He pressed a few keys, and, after taking my five Galleons, made the machine spit out a warranty certificate, which he sighed and had me sign as well.



"Thank you, miss," he said, handing me the mirror in a small box. The mirror was only about four inches across, but I knew Ginny would love it.



I walked out of the store to find Wood waiting for me. At first I went into defense mode, and then I remember he seemed to want to get along. The defense mode took a back burner to my try to be nice mode.



"We're going to be late," he said, simply, starting to walk.



"Yeah, well… what can they do to us?"



"Have you ever had a detention?" Wood asked, looking at me strangely.



"I don't get caught much."



"Well… then, don't think about what they can do to us. It only kills your nerves," he said calmly.



"We're good kids. We'll just have to explain that we lost track of time."



"Together?"



I frowned a little. "We can say we just didn't want to walk alone after dark."



"Together?" he repeated.



"Together isn't alone."



"You don't quite understand. Do you realize how… us getting along has never really occurred to people."



"But the professors—"



"Are people."



"Dumbledore—"



"Isn't going to be the one to give us detention. McGonagall will be."



I winced slightly. "Well, she thinks we hate each other, so it's not like she'll think we were getting into any trouble together."



"Unless we were trying to kill each other, or something like that," Wood said.



I laughed a little. "We never hated each other that much."



"How much time do we have left before curfew?"



"Ten minutes, and it will take us three times that long to get to Hogwarts," I said.



"By foot," Wood said, looking at me as we kept walking quickly.



"I don't see a train or car anywhere," I said.



"Accio Cleansweep Seven!" Oliver said after he'd taken out his wand.



"Oh, so I can get detention alone. Great, Wood," I said.



"A Cleansweep can easily carry two people."



"And the professors will love that! Us flying over land that isn't Hogwarts grounds? We're going to have so many detentions… if they don't expel us."



"Relax. We'll fly over the path, down low. No one will see us, so no one will know."



"Except for the people who see your broom coming. Speaking of which…" I said.



Oliver's broom had come flying between two trees, into his hand.



"You can walk, if you want," Wood said.



I stopped walking, tapped my foot a few times, sighed, shook my head, sighed again, and said, "You're sure that can carry two people safely?"



"I didn't say safely," Wood said, smiling.



"Are you kidding?" I asked quite seriously.



"Yes. I assure you that I am perfectly capable of steering this thing. Now, do you want to cheat a little and get out of a detention or not?"



"Yes," I said.



He climbed onto the broom and, his feet brushing the ground, flew over a few feet to where I was standing.



I swung my leg over the broom and sat down behind him.



"You're either going to have to hang onto the broom or to me," Wood said after a minute.



I held onto the few inches separating the two of us. Wood kicked off and started flying. He sped up slowly at first and then more quickly.



"OK?" he asked after a few minutes.



"This is a little awkward, but I'm fine," I answered.



He laughed. "Don't like flying?"



"No, but that's not what I was referring to," I said.



"I realized that, Laura."



"Nothing personal."



Wood nodded. He put on a sudden burst of speed. I felt like I was falling off, so I leaned forward to try to counter it. Automatically, I let go of the broom with one hand and wrapped my arm around him.



He stopped accelerating quickly. We were flying fairly fast but were only three feet off the ground. I took my arm away and held onto the broom a little tighter with both hands.



"You did that on purpose," I said bitterly.



"Just wanted to show you what awkward was."



"I told you not to take it personally."



"But you meant it personally," he said.



"You don't feel weird? We barely get along. There's a difference between being friends and not hating each other."



"You could try not being so obvious about that, though," Wood said.



I didn't answer and Wood started slowing down the broom. We were about a minute's run from the gates, and neither one of us had any doubts that the dementors would consider a broom zipping past them to be suspicious.



We both hopped off the broom and started running to the gates. If we were inside of those before curfew, we'd be fine. If we weren't, we'd have McGonagall to deal with. Once we got within a few feet, we saw Professor Flitwick standing there with a clipboard in his hands.



I felt a chill go up my back. How was he standing so close to those dementors, waiting for all of us?



I got my answer when he talked. He breath smelled heavily of chocolate. "Right on time," he said, looking up at us carefully.



"We though we were going to be late," Wood said, nicely.



I didn't say anything. I was starting to feel funny and realized I hadn't brought a piece of chocolate with me.



"Why were you going to be late?" Flitwick asked.



"We got caught up in a store at the last minute," I could hear Wood saying, although I was barely comprehending it.



"Laura?" Professor Flitwick asked.



"No chocolate," I whispered.



"Oh! Here, here, take this," he said, digging in his robe and pulling out a Chocolate Frog, which he unwrapped for me.



I took it and ate it quickly. I let a few chills run down my back before thanking him.



"You're welcome. That's why I'm here, of course," he said. "You'd better go back to the castle quickly."



Wood and I hurried past the dementors. Once we stopped feeling their effects, he looked over at me.



"Dementors affect you?"



I shrugged slightly. "Not terribly. I usually just walk quickly past them and eat a bit of chocolate."



"Do you see things?"



"No."



"Hear things?"



"No."



"Remember things."



It hadn't been a question, so I felt no obligation to confirm what he had said.



"I remember you and Percy," he said quietly.



I looked over at him, frowning. "I thought dementors made people relive bad memories."



Wood smiled a little. "That's right."



I started to reach out to him but quickly changed my mind. "I'm sorry, Oliver."



He just shrugged again. We kept walking without saying anything for about ten minutes.



"What's your favorite color?" Wood asked, suddenly.



"Why?"



"The silence is making me nervous," he said, about half kidding.



I rolled my eyes but answered anyway. "Blue."



"Mine's scarlet."



"Imagine that."



"No. It was even before Quidditch. I like it."



"It's a nice color," I said.



"Nice?"



"Pretty?"



"Better. Your favorite number?"



"I don't know. Three, I guess," I said.



"Why?"



"Third time's a charm. Three strikes, you're out. Three."



"What?"



"Must be Muggle sayings."



"Oh, mine's seven."



"Magical number seven?" I asked.



"Yes. And seven players on a Quidditch team."



I shook my head but smiled. "You're very predictable."



"And you aren't?"



"No."



"Right. OK, then, what's my favorite… food?"



"Anything peppermint," I said, smirking.



"How did you know that?"



"It's always been your favorite food."



"I'll bet your favorite food is… peanut butter."



"No. Pizza," I said.



"Pizza? It used to be peanut butter."



"My favorite food was never peanut butter. It was always pizza."



"Right. OK. So what's my favorite… season?"



"Quidditch season," I said, laughing.



"Damn it. Trick question, too."



"What's mine?" I asked.



"Spring."



"Good guess."



"So you've known one more thing about me than I have about you. What's my favorite song?"



"What is this? A competition?" I asked.



"Yes," Wood said right away.



"Well, that's easy. You said it was the song for that Chinese Quidditch team."



"I don't know yours."



"I don't have one. There are too many songs that I like to choose only one."



"So you're still one up on me."



"Two."



"One. Your answer for the song wasn't really an answer."



"Neither was Quidditch season. I'm two up. What's my favorite place?"



"Place?" Wood asked.



"Location."



"How in the hell am I supposed to know?"



"Guess, then."



He thought for a few minutes. "Here. Hogwarts."



"Right."



"Yours is… hold on, let me think." After a few minutes, I tried the obvious. "The Quidditch stadium."



"No. It's at home."



"Where do you live, again?"



"Guess," Wood mocked.



"I can't remember."



"You live in the suburbs of London, to the Northeast," he said, gloating. "Now we're tied."



The contest kept going. When we reached the school, we were still tied, although we'd missed more questions than we'd gotten right. Most of the rest of the correct answers were guesses.



"OK. Last question," Wood said, opening the oak door and letting me walk in first.



"I get to choose what it is," I said.



"No. I do. What's my worst fear?"



I thought for a few seconds. "That you're gay?"



"What?" he asked, closing the door rather strongly.



I laughed. "I'm kidding."



"Good."



"You aren't, are you?"



"No."



"Because you've never had a girlfriend here."



"Quidditch."



"Is your girlfriend?" I asked, laughing and starting up the marble staircase in front of him.



"And you've never had a boyfriend here," he said.



"I said I was only kidding."



"Good."



I thought for a few more seconds. "Is it dying?"



"Is what dying?"



"Is dying your worst fear?"



"Oh. No, it isn't."



"What is it, then?"



"Failing," he said seriously.



"Failing out of Hogwarts? I thought you were a decent student."



"No. Failing in general."



"Everyone fails at something. No one's perfect."



"I know that. I'm more afraid of… being a failure."



"You won't be. You're going to win that Quidditch Cup this year, remember?"



"There's more to life than the Cup."



I looked at him, surprised.



He rolled his eyes. "Place Oliver Wood is obsessed with Quidditch joke here," he said sarcastically.



I laughed. "I couldn't come up with one quickly enough." We started walking up another staircase. "Anyway, if you set reasonable goals for yourself, you won't fail. Neither will I."



"You sound so sure."



"And I am, most of the time."



"And the rest of the time?"



"The rest of the time… I'm happy enough with the present not to worry about the future."



He nodded and didn't say anything for a while. "Is your greatest fear death?" he asked, finally.



It took me several seconds to realize that we were still playing that game. "No, it isn't."



"Then what is it?" he asked after realizing I wasn't going to say unless he specifically asked.



"Being alone forever," I answered quickly, looking down.



"You're never alone. There's always someone there to be a friend. Or there's family."



"That's not what I meant," I said quietly.



"Oh. Oh… right," he said.



I looked over at him quickly to see that he was looking away.



"I didn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything," I said, realizing that I was the one blushing.



"You didn't. I just… worry about that, too, sometimes."



"Only sometimes?"



"Yes. I think there's a person out there for everyone."



"Yeah… that's what I'm afraid of," I answered, partially to myself.



"Why? I like the idea."



"You do?"



"Yeah. Why not?" he asked.



"One person for everyone? Only one? What are the odds of finding them?"



"Well, the perfect person would be within reach."



"And if it didn't work out right?"



"Then it wasn't the right person," he said.



"You really like the idea of only one person for everyone."



"What? Did you think that all guys support polygamy or—"



"No. That's not what I meant."



"What did you mean?"



"I just mean… what if you were to find your soulmate when you were… seventy?" I asked.



"Then we'd have a good number or years left together."



"What if you were one hundred?"



"At least I found her. The amount of time isn't that important."



"Even if you only knew her for a few years, months, days even?"



"Yes."



"Even though you'd have the rest of your life to live alone?" I asked.



"I thought I've already spent one hundred years without her."



"Oh, I forgot," I said, smiling despite myself.



"I still don't understand why you're afraid."



I sighed. "I guess I'm just skeptical of things like this that… rely so much on chance and can be ruined so easily."



"I understand. Maybe."



We reached the common room and walked in together. The Seventh Years looked over at us, a little confused.



"We thought you were going to be late," Adam said once we'd walked over.



"We came close," Oliver said, laying his broom up against a chair, which he sat down in.



"Find a gift?" Joan asked, looking up at me.



I nodded. "Yes. I think she'll love it."



I stood there, looking back at them looking up at me.



"May I sit down?" I asked finally.



They all nodded saying yes's, sure's and whatever's. I stayed with them for a few hours, talking about whatever the conversation led to. And I had fun.



When Percy came in, I smiled at him but didn't walk over to greet him. He looked at me strangely but not for long. He went straight up to his dormitory.



"What's eating him?" Mark asked.



"He'll get over it," I said.



"Maybe," Wood added, only slightly under his breath.



I nodded once or twice and stood up slowly. "I'm getting tired. Too much shopping. I'll see you all in the morning," I said, heading towards the door leading upstairs.







Author's note: I made a sweatshirt that says "My friend went to Hogwarts and all I got was this stupid jumper" after reading this story again. (A lot of this is already written. I'm almost half way through what's finished.) It's a sweet jumper. Sweater, I mean.



Coming up in Chapter 5: Christmas Vacation and an introduction to New Year's traditions in the wizarding world! I like the next chapter. I can't help it.

[Author's Note: How embarrassing…. I found a discrepancy in my own story. In chapter 1, I said that Mark was Tara's boyfriend and Adam was Joan's boyfriend. That wasn't right. Adam and Tara have been dating for years. Mark and Joan date on and off. I just wanted to make that clear before this chapter starts because this is the first time where it actually matters. I'm sorry for the mistake, and it has already been corrected.]


Chapter 5: New Year's


Several days passed. I spent most of my time before Christmas vacation studying for all of the exams the teachers were giving. In the evenings, I would sit with the Seventh Years. Wood and I were getting along fine. Of course… he was practicing Quidditch as much as I was studying. There weren't many opportunities to fight. The rest of the Seventh Years still couldn't act like this wasn't weird.

One night, Adam quit trying to act. "Were you two abducted and switched bodies with some aliens?" Adam liked Muggle science fiction studies. Too much.

"What are you talking about, Adam?" Tara asked.

"Laura and Wood. I'm confused."

Wood laughed.

"Maybe it's a spell," Cedar said.

"Or even weirder than that," Rose said.

"You mean, like they just… decided to get along?" Cedar asked.

"Yeah. Something like that," Rose said.

"Or aliens!"

"It wasn't aliens, Adam," Rose said.

"How do you know?" he asked.

"We could just ask them, as they're sitting right here, listening," Tara said.

"Right," Cedar said, looking at me. "Well? Who's right?"

"You," I said.

"It's a spell?" she asked, looking surprised.

"No. We just decided to get along. Or try to get along," I said.

"Oh. Well… that's less fun."

"Sorry," Wood said. He stood up. "I've got Quidditch practice. Have a nice evening."

"Take it easy on them," Cedar said.

"I would never do that," he answered, seriously but smiling.

He picked his cloak up off of the floor and walked out of the common room.



I easily passed the tests I studied so much for, and before I knew it, I was on the train, heading back to London. Mum and Dad were meeting me there, and I would spend a little time as a Muggle. I was looking forward to seeing some of my Muggle friends again.

"Laura?"

I looked up. I had been the only person in my compartment and had been liking it that way. "Hey, Wood."

"Uh, I know we haven't been getting along very long or anything, but my parents always have this big New Year's party. A whole bunch of people will be there… all of the Seventh Years. And—"

"Except Percy," I interrupted.

"What? Oh, yes… not Percy."

"Keep going."

"If you want to come, you're welcome to."

I looked out of the window.

After a minute, Wood asked if I'd heard him or not.

"I heard you. I don't know where you live."

"Oh. Just say 'Frank and Linda Wood residence' when you use Floo Powder," he said.

"Our fireplace isn't connected to that," I said simply.

"Why—oh, Laura, I'm sorry. I forgot your parents are Muggles."

I shrugged a little and looked back out the window.

"But you live Northeast of London, right?"

"Yes."

"My aunt does, too. If you could get to her house—"

"Go to a person's house that I've never met?"

"Do you want to go?" he asked, not rudely.

"Yes."

"Then we'll figure out a—"

"But I don't know anything about wizards and witches, really. Is it a formal party?"

"No, not really."

"I don't even know what a not really formal party is for wizards."

"Wear your cloak over some Muggle clothes. Come with a dish or dessert. Just have fun," he said, smiling.

"And I'll only know a few people there."

"That's not true. You'll know several people from Hogwarts."

"And—" I started.

"You have to be around wizards to understand them. You'll have to join our world after Hogwarts or abandon magic."

I thought about this and nodded. "You're right."

"Of course I am."

"Where does your aunt live?"

We went on to plan how I could get to Wood's house. I felt guilty, like I was betraying Percy. But I did have a right to make my own friends.

Wood ended up staying in my car for about half an hour, talking about what to expect at the party. He said there would be a lot of people, but mainly adults, so I wouldn't have to worry about being around everyone. There would also be food and fireworks, music and dancing (but not much, and it wasn't obligatory, he assured me), and staying up into the twilight hours. I never would have admitted it to him at the time, but it sounded fun.

"How will I get home?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Maybe you can stay with Joan or something."

I nodded. "Maybe. I don't really know Joan very well either."

He laughed. "You've lived with Joan for seven years. What you mean is that you've pretended that you didn't know her until recently."

"Pretty much, yes," I admitted.

"I'm sure she'd gladly let you stay with her for a few hours. So you'll definitely come, then?"

"I'll run it by my parents first, but I will if I can."

"You need a date."

"What?"

"Just kidding," he said, grinning.

"Oh. You scared me for a minute."

"Scared myself for a minute. Come with me. We'll talk to Joan."

And Joan enthusiastically agreed to let me stay with her until I had enough sleep to be able to drive home from Wood's aunt's house, which was only about half an hour away from my house. If I was still angry at her at all (and it was hard to be angry at Joan for anything) for butting into my life earlier in the school year, I was completely over it then. I spent the rest of the trip to London in the girls' compartment.

My parents were waiting outside of Platform 9 Âľ . I hugged them and we walked out of King's Cross together, talking about what had happened at school since I'd last written to them. They loved hearing about all of the crazy things that seemed to happen there.

In the car, I brought up Wood's parents' party, and my parents were glad that I was making more friends and said that they didn't care if I went or not. I got a little nervous, then, because the one excuse I had left was gone.

Christmas was wonderful. I got nice presents, and my parents liked my gifts for them, which I'd gotten at a Muggle store during the summer. I even got to spend a little time with some of my Muggle friends from primary school, who thought I was going to a boarding school in America.

I did homework off and on and finished a few days before New Year's. I watched a lot of television. I didn't really miss it while at Hogwarts, but I still enjoyed watching a few shows while at home.

New Year's Eve came faster than I would have liked. I was nervous about being around a bunch of people I didn't know well at all, and then spending the night in an environment I was clueless about with a girl I was just becoming friends with.

I put on some nicer casual Muggle clothes, folded up my cloak, and put it under the seat in my car. I kissed Mum and Dad goodbye and started on the half an hour drive to Wood's aunt's house. He'd written to her, and I had called her to make sure it was all OK. She seemed like a nice woman on the phone, and Wood assured me in a short letter that she was harmless.

I pulled into her driveway, off to the side of the garage, so people could still pull out and into it. I grabbed my cloak and plate of a couple dozen homemade cookies and walked up to the front door.

A middle-aged woman opened the door before I got a chance to knock or ring the doorbell. She ushered me in quickly and shut the door.

"Sorry. I didn't want the neighbors to get a glimpse of the house." She laughed merrily.

I looked around me. There was nothing particularly unusual about the small hallway I was in. I could see a small living room at the end of it. The only magical thing I noticed was a painting waving at me.

I heard a clicking noise and was shocked to see a bedside table walk out of a door leading into the hallway. It hobbled into the living room and out of sight. I watched it in shock. After attending Hogwarts for seven years, I was used to weird things happening, but this was leaving my comfort range.

Oliver's aunt laughed again. "Pets. Living furniture makes things more interesting."

I nodded slowly, looking back at her. I remembered my manners and extended my hand, a little slowly. "I'm Laura Debman. Thank you for letting me use your fireplace."

"It's my pleasure, Laura. I'm Harriet Lanolin, Oliver's favorite aunt. He's a good kid. Pride of the family. We were all so disappointed when we heard Gryffindor had lost that match against Hufflepuff, but he's still got hope that Gryffindor can still win. I suppose it's possible."

"It's possible. He's very… motivated," I said, trying to be polite.

"Of course. His father, my brother, was Quidditch captain for Gryffindor when he was in school. And our father before that was as well. We were afraid he wasn't going to make the team, but he surprised us all by making it his second year. Of course, we were hoping for a better position than Keeper."

I was frowning now. I couldn't help it. I was shocked at how quickly Quidditch had come up and how Wood's "favorite aunt" was talking about him.

"It's a good position. Important," I said.

"Yes. It's better than Beater, I guess. Anyway, we should leave for Frank's house now. Just let me grab my cloak out of the bedroom. The fireplace is in the living room, at the end of this hall," she said, pointing. "You can wait for me in there, dear."

I forced a smile and nodded. "OK." The last thing I wanted to do at the moment was wait in a room with living furniture, whether the furniture was just charmed or… alive.

I walked down there as slowly as I could without looking reluctant. The fireplace was at the other side of the room from the door. Once at the doorway, I watched a chair move halfway across the room to sit right in front of the hearth.

"Figures," I muttered.

"Excuse me?"

I spun around to see a man standing behind me. He was frowning and had his arms crossed.

"Who are you?" I asked, startled.

"Who are you?" he countered. "This is my house."

I let a small sigh of relief escape before extending my hand. "I'm sorry. You startled me. My name is Laura Debman. I'm going to Mr. Wood's party with Mrs. Lanolin."

"Oh. OK. I'm Mr. Lanolin," he said, reluctantly taking my hand.

"You're Wo—Oliver's uncle?" I said.

"By marriage," he responded, looking over my head. "Don't get that close to the fireplace! You'll catch the whole house on fire!" he shouted.

He pushed past me, stalked across the room and kicked the chain in one of its short, wooden legs. The chair practically flew to the center of the room.

I was watching, my mouth open slightly.

"Ready to go?" Mrs. Lanolin asked, walking past me, farther into the room.

I didn't answer, thinking she was talking to her husband, as she was walking in his direction and looking at him. After about thirty second of standing at the hearth, holding a pot of Floo Powder, she raised her eyebrows.

"Laura?" she asked.

"Oh. Yes, I'm ready," I said, hurrying across the room, avoiding furniture the best that I could. It wasn't easy, as the furniture seemed to be crowding into this room. There were about five chairs, three tables and a china cabinet.

"Good. I'll be back late. Don't wait up," Mrs. Lanolin said, definitely to her husband this time.

He snorted softly and left the room quickly.

I must have looked confused because Mrs. Lanolin explained quickly.

"He's a Muggle. Doesn't like my family much. Says they're too unpredictable. They think he's boring. Can't say I don't completely disagree with them sometimes. He's a good man, though. You go first," she said, pushing the Floo Powder at me.

I'd used Floo Powder only once, but I'd read plenty of stories where it was used. I took a pinch and stepped into the fireplace, a little nervously. Floo Powder was definitely not a science.

"Frank and Linda Wood residence," I said, clearly.

Fireplaces started flying by. I closed my eyes to stop from getting too dizzy. The swirling motion stopped quickly. I opened my eyes to see a small room with a couch along one wall and a chair in the corner. A woman around Mrs. Lanolin's age was sitting in the chair. She stood quickly.

"You'd better get out of the way before someone else comes," she said kindly.

"Oh, right," I said, quickly leaving the fireplace.

About two seconds later, there was a small pop and Mrs. Lanolin appeared. She stumbled out of the fireplace, recovered quickly, and laughed.

"Hello, Harriet," the woman in the room said.

"Hello, Linda," Mrs. Lanolin said. The two women hugged, awkwardly. Afterwards, they both stepped back, still smiling.

"How are you?" Wood's mother asked.

"Fine. And yourself?"

"Fine." Mrs. Wood turned to me. "I don't recognize you," she said politely.

"This is Laura Debman. Laura, this is Oliver's mother, Linda," Mrs. Lanolin said.

I smiled and shook Mrs. Wood's hand. She was looking at me rather oddly.

"Oh, yes. Oliver told us you were coming. He's told us about you," Mrs. Wood said, still kindly.

I tried to smile and succeeded a little bit. "Oh. Um… well, don't hear everything you believe."

"What?" Mrs. Wood and Mrs. Lanolin asked in unison.

"What?" I asked.

The two women laughed.

"She's a little nervous. I think my furniture may be partially to blame."

"Oh. I don't know why you keep that stuff. It's quite a fright when the chair you're sitting on decides to talk a walk to another room altogether," Mrs. Wood said, laughing.

"I like it."

"I've no idea why. You two are a little dirty. Isn't your cloak supposed to keep the ashes off of you, Laura?" Mrs. Wood asked, smiling.

I looked down at the cloak and cookies in my hand. "I forgot to put it on before I left." I bent down, placed the items on the floor and dusted myself off quickly.

"The doorway would have done that for you, dear," Mrs. Wood said.

I looked at the open door and then back at the two women. "How?"

The two women laughed, exchanging a look I didn't understand.

"Magic," Mrs. Lanolin said, smirking only a little.

"Oh. Right. Well… um…." I picked my cloak off of the ground, put it on hastily and then retrieved my tray of cookies, as well.

"Oliver is answering the front door with his father. He'll tell you where you can put the cookies and where the other children are," Mrs. Wood said. She motioned towards the only door in the room.

"Thank you, Mrs. Wood," I said. I walked out of the small room and into the entrance hall.

Oliver and his dad were leaning against the wall, laughing about something. They looked a lot alike. They both looked over at me and nodded.

"You came after all," Wood said.

"I said I would."

"Yes, but I still wasn't sure you'd come."

"Who's your friend?" Mr. Wood asked.

"This is Laura Debman. And this is my dad, Frank."

"Nice to meet you," I said, walking over to shake his hand.

"You as well. I've heard a lot about you."

"Recently?" I asked.

Mr. Wood laughed heartily. "Yes."

"Good," I said, a little relieved.

"You brought cookies," Wood said, looking at what I was holding.

"Is that OK? They're the only thing I can make decently. They're not fancy or anything, but—"

"They're more than fine. Chocolate chip?" Mr. Wood asked.

"Yes."

"My favorite. Why don't you show her to the kitchen, Oliver?"

"OK. Come with me," he said, starting to walk towards the inside of the house.

"Nice house," I said after I'd seen enough of it to say that. And it was a nice house. It was large, but not so large that the Woods couldn't furnish it well. Of course, wizarding families usually inherited their houses, so they had more time to pay for the things to go inside of an impressive house.

"Thanks. It's not a castle, but who really needs one, right?"

"Right," I agreed.

"Right."

"So… your father was a Quidditch captain, too," I said after several seconds of silence.

"Did Aunt Harriet already bring that up?"

"Yeah. Your family takes Quidditch quite seriously."

"Of course we do," Oliver said defensively.

"Explains a lot," I said simply.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Just that you're starting to make more sense."

He looked over at me, shook his head slightly and pushed a door open.

"The kitchen," he said, waiting for me to walk in. He followed closely behind.

"Nice."

"Thank you. You can put the cookies on the table with the rest of the desserts," Oliver said, taking them from me and doing it himself.

I walked over and looked at all of the things on the table. There were fancy cakes, pies and puddings. My cookies looked out of place, and I said so.

"Don't worry about that. Magic made these other desserts. I have to get back to the door. All of the people our age are outside in the backyard. Right outside of that door by the stove. I'll see you later," he said, leaving quickly.

I walked out of the kitchen into a well-lit backyard. About twenty teenagers were hanging around near a couple of tables with drinks and appetizers on them. Younger kids were running around farther away from the house. I joined the Gryffindor Seventh Years girls.

"You came," Joan said.

"I said I would come."

"We didn't think you would," Cedar said.

"Where's Rose?" I asked.

"Oh, she's got to be fashionably late," Cedar said, shaking her head. "You know Rose. Just like her mother, and since her parents were invited, they'll have to be twice as late to keep up appearances."

The four of us laughed. We joined Adam and Mark, who were talking to some Ravenclaws. Some Hufflepuffs joined us and soon all of us were in one big group, having about ten different conversations.

Oliver joined us all after about an hour, Rose right behind him with Flint. All of the Gryffindor Seventh Years exchanged looks. We laughed when Flint walked away from her to go to a different part of the group.

"We thought you'd come with him for a moment," Adam said, smiling.

"I wish," Rose said, smirking back.

Adam wrapped his arm around Tara's waist. The two of them never really flirted at Hogwarts. Not around the rest of us, at any rate. They'd been boyfriend and girlfriend before the rest of us had even thought about dating.

"Oh, stop rubbing it in," Rose said, turning away from them.

Wood had been standing behind her.

"Hey, you're a Quidditch captain," she said, slyly.

"Watch out, Wood. She may decide to stalk you next," Mark said, laughing.

"Maybe Flint would get jealous if—"

"Rose!" Joan said.

Rose laughed. "I was only kidding."

"Sure, you were," Cedar said.

"I'm going to say hello to everyone once more," Wood said, smiling. He started making his way through the crowd.

"He's not bad looking," Joan said, blushing a little.

"Hey," Mark said. The two of them had been dating off an on for a few months.

"She was only stating a fact," Cedar said. "She didn't mean anything by it."

"I know."

"Then why are you hey-ing?" Cedar asked.

"I was only kidding," Mark answered.

"Oh. Well, why didn't you just say so?"

The rest of us laughed.

"He's not that cute," Adam said.

"Yes, he is," I said without thinking.

They all looked at me, surprised.

"Just forget I said it," I said, blushing.

"Said what?" Dave Grather, Cedar's boyfriend, asked, walking up behind her.

"Nothing," I said.

"She just said that Wood is cute, which is true, so it's not a big deal," Joan said.

"Laura said that?" Dave asked.

"I'm going to get a butterbeer. When everyone stops making something out of nothing, I'll be back," I said, leaving to let them get the whole thing out of their systems.

I pushed my way through the crowd around the closest table. There were probably about forty people there now, ranging in ages from thirteen to almost twenty. Most of them were children of Oliver's parents' friends.

"Laura?"

I looked up. Fred and George were looking at me. I smiled kindly.

"Hi. How are you?"

"What are you doing here?" one of them asked.

"Is Percy here?" the other asked.

The first looked at the other and slapped him in the back of the head playfully.

"You're right," the second said.

"Of course I'm right. Percy wouldn't be caught dead within a mile of this place."

"Neither would she."

The two of them looked at me again.

"I can't make friends?" I snapped. "Oh, forget it." I walked back to the Gryffindors slowly. After a few minutes, I could join in the conversation again without feeling guilty. Oliver joined us again after several minutes.

Music started playing somewhere inside of the Woods' house. From the outside, the house looked a lot smaller than it clearly was inside. That didn't surprise me that much. Many houses were enchanted to look smaller than they were. It made the houses, and therefore the wizards living there, less conspicuous to Muggles.

"Well, the adults must be getting drunk enough to make fools out of themselves," Cedar said, still laughing a little from the conversation we had just finished.

"It's classical music," I said.

"They should still be sober enough to realize that," Wood said, laughing and checking a Muggle watch.

"What happens when they're not?" I asked.

"Nothing that makes sense," Rose said.

"How do you know?"

"We'll go in there soon, for dinner," Wood said.

"Oh."

"Something wrong?" Dave asked.

"No, I just said 'Oh,'" I said.

"But it sounded like there was something wrong," Dave said.

"Nothing."

"You don't have to dance," Wood said.

"Good."

Joan laughed. "That's what was wrong?"

I shrugged. "I don't like dancing."

"No one in there will remember—" Dave said.

"Well, that's not entirely true," Cedar interrupted. "The people under eighteen will remember."

"Twenty-one. My parents won't serve alcohol to anyone under twenty-one."

"We know," Adam muttered

"When Wood turns twenty-one, the age limit will go up again," Dave said, grinning at him.

"Probably," Wood admitted.

"Let's go inside and get some food," Rose said. "I'm starving."

There was a lot of good food there. I couldn't make up my mind about what I wanted, so I tried to randomly choose things that didn't contain the same foods, which was taking the random part out of it. When we reached the desserts, I was shocked to see about eight people huddled around my cookies.

"These taste… homemade," a woman around fifty said with her mouth full.

"They're different," another middle-aged woman said, not in a bad way.

"Someone cooked these."

"They're only chocolate chip cookies," I muttered to myself.

"Who made these?" an elderly lady asked.

"Laura did," Oliver said from behind me.

I turned to see him pointing and turned back, blushing, to the people around the cookies.

"You did?" the elderly lady asked me, kindly.

"Yeah."

"Where'd you learn to make them?"

"There's a recipe on the back of the chocolate chips bag, but I—"

"A recipe! See, they're homemade!" one of the other ladies interrupted, speaking to the other women.

"Told you not to worry," Wood said, laughing a little under his breath.

I turned around but he was walking towards the table the rest of the Gryffindors were sitting at.

"You're a Muggle," a middle-aged man said.

"What?" I asked, facing him.

"No, she isn't, Hank. Her parents must be," the elderly woman said.

I didn't know how to respond. I wasn't sure whether homemade cookies were a good thing or not.

"Your cooking is good, Laura," one of the younger women said. "Go off with your friends."

I forgot about getting a dessert for myself. I just walked back to the table, confused. I sat down in between Joan and Tara.

"I know there's something wrong, now," Dave said from his glass.

"She made cookies," Wood said, simply.

The others all nodded, understandingly. I cursed being the only Muggle-born in the group.

"Any sort of manual effort is… different," Joan said.

"Different bad?"

"No. Different good," Dave said, holding up part of one of my cookies.

"Oh. Well, then… whatever."

They all laughed but didn't talk about baking cookies anymore. After about an hour, we'd all had more than enough to eat and had digested enough to start getting bored.

"Let's dance," Cedar said, standing and holding her hand out to Dave.

Dave was a big guy, but he wasn't dominant by any means. Still, he just looked up at her.

"Someone spiked the punch," Rose said.

Cedar laughed. "We can't dance sober?"

"We dance every year," Joan said, shrugging.

"Outside," Dave added.

"Well… we're practically adults now," Cedar said.

There was a short silence while the rest of them thought about this. I was confused again.

"I'm confused again," I said.

"We've just never really thought about staying in here," Joan explained, like she was explaining why two plus two equals four.

"Dance with me," Tara said, also standing, and looking at Adam.

Adam shrugged and stood up. "OK." The two of them walked out to the center of the dance floor, which was positioned in between most of the tables in the upper center of the room. There were only a few couples on the dance floor, and they smiled at the young couple that had joined them.

"Huh," Wood said.

"'Huh', what?" I asked. I still wasn't quite following what the big deal was.

"We really are almost adults," Joan said, a little sadly.

"Because you're dancing inside?" I asked.

"Because we want to dance inside, in front of everyone. Because the older people seem to be expecting it," she said, looking at me.

I'd heard that age hits people hard every once in a while. I always thought they were talking about midlife crises. Not growing up.

"Huh," I said, looking back at Tara and Adam. "I thought you were all just crazy."

"Maybe a little," Joan said.

"Are you going to embarrass me, making me stand here with my hand out, asking you to dance all night?" Cedar asked.

Dave sighed deeply before standing up and walking very reluctantly to the dance floor. Other Seventh Years from other houses had taken Tara and Adam's lead and were also heading out to the floor. Joan and Mark joined them all, leaving Wood, Rose and me.

"I'm missing my chance," Rose said, standing. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck," I said. "Why?"

"Let him try to turn me down," she said, flashing a sly smile.

Wood and I watched and clapped when Rose finally succeeded in dragging Marcus Flint out onto the dance floor. The few other Slytherins there just laughed.

"Wonder what she threatened him with," Wood said.

I shrugged. "Probably nothing he hasn't been threatened with before."

"Probably not."

"Nope."

We watched our friends for a few minutes.

"Maybe we should have brought dates, huh?" Wood asked.

"The people I'd have asked wouldn't have been able to come, anyway," I said.

"Percy?"

"No. Friends back home. Muggles."

"Oh. Yeah, the magic may have been a little hard to explain," Wood said.

"Just a little."

"Probably," he said.

"Yeah."

One song ended and another song started up. The music seemed to be coming from no where.

"Where is the music coming from?" I asked.

"A radio with the volume up pretty high," Wood said.

"Oh. Good idea."

"It works. We just turn the radio down when commercials come on."

"Another good idea."

"You don't know how to dance, do you?"

"What?" I asked, looking at him.

"That's why you don't want to dance. You don't know how."

"I know how," I said indignantly.

"Then let's dance."

"With you?" I asked.

He laughed. "Two friends can't dance?"

"I don't like dancing in front of people."

"You don't know how."

"I do."

"Prove it," he said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

"Why?"

"You wouldn't like to prove me wrong?"

I didn't respond.

"You can't prove me wrong."

"I just don't want to," I said, fully realizing that he knew I never didn't want to prove him wrong.

"I'll bet you that you can't dance," Wood said.

"Why would I make a stupid—"

"I'll bet you a Knut that you can't dance."

I didn't answer again.

"I knew I was right."

"Well, it's not like I couldn't figure it out," I said, looking at the dance floor. I recognized the steps. It was just the one where the couple did the box-type steps.

Wood stood up and motioned.

"I don't want to figure it out here!" I whispered harshly.

"Why not? Everyone has to learn eventually."

"Not in front of everyone."

"All of us learned in front of everyone. There were just less everyones out in the backyard," Wood said. He smiled. "I'll teach you how to dance. You'll catch on immediately."

I looked up at him with a pained expression. "I'm going to regret this."

"You won't. I promise," Wood said, stepping back a little and motioning to the group of dancers again.

I walked to the edge of the group with him, making sure we were closest to empty tables. Most of the people in the room had gone to the center of the room to dance or had gone back outside.

"Right. Take my hand. Good. Now put your other hand—"

"On the back of your shoulder. I can see everyone else," I snapped.

"Do you want to learn?"

"I clearly remember saying no to that quite a few times," I muttered, barely touching his shoulder.

He laughed and put his hand on my back. "Now, step backwards a little with your left foot. No, that's your right."

"Right."

"No, left."

I laughed and stepped backwards a little. He followed with his opposite foot.

"Now back with the right foot."

I did. He continued to tell me exactly what to do. I followed his directions, but things still weren't going very well. Everything was choppy instead of flowing, and I was a little unsteady, which didn't help at all.

"Ouch," Wood said after I stepped on his foot for the first time.

"Sorry," I said.

"Don't look down. It's throwing you off. Don't look anywhere below my shoulders," he said, letting go of my hand and lifting my chin up. "Don't look down," he repeated, taking my hand again.

"OK."

"I'm just going to say which foot to move and not where to move it, OK? You know we're drawing a square with our steps."

"OK."

"Left. Right. Right. Left. Don't look down at your feet!"

"I forgot," I said, looking up quickly.

He laughed. "You're doing fine."

"Liar."

"You are. You're doing the steps, and I'm not even telling you what to do," he said.

"I am? I am!" I said, looking down at my feet. I looked up again quickly. "Don't look down. OK."

"Now, keep dancing, but look over at the other people. Do you see how they're forming a box with their steps but are moving in more of a circle?"

"Yes."

"OK. Keep looking away from your feet but follow my lead. I'll make it so we do that."

"OK."

After a few rounds, I was letting him lead, and like he said, we were dancing like everyone else. I laughed happily. Joan clapped from a meters away.

"Told you I could figure it out," I said, smiling to show that I was kidding.

"That will be five Knuts for your lesson," Wood said, smiling back.

I laughed. "I'll get it to you as soon as I can."

I looked him in the eyes for the first time since we'd started dancing and when he returned my gaze, it scared me a little. I looked away slowly.

"So," Wood said after a few seconds. "How has your first wizard party been going?"

I laughed. "Let's see. First I met your aunt, who almost immediately started talking about Quidditch, which wasn't that bad. Then she sends me to the fireplace being guarded by furniture that moves. Your uncle by marriage walks up behind me, almost giving me heart failure, to suddenly turn on a chair that gets too close to the fire—"

"Sparky," Oliver interrupted.

"Sparky?"

"That's its name."

"Sparky. Well, Sparky got kicked. Your aunt comes back and we leave. Then I make a fool out of myself in front of your mum and Mrs. Lanolin. My cookies pointed out to everyone that I'm not like them, and then someone I hated for almost five years for no reason taught me how to dance."

"Are you having fun?" he asked.

I laughed. "I'm having a great time," I said seriously.

"I thought you would."

"I could have used a warning about the furniture, though."

"And what fun would that be?"

"For you or for me?" I asked.

He laughed. "Sorry. My aunt's furniture moves, so don't be too surprised when you see it, OK?"

"Your aunt's furniture moves?"

"She's allergic to animal dander."

"Oh. OK."

"And I have a Muggle uncle who hates the whole rest of my family. And my family is… obsessed with Quidditch. And you may have to dance with me, just to save your pride."

"I may have to stay home."

He smiled a little.

"I'm kidding."

"I know," he said half-heartedly.

"Oliver, all of the things you just warned me about are OK."

"I know," he said with a little more confidence.

"You're a good teacher."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Laura?" a voice asked from behind me.

I let go of Wood's hand so I could turn around. A flash went off, and Mr. Wood lowered a camera.

"That should turn out well," he said, nodding and walking away.

I laughed and turned back to Oliver, who was blushing a little.

"My parents are the same way. Are you thirsty?"

"No, but go on and get yourself something to drink," he said, taking his hand off of my waist.

"I was planning on it." I took my hand off of his shoulder.

I got some punch at the main table. Fred and George were standing there, looking a little suspicious.

"Spiking it?" I asked.

"No. Dying it blood red," one said, simply.

"Oh. And adding...?"

"Fake fingers," he confirmed.

I laughed. "I'll remember that."

"Well, you catch on quickly," the other said, nodding behind me at Wood and an older woman dancing.

"You're here, too," I said.

"Does Percy know—"

"Who cares?" I interrupted. "He doesn't."

"He broke up with Penelope," the first said, quickly.

I looked at him skeptically.

"Well… she broke up with him," he added.

"How is he?" I asked.

"Who cares?" asked one.

"You don't," said the other.

"That's not fair," I said. "You two don't even like Percy."

"No," one said, dumping a bag of fake fingers in the punch, "but we love him."

The two boys nodded and walked away. I wasn't used to getting guilt trips from them, not that they talked to me unless I was at the Burrow.

"He's handsome," a woman around twenty-five to thirty said, walking up next to me. She reached for the ladle to the punch and changed her mind quickly.

"It's just food dye," I said a little coldly.

"Sorry," the woman said defensively.

"No." I smiled at her. "I'm sorry. Just a bit of bad news. Which one is handsome?"

"Which one?"

"I mean, I can't tell them apart to save my life, but—"

"Oh! You thought I was referring to the Weasley twins. No, although they'll be handsome as well in a few years if they're anything like their older brothers."

"Probably," I agreed. "I'm Laura, by the way."

"I'm Janet."

"Nice to meet you."

"You as well. Are your parents here?"

"No," I said nonchalantly.

"Neither are mine. I'm in the same department as Frank Wood at the Ministry."

"Oh. What department?"

"Quidditch."

I laughed. "The same as five years ago."

"What was five years ago?"

I shook my head. "Long story."

"You go to school with their son?"

"Yeah. We're in the same house and year."

"I've never seen you here before," she said, deciding to drink the punch even if it did look like blood.

"Oh. Um… this was the first year I could make it."

"I see."

"I doubt it," I said, partially to myself. "Who were you saying was handsome?"

"Frank's son."

I had been looking over the crowd. I stopped and laughed.

"You don't agree?"

"I agree. I was just expecting you to say someone else."

"Who?" Janet asked, scanning the crowd like I had been.

"No one in particular. Anyone."

"I guess it's hard to see your friends that way," she said.

I thought for a second. "Something like that."

She looked at me, raising an eyebrow.

"Long story," I repeated.

"Sounds interesting. I'll have to ask Frank about it."

"What?"

"Oliver tells him everything. Within reason, of course."

"Oh." I winced a little without meaning to.

"It was nice meeting you," she said. She was looking towards a man around her age walking over.

"You, too."

"We enjoyed watching you learn how to dance," she said without looking away from the man. She walked away to meet him partway.

"'More everyones than the rest of us,'" I mumbled to myself, walking back to the table we'd eaten at. The rest of the Seventh Year Gryffindors were there. Dave was with some of his Ravenclaw friends.


[This chapter was too long to fit onto one page, so I am splitting it here. The next chapter is going in right now.]

[This was supposed to be part of Chapter 5, but the chapter was too long.]


Chapter 6: Slytherin


"How many drinks did you get?" Wood asked jokingly.

"Oh. I was talking to one of your dad's coworkers."

"Why?" Cedar asked.

"She got my attention right away," I said.

"How?"

"Oh… just heard her talking to herself," I said before taking a sip of the pre-dyed punch.

"You caught on quickly to the dance. It took Adam hours," Tara said, smiling at him.

"She had a better teacher," Adam said, grinning back.

"He's had more practice," Tara countered.

"You've taught a lot of people to dance?" I asked.

"A few," Wood said, shrugging.

"He taught all of us girls to dance," Joan said. "The three of us only took about an hour in total to learn. Now, Mark and Adam were a different story."

"You taught Mark and Adam how to slow dance?" I asked, laughing.

"It would have gone a lot faster if he had," Joan said, also laughing.

"We had to learn how to lead. That's harder," Mark said.

"You learned. That's what's important," Tara said.

"How many other people have you taught?" I asked Wood.

"A few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. A few cousins."

"A year," Cedar said, smiling. "He's good at it."

I nodded. "Were you serious about the five Knuts—"

"No," Wood interrupted.

"OK. I thought you were kidding, but it seems like you're running a business, so… has anyone ever owed you a Knut for that bet?" I asked.

"A Knut?" Cedar asked. "He bet me a Sickle."

"I was positive that you didn't know how to dance," Wood said, smirking.

"And you weren't positive I couldn't? You only bet me a Knut," Adam said, laughing.

"You made that bet with Adam, too?" I asked.

"Don't take it personally," Wood said.

"I wasn't."

"I was only kidding," Adam said.

"Oh. I knew that. Um… who taught you how to dance?"

"Mum," Wood said simply. "When I was twelve."

"He taught us when we were thirteen. Wood and I would be stuck dancing together because Adam and Tara and Joan and Mark would choose each other," Cedar said, laughing.

I shrugged. "You could have danced with other people."

"We did. Oliver taught lots of girls how to dance. Probably most of the Seventh Years and a fair amount of the Sixth Years."

"Ah." I forced a little laugh, hoping that it sounded natural enough. "Well, I was a little late, but I got my lesson, hum?"

No one said anything. I was wondering if I had sounded offended when I realized why they weren't talking. No one was. Then I wondered how many people had heard what I said. Was everyone waiting to see how Wood reacted? I hadn't seemed that hurt. I wasn't that hurt.

"What?" I whispered as quietly as I could.

Wood put a finger to his lips, then pointed to his watch.

I pulled his arm across the table so I could see the time. There was a little less than a minute until midnight. I looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

Wood just put his finger to his mouth again.

I sat in silence, more confused than any time that night. About twenty seconds later, a bang went off. I jumped and almost screamed. Not that it would have mattered if I would have screamed. Everyone in the room had started cheering. Another bang went off and everyone looked up.

At the top of the room, miniature fireworks were going off. I watched the five minute show with awe for the designs the fireworks were making. They spelled things. They formed pictures. They stayed lit longer than any Muggle fireworks. They were magnificent.

"There's a minute of silence at the end of the year, to signify the year's passing and those that passed with it," Wood explained after the short show.

"Oh. Another thing that I could have been warned about," I said, much more coldly than I planned on.

"Are you OK?" Cedar asked.

I looked over at her. "Yes."

"You seem… upset," she said.

"No. I'm still just a little confused. Most things tonight have been different than I'm used to."

"We understand," Joan said.

"Time for my favorite time of the night!" Adam said.

"What?" I asked.

"Games," they all said, standing up.

I stood up with them. "Games? What sort of games?"

"Wizards and Warlocks!" Adam said, almost jumping up and down out of happiness.

"Adam's team always wins," Tara said, smiling at him.

"How's it work?" I asked.

"Wait and listen to the directions," Wood said. We were gathering in the middle of the room with most of the other people there who were under fifty years old.

Mr. Wood was in the middle of the room with two flags. One was black with fire coming out from behind a dark figure. The other was blue with two wands crossing, forming an X, with sparks surrounding them.

"All right. For those of you who have never played Wizards and Warlocks, or for those of you who have forgotten, here are the rules:

"First: the two teams may only have two people guarding the flag. An unlimited number of others may guard the territory, but may not come within twenty feet of the flag itself.

"Second: at any time you may cross into the other team's side, but when you do, they may capture you, and you must walk back to the jail, which is this house, at the front door. A teammate must come to the door, which is considered neutral territory, to retrieve you. You may leave only after you've spent five minutes at the door. You are obligated to come immediately here once being tagged by a member of the opposing team. A person can free as many teammates from the jail as they wish simply by touching them.

"Third: once a team has gotten possession of the flag, they must get it onto their side before they have won.

"And last of all… any strategy may be used as long as you remain on the ground. Magic may be used if you have graduated from Hogwarts or another wizarding school. Magic may not be used on a person, only objects. These objects may be anything as long as they will not harm a person. Also, the flags themselves cannot be tampered with in any way and must be within plain sight.

"That's it. First team to get the other team's flag on their side of the field wins," Mr. Wood concluded.

"Are there any boundaries?" someone asked.

"Oh, yes. I almost forgot, thank you. The field is a square mile, the center of which is the front door. The house is out of bounds. You have to go around it. The boundaries are marked by a red light. You can't mistake them if you come across them. A team's flag may be anywhere on their team's side. One team, the Wizards, will have the south side… towards town. The division between the two sides is marked by a yellow line along the ground that won't interfere with running."

"This is Capture the Flag," I said, relieved.

"Except there's magic," Joan said, quietly. "Don't underestimate that fact."

"OK. Choosing teams," Mr. Wood said. "Each side will have an even amount of students and people who can use magic."

Mr. Wood chose two men to choose teams. The adults were chosen first, then the students. Adam was the first student chosen. I ended up on his team, with Joan and Wood. Tara, Mark, Cedar and Dave were on the Wizards' team.

"OK. Go outside. Hide your flag and strategize. The game will begin in fifteen minutes. Wherever your flag is at that time, it will stay until a member of the other team touches it. And, yes, the flag will know.

"Ready… set… GO!" Mr. Wood yelled.

All of us ran out of the house from different exits. I followed the people on my team to the north side of the house. We were all wearing black armbands that were charmed to make sure we didn't cheat. We all stopped about halfway into our area, according to other Warlocks. They decided to hang our flag out of a tree. It was visible, but not horribly so.

"OK, Adam. What's the plan?" I asked as all of us gathered together.

"Hey, I don't plan. I just always win," he said, shrugging.

"We've got to find the other team's flag, first. We should split up into small groups and look around, leaving about a third of us over here to watch our own flag and set traps," Wood said.

Everyone nodded. There were about forty of us.

"OK. How about half of the adults stay here, since you can use magic. You can set a few traps or decoys. You guys figure out who's going to watch the flag. The rest of us should sneak over. Once someone sees it, they should come back quickly and clear the jail out. Then we can strategize more," Wood continued.

"What if the other team finds our flag and doesn't delay an attempt at getting it?" I asked.

"They won't get very far," a young man said. "Strategy and teamwork is the only way to win this game. The games usually last at least an hour. You'll catch on quickly, especially if you stick with Wood, here."

"OK," I said. I was only asking. I didn't really know what I was talking about.

"OK. Let's split up," Adam said, clapping his hands once.

We all cheered, although not too loudly, since we didn't want to tip the other team off to our position.

"Remember, we can't cross the yellow line until the siren sounds," Wood said loudly, as we all started jogging in different directions.

Adam, Joan, Wood and I all went together. Wood decided we should head towards one of the boundaries first. While we didn't want to follow one of them, we also didn't want to go straight down the middle of the field.

"Any ideas where they'll hid it?" I asked.

"Nope. That's what makes this game fun," Adam said.

"What makes this game fun for you is that you always win," Joan said, laughing.

"That doesn't hurt."

We kept walking. The siren went off before we even could see the yellow line, so that wasn't an issue anymore. When we did get within sight of it, we could hear some people coming.

The four of us hid behind trees, quietly, and waited until the people were passing before jumping out and tagging all of them quickly. They all muttered their disappointment, but they were only about twelve or thirteen, and no one really expected anything different from them.

"Maybe we're in too big of a group," Wood said. "We'll be heard just as easily as they were."

"Not if we don't talk. I'd rather stick together," Joan said.

"I agree," I said.

"Scared of the dark?" Adam asked us.

"A little," I admitted.

The guys laughed. Joan pointed to herself and nodded, mouthing, "Me, too."

"We'll just have to rely on you men, then, won't we?" she said aloud, sarcastically.

"Damn straight," Adam said, hiking up his pants.

We kept walking and about fifteen minutes later, we were tagged by people on the other team. We walked back to the front door as quickly as we could, laughing and not worrying about making noise or not. We figured it would only help our teammates who were trying to go quietly.

We found the front door not liberated, which was good. We'd get to learn where the flag was with everyone else. About ten minutes later, the man who'd explained about the game lasting a long time came with whom I assumed was his wife. They tagged all of the people who'd been there five minutes, and we followed the pair into our territory a little farther.

"The flag is about halfway into their area, on the west side, almost right on the boundary. I'd say it's probably about twenty feet from it, in fact," the man said. "So, the best strategy would probably be to split into pairs and half of the pairs go around and come in from the back, and the others take their time and come in from our direction. Hopefully, we'll all come in at around the same time."

"Sounds good to me," Adam said. "I'll go with you, Wood."

"Let the girl go with him. Then she'll be able to participate in the next two games, if it comes down to that," the man's partner said.

"Next two games?" I asked.

"We play best two out of three. If one team wins in two games, we'll play another game instead of this one again," Wood said.

"And each of these games last at least an hour?" I asked.

"That's why you're coming home with me," Joan said, laughing.

Wood and I ended up in the half that was going to come in from the front. We had no problems not talking, so that ended up being a plus for us. Of course, that was about the only plus.

We were doing pretty well until Wood led us into a trap. One moment we're walking carefully and pretty quietly towards the other side's flag. The next thing I know, we're up in the air in a net.

I screamed a little late. It was a delayed reaction, I guess. Anyway, I screamed after the net was done ensnaring the two of us. It wasn't a small net but was still intended for only one person. I ended up sitting on Wood's legs, with my back up against part of the net.

"You were following way too close," Wood snapped.

"Obviously. You led me right into this."

"You think I did on purpose or something?"

"No. Can they do this? This has got to be breaking some rule," I said, trying to find a more comfortable position.

"Stop moving," Oliver said. "We're lucky we ended up in a halfway reasonable position. I don't think you have to use your imagination to understand what I mean."

I blushed, which didn't really matter because it was so dark. I could barely see his silhouette.

"How far up are we?" I asked.

"You're in a better position to judge that," he said. He was angled so that he was looking more up than anything.

"I'll have to move, then," I said, leaning to see the ground better. "I'd say we're about five feet up."

"Five feet? Well, it wouldn't kill us to fall that distance."

"No, but it'd hurt," I answered. I sighed and leaned up against the netting the best that I could in my position. "So we just wait for someone to magic us out of this thing?"

"Yes. They'll come check the trap sometime. That's an unwritten rule to this game, luckily. Traps, however, are perfectly legal."

"You weren't looking for them?"

"It's hard to see them in the dark. A light would be a dead giveaway, though, so people get caught in these things every year."

"So much for learning from you," I muttered.

"I did teach you how to dance."

"You know what I meant."

He didn't answer right away. "Well, at least you learned what it's like to get trapped."

I laughed. What else could I do?

"You're sitting on my legs," he said.

"I'll try to slide down so I'm only leaning against them, then," I said, and, surprisingly, I succeeded.

"So…."

"I guess there's no point in being quiet now, huh?" I asked.

"It'd probably serve us better to talk."

I nodded, pointlessly. "Have a nice Christmas?"

"Yes. You?"

"Yes."

"Get your homework done?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Yeah, me too."

There was a pause.

"How's Percy?" he asked.

"Not funny, Wood."

"Why? I meant it." He sounded serious.

"Fred and George said that he broke up with Penelope. Can't say I'm heartbroken over that, but… I don't know."

"Well, you won't have to hang around me anymore, then," he said.

"What if I wanted to?" I asked, looking in his approximate direction.

"You want to?"

"Yes, all of you. I've had a good time around you all. Seems stupid to give it up just because I don't need it anymore. Unless you would object to that," I said, getting a little defensive.

"No. Do whatever you like."

"I will, then." I paused. "Thank you."

"For saying that you could hang around us? You never needed my permission for that, even when you wouldn't have gotten it. There's nothing I could have done about you being there."

"I meant thank you for making me feel welcome with you in the first place."

"Oh." There were a few seconds before he said, "You're welcome, Laura."

"Thanks, Wood."

"Why do you call me Wood and not Oliver?"

I looked over at him. "Everyone calls you Wood."

"Not girls."

I laughed. "That's not true. Anyway, what does it matter?"

"You called me Oliver when we were younger."

"I'm still missing the point. And I still call you Oliver, sometimes."

"When you mean something."

"Yes. Isn't that good? You know when I mean something."

"I'd rather think you always meant what you said."

"I do. I just mean some things more. And you haven't always called me Laura."

"Yes, I have."

"No, you haven't. In our second year after that whole fight, you didn't call me anything at all. In our third and fourth years, you called me You. In our fifth year, I was promoted to Hey You, and then in our sixth year, you didn't call me anything at all, again."

Wood laughed. "How do you remember that?"

"I just do. I remember a lot about people. Things that don't matter."

"Why do you call me Wood instead of Oliver?" he asked again.

I sighed. "You aren't going to drop this, are you?"

"No."

"If you tell me why it matters, then maybe I'll think of why I don't call you Oliver."

"Fair enough," he said. "It matters because how you address someone tells a little about what you think about them, and I want to know why you only call me Wood."

I looked down (well, down a little bit) into my lap. "I never really thought about it. Not really. I guess, Oliver is just a more personal way of addressing you, and I still… being civil with each other still seems strange sometimes."

"OK."

"I didn't mean that in a mean way or—"

"I know."

"OK. Oliver?"

"Call me Wood or Oliver. It doesn't really matter."

I started to roll my eyes but stopped myself. "There's no reason why I shouldn't call you Oliver. Even if I'm not used to you being my friend, you are, and if calling you Oliver is important to you, then Oliver you are."

"It's not important."

"If it weren't then I don't think you would have asked."

"Or I could have just been trying to get a rise out of you."

"You've had enough practice with that to find better ways of doing it."

"True," he said, seriously. "By Merlin's beard, it is taking a long time for someone to come to our rescue."

"Someone should have come by now, right?"

"Not necessarily. If the game is going strong, then the other team'll probably purposely stay clear of here because we're two people they don't have to worry about. Even if they think we're only one person."

"But what about our team?"

"It's a square mile of land. Chance would be the only to bring them here."

"Unless we yell."

"Which would bring both sides here."

"Good. They'll get us down."

"But our side would get tagged, and that would do more harm than good. There are two more games. We'll play then."

"If we get down by then," I muttered.

"Right," he said, seriously.

"It's too bad you didn't go with Adam," I said.

"You still may have ended up in this trap, just with Joan. They'd have sent Adam and I the long way, just to keep Adam out of the way. His team always wins, but not thanks to him."

I laughed. "That wasn't very nice."

"Hey, I'm a Quidditch captain. Strategy matters more than people's feelings to me."

"Maybe in Quidditch it does, but I don't believe that applies in every day life."

"No?"

"No."

"Then you may end up unpleasantly surprised one day," Oliver said.

I shook my head. "I don't think you've changed that much since we started Hogwarts."

"I've changed a lot. So have you."

"I've had to, I guess. To keep up with everything."

"I have, too."

"To the point where you don't care about others' feelings?"

"That isn't what I said. I don't care to the point where others' feelings will get in the way."

"In the way of what?"

"What I want," he said simply and unapologetically.

"You sound like a Slytherin," I said.

"I don't not care that much," he said.

"Is there much of a difference between how much you don't care and that much?"

"What are you lecturing me? How many times have you put your wants or needs on hold for others' feelings?"

"More than you'll ever know."

"Oh? Name one."

"Every time Percy needed me!"

"Every time Percy needed you?"

I took a deep breath. "Look. We've been doing well. We're stuck in a net together and we haven't fought yet, but we're right on the brink of doing so."

"I want to know how you've helped Percy—"

"But it isn't any of your business, is it?" I interrupted, a little more harsly than I'd wanted to. I took another breath. "I'm sorry."

"No. You're right. It isn't any of my business."

I smiled into the darkness. "I think we just solved a… disagreement without many harsh words."

"God help us, we're actually learning to get along," Oliver said, laughing.

A horn sounded a little ways off.

"We won," he said.

"How can you tell?"

"The tone was the Warlocks' tone. It's lower than the Wizards'. Someone should be coming along soon."

And he was right. About five minutes later, without any conversations, a member of the other side did come to check her trap.

"Oliver?" she asked.

"Hey, Aunt Celeste."

She laughed in a sort of sing-song laugh. "Well, I certainly didn't expect to catch you here, Oliver. And it's even more of a shock to find another person with you. Mind introducing me?"

"Mind getting us down first?" Oliver asked, although good-naturedly.

The woman magicked us out of her trap, and the two of us painfully straightened our backs. She looked kind of young to be Oliver's aunt. She was maybe thirty.

"I'm Laura Debman," I said, offering the woman my hand.

"Nice to meet you, Laura. I'm Celeste Wood," she said, shaking my hand firmly. "How do you know Oliver?"

"Hogwarts," he said. "We're both in Gryffindor. Seventh Years."

"Are you a Seventh Year, now? Why, I can't believe it. It seems like you were just a First Year days ago."

"No, it doesn't," Wood said, laughing.

"It doesn't now, but as you get older, the faster the years will seem to go for you. We watched you teach Laura how to dance. It was more interesting to watch than most years," Celeste said, looking at me and smiling kindly.

Oliver laughed. "You all still watch me dance?"

"It's why your mother still has these parties."

"I thought you danced outside," I said.

"He did."

"And my family would come out and try to look inconspicuous."

"And failed miserably, obviously," Celeste said, laughing.

I couldn't help smiling when she laughed. She was just that kind of person. She could spread cheer easily. I easily got over the fact that I had just hung out of a tree in a net for the past half an hour.

"I think you're getting better at dancing, Oliver," Celeste said, looking him in the eyes. They were almost exactly the same height.

"Thank you," he said.

"My lack of coordination must make you look good," I said.

"No, that wasn't it," she said. She laughed. "We should get back to the house for the next round. Broomsticks are allowed in the next match."

The two Woods started for the house with me close behind, although with more of a distance than the last time I'd followed Oliver.

Our team lost the next game, but won the last one, further proving Adam to be a good luck charm. I had fun acting as a decoy with Joan, so others could sneak in and take the flag while the Wizards' attention was diverted.

We went back into the main room to find the older couples dancing. All of us watched them for a few songs. Mr. Wood came up on my left near the end of the second song.

"When I was a boy, this is how all of the dancing was. The dances were more complex, and there were more dances than just the one you learned tonight."

I nodded, still watching the people on the floor. It wasn't only individual couples moving along to the beat of their own drums. Everything was synchronized. The man nearest to me was dancing just as much with the woman on the farthest side of the floor as he was with his dancing partner.

"Children don't learn the old dances anymore. I only know one or two," Mr. Wood continued.

"Have Oliver learn them so he can teach them to all of us," I said, smiling and looking at Mr. Wood briefly.

"He has no desire to learn them. And I don't blame him. It's a new time. It's not these people's age anymore," he said, motioning towards the older couples.

"I always think of the wizarding world as having no ages. It seems old-fashioned to me, although we can do things I only dreamed were possible when I was little. Some things magic can do I couldn't even dream of now."

"No. Things change just as quickly in the magical world as they do in the Muggle one." He paused. "But that isn't what I wanted to speak with you about."

I stopped smiling and looked over at the man standing beside me. It took less than the tone of this voice to know that I wouldn't enjoy what was coming.

"All right," I said, "but if you're going to talk about what happened five years ago—"

"No," Mr. Wood interrupted. "Just one thing."

"OK," I said, cautiously.

"Leave him alone," Mr. Wood said. He walked away without even looking at me.

My mouth was hanging open a little as I watched him leave. I was confused. I continued to look in the same direction even a few minutes after Mr. Wood's retreating back had disappeared in the crowd.

"Something wrong?"

I turned to see Oliver and shook my head, more to say I didn't know than to say no, but Wood took it as a no.

"Well, then… it's kind of an off year as far as teaching people to dance goes—"

"Thanks, a lot," I said.

"No, I mean, there's no one to teach."

"I'm going to assume that didn't come out right, either," I said, laughing.

"It didn't," Oliver said. He laughed. "The party will end soon, now that Wizards and Warlocks is over. The rest of the time people will just spend dancing and talking, and, well… we both need someone to dance with."

I raised an eyebrow. "You're asking me to dance?"

"Yes."

"Did hell freeze over? Because I told Percy to notify me immediately if it did."

Oliver laughed a little under his breath. "You danced with me before, and it wasn't a big deal."

"You made me."

"Oh, I see. I just have to guilt you into it again, then, right?"

I laughed. "No, I don't think my pride can take that twice in one night."

"Good," Wood said, motioning towards the dance floor.

"Well… I was going to ask that cute Ravenclaw over there if he'd like to dance, but then what kind of friend would I be?"

"Who? Maybe I can introduce you to him," Oliver said, turning towards where the Ravenclaws were sitting.

"I was kidding," I said, walking onto the floor.

"Oh," Wood said, following.

I had fun dancing with him. We didn't argue, even when I stepped on his foot after about thirty minutes.

"See? How could you not look like a good dancer in comparison to me?" I asked, smiling.

"Don't look down at the floor. You looked down."

"Yeah. Sorry."

"You admit it?"

"Admit it? What? Looking down at the floor? Sure, I admit it. I did it."

"But there was a time when you'd have never admitted it."

"And during that time, I never would've been dancing with you," I said, laughing.

"You're right."

"See? I never thought you'd say that to me, either."

Oliver only nodded, looking over my shoulder.

"Should I dare to turn around and see what you're looking at?"

"No. There's nothing to see. My dad was looking strangely over here for a minute."

"Oh," I said, forgetting to dance for a few beats, causing Wood to step on my foot.

"Sorry," he said, getting us back on the beat. "Why'd you stop?"

"Your dad doesn't like me."

"He knows about you," Wood said, seriously.

I laughed because it was the first reaction to come to me. "Ouch."

"I only told him the truth."

"Including recently?"

"I tell him everything."

"Even that you don't hate me anymore," I asked, carefully.

"And how do you know I don't?"

"I'm serious, Oliver."

"Yes, I told him that I don't hate you."

"And he doesn't believe you?"

"He believes me. He just doesn't… agree with me."

I nodded, trying to keep myself from getting angry. "I can understand. I guess."

Joan tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned around, away from Wood. She was smiling to herself.

"Ready to go?" I asked, putting my hands down at my sides.

"Yes," she said, still smiling. "Thank you for inviting us, Oliver."

He nodded. "I'm glad you could come. I'll walk you to the fireplace."

We thanked Oliver's parents. Mr. Wood didn't show any signs of not trusting me. Mrs. Wood hugged Joan and then me. I smiled broadly back at her after she let go.

"You kids keep growing up so quickly," she said, looking at us. "I have pictures of you all when you were eleven. It's amazing how much you change in those seven years at Hogwarts, isn't it?"

I agreed, trying to remember any pictures being taken of me when I was eleven. It was possible, but I didn't remember ever meeting Oliver's parents until that night.

We thanks Mr. and Mrs. Wood again before following Oliver into the hallway.

"There will always be these parties, won't there?" Joan asked.

"What do you mean?" Wood asked.

"I mean… after we graduate, we'll always be able to see each other on New Year's?"

"For many years, yes," he said, smiling kindly at Joan.

"How long have there been New Year's parties here?" I asked.

"Since my grandfather was young."

"Wow," I said.

"It's tradition. That's why Dad keeps having these parties."

"Will you?" Joan asked.

Wood looked at her questioningly.

"I mean, if you inherit the house, years from now, will there still be New Year's parties here?"

Oliver shrugged. "I've never really thought about it. I guess, as long as people keep coming, there will be parties here."

"Good," Joan said, as we reached the room we would leave from. "Thanks for inviting us, Oliver," she said, reaching up to hug him.

He returned her hug without seeming uncomfortable at all. Was there ever someone I could hug like that, that I wasn't related to? Percy? Yes. I used to be able to hug Percy like that. Just a friendly hug that didn't mean anything except everything.

"Something wrong?" Oliver asked.

I snapped back into the real world and forced myself to smile quickly. "No," I lied. "I was just thinking about Percy."

"Oh," Wood said plainly.

Joan slapped him playfully.

"If you two could only be friends again…" I said.

He looked a little irritated but forced himself to smile, too. "We would both have to give up too much," he said.

"Too much what?" Joan asked.

"Pride," Oliver said. He laughed a little under his breath. "Thanks for coming, girls. See you in a couple of days."

I spent a few hours at Joan's house, sleeping, before getting ready to go back to Oliver's aunt's house to get my car and drive home. After saying goodbye to Joan's family, who treated me like an honored guest during breakfast, I walked with Joan into the living room, where their fireplace was.

"You're glad you came, aren't you?" Joan asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. Thank you very much for letting me stay here until after curfew was over."

"It was no problem. Our pleasure."

"The pleasure was mine."

Joan laughed. "Now that the necessary polite comments are over…."

"I meant it."

"I know you did. But you had fun last night?"

"Of course."

"You looked like you were but… I wasn't sure."

"Why not?"

"Because it looked like you were having fun with Oliver Wood."

It was my turn to laugh.

"It was kind of reassuring. Like when we were younger. We've all tried to be his friends and we succeeded, Laura, don't get me wrong. We've just never been able to be his best friends."

I shrugged. "Quidditch it Oliver's best friend," I said plainly.

"Now it is. Anyways, it's nice to see you two as friends again."

"Yes," I agreed. "Why didn't he invite Percy and me to the party when we were first years?"

"Percy was there. His parents invited people when Oliver was younger. His parents didn't know your parents, so they didn't invite them."

"Oh." I looked at the clock. "I'm late. Thanks again for letting me stay."

"Anytime. I'll see you tomorrow."

I groaned. "Ugh. Back to school work."

She smiled. "And Hogwarts."

I took a small amount of Floo Powder and went to Mrs. Lanolin's house.

She was sitting in one of the chairs, which I thought was rather brave of her. When she saw me, she stood up, smiling broadly.

"Hello," she said loudly.

"Hello. Sorry I'm late."

"It's OK. It was a late night. You probably overslept by a few minutes, right?"

I smiled. Let her assume what she wanted.

"Have a nice time?"

"Yes," I said, kindly, following her through the living room, still making an attempt to stay away from the furniture.

"Good."

"Thank you for letting me keep the car here overnight and use your fireplace, Mrs. Lanolin," I said once we'd reached the front door.

"Oh, anything for Oliver's friends." She opened the door slightly. "Let me know if you ever need to borrow the fireplace again, OK?" she asked.

I nodded. "Thank you. Happy New Year," I said, placing a hand on the door.

"You, too."

I left the house quickly, knowing this time what it was that the neighbors weren't supposed to see. I drove home and slept most of the day. That evening I got my stuff together for school.


[Author's Note I didn't want to cut the Christmas vacation into pieces, but it ended up being necessary. Chapter 5 was too long to be posted in its entirety. I hope you liked the chapter despite the awkward break. In the next chapter: many secrets revealed! What enigma is the Quidditch stadium holding? What is up with that Ford Anglia? And what happened to Daniel Weasley? How exciting!]

Chapter 7: Quidditch Captains

I sat with Percy on the way back to Hogwarts. He was still depressed about breaking up with Penelope. He said that they mutually decided to break up because Penelope felt like she needed more space. I listened sympathetically. I was happy, though. I had Percy back. As mad as I was at him for ditching me for months, I forgave him because I needed him. I still needed him.

When school started again, the teachers were all placing their emphasis on preparing us for the N.E.W.T.s. It was… well… nauseatingly exhausting. I spent most of my spare time with Percy in the library, studying.

Really, I spent most of my time with Percy. Everything was going back to how it was before Percy and Penelope started dating. Percy and I were best friends again. I was really happy, for a while. Until I realized that I missed my other friends.

Percy and Oliver were fighting more than they ever had. They wouldn't just ignore each other anymore. They would go out of their way to start something. But now, I wasn't on Percy's side. Or Oliver's side. No, now I was trying to play the role of the peacemaker. If studying for N.E.W.T.s was nauseatingly exhausting, trying to keep the peace between two of my friends was impossibly grueling.

I usually spent about half an hour with the rest of the Seventh Years while Percy got ready for bed. He went to bed earlier than most of us did.

"Why do you put up with that bloody idiot?" Oliver asked one night, a few days into February.

I rubbed my temples. "You two give me the worst headaches," I muttered.

"He left you alone for over a year, and you automatically just welcomed—"

I interrupted him by holding up my hand. "I'm tired, Oliver. Just… give it a rest for tonight, OK?"

Oliver didn't answer. He just stood up and left.

I looked over at the rest of the Seventh Years and smiled a little. "I can't put up with them for much longer."

"Maybe you should talk to him," Joan said. "He seemed a little… mad."

I sighed but stood up. "All right."

I walked out of the Common Room and turned to the Fat Lady.

"Do you know where Oliver went?"

"That way," the Fat Lady said, pointing to her left.

"Thanks." I turned, relieved. At least he didn't go the other way. The left part of the hallway led to a short hallway with two dead ends. I walked down to the little hall and saw Oliver looking out the window on my left. I walked up behind him.

"I'm sorry I cut you off. Go ahead and say what you need to."

Oliver shook his head.

"I'm trying, Oliver." I sighed again. "The truth is… I've never been able to be a good friend to you both."

"Percy always seems to get the better deal," he said, blandly. He smiled a little at me.

I grinned back. "I'm sorry." I walked up next to him to look out the window, too. There was a full moon shining wonderfully on the lake. It was beautiful.

"I miss you," I whispered. "All of you," I added quickly. I blushed. Hadn't I been planning on saying 'all of you' to begin with?

"So you ignore us," Wood said, shaking his head.

"What am I supposed to do? Tell Percy that I'm going to spend some time with my other friends? Leave him alone? Haven't I done that one too many times? I'm trying to learn. And the two of you fight so badly, I can't spend time with you both."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both," I admitted.

"What about Joan?" Oliver asked, quickly. "She took you under her wing, and when you didn't need her anymore, you left."

"She doesn't need me either," I said, looking down at my hands, which were resting on the window sill.

"But she misses you. We all do."

I moved my thumbs around each other slowly. "If you would only apologize—"

"Not again… do you ever ask him to—"

"You know as well as I do that he would never make the first move at becoming friends—"

"Then why should I?" Oliver asked, bitterly.

"So it can be like it was," I said, looking up at him.

Oliver didn't answer. He kept looking out the window, angrily.

I sighed. "I'll spend more time with you guys."

"If you want to be with Percy, then—"

"I want to be with you," I interrupted. I blushed again. I put a hand up to my forehead to check my temperature, knowing that I was fine. "You know what I meant," I muttered.

Oliver didn't say anything for a few minutes, so I tried to explain what I was thinking.

"You know… the last time I was really happy was when we were all first and second years. Maybe for a few weeks the summer before our fourth year, too, but… never mind. Even though we were technically competing over Percy all of the time, you were still my friend, Oliver. Maybe that's why I took Percy's side. I could win the competition. I wish I hadn't, now. You know I'm sorry about what happened. I know you know that. I know you're sorry, too. Now you can end it. After five years, you can end it. We can just be three equal friends."

He looked down at me kindly and my stomach dropped. Don't make things more complicated, I told myself sternly.

And I knew that it was too late for us to be three equal friends. I didn't need Oliver to know it. I certainly didn't need Percy to know it. I could deal with it. It didn't matter. It would go away.

"I won't apologize," he said. "But I'll try to stop fighting with him so much. You know… for your sake. Because I rather enjoy arguing with him."

I laughed. "I know what you mean. I kind of enjoy arguing with him, too. And you, for that matter."

He looked down at me, and I scared myself again. I nodded and walked away quickly, saying something about homework and sleeping. I went upstairs and talked myself into believing that nothing had changed since… since… hell, since when didn't matter. Nothing had changed since whenever.

I did start spending more time with the rest of the Seventh Years. Percy didn't seem to care much. While this did hurt a little, it was almost a relief, as it made things easier. I still spent more time with Percy than I did with my other friends, but I spent enough time with them that it was normal when I was with them, and not forced as it had been when I had spent less than an hour a day with them.

Around the beginning of March, I got bored studying with Percy and decided to go look for other people.

"I'm going to go outside. I'm getting cabin fever," I said.

"Yeah, OK," Percy said, distracted by his studying and dreams of receiving enough N.E.W.T.s to put him in a good position at the Ministry.

I went out to the front steps and looked around the grounds. There were people sitting around on the grass near the lake. Mainly first and second years. The older students on the grounds were studying. I didn't want to do more of that.

I decided to go to the Quidditch pitch. Gryffindor was still in the running for the Quidditch Cup, and Oliver spent any free time he had trying to figure out how they were going to win it. I worried that he was neglecting his studies, but he assured me that he was studying more than I thought he was.

Sure enough, Oliver was flying idly around the goals on the other side of the field from where I'd come in. He seemed to be deep in though. I walked across the grass. He noticed me when I got a little past half way to him.

He flew over and landed right in front of me, smiling. "Hey," he said. "Something wrong?"

"No. I just got tired of memorizing Potions ingredients from potions we haven't done since we were First Years. How are your plans going?"

"We're going to win that Cup," Oliver said.

I nodded. "I hope you do."

"Why? You couldn't care less about Quidditch," Oliver said, walking with me towards the locker rooms.

"True, but I want Gryffindor to do well in everything, and I want you to do well, too. I know how much the Cup means to you."

He nodded.

"Don't worry. I have no doubts that you'll win it this year."

He loosened up again. "Thanks." We kept walking in silence for several seconds. "There's something I want to show you."

"OK. Where is it?" I asked.

"The locker room. Kind of, anyway. You'll see."

I'd never been in the locker rooms before. Gryffindor's was rather dull, but comfortable. Oliver walked up next to a chalkboard with some X's and O's drawn onto it. He pulled it out away from the wall on one side.

"It's through here," he said, motioning behind the chalkboard.

"Through where? The wall?" I asked.

He smiled. "Why do you look surprised? This is Hogwarts' Quidditch stadium, isn't it?"

"It's through the wall?" I asked again.

He nodded, turned, walked behind the chalkboard and disappeared.

I hurried over to look. I was feeling along the wall when his hand shot out and pulled me through. I hit another wall about two feet past the one I'd just gone through. It didn't hurt much, since right after pulling me through the wall, Oliver pushed me back a little.

"People have heart attacks because of things like that," I said under my breath.

"Sorry," Oliver said, shortly.

I looked up. I couldn't see anything.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"In between the outer wall and what everyone assumes is the outer wall."

Suddenly I felt very claustrophobic, and, of course, I said so.

"Yeah, that's the drawback about this whole thing," Oliver agreed. "It's worth it. Trust me."

I sighed. "God help me, but I do."

He laughed. "Just keep walking towards your left. You can probably walk normally, but it will make the space seem smaller. If you walk sideways, there's more room on each side of you."

"OK," I said, following his voice. It was pitch black in the little space. I reached out and found his arm, so I grabbed his sleeve.

"Nervous?" Oliver asked.

"I can't see you. This way, I won't run into you," I said.

"You won't run into me."

"Not this way, I won't," I agreed.

He laughed again. "Well, it's about a fifteen minute walk. Your arm is going to get tired like that."

"Do you want me to let go of your cloak, Oliver?" I asked.

"More or less," he said.

"Fine," I said, more harshly than I meant it. I took my hand away from his arm.

About a minute later, he took my hand. I jumped a little. "I don't want to leave you too far behind in here," Oliver said.

I smiled, but he couldn't see that.

We kept walking for about ten to fifteen minutes. I didn't like the narrow walkway much, but I was thinking more about where we were going and holding Oliver's hand. Oliver stopped suddenly, with a muffled sound of pain. He had run into something and I had run into him right after that.

"Sorry," I muttered.

"It's OK. We're there."

I looked around quickly. "I don't see anything," I said after a few seconds.

"Because we haven't gone inside yet."

I could tell from the change in the air that Oliver opened a door. He stepped trough and pulled my arm gently so that I would follow. I felt him go behind me and shut the door again, but it was still too dark to see anything.

"Dan Weasley brought me here the year before he died. Charlie had brought him here first."

"Where are we?" I asked, patiently.

"I'll show you. Lumos."

Oliver's wand lit up and he raised the beam of light towards the ceiling. Not that I could see the ceiling. Sparkling things were blocking the view. It took me a few moments to realize what they were. There were hundreds of Golden Snitches flying around.

"Oh my," I whispered. "It's… amazing."

"Every year, the team captain of the house that wins the Quidditch Cup releases the Snitch from that year into this room. Then he or she shakes the Headmaster's hand, then the Deputy Headmaster's hand, and then the head of his house's hand, and then the hands of the other three heads of the houses."

I smiled. "Is that written down somewhere?"

"Yes, in Hogwarts, A History, but Dan told me first."

I felt strange… sad and happy about being in a place that Dan considered important enough to share with others. Was it ironic that Oliver was showing it to me? Maybe a little.

"But why are they here? I mean… why do they need new ones every year?"

"Well, the Golden Snitches can be injured and need to be replaced, but mainly it's so the Snitches don't develop biases."

"What?" I asked, laughing a little.

"No one's sure why, but enough of certain types of charms and spells seem to make inanimate things… conscious, in some sense of the word. Golden Snitches have so much magic in them, they're almost alive. Other things seem to be like that, as well. Fred and George said that they used to have an enchanted car, and Ron Weasley swears up and down that the car saved Potter and him from death. Personally, I think he dreamt it, but a car becoming… aware of itself and others is possible."

I didn't know what to say. I had never heard of this theory or whatever it was.

"Hogwarts probably has this consciousness, too," Oliver added.

"You're saying that Hogwarts can think?"

"Kind of, but it may be more accurate to say that Hogwarts can feel and acts out of its feelings."

"So the Golden Snitches start to feel certain ways towards certain houses, and they impact the outcomes of the games unless they're replaced frequently."

"Exactly," Oliver said, sounding relieved that he didn't have to explain it another way.

"I don't know how I feel about living inside of something that's… kind of human."

"I wouldn't call any of these things almost human. Maybe they're better than humans, in many ways. They don't think. They don't have logic. They do what they feel like doing. They're more free than humans will ever be."

I was surprised.

"You think about this a lot, don't you?" I asked. I was watching the places Oliver's wand lit up. The room was plain. The walls were smooth, but were only made up of gray bricks. The walls made the Snitches look even more beautiful than they already were.

"Yes," I do," Oliver said distractedly.

"Why'd you bring me here?"

"I know that you don't care about Quidditch, and I wanted you to see it in a way that you wouldn't see as stupid. Quidditch is more than people flying around on brooms, trying to score points, or, in my case, trying to prevent people from scoring points. It's more than a sport. It's… an art. A lifestyle. An obsession. It's me. I've always been able to count on Quidditch."

"I don't hate Quidditch," I said. "I've cared about too many people who see Quidditch like you do to hate it."

"Dan?" Oliver asked, almost in a whisper.

"Dan, and all of the Weasleys, and you, and, well, most of my friends, not that I… wait." I turned to look at Oliver. I could barely see him in the small amount of light that was coming towards us. "Why'd you ask about Dan specifically?" I said, trying not to let any emotion come through.

"I… I could be wrong, but… I figured it out. I think."

"Did the girls tell you?"

"The girls? You mean, Joan and Cedar and—"

"Yes," I said.

"No. They know?"

"They know what?" I asked.

"That you… you and Dan… I think. I don't know for sure," Oliver said at last.

"You figured it out," I said, quietly, more to myself than to him.

"It took a dream about him. I mean, I dreamt that he was the Quidditch captain again, and you were dating him in the dream. When I woke up, I started thinking about some of the things you've said and… how you're still really upset sometimes."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Why on Earth should you be sorry?" he asked, more kindly than he'd ever talked to me before.

"I'm sorry that it was so obvious. I'm sorry for some of the things I said to you. I'm sorry that he died, and I'm sorry that I never recognized the fact that you cared about him, too."

"It wasn't obvious. I… I never—"

"Thought about the possibility?" I laughed a little under my breath. "Neither did I until… even after… it wasn't until he died that I thought about there being a possibility that we could have been together. He was too old at the time. I was too young. I don't know. There was the age difference that we knew people wouldn't understand, and the age difference made us feel uncomfortable, too."

Oliver didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry again. You don't want to know about—"

"I do, though," Oliver interrupted. "I do want to know," he said in that kind voice again.

I nodded, slowly. "OK. I don't know where to start now, though. I was just… rambling."

"Did he know how you felt?" Oliver asked.

"I didn't even know how I felt. I still don't know how I felt. He knew that I liked him as more than a friend, yes."

"Did he… I don’t want to pry. I feel too nosey."

"Don't. I think it helps to talk about him, and there aren't many people I can talk to about him."

"Percy?"

"I've never talked to Percy about Dan since he died. Percy doesn't know about Dan and I."

"You never told him?" Oliver asked.

"I didn't want to hurt Percy any more than he was already hurting. So don't worry about prying. I trust you. I also trust you enough not to use anything I say against any Weasley. Meaning Percy. OK?"

"I wouldn't—"

"I wouldn't tell you if I didn't know that. I just want to make sure."

"I won't tell Percy anything you say." Oliver wasn't moving his wand around the room much now, so I lit my own. "Did he… feel the same way?"

"I don't know. We didn't talk about us much. I wish we would have, now, but at the time… I figured there would be enough time for everything to resolve itself. I figured we'd figure everything out when school started again."

I told Oliver about what Dan and I would talk about. I told him about how we would argue over most things we started out talking about. But, eventually, I had to get to the part that I needed to talk about.

"And you were there when he had his accident," Oliver said, very carefully.

I nodded, deciding whether I really wanted to tell him what I'd been telling myself for three years.

"It was my fault," I said, quietly, slowly.

"What?" Oliver asked, standing up. We had been leaning against the wall by the door, both of us using our wands to look at the Snitches flying.

I looked over at Oliver. He was looking at me, almost like he was scared.

"I was leaving that morning. I wanted to say goodbye to him, without his family there. Do you understand? I wanted to be able to talk to him and kiss him goodbye, but I couldn't do that with the Weasleys bustling about, helping me get my things together at the last minute.

"I asked him to meet me out in the Quidditch field behind the Weasleys' house. We'd been spending time out there every day, anyway. I felt comfortable there.

"I was a few minutes late. I couldn't find one of my school books, and I was searching Ginny's room for it. I was a few minutes late…."

I'd spent four years trying not to think about that morning. I'd never told anyone the whole truth about what had happened and how I felt about it. After Oliver, I never told anyone else about it. I needed another person to know, though. I needed someone to understand.

"He way lying on the ground when I got there. I ran over… and… his hair was even redder than normal. From blood. And… I tried to wake him up as carefully as I could. I checked his breathing and his heart, and he was still alive. So… I sent up large flares and loud noises with my wand, which I had with me because I was leaving. I still don't know what spells I cast, but it worked. Mr. Weasley Apparated out onto the Quidditch pitch. He didn't ask me any questions… ever… he just made a stretcher appear and magicked Dan onto it.

"We ran back to the Burrow. We passed the rest of the Weasleys about halfway there. They followed us back. Mrs. Weasley… Mrs. Weasley… tried to stop the bleeding while Mr. Weasley tried to get help. I watched their clock. It shows where all of the Weasleys are. Dan's was spinning, slowly at first, and then faster and faster…. It couldn't find him. I don't really remember anything after that."

I put a hand over my mouth, trying to stop myself from crying, even though I knew that it was hopeless. Once my tears started flowing, I concentrated on saying the next part without letting any sobs escape.

"If I'd been on time, maybe there's had been enough time to save him. Or maybe he'd have never fallen at all. I shouldn't have asked him to come to begin with. I wanted ten minutes with him, alone, away from his family, and I ended up taking him away from his family forever," I said, failing my battle with my emotions miserably. I finally broke down, letting all of my weight fall against the wall.

"I… I shouldn't have brought this up. I knew… but I shouldn't have let my curiousity…."

"I didn't have to tell you," I said, composing myself enough to stand up without the wall. "It's not your fault."

"It's not yours either," he said, softly. "It wasn't your fault he fell. Accidents happen."

I wiped tears away from my face, still crying, although quieter now. "I know they do," I said, "but I made several circumstances that made the accident possible."

"But it was still an accident, Laura. I knew Dan very well, and I know that he would NEVER blame you for what happened."

"I've told myself that for years, but I still feel… so guilty," I said, bringing a hand up to my mouth again because I felt another wave of sobs coming.

And Oliver did what was probably the worst thing he could have done to try to stop me from crying. He stepped over and hugged me.

I buried half of my face in his shoulder and clutched his cloak, as any self-control and dignity I had left disappeared. I all but collapsed into sobs.

Oliver kept me up. He said that he thought I had probably put this off for too long. I didn't hear anything else he said, and I don't know if he cried or not.

Now that I've had truly enough time to reflect on everything, Oliver was right when he said that I had put off this crying for too long. I had cried more than my fair share of tears over the incident, but I had never let the feelings go while doing it.

And, honestly, it wasn't only guilt about Dan's death that was making me cry. The vast majority of it was. But I felt guilty about Dan's life, too. I felt guilty that while I had loved Dan, I had never fallen in love with him. I felt guilty that I had never told Dan that I loved him when he could hear me. I was considering telling him the morning he died, but I probably wouldn't have. I only told him when he was unconscious, and that is something that I never told anyone, not even Oliver. And despite all of this that was racking me with guilt, what made me feel the most like a bad person was that this hug from Oliver meant more to me than any kiss from Dan had.

After what seemed like forever, I finally got enough control that I was barely crying anymore. I let go of Oliver's cloak and tried to brush out any wrinkles there have been that I couldn't see in the dark. I pulled back a little, self-consciously, and patted my pockets, feeling for my wand.

Oliver bent down and picked up my wand. I hadn't remembered dropping it. He handed it over to me.

I took it carefully. "Lumos." I looked around us to find the Golden Snitches hovering around us. I stepped back towards the wall and gasped a little. The Snitches scattered quickly.

"See? I told you they can feel," Oliver said quietly.

I nodded.

The two of us stood looking at the Snitches for a few minutes in an uncomfortable silence.

"I'm—"

"Don't say you're sorry again," Oliver said, almost strictly.

I almost started crying again. "Then, thank you… you know… for being there, I guess," I said, quietly, my face burning. "I know… I know you lost him, too, Oliver."

"Not like you—"

"Exactly like I did," I said. "He cared about you."

"I know. He… was a good captain. I try to be like him, but I can't. I don't have the same… I don't even know what he had that I can't seem to get."

"I'm sure you're a good captain, too, Oliver."

"We haven't won that Cup yet while I've been captain."

"Your Seeker has a lot to do with that."

"Potter's why we've won most of our games."

"You taught him."

"He didn't need me to teach him. He's a natural. I never knew what a natural was until I saw that kid fly."

"Then you let him do his own thing. You let him learn on his own. That can be just as hard as teaching."

Oliver laughed. "You're trying to make me feel better."

I smiled. "I owe you that much, don't I?"

"No," he said, seriously.

"Well, you may have admired Dan, but he returned that admiration."

"Don't make up—"

"I would never lie about the things that Dan told me," I said. "He told me he was preparing you to be the next captain, after he graduated. He said he saw himself as that captain in between Charlie Weasley and Oliver Wood."

"The Gryffindor Quidditch team would never have seen him like that," Oliver said.

"I hope not, but what does it matter, if that's how he saw you?"

Oliver didn't say anything.

I smiled at him. I waited a minute so he could let that sink in. "He told me about your pre-match rituals."

"He didn't," Oliver said, snapping back into reality.

I laughed and rubbed my eyes, trying to loosen them up from the tears. "Honestly, I think it's cute."

"He told you?" Oliver asked.

"You really sit in a room and talk to your dad's picture?"

"Oh, God, he did tell you," Oliver groaned.

"And then you put on your Quidditch robes inside out, turn around three times saying 'Smoking is silly, drinking's a sin, I don't do either, so, God, let us win.' Then you turn your robes back the way they're supposed to be, put them on, lay your broom on the ground and jump over it."

By this time Oliver was laughing and blushing so much I could see his cheeks turn red in the dim light. "Tell me you didn't tell anyone else."

"Percy," I admitted.

He groaned. "That means the whole school must know."

"Who would Percy tell?" I asked. "That wasn't very nice," I scolded myself.

Oliver laughed a little more genuinely. "Did Dan ever tell you his pre-match rituals?"

"I asked him to but he wouldn't."

"He would go around the locker room, touching the number of every locker in there. Then he would go to his own locker, open it and write down the name of a girl…." He stopped.

"Go on. I don't mind," I said sincerely.

"You're sure?"

"Of course I'm sure."

"I don't… if it will hurt you—"

"Don't worry. I only break down talking about his death, not his life."

Oliver nodded. After a few seconds, he said, "He respected you."

I smiled. "I know he respected me, Oliver."

"No, I mean… he gave respect to everyone, but certain people he respected."

"I don't understand."

"Isn't there someone whom you would never even dream of being rude to because you look up to them, in some way? It's different than using your manners. It's respect.

"There's one thing he said that I can remember perfectly, word-for-word. It was about you. And me, but the reason I remember it is because I thought he was wrong. I respected him like he respected you, Laura, and him being wrong was something I never forgot. It lowered my opinion of him. He went from a superhero to a hero… but being a hero is better.

"It was during my third year. I still didn't really have good friends. I was hanging around with the other third years, but they weren't my friends yet. Anyway, after a practice one night, I said something about you that wasn't very nice. I don't remember what I said. Only what he said.

"He said, 'That girl's loyalty is so strong, she couldn't support you both. It would have been unloyal to both of you. So she chose Percy. Percy needed her more than you did, Wood. Now, either you can prove Laura right, and be strong, like she knows you are, or you can keep feeling sorry for yourself.'"

I didn't say anything. That's how Daniel saw what I did to Oliver by ditching him for Percy? Is that how it was? No, not really how it was. But Dan did see the best in people.

"That was the only time that Dan ever said something to me that made me want to cry. I said, 'I thought Hufflepuffs were supposed to be loyal. A Gryffindor would stand up for both of her friends,' under my breath."

I looked away from him.

"And Dan laughed."

"What?" I asked, looking back at him, a little angrily.

Oliver was smiling, which only made me angrier. I felt like I was being attacked, which, maybe in some ways I was, but Oliver wasn't doing the attacking. I was.

"Yeah, Dan laughed at me. 'Is that how you see it?' he asked. I responded that it was. He shook his head, still smiling, and said, 'Then were you ever really her friend, or a friend of her friend?' When I didn't answer, he said, 'Because if you really were her friend, then, yes, your comment would be deserved, but I don't think you were.'

"I asked him why he didn't think so, and how he would know anyway. He said, 'Because if you earn her loyalty, you'll never lose it, Wood.'"

I was crying again, silently, still not looking at Oliver.

"He really said all of that?" I asked.

"Yeah, he really said all of that."

"He was wrong," I said.

"No he wasn't. We never got to be friends in our own right. We were too worried about being Percy's friend to ever become good friends ourselves. We may have been more than acquaintances, but we weren't as good of friends with each other as we were with Percy. Dan was right."

I turned to look Oliver in the eyes, not caring if he saw my tears, now. Hell, what did it matter after the scene I'd made earlier?

"I remember being friends."

"Really? Really friends?" he asked.

I thought for a few seconds. I remembered being around Percy and Oliver all of the time. I remembered feeling a little left out because I was a girl. Everything I remembered about Oliver from that time did have to do with Percy, although the same couldn't be said for Percy. I remembered things about Percy that Oliver had nothing to do with.

"Maybe not," I said, slowly. "But that's no excuse for taking Percy's side automatically."

Now it was Oliver's turn to think. After a few more seconds, he shook his head. "No, but it does make us even because I probably would have done the same thing you did."

I smiled a little. "I'm not sure how much logic is behind that, because you didn't do the same thing to me, but… Oliver, the truth is that I don't really care anymore. I regret everything that happened, and I wish that Percy and you were friends again, but… it doesn't matter. Unlike five years ago, I do have you and Percy as friends now."

Oliver smiled. "Are you happy now?" he asked, not in a sarcastic or angry way, but sincerely.

"What?" I asked.

"That day in the Forbidden Forest, you didn't think things had turned out well, but do you now?"

"I think they turned out how they turned out. Could everything have turned out better? Undoubtedly. But I am happy now."

"Good."

"Are you?" I asked.

He thought a few seconds before laughing. "I will be if Gryffindor wins the Quidditch Cup."

I smiled. "And if not?"

"If not? We're going to win," Oliver said.

I smiled a little more. "Of course you are, but humor me. If not?"

"If not? If we don't win the Quidditch Cup… I have to win that cup, Laura."

"Why?" I asked, calmly.

"Because Quidditch is who I am."

"We've had this conversation. You aren't Quidditch. You're much more than this sport, no matter how you feel about it."

"I see myself as Quidditch. It's all I've ever been good at. It's how people see me. If I lose that… if I lose the person I see as me…."

"You lose yourself?"

"I guess."

"You can still have Quidditch without winning the Cup."

"That Cup is all I've ever wanted." He paused. "Almost all I've ever wanted."

"What else do you want?"

He smiled. "Stupid things."

"What?"

"A crystal ball."

I laughed. "What on Earth for?"

"Just to have one. They're… you can see things in them."

"Only if there's something on the other side of the crystal ball, and you're seeing the reflections."

He laughed. "Maybe, but I'd still like to have one."

"What else do you want?"

"My own Quidditch pitch. A real one, I mean. Like this place. And I want a dog."

"A dog?" I asked.

"Yes. My parents never let me have one because I'm at school most of the year, but after we all graduate, I'm getting a dog."

"You want a dog, a crystal ball, a Quidditch stadium and the Quidditch Cup. Sounds fair enough."

"I think it's reasonable. Except for the Quidditch stadium, maybe. I want one more thing, though."

"Yes?" I asked.

"Dinner. It must be time for dinner by now."

"You're right!" I said. I was a little hungry, but I'd completely forgotten about the time. "Do we go back the say we came, or—"

"No. We can't get back through that wall in the locker room. Follow me," Oliver said, reaching out and taking my hand again, even though we had wandlight now.

He walked straight across the room and through a wall with me right behind him. We ended up outside of the Quidditch stadium.

"I'm assuming we can't get in that way because that would have been a lot easier," I said.

Oliver tapped the solid wall a couple of times to answer my question. He let go of my hand and we started towards Hogwarts. I figured we were going to be a little late for dinner, but there was no punishment for that.

"What do you want after we graduate?" Oliver asked, when we were about halfway to the castle.

"I just want to be happy. Whatever it takes to be happy, I guess I want."

Oliver didn't say anything.

"That and I want a Ken doll. I had way too many Barbies but no Kens. It was hard to play house with no Kens… I just need a Ken doll to sit in the basement with the Barbies."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Oliver said, laughing.

I spent the rest of the walk into the castle explaining about Muggle toys. He seemed more interested in dolls than I thought he would be.

When we got to the Great Hall, I went to sit with Percy, like I did every evening. He was almost done eating.

"Where were you?" he asked.

"Quidditch stadium," I answered, already starting to serve myself.

"With Wood?"

"Yes."

"The whole time?"

"Just about."

"Alone?" he asked.

"No, I said I was with—"

"Alone with Wood?"

"Yes."

"That's been hours," he said.

"So?"

"What will people think?" he scolded.

I rolled my eyes. "Percy, think of all of the hours I've been alone with you. What do people think about that?"

Percy blushed a little. "That's different," he said, weakly.

"Why?"

"Because everyone knows we're only friends," he said.

"And everyone knows Oliver and I are friends. As I recall, it was big news for about half of a day, which is much more than enough time for everyone in the building to hear about it."

"And for the second half of that day, people were wondering whether it was anything more. Undoubtedly being alone for hours would only support those rumors."

"What difference does it make, Percy? He's my friend, but I can't be around him because the school may think something is going on? Or I can't be around him because you think something is going on?"

"I didn't say either one of those things. I'm just letting you know how it looks."

"There's nothing going on," I said, sighing.

Percy didn't say anything for a few moments. He only stared at me before leaving.



[Author's Note: That chapter was much shorter than the last one, but there was a lot of information disclosed in this chapter, so I wanted to keep it short. This is a chapter where I wanted to be more subtle than to just come out and say certain things. Like in the first chapter, I was vague on purpose, but please let me know if I was too vague.

Feedback on the Golden Snitch/ Ford Anglia/ Hogwarts theory (and anything else) is also more than welcome. I do think that this might be what is behind the Ford Anglia's "personality" (not necessarily Hogwarts or the Golden Snitches, though I think that there's a strong case for Hogwarts) in the real books. This would be important to the real books (not this story) because it implies that Hogwarts might be able to "feel" an alliance with one side if the Second War were to have a battle at Hogwarts. I think it's obvious that Hogwarts would "choose" Dumbledore's side.

And the always promised cliffhanger… coming up in Chapter 7: While Oliver is busy winning the Quidditch Cup (There's no cliffhanger there, obviously. Everyone knows they win.), Laura is finally willing to be honest with herself.]

Chapter 8: Quidditch Cup

The next few days were normal. I worried a little that what I had told Oliver would change how he treated me but it didn't. However, Percy and Oliver started bickering again, perhaps more than they did before Oliver said he would stop.

I just let them go at it. I knew that N.E.W.T.s were closer than I realized, and I was focusing on doing well on them, so I could get a good job. I wanted to work for The Daily Prophet and competition over positions there was fierce.

About five days after Oliver had shown me the Snitches, I was standing in that small hallway that doesn't go anywhere, near the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. I was looking out over the lake, barely even thinking.

"You're in my spot."

I turned to see Oliver smiling a few feet away.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'll leave."

"No. I was only kidding." He walked up next to me to look out over the lake as well. "It's a great view, isn't it?"

"Yes," I said, turning back towards the window. "I can't believe I never really took the time to look out of these windows in the past seven years."

Oliver didn't say anything.

I looked up at him. He appeared calm as he looked out over Hogwarts' grounds.

"What?" he asked after a minute, not turning from the window.

"I don't know," I answered honestly.

He smiled a little.

"What?" I asked.

"I don't know either," he answered, laughing.

I looked out the window and smiled.

Oliver put his hand on the windowsill next to mine.

I looked down and then up into his face again.

"What?" he asked, laughing again and moving his hand away.

I didn't answer. I just looked back out the window. After a few minutes, I asked, "Have we ever talked about anything… good?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, we always either talk about that fight or something bad that happened after the fight. Have we ever talked about something good?"

"I don't know." He thought for a minute. "We've talked about being friends."

"And about how we never thought that would happened because of the fight," I said.

"Isn't it good that we can talk about bad things?"

"Yes," I answered. "But can we talk about good things? That's the true test of friendship, isn't it? Anyone can complain."

"We've talked about good things with the other Seventh Years."

"Yes."

"You're doubting our friendship, or—" Oliver started, looking a little hurt.

"No," I interrupted.

"Then what?"

"I just want to hear about good things in your life, too, is all."

He sighed.

"I'm getting too girly-emotional on you."

He laughed. "Maybe a little, but I'll let you know when it gets annoying."

"Then why did you sigh?"

"Because I'm not sure if I have many happy things to tell you about."

I furrowed my brow, frowning. "That's what I was afraid of."

After a few seconds, he started talking. "My parents. They're the constant happy thing in my life. Especially my dad. I love Mum and everything, but she's more protective. That's why I talk to my Dad. He'll listen and tell me what he honestly thinks. I'm happy when I'm talking to him."

I smiled and nodded. "And what did he honestly think about you becoming friends with me?"

"Doesn't that qualify as a topic under the fight?" Oliver asked, smiling tauntingly.

"Yes," I admitted. "OK. The constant happy thing in my life is… are my parents, too. I don't tell them everything, by any means, but I do like talking to them. They're very supportive, I guess. Most of the time."

There was a short silence.

"The Quidditch match is tomorrow," Oliver said.

"I know. I just didn't want to bring it up if you didn't want to talk about it," I admitted.

"I think we can win."

"I know you can."

I looked up at him and he looked down, smiling.

"You aren't just saying that," he said.

"Of course not. Your team can win. It's not like you have to worry about Malfoy catching the Snitch. Like you've been telling us for weeks, you only have to worry about Harry catching the Snitch too soon."

Oliver shook his head. "No. He won't. I've pounded that into his head, at least."

"You didn't threaten the poor kid, did you?"

"No, not that my threats should mean anything to him. I think he's still terrified that a dementor will come into the stadium, even though Professor Dumbledore gave me his word that that would not happen."

"Then you've nothing to worry about," I said.

"I've said that many times that I shouldn't have."

"But this time I'm saying it."

Oliver brought his hand up towards my face, but before reaching it, brought his hand down to my arm and brushed at the sleeve of my cloak a few times.

"You asked before if I would be happy if we lost the match tomorrow, and I've thought a lot about it," Oliver said.

"And will you be happy?" I asked.

"As long as I have my friends and family, I will be happy," he said.

I nodded. "I'm glad."

"Laura?"

"Yes?"

"Lately you've been a big part of that. I mean… you've become a good friend of mine, I think and…."

"And now that we are friends, we always will be," I said. I smiled. "I promise."

He smiled and then nodded. He looked out of the window a few seconds before taking a step away from the window. "I'm going to go back to the Common Room."

"OK," I said. "I'm going to stay here a while longer."

Oliver left me alone to think. And in the next half hour I knew what it was when I was looking at Oliver. I admitted to myself that I had, somehow, fallen for the person I'd hated only months before.

When I went back into the Common Room, everyone except Oliver was trying to forget about the match the next day. I watched Fred and George goof around while Oliver sat alone, moving figures of Quidditch players around a model of the Quidditch stadium.

The next morning, I ate breakfast with Percy. We went out to the stadium together to get seats in the very front. They weren't the best seats in the stadium, but I wanted to be near the stairs.

The players eventually came out. I took out my omnioculars to look at the players faces. They all looked extremely nervous. I couldn't blame them. I was nervous, too. Oliver and Flint shook hands and the match began.

I must say that I was a good fan for the first time in years. I usually just watched and clapped a few times during a match. During this match, I was chewing my fingernails when Slytherin was taking a penalty shot and jumping up and down when Oliver stopped them. I was hugging everyone around when Gryffindor pulled far enough ahead in points that Harry could catch the Snitch. I was yelling obscenities at the top of my lungs whenever Slytherin cheated. And when Gryffindor won I cheered even louder than I had yelled.

I immediately started heading for the stairs to congratulate the players. The winning team's house always stormed the field after the match. I saw Oliver hugging Harry before heading into the stairway. By the time I reached the bottom, all of the players were in a group hug on the ground. I was one of the first people to reach the team. I knew I had to be if I was going to be able to congratulate Oliver, as the whole team was undoubtedly going to be swarmed by people for hours.

The group hug was breaking up to welcome friends and classmates into the circle. Oliver turned away from them, and I could see him crying out of pure joy. I laughed before coming into his already open arms.

I squeezed him tightly.

"You won! Oliver, you won the Cup!" I yelled into his ear, starting to get teary-eyed myself.

Oliver lifted me off the ground and spun around in a circle quickly. "Thanks in part to you! Thank you," he said, setting me down again.

I barely had time to look into his eyes before he was swept up into a crowd of well-wishers. Oliver looked back once before being lifted up on people's shoulders. I joined the crowd as Gryffindor carried its team to Dumbledore, who gave Wood the Cup. Oliver quickly passed it over to Harry.

By now, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were on the field as well, celebrating the downfall of Slytherin. A Second or Third Year from one of the houses came up and hugged me. Normally I'd have been freaked out, but strangers were hugging all over the field, so I hugged her back, laughing.

"Tell Oliver Wood congratulations," she said, letting go of me.

"OK, I will," I said, nodding.

"And tell him, if it doesn't work out with you, I'm available," she said, laughing.

"What?" I asked.

"I saw you congratulate him. It's obvious," she said, moving to a different part of the mob.

So, I spent the slow trip back up to Gryffindor's common room worrying about how many people had figured out that I didn't only like Oliver as a friend. I worried whether someone had told him. I worried whether it had just become obvious and that some other girl would go after him before I had a chance to tell him… tell him? Was I kidding? Tell him that I thought I was falling in love with him? And scare him away? No, tell him that I wanted to try to be more than friends because I liked him. But if it was obvious, maybe he already knew. Maybe he was purposely ignoring any signs I was giving him, whatever those signs were.

Maybes such as these continued to float through my head for about an hour, when I realized that I was repeating most of them, and it was pointless consciously brewing over them. So I thoroughly joined Gryffindor's festivities. Fred and George had gotten snacks out of the kitchen, and people were lighting off gold and red fireworks, which lingered for a long time in the air.

Oliver was the center of the party and was enjoying it. I didn't like being near the center of things, as that's usually where things go wrong, so I stayed back with Joan, who was like me in that sense.

"I'm so proud of him," she said.

"Yes," I agreed, smiling and looking over towards where I knew he was.

"He needed that win."

"Yes."

"So, what does he need now?" Joan asked.

I looked over at her, confused. "What?"

"Surely he can't only have needed that win. What does he need now?"

I shrugged and smiled as much as I could. "I don't know. A crystal ball?"

She laughed. "Isn't it the best friend's job to know what he needs?"

"I'm not his best—"

"Who's your best friend?" Joan interrupted. "Follow me," she added.

We went over to a window and sat down on the sill, facing the party.

"So, who's your best friend?" she repeated.

"Perc…y," I said. I scrunched up my brow, thinking about the answer that had come to my lips automatically for years. Was it still true? "I don't know."

"If it isn't Percy, then who is it?"

"Oliver," I said, slowly. "Is that bad?"

"What?" Joan asked, her turn to be surprised by a question.

"I mean, does it say something bad about me that someone who I didn't like is now my best friend? Does that say something about how few friends I have?"

Joan thought a few seconds. "No, it doesn't. You have enough friends, Laura, for it not to be bad. One friend is enough for it not to be bad. I think it's good. I've enjoyed watching the two of you get used to being friends. It was… exciting, I think."

I laughed. "Exciting? It was rather uneventful."

"As far as exciting events happening, it was uneventful, yes. But it was exciting to see you two make up and forget about the past. I wanted that to happen for a long time."

"Why?" I asked, honestly more curious than I'd been in a while.

"Because he always needed you. Or Percy."

I looked away. "Don't make me feel guilty again, please. Every time… it seems like the fight and the years after it are all we ever talk about when we're talking about the two of us."

"What else would you talk about while talking about the two of you? Like it or not, it happened, and like it or not, neither one of you will ever be able to forget about it. Maybe talking about it makes it less important."

"How so?"

"You talk about everything in the past tense?"

"Yes."

"Well, then you're both acknowledging that it's done. I guess you could say… you're moving on."

I looked at her a little skeptically.

She ignored the look. "Do you know what he needs?" Joan asked again.

I shook my head again. "No, I don't. I know… now… he has everything that he needs."

Joan smiled. "I think he does, too. Almost."

"What else does he need, then? It's the best friend's job to know."

"Are you taking on that responsibility?" Joan asked.

"Taking on that responsibility? I'm hoping I've earned it and that he's given it to me."

Joan smiled broadly. "That was very deep, Laura. Pretty, I think."

I laughed. "Then I take it back."

"Can I be honest?" Joan asked.

"Sure."

"You don't want to be his best friend, do you?"

My smile faltered a little. "That's a question, not being honest."

"But I already know the answer."

"It is obvious," I said, frowning now.

"Obvious?"

"A twelve-year-old girl I don't even know told me it was obvious," I said. "How embarrassing."

"I don't see how it could be obvious that you like him. When did you figure it out?"

"I don't know. I don't want to talk about this."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know."

"OK. Just let me say a few things, OK?"

"If I said no, it wouldn't stop you," I said.

Joan laughed. "No, it wouldn't."

"Get it over with, then."

"First off, I want you to tell him how you feel because I think it will turn out in a way good for you both, and I like watching your story."

I didn't say anything in her pause.

"Secondly—"

"Hey, girls, you're missing out on the fun."

Joan and I spun in towards the room quickly.

"Hello, Oliver," Joan said, obviously trying to be nonchalant.

Oliver nodded a little, looking slightly worried. "You two aren't conspiring against me or anything, are you?"

I smiled. "We were only talking."

"Hey, Oliver, good job!" Joan said.

"Thanks," Oliver said, beaming with pride.

"We're proud of you," she added.

I nodded my agreement.

Oliver laughed. "Well, I can be happy now, Laura."

"I'm glad."

A sixth year girl came up behind Oliver and hooked her arm in his, taking his hand. "Oliver. I lost you for a moment."

I recognized her. Her name was Ashley Putnum. She was popular and pretty. My smile dissolved quickly.

"Just talking to my friends," Oliver said, smiling down at her.

"Oh," Ashley said, with a little distaste. "Let's go back to the party."

"Yeah," Oliver said. He looked at Joan and me and smiled slightly. "I'll talk to you later, OK, girls?"

Joan and I nodded and Ashley pulled Oliver away.

"I guess he still only needs me as a friend, huh?" I asked, quietly.

Joan didn't answer immediately. "He'll always need us as his friends," she said, finally.

"And we'll always be his friends," I said.

"At least that, yes. Don't worry about her, Laura. I know him. She's not his type."

"Isn't she? The Quidditch captain and the popular Sixth Year?"

"Why not the two best friends?"

"Joan, you don't have to try to make me feel better. I have no claim on him. And I've been the friend to boys for years. I got used to that right away. I chose it."

Joan sighed. "How do you know what Oliver wants?"

I motioned towards the group of celebrators. "I found it fairly obvious."

"I didn't. I see how he looks at you."

I shook my head. "I care enough about him to be his friend, no matter what."

"And that's why he'll pick you."

"Pick me? I don't need him to pick me."

"Just wait. I've never been wrong about Oliver. Just wait." Joan got up and walked into the crowd.

I didn't feel much like celebrating. I went upstairs to try to escape the noise. Luckily, I was tired enough that I didn't need to pout over Oliver. I feel asleep fairly easily.

[Author's Note: Short chapter. My apologizes. It was a natural chapter break.

Thank you to all of the people who have been reading this sorry, and especially to those of you who have reviewed. For those of you who have written your own stories, you know how encouraging good feedback (or feedback at all) can be. :)

Coming up in the next chapter: Oliver and Percy finally start to take steps to end the five-year long fight. But how long will their efforts really last? And how will Laura deal with keeping her feelings to herself?]

Chapter 9: Gryffindors

The next morning I felt a little better. I'd gotten a lot more sleep than some people, and at least a little more sleep than most people. Also, Gryffindor had calmed down considerably. Everyone was still happy, but at least I was now able to fake that I was as happy as they were.

I had slept in longer than normal, but it was a Sunday, so it didn't really matter. I got up, took a shower and got dressed before walking down to the Great Hall. Percy was in our normal place, so I joined him.

"Morning," he said, looking up and smiling a little.

"Morning," I said.

"You don't look so good," Percy said.

I shrugged a little. "I feel fine."

"Something wrong?"

"No," I lied. I smiled. "It's just that the last big game is over. We're almost out of Hogwarts." I decided not to feel bad about making up things because telling Percy what was really bothering me probably would have given him a stroke.

"Yeah, we're really growing up," Percy said. "But there's a lot to look forward to. Like work."

I laughed. "Percy, only you would look forward to work."

Percy smiled. He was used to my banter on his work ethics.

"There are other things to look forward to. Like having a family, I guess," Percy tried.

"That makes work sound appealing," I muttered.

Percy laughed. "I agree. Oh, God."

"What?" I asked, turning around to see what he was looking at.

Oliver had walked up behind me. "Hey, I didn't see you again last night," he said, ignoring Percy.

"I went upstairs. I was tired," I said emotionlessly.

Oliver nodded. "Are you OK?"

"That's what I asked her," Percy said.

"I told you that I'm only a little sad about graduation."

Oliver nodded again. "OK. You're sure?"

"I think I would know," I muttered.

"I know you would know. I know you may not tell me the truth, as well," Oliver said, smiling. "Can I talk to you later?"

I shrugged and nodded. "Yeah."

"OK. See you later, then. Later, Percy," Oliver said, nodding at him.

Percy nodded back. "Congratulations on the win, by the way," he said quickly.

Oliver turned back towards us. "Thanks," he said, a little defensively.

"It wasn't very manly to bawl like a baby, though, was it?" Percy asked, smirking a little.

"I saw you jumping up and down like a little school girl," Oliver said, smiling back.

Percy fought back a real smile.

"Thank Charlie for fixing my broom," Oliver said.

Percy nodded.

I was completely in shock. Percy and Oliver being civil? To each other? I was dreaming. I was surely dreaming.

"Right… well… see you," Oliver said, starting to walk away.

"When you're so close to making up?" I blurted out. "I mean… a couple of apologizes and—"

"Don't push it," Percy interrupted.

Oliver continued to walk away.

I sighed. "I guess I should take what I can get from the two of you."

"I guess."

"Even though you would both be happier if you forgave each other… not liked each other again, necessarily, but forgave each other. I want you both to… be happy."

I stood up.

"What?" Percy asked.

I shook my head. "I just realized something. It's nothing."

"You realized you want us both to be happy?"

"Kind of. I'm not really hungry, and I have a lot of studying to do for that Transfiguration test tomorrow. I'll see you later, OK, Perce?"

"Yeah," Percy said, shaking his head a little. "Later."

I went upstairs and I did study. A few hours later, I ate lunch with Oliver and Company.

"So, where's Ashley?" Adam asked when we were almost done eating.

Oliver shrugged. "With her friends, I'm assuming."

"And you aren't with her?" Adam asked.

"Obviously not, as I'm sitting here with you."

"What was up with Ashley and you, anyway?" Joan asked, looking at me.

"Nothing," Oliver said, shrugging a little. "We were just hanging out last night."

"That's it?" Joan asked, smiling.

Oliver laughed. "Yeah, that's it. She wanted to be seen with the captain of the winning team, and it's not as if there was any reason to decline to just play along. Why?"

"Just wondering," Joan said.

I was in a much better mood after that conversation, although I felt stupid for worrying about it. But I did learn one thing from the little ordeal. There were only a few months left before school was over, and other people were interested in Oliver. I needed to let him know how I felt. Not that I was looking forward to doing so.

That afternoon all of the Seventh Years were sitting around the common room, studying for this, that and the other. And for N.E.W.T.s. I was tired of studying, or pretending to study at any rate. I got up and walked over to Oliver.

"You said you wanted to talk?" I asked.

Oliver looked up from his Transfiguration book. "What?"

I smiled. "You said you wanted to talk?" I repeated.

Oliver nodded, and then looked down at his book again. "Yeah, but I don't really remember about what right now."

"Oh, OK," I said, turning to go.

"Although, whatever it is, it's preventing me from really studying," Oliver said.

I turned back to him.

"Maybe it will come to me. Want to go for a walk?"

I nodded.

Oliver and I walked out of the common room and started walking towards the Great Hall.

"I know I've told you this, but I'm really happy for your win," I said.

"I know you are. That's what I wanted to talk to you about," he said.

"You remembered quickly, then," I said, narrowing my eyes suspiciously.

He wasn't looking. "Yeah. I wanted to thank you."

"For what?"

"Just for being supportive, even before we were friends. But especially recently. If I had anything at all to do with our win, which I believe I did, then you… had something to do with our win, too."

"If I had something to do with your win, then you're welcome," I said, smiling. "Indirectly, it's Quidditch that I wanted to talk to you about."

"You want to talk about Quidditch?" Oliver asked.

"I said 'indirectly'. I don't know enough about Quidditch to talk with you about it."

"All right. What do you want to talk about?" Oliver asked, opening the big oak doors and letting me step through before following.

"Me," I said. "And you," I added quickly.

Oliver laughed. We had walked down the stairs and were heading towards the lake before he responded. "You and me… us?"

"You and me… us… whatever," I said quickly, blushing.

"Are you breaking up with me?" Oliver asked, laughing.

I smiled. "Maybe tomorrow."

"I'm sorry. Go ahead."

"I know what I need to be happy now. I just figured it out this morning. I mean, I think I've known for a while, but I understood this morning."

"What happened this morning?" Oliver asked.

"You talked to Percy. Without fighting."

Oliver sighed. "Laura, if you need Percy and I to make up for you to be happy, then—"

"No, that's not it," I said.

Oliver sighed again, more out of relief this time. "Thank God, because I was going to say, if that's what you need to be happy, then… I would apologize to him."

I stared at him.

"But it's not, so I don't have to," Oliver said as fast as he could.

"No, you don't have to," I agreed. "Even though I think it would make all of us happier, you don't have to apologize to Percy."

"Please don't try the guilt thing."

"I wasn't."

"You were."

"Was it working?"

"A little."

I laughed. "I'm sorry."

We had reached the lake. Oliver sat down on a big flat rock that was a few feet away from the lake. I recognized it as the same rock that I had climbed onto after Oliver had pushed me into the lake a few months before. I sat down next to him and we looked out over the water.

"What do you need to be happy?" Oliver asked.

"I need you and Percy to be happy," I said, softly.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Oliver turn his head to look at me.

"That's why what I wanted to talk to you about was indirectly linked to Quidditch. If winning the Quidditch Cup was what you needed to be happy, then I needed you to win that Cup for me to be happy."

"Why?"

"I… care about both of you, first of all. You're my two best friends, Oliver," I said, looking at him. He was facing the lake again.

"And… if you're both happy… then I didn't do anything to make it so you couldn't be happy. Do you understand? If you're both happy, then it's OK for me to be happy."

Oliver looked at me again. "It has always been OK for you to be happy, and it will never be your fault if one of us isn't. You've been a good friend to both of us. Laura… never let what happened between the three of us years ago stop you from being happy. It wasn't worth anything and certainly not your unhappiness."

I nodded. That was all I could trust myself to do without crying.

"You're sure you don't need me to apologize to Percy?"

"If there's anything I've ever needed you to do, you just did it," I said, confident that I could hold back the tears entering my eyes.

He smiled. "And you can concentrate on what you're studying now?"

I smiled back. "Who said I was having trouble studying?"

"It's hard to study when you keep looking up from your notes at me."

I stopped smiling.

Oliver slid off the rock and looked out over the water for a few seconds before turning back towards me. He held out his hand.

I took it and slid down the rock to stand in front of him.

We stood there, hand in hand, looking at each other for a few seconds before he smiled, slowly.

"You said we were Gryffindors because we can face life bravely?"

"Yes."

Oliver laughed a little to himself. "That's a hard thing to do," he said, again about half to himself.

"Do you remember when we were working on that Transfiguration project and you made the first attempt to be my friend and I shot you down…. You said you were what life was facing me against?" he asked.

"Yes?" I asked, getting a little nervous.

"That wasn't easy for you, was it?" he asked.

"What wasn't?"

"Asking me to forgive you and to be your friend."

I could feel myself blushing. "No… it wasn't easy."

"But you did it anyway."

"Yes."

"How?" he asked.

I smiled a little. "I didn't mean to…. Not really. I just… told myself that's what I needed to do and did it before I could stop myself."

"And if it would have backfired?"

"It did backfire," I said, smiling a little more.

"Not in the long run."

"In the long run? In the long run my pride is still hurting… and in the long run it was worth it."

He smiled.

"Why? Oliver, you're starting to scare me a bit. Are you breaking up with ME?" I asked, trying to smile.

"Maybe tomorrow," he said, leaning down slightly and squeezing my hand that he was still holding.

I saw everything in slow motion. I could see him step closer and could see him put his other hand lightly on my waist. I could see him bend down to where our faces were at the same level. I saw his eyes close and closed my own.

The kiss ended more quickly than it began, but time was going at its regular speed again. I opened my eyes. Oliver had taken his hand off my waist, but his other hand was still grasping mine.

And there was another awkward stare-off, but this time I could only stand it for a few seconds.

"Something's wrong," I said.

"I'm waiting for that to backfire."

I smiled. "What?"

"I'm waiting for you to shoot me down. I mean… that'd be fair."

"Oliver, wouldn't I have taken my hand back by now if I was going to shoot you down?"

Oliver dropped my hand, starting to blush.

"Right… sorry."

I laughed. "I don't think you understood me," I said, blushing a little as well.

Oliver raised one of his eyebrows.

I sighed. "I… I mean… well…." I smiled and looked down at the ground. I couldn't tell him I loved him because I was still afraid that that would scare him (and me). And I couldn't tell him I liked him liked him because that would sound stupid. Instead, I reached out and took his hand in mine.

He smiled, bent down and kissed me again. This time he didn't pull away to get my reaction. His hand ended up resting barely on my waist again, and my hand ended up on his upper arm.

Oliver started laughing and I pulled back, frowning.

"You're about to hurt my feelings," I said seriously.

He shook his head. "It's just our position. Looks like we're dancing."

I smiled and took my hand off his arm. I just looked at him for a minute.

"Yes?" he asked, eventually.

"What time is it?" I asked casually.

Oliver laughed. "You're going to hurt my feelings, next."

"No. Percy's," I said, forcing a laugh.

Oliver raised his eyebrows. "He… likes you?"

"Is it that hard?"

"That isn't what I meant."

"I was kidding. No, Percy acts too much like he's my brother for him to like me. But he practically hates you."

"Thanks for buttering that up for me."

"I don't butter things up well."

"Maybe Percy already knows…."

I groaned. "I hope not."

Oliver laughed. "You don't have to tell him."

I shook my head. "Not telling Percy things like this doesn't end well. Everyone else can just figure it out for themselves, but… I've got to tell Percy… how I feel about you."

Oliver smiled. "Before you tell me how you feel about me?" he asked, turning red.

I smiled back. "Yes."

Oliver laughed. "You're going to tell Percy how you feel about me before telling me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It's easier," I admitted, turning to go back to the castle.

"What happened to facing life bravely?" Oliver asked, following, still holding my hand.

"One step at a time. Anyway… maybe I don't know exactly… how I feel."

"Then how are you going to tell Percy?"

I shrugged and shook my head. "I have no idea."

"Laura?"

"Yeah?" I asked, starting towards the castle again.

"What if Percy doesn't approve?"

I snorted. "If? Oliver, let's get real. When Percy doesn't approve."

"Right. But… if he gives you an ultimatum. You know… if he makes you choose between him and me. That kind of thing."

I sighed. "I don't think he will. But if he does, then it will be a friendship with Percy that I'll have to worry about."

"Meaning…."

"Meaning that I won't choose him over you, but I won't choose you over him, either, unless he makes me."

Oliver nodded. "OK. I just… needed to know that."

"I know."

After a few minutes, we were at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the front door but Oliver held me back. I turned to face him.

"There's one more thing I need to know," Oliver said.

"OK."

"When will it be more about us than about us and Percy?"

I smiled a little. "Oliver…." I said, slowly.

"No. I'm serious. I don't know a nice way to ask this."

"That's OK."

"Can there be an us without Percy?"

"I have to tell him, Oliver. I don't know why I can't just let him figure it out but I need to tell him."

"I understand. That's not what I mean."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… can you think about me without thinking about Percy?"

I laughed. "Thank God, yes, I can."

"You can think about me without thinking that it's a miracle we're even friends? Without thinking about the five years we hated each other?"

I didn't answer.

"That's what I mean when I asked if it would ever not be about Percy."

"Oliver, our past is our fight. Our past is getting over that fight. Has it ever not been about Percy?"

"Exactly," Oliver said. "And can that ever change?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly. I looked down. "But I want it to."

Oliver let go of my hand and moved his own hand up to my chin, lifting my head up so that I was looking at him.

"That's all I wanted to know."

He bent down to kiss me again.

"Well… that's no' exactly wha' I was expectin' to see on the way to me 'ut."

Oliver and I spun towards the castle to see Hagrid walking down the stairs. He was smiling broadly, looking from me, to Oliver, and back to me again.

"It's been a while since I las' talked to the two o' you. I see why."

"What?" I asked. "Oh! No… I mean—"

"We just—" Oliver started.

"Right," I agreed.

Hagrid laughed, taking one last step to take him down the last three stairs onto the ground.

"Yer not in trouble."

Oliver and I didn't say anything. We just stood there, feeling uncomfortable.

"I always knew you two would end up tergether."

"You did not," I said, smiling.

"I did. Jus' like I know that Ron and 'ermione will end up tergether… when they're old enough to realize that's what they want."

"Ron Weasley?" I asked. I had never really thought about it before. I had never really talked to Ron. We rarely even acknowledged that we knew each other.

"O' course," Hagrid said. "I knew it the momen' the two of 'em became friends, in their firs' year. Jus' like I knew it the momen' the two of you became friends."

"And during the past five years?" Oliver asked, smiling.

"Don' you see that fight was what ya needed to realize how ya felt about each other? Ya needed to work on yer friendship before ya could ever be more than friends. And ya needed a fight for yer friendship to really begin. Granted… I didn't think it would take you five years…."

"Funny… I thought it would take five hundred," Oliver said. He laughed.

"It don' matter now. Yer tergether."

I smiled and looked up at Oliver.

"Well… the two o' you are missin' dinner. Better go on inside."

"OK," I said.

We said goodbye to Hagrid and then made our way into the Great Hall together. We acted normally. We didn't need the school to know anything right away.

"I'm going to sit by… where's Percy?"

Oliver shrugged.

"Well… I guess I'm going to sit by you then."

We ate dinner like normal. I couldn't help but think about what I would say to Percy. All I knew was that once Percy knew, I could try to start the next part of my life.

[Author's Note: That chapter is my second favorite part of the story, for obvious reasons. (My favorite is the part with the Golden Snitches.) And I'm sorry… this story doesn't just end with a kiss. There are still conflicts that need to be attended to!

Have you done your good deed for the day? Make this author's day by reviewing! (And it does make my day.) Don't feel like logging in again after Mugglenet's servers disconnected you? Don't have a penname that allows you to review on this website? Not a problem! IM me at ByMerlinsBeard (AIM) or just_smile_04 (Yahoo!). Don't want to review because your review wouldn't be full of peaches and cream and you're afraid of hurting my feelings? Don't be. Constructive criticism is more than welcome. Your comments can help make future chapters better (and eventually help me make past chapters better). Don't delay! Review today!

… I have no pride.

Coming up in the next chapter: Laura has to tell Percy how she feels about Oliver. Emotions run high.]

Chapter 10: Beginning Again


I went up to the common room before the rest of the Seventh Years to look for Percy, but he wasn't there. At around ten o'clock, Oliver came over and sat down next to me. I looked up from my Charms book and smiled.

"I think I'm going to go up to bed," he said.

"OK," I said.

He smiled. "That's it? OK? Not even good night?"

I laughed. "I'm sorry. I'm just a little nervous about telling Percy."

He put his hand on mine. "It'll be fine. Look at it this way. He would never curse you, no matter how upset he gets. If I were to tell him, I'd end up in the Hospital Wing."

"I don't think you just made me feel better," I said.

"I know. I was trying to make you laugh and failed miserably, obviously."

I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for trying. Good night, Oliver."

He stood up and pushed in his chair. "Good night, Laura," he said before walking upstairs.

I did homework until, finally, at around 10:30, Percy walked into the common room. Most people had gone to bed early that night, which, considering the previous late night, made sense.

I stood up, and Percy looked over and smiled. He walked over.

"I need to talk to you," I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

I must have failed because the way Percy said 'Oh' sounded a little apprehensive.

"You've heard?" he asked, looking happy again immediately. Percy didn't look truly happy often.

"Heard?"

"Penelope and I are back together again!" Percy said. He was grinning from ear to ear.

"That's… that's great, Percy," I said, trying to sound glad. I was glad. I was also dreading his reaction to my news.

Percy noticed my lack of excitement and smiled kindly. "Don't worry, Laura. I won't abandon you. We'll still be friends."

I nodded. "Of course."

"Well… we'd better be off to bed then—"

"No, wait. I still need to talk to you."

Hell. I might as well tell him this when he was happy. Maybe he'd forget to be upset.

"OK," Percy said, the apprehension back in his voice. He smiled. "Do I need to sit down?"

I smiled back. There were some times when Percy made me feel better without meaning to. "Um… no… it won't take long."

"OK," Percy said, taking a seat at the table I was working at anyway. "Is something wrong?"

"No. I just… think I should tell you something is all," I said, again failing to be casual.

"Something is wrong," Percy said, frowning now.

"No. Nothing's wrong. You…. I…. OK…."

"What?" Percy asked impatiently.

"There's no way to say it other than to just say it, I guess. I…. Oliver…." I laughed at myself. "This is stupid. I can tell you." I looked at Percy, who seemed to be getting the gist of what I was trying to tell him anyway. "We're together. Now. Dating. Kind of dating. More together than dating. Oliver and I."

I watched as this started to make sense to Percy. At first I thought he was going to take it very well, and I started to feel stupid for thinking he wouldn't. Why would Percy care if I had fallen for a guy he couldn't stand?

And immediately after comprehension kicked in, Percy's emotions kicked in, too.

"WHAT?" Percy asked.

Damn. So much for Percy taking it very well.

"I've spent a lot of time with him. Talking to him. Getting to know him. He's my friend. He's one of my best friends. And he's a good person. You know he is. You wouldn't have ever been friends with him if he wasn't."

"He's made your life miserable," Percy said.

I shook my head. "No. We've made our lives miserable. We're as responsible as he is. Maybe more."

"He's… he's… Oliver Wood! WOOD! By God!"

"By God what?" I asked, getting angry.

"What about Dan?" Percy asked, turning red.

"Dan's dead!" I said.

And then what he said hit me. And what I said hit me.

"You knew?" I asked quietly. "You KNEW?"

"Of course I knew! You thought I didn't? Dan was my best friend. He told me… told me that he loved you. That he didn't care that you were a few years younger, but that he knew Mum would because she cares so much about you, too."

I was in shock. I felt that pressure in my eyes that meant I was about to cry, but I was too angry for actual tears to come out.

"You KNEW and you never TOLD me that you knew? Don't you understand how much that's hurt me? That I lost him too and that I couldn't tell you because I didn't want to hurt you any more than you were hurting already? That I loved him and I wanted your family to know that, so you could all know that SOMEONE loved him before he died, but I couldn't because the subject seemed to be forbidden?"

Percy was furious. And sad. "What was I supposed to say, Laura? I know that my brother was your boyfriend, and I'm sorry that he died? I didn't know HOW to help you, and I was in no state to help you anyway!

"And Mum and Dad knew, too. Mum figured it out. I heard her telling Dad a few days before Dan… died. She said that she could tell by the way he looked at you during meals. Dad wasn't sure, but I think he trusted Mum's judgment."

"You could have brought it up slowly. You could have just TOLD me you knew!" I said, but I was losing my anger.

Percy shook his head and brushed the back of his hand across his right cheek quickly. "I don't want to talk about him. I don't want to remember what happened."

"I don't want to remember what happened, either, Perce, but it did happen, and I know that I will NEVER forget. Percy…. If you think I could ever forget Dan… I promise you that I won't."

Percy didn't say anything. He looked down at the table.

"But I can't spend my whole life remembering. I've got to live for the future and try to stop living in the past. Like you've succeeded in doing."

Percy looked at me but still didn't say anything.

"Percy, I wanted to tell you about Oliver and me so that we could talk about it if you wanted to."

"You loved my brother?" Percy asked.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Why?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Because he was an unbelievably good person and because he didn't seem to know that. And because of how much he cared about me."

"And you love Wood?" Percy asked.

I sighed.

"Do you?" Percy asked a little harshly.

"Yes," I said. "I do."

Percy looked surprised. "Why?" he asked with even more curiosity.

I shrugged, smiling. "I don't know. I haven't had as much time to figure out why. I just do."

Percy didn't say anything. He just started staring off into space. After a few minutes, I stood up.

"I really am happy that you and Penelope are back together again, and I'm sorry if I ruined your good mood."

"Are you?" Percy asked coldly, still not focusing on anything with his eyes.

"Yes, I really am." I paused. "Good night, Percy."

"Out of all of the boys here—"

"I love Oliver. Just like out of all of the girls here you love Penelope. What's the difference?"

"You're comparing Penelope with Oliver Wood?" Percy asked, focusing on me again.

I frowned even more than I was before. "Of course not. Why would I insult Oliver like that?" I asked.

Percy stood up, too, and I remembered how tall he was. He could be a little intimidating when he wanted to be. He hadn't intimidated me in years, and I was too angry to start again now.

"I don't care what you do. If you want to be with Oliver, fine. Just don't come crying to me when he breaks your heart."

"He's no better than you at that, Weasley. Good night," I said as coldly as I could before storming upstairs.

I was furious. But I was also sad and happy at the same time. I was so overwhelmed that I wasn't even thinking about being quiet when I entered our dormitory.

Not that it mattered. The other girls seemed to be waiting for me. They were all sitting together on Joan's bed and stood up when I entered.

My emotions were blocked as I stared back at the other girls for several seconds. By the time someone spoke, all I was feeling was confused.

"We've got to be right," Rose said, turning away from me and facing the other girls.

"About what?" I asked in spite of myself.

"I don't think so," Cedar answered Rose, ignoring me.

"I do," Joan said. "We're right, aren't we?" she asked me.

"Er…."

"I knew it!" Rose said in triumph.

"Knew what?" I asked, in no mood to be kept in the dark.

"They think that you and Oliver… are a couple or something," Cedar said.

My mouth hung open a little. "Er…."

"Told you," Cedar said.

"How'd you know?" I asked.

"Ha!" Rose and Joan said at the same time while Tara laughed.

"WHAT?" Cedar asked.

After a few minutes of multiple conversations occurring and more confusion, I could finally hear all of what Joan had to say.

"Well, it was obvious. Percy was looking for you, but he was the last of us to see you. You walked into the Great Hall with Oliver. He was happy during dinner while you seemed preoccupied. Then you stayed in the common room tonight. None of us had seen Percy come back yet. We put two and two together," she said.

I was still surprised. "That's like putting two hundred and two together," I said.

"Which is still not that difficult."

"Plus… we heard some yelling just now," Rose said.

I didn't respond.

"How did Percy react?" Tara asked.

I raised my eyebrows and shrugged. "He took it better than I thought he would for longer than I thought he would."

"That bad, huh?" Cedar asked.

I walked over and sat on my own bed.

"Are you OK?" Joan asked.

"I'm OK."

She looked skeptical. "Are you?"

"No. And yes."

"I understand," she said.

"I don't," Cedar said.

"Your friends don't hate your boyfriend," Joan said.

"We've never hated your boyfriends," Rose said.

"No, but Oliver has," Joan answered.

I laughed a little. "Ironic."

"Who'd he hate?" Rose asked.

"Doug Livet."

"The Ravenclaw Keeper," I said, nodding a little. "He was good. Graduated last year. I didn't know the two of you dated."

"I never knew Oliver hated him," Rose said.

"Doug and I only dated a few times. Oliver didn't try to hide it from me what he thought of Doug, though. It was… nice in some way, I guess… that he cared. Mostly, it was annoying."

"What'd he have against Doug?" Tara asked.

"That he was a good Quidditch player, probably," Cedar said.

"No, actually. I accused him of that, too. Doug just isn't a very nice person, something I learned quickly. Oliver learned that through Quidditch."

"Did he say Doug would only break your heart?" I asked.

"How'd you know that?" she asked.

"Percy and Oliver influenced each other more than either of them know, or would ever admit," I said.

"Oliver got over it before I even broke up with Doug. I'm sure Percy will—"

"No, he won't. If he can ever ignore it, I would probably die of shock," I said. I looked up. "God, what kind of person chooses a boy over their friend?"

"What kind of friend forces that decision?" Tara asked quietly.

I looked over at her. "I think I may have done that, too."

Joan came over and sat down next to me. "You aren't choosing a boy over a friend when it comes to Percy. You went to him right away so he wouldn't hear it from someone else, probably because you thought you could make him OK with you dating Oliver."

"No," I said. "I knew he wouldn't be OK with it. I just… didn't want to keep this from him like I was going to keep how I felt about his brother from him."

None of them said anything.

"I'm tired and confused, and I'm going to go to bed," I said, standing up to get ready.

The other girls were more than ready to do the same. After all, they'd stayed up much later than I had the night before, celebrating Gryffindor's victory.

I had a few problems falling asleep. I really had thought that telling Percy the truth about how I felt about Oliver would make it so I could break away from everything that had happened in the past and start over. My conversation with Percy made me doubt that hope. I was in love with Oliver Wood. But Dan was still dead, and Percy and Wood still hated each other. I couldn't erase the past with a kiss and a confession.

The past would always be there, but I didn't have to let the past keep defining the present.

I couldn't take away my past, but I could give myself a future, I decided before drifting off.

[Author's Note: I'm sorry that was a short chapter. Probably the shortest chapter yet. And I'm afraid I have horrible news… this is page 162 out of the 164 pages that I had already written before beginning to post this story.

I know, for the most part, what's going to happen in the rest of this story. (It's all mapped out on the bottom of the Word document that I write this story in.) Now, it's just a matter of writing down what happens. Chapters will probably start coming out more slowly, especially for the next few weeks. I am hoping to get at least one more chapter up before school ends, but it will depend on how school is going. Finals are coming up sooner than I'd like.

I knew that I might run into this problem, and to try to prevent this, I was going to post chapters less frequently than I did. However, I couldn't resist posting the chapters and receiving your feedback. Thank you for all of your support and please stay tuned. I REALLY want to finish this story, and your encouragement will help me greatly. Thank you all so much.
-ByMerlinsBeard

P.S. Review! :) Reviews motivate me to neglect homework and write about Oliver and Laura. Sad... but true.

In the next chapter: Laura and Oliver adapt to their new relationship.]

[Author's Note: I was faced with a very interesting dilemma while writing this chapter: how in the hell would Laura and Oliver act around each other after telling each other how they felt. I was stuck at this point in the story for a LONG time. And then I realized that my uncertainty might help me write THEIR uncertainty about the same thing. Yes, this chapter gets "cute"… perhaps too cute, but I've made sure to give Laura and Oliver plenty of hell over it. ;) I hope you all enjoy reading it. Sorry for the delay in posting. You're all awesome for waiting! Please review. Support can only help me write the next chapters. (Didn't think I could write an author's note without a plea for reviews, did you?)]


Chapter 11: Awkwardness and Anger

The next morning I woke up early, as usual, to get ready for the day before the bathroom got too busy. I walked down to the common room to sit in front of the fire, gather my thoughts, and wait for someone to walk down to breakfast with. When I got down there, I found someone else sleeping in my place.

"Oliver?" I asked quietly, bending down and shaking him a little.

He woke up and sat up quickly. "Oh, it's just you."

"Yeah, just me," I said. "Who were you expecting?"

Oliver motioned for me to sit down next to him. I did, keeping a little more space between us than a part of me wanted, but I felt just a little awkward around him.

"I was expecting Percy. Percy with a long, sharp knife."

I laughed. "Are you that sure he took what I said that badly?"

"Yes," he said. "He raised hell when he came upstairs last night, after you talked to him. He woke up all of the Seventh Years by yelling at me. I think the Sixth Years might have heard him, too."

"He yelled at you in the middle of the night?" I asked.

Oliver yawned. "Said I should have left you alone and that the two of you have gone through enough in the past five years and that you didn't need me making things worse."

"You've made things better."

Oliver smiled and put a hand on my knee. "That's what I said. That's also why I slept on the couch down here last night."

I laughed again, though I tried not to.

"It isn't that funny. This sofa wasn't made to sleep on," Oliver said, rubbing his neck.

"I'm sorry," I said, still smiling. "I don't see why you had to sleep downstairs, though. You two have never fought before?"

"Never in the middle of the night the day after the other Seventh Years stayed up partying. The rest of the boys said that if one of us didn't go downstairs, both of us were banned from the room for as long as we weren't getting along. I decided that one night on the couch beat spending the rest of the year down here with Percy."

I nodded. "I didn't think he would say anything to you last night. I thought it could at least wait until morning."

Oliver yawned again, taking his hand off of my knee to cover his mouth. "We said some things to each other that needed to be said, and now that those things have been said, we can go back to ignoring each other."

"He had no right to get as angry as he did," I said, getting angry myself. "He's shown very little interest in me for over a year, and then, all of a sudden, he's interested in what I'm doing again? No, he's interested in what you're doing, that's what it is." I leaned back into the sofa.

"Laura," Oliver said. "You knew that Percy was going to get mad. I knew Percy was going to get mad. I knew that you would probably get a little mad at Percy. But I also thought you might be at least a little happy."

"I am happy," I said, quickly. I smiled. "I can't even get as angry at Percy as I should be."

Oliver shook his head but smiled. "I had the same problem. That's why I was the one sleeping in the common room last night. I don't think the Seventh Years could have made Percy do anything he didn't want to do last night."

I nodded, completely sure that Oliver was right. There was a pause. "So…."

"How did the girls take the news?" Oliver asked.

"About us?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Pretty well. They were a little surprised, but not surprised enough not to guess what was going on yesterday. I think Joan's seen it coming for a while. Did you know that it was her fault that we were paired together for that project in Transfiguration months ago?"

Oliver looked over at me. "What do you mean?"

"She put McGonagall up to it. Probably told her a sob story about how I was miserable and that if I could forgive you, I could have more company. Anyway, McGonagall bought it."

"I didn't know that. I guess I'll have to thank them both for interfering in others' business," he said, taking my hand.

I blushed.

"Is something wrong?" Oliver asked, looking at me concernedly.

I shook my head. "No," I said honestly.

"You're acting strangely," he said, squeezing my hand a little.

I smiled and blushed a little more.

"I'm making you uncomfortable," Oliver said, laughing.

I laughed, too. "Yes," I admitted.

"Why?" he asked, still laughing.

"I have no idea," I said quickly. "I just… have no idea how to treat you now."

Oliver shrugged. "The same as you always have treated me. Well… maybe with a few differences," he said, grinning.

"A few differences?" I said, grinning back a little mischievously. "Such as… calling you disgustingly cute nicknames? Or should I giggle whenever you say anything? Or write your name all over my notes with little hearts around it?"

Oliver shook his head, smiling. "I wouldn't mind my name being all over your notes, but the other two things would get annoying."

I forced myself to giggle.

He laughed wholeheartedly. "What in the hell was that?"

I started laughing normally again and leaned in towards him, resting my head on his shoulder. "I'm not sure. I don't think I've ever made that noise before. I'm not the giggling type."

"No, you aren't," he said, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. "But at least you're loosening up around me again."

"What's that supposed to mean? I'm not standoffish around you," I said.

He laughed, took his arm back and scooted away a little. He clasped his hands and put them in his lap. "You're not making me uncomfortable, Oliver," he said in what shockingly sounded very much like how I talk.

"Hey!" I said, hitting the side of his leg with my hand.

He kept laughing but stopped acting like me.

"That wasn't very nice," I said, smiling to show I was kidding.

"No, it wasn't. I'm sorry," he said, still laughing.

"That's it? You're sorry?"

"What else do you want me to say?" he joked.

"I never said I wanted you to say anything."

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh?" he asked, leaning towards me.

"You two are disgusting," Adam said.

Oliver and I turned quickly to see Adam and Mark standing behind the couch looking down at us. The two of them looked like it was killing them to not laugh, and they quickly gave up trying not to.

"How long have you been standing there?" Oliver asked, with more than a little irritation in his voice.

"Long enough for you two to never live that conversation down," Mark said, still laughing heartily.

"I'm sorry," Adam said.

"That's it? You're sorry?" Mark asked, making his voice higher to mimic me.

"What else do you want me to say?" Adam asked, hamming up his acting as much as humanly possible.

"I don't want you to SAY anything," Mark said, forgetting to raise the pitch of his voice halfway through. The two boys broke into hysterics again.

I blushed but couldn't help laugh a little. Oliver was laughing, too.

"Honestly, we know that people say some, shall we say, sappy things when they first start dating to deal with some awkwardness, but… damn," Mark said.

"Will you two go away?" Oliver asked, still laughing.

Adam raised his hands like he was surrendering, and Mark just laughed.

"Sure, mate. We just came over to warn you."

"Warn me about what?" Oliver asked.

"Warn you that Percy doesn't appear to have slept off any of his anger. If anything, it might have gotten worse. I didn't think it could get much worse, but…. Well, perhaps you should just stay clear of him for a while," Mark said.

"Maybe I should try to talk to him," I said.

"Probably not the best idea," Mark answered. "Your name possibly had worse words following it than Wood's did."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "Worse than Oliver's?"

"Thanks for that," Oliver said.

I looked over at him and smiled. "Sorry."

He just smiled back.

"I can't take this," Adam said, shaking his head at us.

Mark laughed. "We just wanted you to know, Wood." He grinned. "I'm sorry."

"That's it? You're sorry?" Adam asked, picking up the script immediately.

"What else do you want me to say?"

"I don't want you to SAY anything."

The two left the room laughing.

"I will never hear the end of that," Oliver said, blushing a little.

I laughed a little under my breath. "I'm sorry. They'll move on soon enough, I'm sure."

"Only when we give them something even more embarrassing to use," Oliver said.

"I can't wait," I said, laughing and putting my hand in his.

He smiled and quickly looked over his shoulder. "I can't either, but don't tell anyone that," he said quietly.

I leaned in and kissed him. He pulled away more quickly than I'd expected.

"We probably shouldn't be like this when Percy comes downstairs," he said quickly. "Might make things worse for all of us. I don't really want to sleep down here again."

I nodded. "You're right. It's time for breakfast, anyway."

We walked downstairs hand in hand. Some people we passed in the hall smiled and then started whispering when they thought we couldn’t hear them anymore.

"How long do you think it'll be before everyone knows?" I asked.

"About an hour," he said.

"That long, you think?" I asked.

"I was guessing conservatively," he answered.

I nodded. We walked a bit farther in silence. It wasn't an awkward silence, but it wasn't a comfortable one either. I quickly came up with another topic. "You never told me about letting the Golden Snitch go into that room."

Oliver's face lit up more than it had all morning. "No, I didn't, did I? I had just fallen asleep after all of the festivities were ended by McGonagall. A house elf woke me up at dawn to tell me I needed to go to the Quidditch stadium. Professor Dumbledore and all of the heads of the houses were waiting in the center of the field. Professor Dumbledore congratulated the team and me and handed me the Snitch that Harry had caught.

"The six of us walked to the side of the stadium. It turns out there's a faster way into that room than through the locker rooms. We walked through one of the walls in the stadium and directly into the room with the Snitches. Professor McGonagall lit her wand, but that was the only light. I could only see slight shimmers of light from the Snitches. We all stood there for a few minutes. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. Finally, Professor Dumbledore smiled kindly and said, 'Let it go.' So I did."

"Could you see it fly away in the dim light?" I asked, watching him remember the experience instead of watching where I was going.

"No," Oliver said, pulling on my arm a little so I wouldn't run into a student passing by. "I could feel it fly around me once before joining the other Snitches, but it was too dark to watch it."

"Oh. That's too bad."

Oliver shook his head. "I know what it looked like."

I smiled up at him, and he pulled my arm again, so I would avoid a door that had opened.

"Be careful," he said kindly.

"Why? I haven't run into anything," I said, turning my head to watch where I was going anyway.

"You haven't hit anything because I'm watching where you're going for you," Oliver said jokingly while watching me. I pulled on his arm, and he barely avoided running headlong into Professor Dumbledore.

Dumbledore nodded and smiled while passing. He started whistling a tune I didn't recognize as he continued down the hall.

"Be careful," I mocked.

"I have never almost run into anything in my entire life," Oliver said, sounding genuinely surprised.

"And how does it feel to be as unobservant as the rest of us for once?" I asked.

"Unobservant? I've never been so focused on one thing, either," he said.

I turned, blushing, and smiled up at him. "Where is Oliver and what have you done with him?"

Oliver laughed. "I have no idea. Thank God Mark and Adam weren't here to hear that, though."

"We'll be sure to pass it along."

"You must be kidding," Oliver said, as we stopped walking, and Cedar and Rose ran into our backs.

"Honestly, how could you not know we were there?" Rose asked, grinning at the two of us when we decided to turn around and face them.

"They were 'never so focused on one thing', remember?" Cedar asked.

"Not you, too," I said. "Don't you all have better things to do than eavesdrop on our conversations? It's creepy, honestly."

"I take it Adam and Mark overheard one of your conversations this morning?" Cedar asked.

"Unfortunately," Oliver mumbled.

Rose smiled even more. "Well, we won't make you relive the experience. I'm sure the boys will pass along that information."

Oliver smiled back sarcastically.

"I must say I didn't really believe the two of you were together until this walk down to breakfast," Rose said, as the four of us started walking again.

"You really didn't know we were following?" Cedar asked.

"No, we didn't," I answered.

"Have you kissed her yet?" Rose asked Oliver, jokingly.

Oliver laughed and turned red. "That's really none of your business, is it?"

"Of course he has," Cedar said.

"Can we change the subject?" I asked quickly.

"He has, hasn't he?" Cedar asked, seriously.

"Go away!" I said, laughing and holding my palm up to my forehead, wincing as if the conversation was hurting me physically.

"You better have, Wood—"

"I have! Merlin…." Oliver said. I could hear the embarrassment in his voice.

I took my hand away from my face.

"Good," Cedar said with finality, and I was thrilled to be done with that conversation.

The four of us walked into the Great Hall, and Oliver and I reluctantly joined the other Seventh Years. Joan and Tara had gone down before even Adam and Mark. To our amazement and relief, our friends didn't give us much of a hard time. Mark and Adam only ran through their script of Oliver's and my conversation twice, and there were a few funny looks, but that was all. Everything else seemed relatively normal in the group. I was relieved. I could deal with the slight awkwardness around Oliver. I had been expecting Percy's wrath. It was nice to have some stability with the rest of the Seventh Years.

About halfway through breakfast, Percy walked into the Great Hall with Penelope. Our section of the table grew silent, and the half of the table facing Percy watched the two take a seat. Fortunately, Oliver and I were on the side with our backs to him. Percy didn't stop to chat… or yell.

"How's he look?" I asked quietly, unable to pretend like nothing had happened.

"Um… well…." Joan started.

"Like the two of you were nonexistent, more or less," Cedar said bluntly. "He looked completely normal… happy… until he passed our section of the table. Then, he just looked rather apathetic."

I raised my eyebrows and sighed. "Well… I wasn't expecting any differently, I guess."

"He seems to have calmed down since this morning," Adam said, cheerfully.

I shook my head. "No, if Percy's not saying anything, it means that he's more angry at me than if he were in my face yelling obscenities."

"I don't know. He seemed pretty pissed last night when he was in Wood's face yelling obscenities," Adam said.

"It's different," I said quickly.

Oliver nodded. "He hates me, is what she means. The silent treatment is reserved for the people he actually likes."

"How nice of him," Mark said.

We laughed a little and moved into new, normal conversations.

The school day was normal, yet different. It was the same old Monday routine: Arithmacy, Transfiguration, lunch, Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Nothing remarkable occurred in any class, but little changes made that Monday seem different from any previous Monday that year. Oliver walked me to Arithmacy before going to his own Muggle Studies class. People in the halls would smile at the two of us (with the occasional glare coming from a fourteen- or fifteen-year-old girl). Professor McGonagall gave us a genuine smile when she saw Oliver sitting next to me, holding my hand.

At lunch, Mark and Adam tried to convince us Seventh Years that they, too, had seen the relationship coming all along. No one bought it. In Potions, Snape made a snide remark about Gryffindor's "newest couple" and how "Hogwarts relationships" rarely work. When the Sixth and Seventh Years who were apathetic about Oliver and I dating heard that our relationship pissed Professor Snape off enough for him to say something, these Sixth and Seventh Years became much more outwardly supportive of the whole thing. Not that Oliver and I needed other people to support the relationship, but the fact that they did helped our uneasiness that day.

Professor Lupin, in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, probably made more of a deal out of Oliver and I dating than any other professor, perhaps with the exception of Hagrid, who beamed whenever he saw us for weeks. He smiled much like Professor McGonagall had when he saw us sitting beside each other. Our lesson that day was on a few counter-curses that could be used while dueling. He had Oliver and I demonstrate the counter-curses for the class "to prepare Oliver and Laura for their future minor domestic disputes." We knew to take his teasing in good spirits. It was slightly easier for me to do so; I would have defeated Oliver in each duel had the duels been real. Oliver continued to claim for weeks that he'd let me win the duels. I always responded by telling him that it would be easier for everyone if he learned to admit when he was defeated by me because it would happen often.

That evening, after dinner, I tried to do homework for a couple of hours. It was difficult to concentrate on my studies because people kept interrupting to comment on how they were glad to see Oliver and me happy again.

"Laura?"

I looked up from my Transfiguration book, clearly showing my frustration.

"I'm sorry," Oliver said. "I didn't mean to bother you."

I shook my head and smiled. "Not at all. I was expecting another well-wisher that I didn't really want to talk to."

"I take it you don't mind talking to me, then," Oliver said, pulling out a chair but not sitting in it.

"Most of the time," I said, grinning.

"Would you like to get out of Gryffindor? Go take a walk perhaps?" Oliver asked quickly.

I checked my Muggle watch. "It's already after curfew, Oliver."

"Only by about fifteen minutes. It's not like we're getting anything accomplished. People have been interrupting our studying all evening."

"Yes, but if we get caught—"

Oliver interrupted me with his laughter. "If we get caught, then this is probably the only day we'll ever be able to get away with it. Think about it. If someone catches us, then we'll plead temporary stupidity, send some puppy love looks at each other and act cute. No one will want to ruin our good day."

"Except Snape. Or Percy," I said.

"Percy's not monitoring the halls tonight. And we'll stay away from the dungeons. Does Snape ever leave the dungeons?"

I shrugged. "I've never seen him upstairs before. But I don't usually wander the halls at night."

The truth was that I didn't mind following rules. If I absolutely had to break a rule, I would, but otherwise I stayed within the guidelines. Maybe Percy had rubbed off on me a little bit. The thought that Percy may have been influencing my thinking made me seriously consider Oliver's argument. He was probably correct. If we did get caught that night, most people would probably look the other way.

Oliver could see that I'd made up my mind and walked around the table. He took my hand and pulled me up.

"All right," I said, sighing. "Just let me put my books upstairs."

"I don't think anyone will take your homework."

I looked at him curiously. "Why are you in such a hurry to leave the common room?" I looked around. "Is Percy in here or something?"

Oliver laughed, but just barely. "No, and even if he were, it wouldn't chase me out of the room. I just… we haven't had much time alone today. Everyone's been too interested in us to give us any time to ourselves."

I smiled and blushed a little. Oliver smiled back, and I followed him silently out of the common room, leaving my books where they were.

For several minutes, we walked slowly, hand in hand, through the upper floors of Hogwarts. For the first time, I did not feel awkward around Oliver while there was silence. I knew that we still had things to talk about. But I also knew that we could talk about these things… there was no rush. And we had had enough conversations that we didn't have to share every thought with each other anymore. We already knew, in some basic form, what the other person was thinking.

"I don't think I've been in this hallway," Oliver said, after we'd been out of the common room for almost half an hour.

"I used to have to walk through here on my way to the Divination Tower."

Oliver looked down at me, smiling. "You did take Divination, didn't you? I'd forgotten that."

"Largest waste of time of my life," I said. "I have absolutely no sense of the future. Professor Trelawney said I was too wrapped up in the past to be able to see into the future. Maybe she was right. I doubt it, though. I seriously wonder if Trelawney was ever able to see anything meaningful in the future."

"I don't think many people believe she can see into the future. I suppose Dumbledore would never have hired her if she didn't have some talent, though."

"I know of one person who placed some faith in Professor Trelawney," I said, smirking slightly.

"Who?" Oliver asked.

"Rose," I said, trying not to laugh.

"Rose? Our Rose? She doesn't seem like the type to fall for that kind of thing."

"She is when she likes what she hears."

Oliver stopped walking, and since I was still holding his hand, I stopped as well and faced him.

"I have a feeling this is going to be a pretty good story. I'd like to focus more on the story than where we're going," he said, leading me over to a windowsill at the end of the small hallway were we in. The two of us put our weight against the sill. "All right. Let's hear it."

I laughed. "Well, Rose needed a letter of recommendation, and Professor Trelawney always liked Rose because Rose actually pretended like she cared what we were learning about in that class. Rose was good at making up fortunes that not only sounded believable, but were based in the lessons we had. She got an Outstanding on O.W.L.s in that class. We're not sure why she didn't take N.E.W.T. levels of the class.

"Anyway, I went upstairs with Rose and Tara so Rose could ask for a letter of recommendation. Professor Trelawney was pleased to be asked. She said she couldn't write one without looking at Rose's palm, though. Rose agreed, of course. Professor Trelawney looked at her palm and said a few things that I don't remember about the Head and Life lines. When Professor Trelawney reached the Heart Line, she gasped. Professor Trelawney said that it appeared that Rose was in a time of unrequited love at the moment, but that very soon this love would be returned."

Oliver laughed.

I nodded. "Rose wouldn't let us leave until she'd gotten Professor Trelawney to tell her that Rose and Flint would be happily married with two children and a dog. Professor Trelawney, thankfully, told Rose what she wanted to hear. I would have hated to see what Rose would have done to the poor woman if Trelawney would have said that Rose and Flint had no future together."

"I think it would have been rather amusing to watch."

I laughed. "I actually thought that Rose was losing hope in anything ever working with Flint, but now her hope is back as strong as ever."

"I've heard rumors that it may not be hopeless," Oliver said.

I looked up in him with surprise. "You mean Flint is actually coming around?"

"Well, I don't know if I'd say that. I'd say it would be closer to say that Flint is starting to give in. It's pretty obvious to the rest of the school that Rose will never give up. The two were seen walking around the grounds yesterday afternoon."

"You're kidding," I said, impressed.

"Of course… the rumors did include the part about Rose attaching herself to Flint with a charm. But he didn't break the charm for over an hour."

"He probably couldn't figure out how," I said.

Oliver laughed. "I'm afraid you might be right. But let's not give up hope if Rose hasn't."

I smiled up at him. "That was sweet."

"Then I take it back," he said. He put his hands on my waist and pulled me closer.

My stomach flipped, and I felt myself blushing furiously. Oliver was nice enough not to say anything about it. He leaned down to kiss me. I closed my eyes and tilted my head up towards him. Oliver must not have seen my move my head. He ended up kissing my chin.

The two of us leaned away from each other quickly. I looked up at him. Both of us were clearly bright red now.

"I missed," he said simply, taking his hands off my waist.

His tone of voice and face made me start laughing.

"Yes, you did," I said, trying to match his simplicity.

He started laughing, too. "You aren't willing to take any of the responsibility?" he teased.

I shook my head. "No, I believe I shirk responsibility quite well and don't intend on stopping now."

"Well… what are you going to do when we graduate, and you have to take some responsibility?"

He was kidding, but my mind still registered it as a valid question.

"I don't know," I said, honestly.

Oliver just smiled kindly. "I don't know either."

"I don't really like to think about what's going to happen after Hogwarts," I said.

"Surely you've thought about it a little. We're all on career paths. Have been since our fifth year, after we talked to Professor McGonagall," he said.

"Well, yes," I admitted, turning away from him and looking out the window. "I want to work for The Daily Prophet, but I don't like to think about what I'll do if I don't get a job there."

"You've applied?" Oliver asked kindly.

"Last year," I confirmed, "and I've set up an interview for a few days after graduation."

"Then I'm sure you have nothing to worry about."

I looked over at him and smiled. He had also turned to look out of the window. It wasn't a great view. This window looked out at another wall of Hogwarts. Of course, the window wasn't meant to show people anything spectacular. This wasn't a place people normally stopped. It was a hallway used to get from one part of the castle to another, and the window let in light adequately enough for that.

"I'm afraid I'll worry about it until I know for sure either way."

"I never knew that's what you wanted to do," Oliver said, perhaps a little to himself.

"I never told you," I said.

"I never asked."

"I never asked you what you wanted to do with your life after graduation, either," I said.

He looked at me and laughed a little.

"You're right. I knew what you wanted to do."

"I didn't say anything. How do you know I was right?"

"I knew what you were thinking. But I still never have asked about your plans, so there's no need to feel bad about asking about mine. Have you tried out for any teams?"

"No," Oliver said. "Madame Hooch told me that there were scouts from a few teams in Britain here at the last game. Not necessarily for me, mind you. For any Sixth and Seventh Years."

"Perhaps, but they must have noticed the captain of the winning team," I said, happy for him.

He smiled. "I hope so. I'll find out soon enough. But what about you? What do you want to do for the Prophet?"

I shrugged. "I have no idea. I've just always wanted to work for that paper. It's where most British wizards get their news, and… I knew a long time ago that if I couldn't make the news, I wanted to at least spin it the way I wanted."

Oliver laughed. "So you want to write?"

"Not necessarily. Everyone who works for the paper can spin the news. Even the people who decide the layout can influence how people see the stories."

"That's true, I suppose."

"Professor McGonagall told me that my flexibility would help me, or my lack of commitment to one part of the field would hurt me. I've been hoping that The Daily Prophet will see things in any way that will help me. Ultimately, it will all depend on my N.E.W.T.s."

Oliver sighed. "My back-up plan does. If I don't make any Quidditch team, then I'll try to join the Ministry, like my dad."

"You don't seem to keen on the idea," I said carefully.

Oliver shrugged. "I don't think the back-up plan ever sounds that appealing. That's why it's Plan B, right?"

I laughed a little under my breath. "Makes sense."

"And, if I do make a team and can make a career out of Quidditch, eventually I'll have to retire from that and get a real job. Then the Ministry of Magic can become Plan A." He smiled. "But I'll admit that I'd like to keep that part of my life farther into the future than at the end of this school year."

I didn't say anything.

"It's kind of scary, isn't it?" Oliver asked after a few minutes.

"The future? Yes, it's terrifying. Let's try not to think about it for a while longer," I said, smiling to show that I wasn't too serious.

He put his arm around my waist. "We still have a couple months to stay under Hogwarts' protection."

"Yes," I agreed. I leaned toward him and smiled to myself.

Hogwarts had always offered a sense of refuge. Especially my fourth year, when I could escape from the previous summer by diving into my school work like I never had before. Then, Hogwarts and the people in it had offered me a future by educating me. Now, Hogwarts and the people there made the present feel safe and protected me from the future.

"This is a horrible view," Oliver said.

I laughed. "You picked the window, not me." I turned away from the window and toward Oliver.

"Fair point," Oliver said. He turned me around slowly, so that my back was to the window, and he took a few steps back. "That's a little better."

I laughed and shook my head.

Oliver laughed, too. "That was a horrible line."

"Yes," I said.

"I'm trying," he said, shrugging.

"Trying to what?"

He shook his head and laughed a little more. "I have no idea. I guess the truth is… I'm not entirely sure how to act around you anymore, either."

I sighed. "I think you had it right this morning. Act like you always have… with a few differences."

"Such as?" he asked, smirking, making me answer that question again.

I smirked back. "Well… for one thing, you could work on your aim a bit."

He laughed and blushed a little, but he didn't miss when he kissed me again.

After a few minutes, Oliver stood back a little and laughed. "I think I like this difference."

I laughed, too. "I'm glad," I said, jokingly patting him on the arm. I caught a glimpse of my watch. I didn't think I had seen the time correctly, so I looked more carefully. "It's really late, Oliver. I don't think even we could get out of trouble now."

He nodded. "Let's head back, then."

He took my hand, and we made our way quickly, but quietly back to Gryffindor Tower without running into anyone patrolling the hallways. The fact that we'd spent so long out after hours without getting caught made me question the security at school a little, but the thought passed quickly. That night, I just didn't care much about whether anyone who didn't belong could get into the castle without being noticed.

When we got back to the common room, it was empty. I walked over and gathered up my books. I hadn't finished my homework, but I could get what needed to be done the next morning. Oliver walked me over to the door leading to the girls' dormitories, perhaps needlessly, but I didn't mind.

"Good night, Oliver," I said quietly, before kissing him lightly on his cheek.

"Sweet dreams, Laura," he responded, opening the door and then shutting it softly behind me.

I smiled to myself and walked upstairs.


[Author's Note: Hooray for 2 a.m. I've been so nervous about this chapter that I put off writing it for about a year. I probably could have put off the end of this chapter another day, but I like writing while no one is awake.

This was a very hard chapter to write. My plans for it changed completely while I was writing it. I ended up deciding that the characters' plans for the future fit in with their conversation here better than the conversation that I originally intended to go into this chapter. That means I have to craft the next chapter around that other conversation. Which means that it might take me a little while again. The truth is that I had forgotten how long it takes to write even one rather simple conversation. I try not to think about how many hours must have gone into the part of this story I wrote last year (or sometime near last year).

Thank you all for waiting for the past few weeks for this chapter. You're all marvelous… simply marvelous! Thanks especially to electronicquillster for looking over this chapter for me and offering moral support. Go check out her story, Harry Potter and the Lightning Bond. The story follows this missing Gryffindor fifth years and contains clever clues leading up to the revelation of what the Lightning Bond is. It's got a good characterization of Professor Dumbledore, gives the Weasley twins the attention they deserve, and has an amusing original main character, Andrea. It's under my favorite stories, if you want an easy way to reach it.

Coming up in the next chapter (I think): Percy's still pretty pissed, which angers Laura quite a bit. And Oliver has been worrying for months now about something that Laura told him.]

[Author's Note: It's been a while since the last chapter. Thank you very much for your patience.]

Chapter 12: Potions and Epiphanies

The next morning, I got up even earlier than usual so I could finish the homework I had neglected the night before. I was a morning person, but even morning people don't enjoy getting up before the time they normally do. Nevertheless, I immediately dismissed the thought every time I told myself that had I not gone on a walk with Oliver, I wouldn't have had to get up so early. There would be plenty of opportunities in my life to get a full night's sleep.

After half an hour of Transfiguration and forty minutes of Potions homework, the common room finally began to liven up as much as it can liven up at eight on a Tuesday morning. I closed my Potions book and looked towards the door leading to the boys' dormitories just in time to see Oliver walk into the common room.

I left my books on the sofa and walked over to meet him. He greeted me with a half-awake smile and a short kiss.

"I was happy not to find you sleeping in the common room this morning," I said, grinning.

Oliver laughed. "Not as happy as I am that you didn't." He looked at me carefully. "You don't look like you got much sleep."

"I got up early to finish some homework."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I wouldn't have asked you to go on a walk—"

"Don't worry about it. I don't regret walking with you instead of reading about Transfiguration…."

I lost track of my train of thoughts as I saw Percy walk out of the stairway. He looked over at Oliver and me and kept walking, now more resolutely. I focused my attention back on Oliver, trying to appear as if I didn't realize Percy was in the room. After Percy passed us, I frowned a little.

"Time for breakfast, I think," Oliver said, gently taking my hand.

"Absolutely," I said, looking him in the eyes and making an effort to forget about my problems with Percy, only to find that doing so wasn't so difficult. I gave Oliver a genuine smile, and we walked, for the second time, hand-in-hand down to breakfast.

I spent most of my free time over the next week with Oliver. Unlike much of our relationship up to that point, that week cannot be defined by one or two conversations… partially because we didn't spend a lot of that time talking.

Ironically, the same thing could be said about Percy and me. Percy was continuing the silent treatment, and I did my best not to make that difficult for him. I mainly tried to ignore Percy, which wasn't difficult since he was spending most of his time with Penelope or in the library. When I couldn't avoid Percy, I ignored him.

I found it hard to really care about Percy's or my own anger towards Percy when I wasn't near him. My mind was on other things. And, for the first time in such a long time… I was happy with how things were, even if things weren't perfect.

About ten days after I told Percy how I felt about Oliver, Percy's silent treatment started to break down. As most people who have suffered such a treatment before know, once the silence is broken, you rather wish it hadn't been.

I had spent my evening in the library, going over Transfiguration notes from the previous year. I reached the point where if I had read one more word of my notes, I might have beaten my head against the table to distract myself from the pain of dying of boredom. On my way back into the common room, I almost literally ran into Percy.

The two of us stood still, looking at each other for a few seconds before Percy stepped past me. Just when I was sure he was going to keep walking, he turned. "Five points off of Gryffindor for breaking curfew last week," he said calmly.

I was too surprised that he had spoken to me to respond. Percy took advantage of the silence and left quickly. Had I been a bit less angry, it might have occurred to me to chase after him and perform whatever curse I thought of first. Instead, I stood still, murmuring words that my mum still won't allow me to use in her presence and trying to figure out how Percy knew I had broken curfew. It took me longer to figure it out than it should have. Percy and Oliver did share a room, and the three of us were in the same house, after all.

My shock wore off quickly, and my anger became less blatant. I walked over and joined the rest of the Seventh Years, who were sitting in our usual spot near the center of the common room.

"What happened?" Adam asked, not about to pretend that the group hadn't noticed the small scene that had just occurred.

"He just took five points away from Gryffindor because I broke curfew last week," I said, obviously still more surprised than I had thought.

"He took five points away from his own house?" Rose asked.

"I've done it before," Joan said.

I looked at her, surprised yet again, not because she'd taken points away from Gryffindor before, but because she was a Prefect, and I had completely forgotten that.

"It's not that he took away points from Gryffindor. It's that he took them away from me," I said, focusing on the real issue again.

"Well…." Mark said. "Look at the bright side. At least he's talking to you again. That's progress, right?"

The rest of the Seventh Years laughed, and even I smiled after several seconds. I sat by Oliver and joined in on the conversations, my anger fading quickly.

That's pretty much how the next two weeks went. Gradually, Percy stopped ignoring Oliver and me. Instead of silence, we got to enjoy occasional snide comments. At first the comments were directed mainly at Oliver, who would say something back and move on. Then Percy started directing his comments at me. At first, my surprise at being targeted by Percy prevented me from standing up for myself. Once the comments stopped catching me by surprise, I started coming up with comebacks. Some of them were pretty good, much to the enjoyment of Adam and Mark, who critiqued each exchange between Percy and me and declared a winner. The two of them kept score on a piece of parchment titled "The War in the Corridors: Laura vs. Percy". I was usually narrowly ahead of Percy. To be fair, I did have two good coaches, who were also the judges and my friends.

Each time Percy would say something to me, I would get upset, but my anger quickly faded once Percy left. Oliver tried to talk me out of my anger at first, only to learn that I got over it faster if neither of us mentioned it.

I don't mean to make it sound as if these incidents occurred very frequently. Percy wasn't going out of his way just so he could throw an insult at me. In fact, the two of us still generally tried to avoid each other. Class and meals made avoidance slightly difficult, and at those times, we sometimes exchanged a few words. At the most, this happened twice per day. In all honesty, at all other times, it was not an issue. I wasn't brooding over fighting with Percy at all hours. If Percy was out of sight (or at least out of earshot), he was out of mind.

I still spent most of my time with Oliver, and the two of us avoided the subject of Percy, which we found surprisingly easy to do. Only weeks before, the two of us had been worried that our relationship would always be defined by our fight. The fight didn't even come up often anymore. We talked about the past, but we focused on individual events that had occurred instead of on how our relationship had been at the time.

--~--~--

"Hey, gorgeous," Oliver said, as I joined the Seventh Years one night after completing an assignment.

"Hello, beautiful," I said back, smiling.

"Oh, my God…" Adam said, looking up. "Deliver us from this evil."

Most of us laughed.

"We were kidding," Oliver said.

I sat down next to him on a sofa, and he put his arm around my waist.

"I thought that was obvious when I called you 'beautiful'," I said, smirking up at him.

Oliver grinned back.

"Ughck," Adam articulated.

Tara hit him playfully. "I wish we were still more like them," she said, smiling to show she wasn't entirely serious.

"We've been in love way too long for that," Adam said, grinning up at her.

"Merlin… get a room," Rose said, smirking at Adam.

"Anyway, Oliver and I are hardly ever like that around you anymore."

"No, which is a shame," Tara said.

Joan nodded in agreement. "I thought it was cute."

I sighed, but just barely. A part of me missed it, too. Most of me, however, was glad to have the normal Oliver back. He didn't say the "cute" things as often as he had when we started dating, and he almost never said those things around other people. Yet, he also treated me differently than he had right after we'd started dating. Most of the awkwardness was gone. I didn't turn bright red whenever he so much as touched my hand, and he didn't say sappy things whenever he didn't know what else to say. We were figuring out the 'differences' in our relationship that had given us trouble at first.

"Something wrong?" Oliver said quietly, as the rest of the Seventh Years kept talking.

"Not at all," I said, leaning my head against his shoulder.

--~--~--

The next week was dominated by school. Almost everyone seemed to realize that there was only one month until the Seventh Years had to take N.E.W.T.s, which were one week before school ended. The teachers responded to this realization by increasing the amount of material we were covering and decreasing the amount of time we spent on each lesson. The Seventh Years were scared into actually taking the assignments seriously and into furiously going over old material. The rest of the school knew enough to leave the Seventh Years alone.

Halfway through that week, I had the most memorable Potions class I had during my seven years at Hogwarts. Stress from the end of the year had put most people in the school in worse-than-normal moods. This, of course, meant that Snape had to be twice as mean as normal, in order to keep up appearances.

At the beginning of the class, Professor Snape told us about the properties of the Epiphany Potion, which basically clears one's thinking, oftentimes resulting in quite bright ideas. The Sorting Hat was supposedly the result of such a potion. Snape went on to say (almost cheerfully, which was always a horrible sign), that the potion is extremely difficult to make. It requires at least two people to make it because many of its ingredients need to be prepared while the potion itself is being carefully made. The potion requires a great deal of teamwork. As all students know, as the amount of teamwork needed to do a class project increases, so does the likelihood that the teacher will choose the teams. (Interestingly, this is Fred and George's Second Law of School Sucks.)

All of us always knew when Snape was about to assign partners. He would get a certain look on his face that only appeared when he was about to try to make someone's Potions experience more miserable than it already was. Unfortunately, he was looking directly at me when this look appeared. I wasn't surprised. Snape's least favorite type of person was someone who had been unhappy in the past and, by some miracle, was actually enjoying life.

"Debman and Weasley may work together today, I believe," he said, grinning. "I generally avoid grouping friends together, but today… I'll make an exception."

I smiled sarcastically at him and grabbed my notes and book bag before making my way over to Percy's table. Snape continued pairing people together, making as many Gryffindors unhappy as possible, even if this meant making Slytherins unhappy as well. No one argued with him. If Snape had taught us nothing else in seven years, he did teach us that, in his classes, our pleas for fairness would only be met with points taken away from Gryffindor or detention.

I sat down next to Percy and looked over the notes we had just taken on the potion and the directions in the book. "You should prepare it. You're better at making potions than I am," I said, seeing that the potion was indeed quite difficult.

Percy started setting up his cauldron. "No need for niceties. Perhaps being paired up with someone in a class has worked out well for you before. It's unlikely it will again."

"Just shut up, and let's do the damned assignment," I said quietly. "If for no other reason, just so we don't make Snape's day better."

Percy and I gathered all of the ingredients we would need, and the two of us prepared all of the ingredients that could be prepared before the potion was actually started. Then Percy got started, and I kept chopping and grinding various things into tiny pieces and powders. The two of us ignored each other as much as we could. Every now and then Percy would ask if an ingredient was done. I would point. He would take whatever he'd been asking for, and we'd go back to pretending we were sitting at lab tables in separate countries.

Other people in the room were having more problems getting along than Percy and I were. Almost all of the ingredients had one thing in common: they required longer amounts of time to prepare than the people with this job actually had. About every three minutes, someone could be heard snapping at his or her partner. Snape quickly disarmed the only Slytherin actually to draw his wand on his partner. Not that Cedar needed Snape's protection. She had already brought her Potions book down over the boy's head. Snape didn't punish either of them. He just handed the Slytherin his wand and cast a warning look at the partners.

"Is the liverwort shredded?" Percy asked blandly.

"Um…." I finished as quickly as I could and handed it to him.

Near the end of the lab, all of the people preparing the ingredients were behind the point where they needed to be. Minor spats could be heard in every part of the room, but no one was listening to anyone else's problems. Percy and I were the only two not arguing verbally. We satisfied ourselves with all of the unforgiving looks we could muster. Until….

"Oh, shit!" Percy said, loudly.

I looked up from the plant I was grinding into a paste. Our potion was bubbling intensely and started to spill over onto the table. I moved the other ingredients off the table and stepped away from the potion.

"What did you do?" I asked.

"I did exactly what the directions told me to do," Percy snapped. "You were the one not preparing the ingredients well enough."

"Well, they seemed to have passed your inspection, so I can't take all of the credit."

Percy turned to look at me angrily. "I did notice. The dragonstail root wasn't chopped into small enough pieces, and the elf's fingernails weren't ground finely enough, and—"

"If you knew, then why in the hell didn't you say anything?" I asked, my voice starting to get louder. I turned my body to face him directly.

"I didn't want to hurt your feelings," he said, his eyes flashing, and his voice getting quiet.

"Hurt my feelings? Since when do you care about my feelings?"

"I have always cared," Percy said, immediately sensing that the topic had changed. Years later, it occurred to me how few people in my life ever understood me well enough to have sensed such a subtle change.

Percy was furious, but I could hear a little sadness in what he'd said. At any other time, I would have felt bad for even mentioning Dan, let alone for accusing Percy of not caring about how I felt about Dan's death. On that day, I was too upset to care about Percy's feelings anymore, and I laughed dryly. "Yes. You always have cared enough not to tell me the truth."

"Because you, Laura, are the epitome of honestly itself," Percy said sarcastically.

"I would have told you the truth if I knew you already knew it!" I yelled.

"You always want honestly, unless it involves you being honest," Percy said, more loudly than before.

"Quit changing the subject!" I said, knowing it wasn't one of my best comebacks.

"You're the one who changed the subject away from the potion in the first place!"

"Fine! You want to get back to the potion? If you would have told me the TRUTH, then the potion wouldn't have BLOWN UP!"

Professor Snape walked between the two of us, pushing us aside. "Clearly the potion hasn't blown up yet, but it will if you two stand there stupidly, yelling at each other," he snapped, waving his wand and making the potion disappear. He turned to glare at me. "You both know better than to leave a potion unattended—especially a potion that is obviously incompetently made. You could have killed half of the people in the room."

"Then you shouldn't have assigned an impossibly difficult potion," I snapped without thinking, still glaring at Percy.

This got the class's attention. I was sure that the class had been listening to the exchange between Percy and me, hoping for a major blowout. However, when I turned my anger on Snape, everyone turned to see how he'd respond.

I slowly faced Professor Snape, afraid of what I would see. At first, Snape didn't say anything. He just looked at me for several seconds. I thought that this should count as sufficient punishment, but I knew that the real punishment was to come. I had just enough time to wonder what horrors Oliver had been referring to on our walk back from Hogsmeade when he told me it was best not to think about what the professors could put you through during detention.

"Apparently Miss Debman believes that I should not ask you to do lessons that I believe will truly test you. Perhaps Miss Debman feels that I should only ask things of you that I know you are capable of. I believe you have all proven that you can write papers. Maybe Miss Debman would object less to a foot-long essay on another potion which requires teamwork."

The class groaned.

"Well, Miss Debman? Is this a more suitable assignment than preparing the Epiphany Potion?" Snape asked.

"No, sir," I said, trying to answer how I thought he wanted me to.

"Very well. Make it a foot and a half."

I winced. "I meant—"

"It doesn't matter what you meant," he snapped, turning quickly. "The rest of you have potions to monitor," he said.

Percy and I sat at the desk in complete silence while the rest of the class tried their best to make an Epiphany Potion. No one's potion looked quite how the book said it should look, but no one else made their potion almost blow up either. I decided that a person who wanted to have a bright idea would be well advised to spend their time thinking instead of attempting to make that potion.

When the class period finally ended, Percy and I gathered our things and went our separate ways. He walked out of the room quickly, and I walked over to Oliver.

Oliver smiled kindly. "Rotten luck with the potion."

I shook my head. "More like rotten preparation."

"It was an impossible assignment," he said quietly, so Snape couldn't hear.

I laughed a little, mainly just to recognize his attempt at making me feel better about failing the project. "Well… what's done is done."

"Yes," Oliver said. I noticed that he had paused before agreeing, but decided I'd rather not know why.

Oliver and I waited for Joan, Tara, Adam and Cedar. Rose had apparently already left the room, and Mark had opted out of taking Potions at the N.E.W.T. level, which at the time I considered a very good idea on his part.

The six of us walked out of the classroom, trying to talk our ways out of the bad moods that the potion had put us in. Had we known what would greet us in the hallway, we wouldn't have bothered. Oliver and I, who were in the back of the group, had just walked into the hallway. The six of us stopped dead in our tracks.

Rose, who must have been talking to Marcus Flint while we were still in the Potions lab, was leaning up on her toes. She kissed Flint, firmly but quickly. That would have been enough for us completely to forget about our Potions woes. What happened next was even more shocking. Flint took her in his arms and kissed her back.

I don't think my mouth had ever dropped open as far as it did then. I wish I had thought of looking at the other Seventh Years for their reactions. I am sure their faces probably looked similar to my own.

"I. Will. Be. Damned," Adam said confidently.

Rose and Flint realized they had an audience and turned toward us. Neither one of them looked even slightly embarrassed.

"I never knew Rose could perform the Imperius Curse," Adam whispered to Tara, but all of us could hear him.

"Very funny, Still," Rose said. "I decided to take a page out of Oliver's book and act on my feelings."

"That was a month ago," Oliver said.

"I didn't say I decided it right away," Rose said.

"You've been acting on your feelings for months," Cedar said.

Rose smiled. "And it paid off. Come on, Marcus. Let's find someplace with more privacy."

Rose and Flint headed further into the dungeons, and the rest of us started making our way to Gryffindor Tower.

"I don't like that relationship," Oliver said suddenly. We'd all been relatively quiet as we tried to shake off our surprise.

I looked up at him. "What happened to 'Let's not give up hope if Rose hasn't?'?"

"That was when she didn't stand a chance, and it was funny."

"If she likes him, we should support it," I said. "She's our friend."

"It's Marcus Flint," Adam said, making a face I normally would have found amusing.

"Who are we to tell our friend whom she can and cannot date?" I asked, getting defensive.

"I didn't say we should tell her she can't date him," Oliver said.

"What did you mean, then?"

"Laura—"

"Because if you outwardly don't support the relationship, then you might as well tell her she shouldn't date him."

"What relationship?" Oliver asked, sounding more confused than anything. "They hardly know each other."

"And we hardly know him."

"It's not a huge deal…." Adam said, trying his best to smooth things over.

Oliver reached out and touched my arm. "This isn't about Rose and Flint, is it?"

I didn't answer or even acknowledge he'd said anything.

"No one's going to say anything to Rose, Laura," Joan said softly. "We don't have to like Flint in order to be glad Rose is happy."

I nodded.

Oliver took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. I squeezed his hand back and barely smiled up at him.

We reached the portrait of the Fat Lady and, after Adam gave the password, walked in. There was about an hour, which students usually spent wasting time, between when class ended and when dinner was served. Most assignments took longer than one hour to complete, and the consensus was that if you didn't have enough time to finish an assignment, then there was no point in beginning it at that time. The fact that most of the Fifth and Seventh Years could now be found studying during this hour before dinner was a testament to the rest of the school as to how near the end of the year was.

"I'm going to go upstairs and get a book," Oliver said, taking his hand back.

"I think I'm going to take a nap," I said nonchalantly.

Oliver looked at me disbelievingly.

"What?" I asked.

"You've been studying more than any of us, especially more than we have during this time. Not to mention that you never take naps," Oliver said.

"Then I think I can afford missing one hour of studying, considering how much more than the rest of you I've been studying," I said, a bit snappishly.

Oliver didn't push the issue. "I'm sure you can. I'll see you at dinner?"

I nodded before walking upstairs and falling onto my bed without even taking off my shoes. I didn't bother closing the curtains around my bed. Oliver was right—I normally didn't take naps. I always woke up with a headache and feeling more tired than before. But on that day, all I knew was that I was exhausted and in a bad mood, and I hoped an hour of sleep would help cure both of these problems.

Joan woke me up for dinner. I groaned. The nap, unsurprisingly, had made me feel physically worse. I thought that this was probably a bad sign for my mood. I rolled over and told Joan that I had a headache and wasn't hungry.

"Some food will probably help your headache," Joan said.

She started tugging on my arm, making it obvious that naptime was over. I dragged myself out of bed, brushed my hair quickly, and followed Joan downstairs to meet the others. I barely even heard the conversation on the way to dinner. It wasn't until we all sat down in the Great Hall that I realized that Rose was with us and that this actually meant something that day.

"You look like hell," she said, probably in response to me looking at her as if we'd never met before.

I smiled at her frankness. "I'm just tired. You, on the other hand, look like you're having a pretty good day," I said teasingly.

"I thought we were done with that," Rose said, sounding irritated but smiling.

I cocked my head.

"We talked about Flint and me the whole way down here," she said, showing her own confusion.

"And I missed it?" I asked.

"You were there," Mark said.

"But we can have the conversation again, if you'd like," Adam offered.

"I'd rather not," Rose said.

"Please," Cedar said, sarcastically. "You like the attention."

Rose simply smiled, neither confirming nor denying this.

"How could you miss that entire conversation?" Mark asked.

"Well, I didn't realize it was important."

The group laughed at me.

"Do I get a summary, or not?" I asked, grinning.

Summaries of conversations were Mark and Adam's specialty. They'd gotten practice while judging the spats between Percy and me.

"So… that was quite a show you put on an hour ago," Adam said, and it was obvious he'd originally said this.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Mark said, mimicking Rose fairly well.

The rest of us laughed, forgetting dinner. Even Rose was obviously amused. She did have a good sense of humor regarding herself.

"Right… you've completely forgotten hooking up with Flint after Potions," Adam said, remarkably like Cedar.

"The two of us did not 'hook up.' We simply decided to swap some saliva," Mark said.

"I did NOT say that!" Rose said as the rest of us cracked up.

"What are you expecting? Direct quotes?" Mark asked innocently.

"Artistic license. Keep going," Cedar encouraged.

"And are the two of you a couple now?" Adam asked, as either Tara or Joan—I wasn't sure which.

"A couple? I'll have the sucker proposing within a week—"

Mark was cut off by Rose's dinner roll hitting him in the face, which made us all laugh even harder, but ended the performance. The teasing, on the other hand, kept going. I was glad that I hadn't missed anything on the walk to the Great Hall. No one had said anything substantial about Marcus Flint. As Joan had said, we didn't have to like Flint in order to be happy for Rose. I felt horrible for doubting that my friends really meant this.

My headache went away once I had eaten something, proving Joan correct yet again. My mood improved a little as we finished giving Rose a hard time and moved on to other subjects. Lately, we had been avoiding discussing school because it inevitably led to conversations about N.E.W.T.s. We mainly talked about things that we'd done in the past. Many times the group relived events that had happened before I started hanging around with them. Sometimes I felt left out. Most of the time I had been there or had at least been aware of the events and was able to offer a different perspective for the event. During that dinner, I made sure that I was paying attention to and participating in the conversation, in case something important was discussed.

After we all got enough to eat, we started making our way out of the Great Hall. We temporarily split into two groups, based on what side of the table we'd been sitting on. My side of the table reached the doors before the other group. We stopped by the marble staircase to wait for them. As the rest caught up with us, I noticed that Percy was walking down the stairs quickly, trying to reach the Great Hall in time to have enough time to eat a decent meal. I watched him come down most of the way before turning my attention to my friends. Percy didn't do anything to suggest he'd noticed me.

I was horrible at playing it cool, but in my defense, I didn't have very good models to imitate. Oliver was looking at me worriedly, Joan and Tara were looking at me sadly, and the rest were looking anywhere but at me.

I laughed a little. "It's amazing in a castle of this size how impossible it is to avoid seeing someone."

The others laughed, relieved that I wasn't pretending as if nothing had happened… even though nothing really had happened.

"So…." Mark said. "You're back on the silent treatment. Congratulations."

I shrugged. "It's not so bad."

"No, but it's not as entertaining as when the two of you are speaking, either," he said, grinning.

I laughed. "Sorry to disappoint you. Am I ahead of Percy in your contest between the two of us? For winning our… disagreements?"

"With the point you got today in Potions, you're ahead by two points."

"I won the fight in Potions?" I asked, doubtfully.

Adam shook his head slightly. "We decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. I couldn't really follow the argument."

I started walking up the staircase, and the others followed right away. "I'll take the points however I can get them," I said, forcing myself to laugh.

By the time I reached to top of the stairs, Oliver had caught up with me. He took my hand again. I looked up at him and smiled. It struck me that Oliver had barely said a word since we'd left for dinner.

"Something wrong?" I asked quietly.

"With me?" Oliver asked.

I nodded.

He gave me an odd look. "Yes," he said. "I'm worried about you."

"Me?" I asked. "Why would you be worried about me?"

"You've been acting strangely today. Taking a nap. Missing an entire conversation."

"I was tired." I laughed dismissively. "It's no wonder with all of the extra work we've had this week."

"What about fighting with almost everyone you've talked to today?"

"I haven't—are you talking about—"

I stopped talking because I realized the rest of the Seventh Years were listening. I couldn't really blame them. Oliver and I weren't lowering our voices, and it's not as if the Seventh Years could take a different route to get to Gryffindor. I pulled Oliver to the side of the hallway, and our friends paused, uncertain whether they should keep going.

"We'll come up in a minute," I said, making myself smile.

The group exchanged perplexed looks before continuing the walk to Gryffindor Tower.

"I think the aliens got to her," I heard Adam saying.

I shook my head and turned back to Oliver. "I don't have the heart to tell him that wizards told Muggles about aliens a long time ago to try to open their minds to different types of people. It didn't go over very well. Of course, the wizards probably shouldn't have tried to prove the lie with those flying lights."

"You're changing the subject," Oliver said seriously, but smiling. "You still haven't explained why you've gotten upset with almost everyone today."

"Are you talking about that whole thing about Rose and Flint on the way back from Potions?"

"Partially."

"I shouldn't have gotten that upset," I admitted. "I should have known all of you, and especially you, wouldn't have said anything to Rose, and I'm sorry I doubted you all."

"It's OK," Oliver said in a tone that suggested that he'd never really been offended. "We all know why you would think that. I mean…."

"You mean Percy said something to me about you," I said.

"Yes," Oliver admitted.

"That was what I was really upset about." I smiled. "So there's nothing to worry about."

Oliver shook his head. "That's not what's wrong."

"What?" I asked, my smile faltering.

"I know that you being angry over that wouldn't have made you miss a conversation an hour later. It never has before."

I didn't answer.

"But I think you are pissed at Percy."

"I'm always pissed at Percy."

"Yes," Oliver admitted, sounding frustrated. "I wish you would just tell me what happened during Potions."

"What?"

"Anyone listening knew that the fight wasn't about the potion. The two of you were talking about honesty more than the potion's ingredients," Oliver said, sounding slightly guilty at admitting that he'd been eavesdropping along with the rest of the classroom.

"If you wanted to know what Percy and I were talking about, why didn't you just ask that in the first place?" I asked with irritation.

"I wasn't going to ask at all," Oliver said defensively, "but I also didn't think you were as upset about it as you clearly are."

I didn't respond. I was starting to get angry again and was focusing on not directing my anger at Oliver.

"I just want to help," he said, taking my other hand in his other.

"Sometimes I miss the days when you didn't give a damn," I muttered.

He smiled. "You don't mean that."

"No," I admitted, more begrudgingly than I really felt. "It's going to sound stupid if I explain it out loud."

"I promise not to think that it's stupid," Oliver said, still smiling. "And, if it's bothering you, it isn't stupid. And whatever is wrong is going to bother me until you tell me."

"And you'll bother me until I tell you," I said, getting more to the point.

"Probably," Oliver admitted. "Now… why are you mad at Percy?"

I took a deep breath. "Because he should have told me the truth," I said quickly, as if I'd wanted to say that for a while, and it had been pushing to get out.

"About what?" Oliver asked patiently.

"Dan."

It was obvious that Oliver hadn't been expecting this. He let go of my hands and put his hands in his pockets. Many wizards did this automatically whenever something made them nervous or caught them off guard. After all, their wands were usually in their pockets.

"What about Dan?" Oliver asked carefully, evidently not completely certain that he wanted to know the answer.

"That I had been dating him," I said, with some annoyance.

"But… you already knew that," Oliver said slowly, trying to put everything together.

"Exactly!" I said, his last statement releasing more of my resentment. "Of course I already knew! Did Percy think it would have been a surprise to me if he would have told me?"

"I doubt it," Oliver said, answering my rhetorical question.

"So, if Percy knew what I knew, why in the hell, in four years, would he never once mention it? Why, in four years, was it not important enough to even suggest to me that he knew the truth and that I wasn't protecting him from anything… that all of the times that I wanted him to understand… to know that I loved his brother, too… that I was hurting, too… all of that time that I told myself that if he knew it would…. I don't know. I guess I thought that if Percy knew I loved Dan, too, that he wouldn't be able to feel like his grief had the priority. For four years, I never told him about Dan and me so Percy's pain could always come first because Dan was his brother and best friend. And in all of that time, Percy never acknowledged my grief at all."

Even I was surprised by the amount of anger I felt over this. For a month, I had barely thought about this side of the fight I was having with Percy. I had thought that I was only angry because Percy was pissed at me for dating Oliver; all of our verbal disagreements until Potions had been centered around that. For the past month, whenever I'd thought about the fact that Percy had known about Dan and me, I'd quickly thought of something else. Potions had made it hard to keep ignoring my feelings, hence my bad mood that afternoon. Oliver pressing me on these feelings made ignoring them impossible.

While I thought about my own anger, Oliver tried to sort out everything I'd been telling him. He seemed to know that it was his turn to say something, but he still was confused over what I was talking about.

"How did Percy know you dated Dan?" he asked, eventually.

"Dan told him," I said bluntly.

"Oh," Oliver said, taken off guard again.

"Of course, Dan never told me he'd told Percy," I muttered.

"And Percy told you all of this during Potions?" Oliver asked, incredulously.

"No, of course not," I said. "I don't think he meant to tell me at all."

"When did he tell you he knew?"

"The night I told him I was dating you," I answered. "For four years, silence, and then when it looks as if I'm finally moving on…," I started muttering again.

"Are you saying that Percy used Dan to try to guilt you out of dating me?" Oliver asked, starting to sound angry himself.

I put my anger on hold long enough to think about what he'd asked. "No," I decided, unwilling to portray Percy as being that cold no matter how upset with him I was. "He wasn't trying to guilt me."

"Then why would Percy bring him up?" Oliver asked.

"I don't know. I think he was afraid I'd forgotten Dan."

"You haven't," Oliver said, not jealously—just stating a fact.

"I couldn't. But Percy wouldn't know that. He's never cared to ask," I said bitterly.

"Laura… I don't like Percy," Oliver said frankly, "but I do know some things about him. I know that Percy wouldn't have kept a secret like that from you in order to hurt you."

"I know that, but it did hurt me," I said, knowing that this form of argument was childish. "Anyway, he wasn't trying not to hurt me; he was trying to avoid hurting himself."

"But isn't that why you never told him? To avoid hurting him, I mean," Oliver said, carefully, trying to make sure that I didn't turn my anger against him.

"Yes," I said.

"Maybe he thought you never told him in order to prevent hurting yourself, too."

"It's different," I said, frustrated. "I wasn't telling him something that I thought he didn't know. He wasn't telling me something he knew I already knew." My feelings prevented me from acknowledging the weakness of the argument, not to mention that I wasn't really addressing his comment.

"I know," Oliver said, sympathetically. "I'm just saying that maybe Percy was afraid to bring it up because he thought there was a reason you never did."

"There was a reason!" I said, impatiently. I didn't think about how complicated my own feelings were, let alone my reasoning supporting these feelings. "I didn't tell him because I didn't want to add my pain to his."

"Maybe he knew that," Oliver said gently.

"So, I could take on his pain, but mine was mine alone," I said, selfishly.

Oliver didn't respond. What could he say without pissing me off?

"Oliver, do you realize how hard that first year after Dan died was?" I asked.

Oliver shook his head and looked away from me for the first time since I'd started telling him what was troubling me.

"The Weasleys were supposed to take me home the morning that Dan died, but that clearly was out of the question. By the time I shook off the initial shock of everything that had happened, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had other people to deal with and barely noticed I was still there. There were people from the Ministry and St. Mungo's…. I just wanted to leave. I sent my owl to my parents with a letter telling them that they would have to come get me, and I just had to wait for them to get my letter and drive to the Burrow.

"I didn't know what else to do, so after I sent the letter, I searched for Percy and found him in his bedroom, alone. So, I sat by him, took his hand and let him cry. I tried to get him to talk about Dan, but he wouldn't. So, we sat in silence until Bill finally came to the room to tell me my parents were downstairs.

"It was the same thing at the funeral and dinner afterwards. I sat by Percy and held his hand."

"I know," Oliver said quietly, taking his hands out of his pocket to wrap his hands around one of mine. "I was there, at the funeral."

"I didn't see Percy again until school started a month later. Everything was normal unless anyone came up to tell him they were sorry about Dan. Percy would nod until the person went away, and then he would pretend as if nothing had happened. Sometimes I would find him alone in the common room late at night or in the corner of the library, not crying, but… I don't know, something close to crying. And I sat by him and held his hand until he went on pretending like everything was normal again."

I looked down at the ground, and Oliver squeezed my hand reassuringly. I looked up into his face and decided to say what I was thinking, no matter how it made me sound. "Where was he when I needed him?"

"I don't know," Oliver said.

"I don't know, either."

Oliver reached out and brushed a piece of my hair behind my ear, touching my cheek on the way. I wasn't sure why he did it. At first, I thought maybe he was brushing away a tear, but I wasn't crying. I didn't even feel like crying. I was talking to another person about Dan, but I didn't want to cry. It still hurt to talk about it, but it didn't hurt as much as it had when I'd talked about Dan earlier in the year. I took this as further evidence that, if I would have had someone to talk to, Dan's death wouldn't have hurt as much as it had for as long as it had.

After a minute of silence, Oliver said, cautiously, "Maybe Percy did think he was protecting you by letting you think he didn't know."

"Right," I said sarcastically.

Oliver ignored my comment. "Maybe Percy thought that if you could focus on helping him, it would help you with your own pain."

"Help my pain by ignoring it?" I asked critically.

"Help your pain by directing it to something else. Help it by making something else more important than it. Help it by allowing you to move past it."

I narrowed my eyes, partially because of my suspicion of the ideas and partially because of my confusion. And maybe partially to try to block ideas that sounded a bit too close to truth for comfort.

"Maybe Percy thought he was protecting you by letting you believe that you were protecting him."

Could that be true? Had it helped me to put my pain on the backburner while focusing on how Percy was feeling? I immediately dismissed the idea. It had hurt me to act as if my pain had meant nothing. I had hated ignoring my feelings.

Yet… hadn't it been easier to think about not getting any sympathy than to think about why I needed the sympathy? Hadn't I replaced feelings of my own loss with sympathy for Percy's?

"Then, all along, when I thought I was the good friend because I was protecting Percy… it was really him protecting me," I said slowly.

"No," Oliver said quickly, squeezing my hand gently. "You were protecting him—"

"I wasn't. He already knew about Dan and me."

"Laura… what do you think you were doing every time you sat beside him and held his hand?"

I looked away from him as the thought hit me. I had never felt as if I was doing anything to help Percy during those times. I had felt as if no one could do anything for Percy, except perhaps Dan. I always felt the worst for Percy when I thought about how Dan would have been the most suited person to help Percy through losing a brother.

"You both protected each other as well as you knew how. Isn't that what best friends do?" Oliver said softly.

I looked back up at Oliver, who was smiling encouragingly. I glanced down at his hands enveloping my own hand, as if they were shielding my hand from something.

No… as if he was protecting me from something.

I took my hand back, stepped closer to Oliver, and placed my arms loosely around his neck. He quickly returned my hug, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me a little closer. I rested my head on his chest.

"Thank you," I said.

"What for?" Oliver asked.

"Protecting me," I answered. I laughed a little at myself, feeling too sentimental… and feeling a little weak for needing some protection.

Oliver laughed once or twice, too. "I'm glad I can."

I thought a bit more about what Oliver had suggested about how I had dealt with my grief after Dan died, still hugging him for some support.

"I don't know if Percy really was thinking those things you said he was," I said, finally. "I think what you said is what you think I did to deal with my grief."

Oliver didn't respond, which meant that I had guessed correctly. He'd told me what he thought I'd been feeling by using Percy as a cover, in case his ideas didn't go over well.

"Don't worry," I said, smirking, although he couldn't see that. "I'm not going to get mad at you for being right."

"I wouldn't blame you for being mad at me for saying those things, true or not," Oliver said, sounding relieved anyway.

I laughed a little. "Well, I'm not angry. Not at you, anyway."

"You're still angry at Percy?" Oliver asked.

"Yes, but not as angry. I'm not as angry with him for not telling me about Dan, at least. The two of us should have talked about that years ago… and I can't cast all of the blame on that, can I?"

"I'm going to choose not to answer that question," Oliver said.

I laughed. "Good choice." I sighed. "At least I have someone to talk to now."

"Always, Laura."

I wondered why I hadn't told Oliver sooner about Percy knowing about Dan. I'd told him about so many things that had troubled me for years. Oliver was the only one to whom I'd admitted that part of me had felt responsible for Dan's death. I'd gone to Oliver when I thought I had figured out what I needed in life to be happy. Even when the two of us were barely friends, I'd been able to tell him about my worst fear of being alone for the rest of my life.

Hadn't Oliver helped me progress past all of those things? He'd helped me see that, even though Dan might not have been in the Quidditch pitch the morning he died if I hadn't asked him to join me, it didn't mean that it was my fault he'd died. Dan had decided to meet me that morning. Dan had fallen off his broom. I had done everything I could to try to help. Dan had died. But it wasn't my fault.

And after I told Oliver that I needed Percy and him to be happy in order to be happy myself, hadn't Oliver quickly assured me that neither of them would want me to be unhappy? I had needed him to point out the obvious: no fight could be responsible for all of our problems five years later. Even if Oliver, Percy and I had gone through Hogwarts as three friends, we still would have been forced to face life. If I blamed myself for everything that went wrong in my two friends' lives, I would never have any chance to be happy myself.

I was still working on getting over my worst fear. I referred to the fear as "the fear of being alone." When I'd told Oliver about it, he had tried to tell me that there was one person for everyone. It was one of the only times Oliver's words made me feel worse, not better. After all, I was afraid of there being one person for everyone. I was afraid that "my" person had died the summer before my fourth year. Dating Oliver had made my fear subside, partially. Ultimately, I decided that Oliver had been wrong, at least as far as I was concerned. I decided that there was more than one person for me… or I was there for more than one person. One of those people had died. It was no reason for me to be lonely.

And, with time, the conversation we had just had would fall under the category of talks with Oliver that changed how I viewed my own life. Eventually, I would be able to admit that taking care of Percy, and maybe even resenting Percy a little, had helped me deal with Dan's death. It might not have been the best approach to dealing with my feelings, but it had worked, at least a little. More importantly, I saw that I had been there for my best friend when he needed me the most. That was enough to stop being angry with Percy over that situation. And hadn't Oliver helped me realize that?

Hadn't Oliver helped me see all of that?

I took a step away from Oliver, sliding my arms away from his neck, but keeping my hands on his upper arms, near his elbows.

"I love you, Oliver," I said.

It suddenly occurred to me that we had been having this conversation in a hallway that did get a heavy flow of traffic. How many people had walked by since we had started the conversation? How many people had heard bits and pieces? I looked around quickly to see if anyone was in earshot at the moment. Then it struck me that I couldn't do anything about what people had or hadn't heard. Shouldn't I be more concerned that I'd just told Oliver that I loved him?

I'd just told Oliver that I loved him? I scanned his face quickly. There was a look of surprise there. So, yes… I must have said it aloud. I continued monitoring his face as the surprise was slowly erased by a small smile.

I took this to be a good sign and smiled back. "I love you," I repeated, paying attention so I could hear myself say it. "And I have for a long time," I added.

He smiled at me a little more broadly. "I love you, too," he said.

"You do?" I asked, tears coming into my eyes. I wondered why it was that I wanted to cry more now than I had at other points in the conversation.

He laughed. "Yes, I do." He pulled me a little closer to himself. "And I have for a long time," he said quietly.

I laughed too, glad to have a reaction more suited to happiness than shedding tears. I put my arms back around his neck and kissed him.

The kiss lasted for a minute, until I heard people walking down the hallway and broke away from Oliver.

A large group of Second and Third Year Gryffindors walked past us, talking loudly amongst themselves. I wondered if they even noticed that we were standing there. Oliver and I watched them disappear around a corner, and then laughed—I wasn't sure why.

"We should probably get out of this hallway," I said, taking one of Oliver's hands in my own.

He nodded and the two of us walked back towards Gryffindor. We didn't say anything until we were almost to the Fat Lady's portrait.

"The rest of the Seventh Years are probably wondering whether we'll come back as a couple or just as friends," Oliver said, laughing a little.

"Why? Were you worried?" I asked, grinning.

He laughed, self-consciously. "I wasn't sure what you were upset about. For all I knew, you were ready to break up with me. So… yes, I was a little worried."

We reached the portrait, but neither of us gave the password.

I looked at the portrait for a few seconds, and then looked at Oliver. "You really think they're worried about us?"

Oliver shrugged. "A little."

I paused, thinking about the studying that I was going to be facing as soon as I walked into the common room. "Think they'll survive?" I asked.

Oliver laughed. "I think they'll make it."

"Would you like to take a walk?" I asked, grinning.

"That sounds like a good idea," he said, taking my hand, as the two of us walked away from the common room.

I decided to ignore what the Fat Lady was muttering to herself about people bothering her for no reason. Maybe it was just my good mood, but I didn't think she sounded as angry as she usually did when someone bothered her for no reason.




[Author's Note: When I told you all that the last chapter was difficult to write, I forgot to knock on wood. This chapter showed me some of what "difficult to write" really means.

The conversations in this chapter gave me fits! Especially difficult was the final conversation between Laura and Oliver. Suffice it to say that I have five different drafts of the conversation. Considering how much had to be revealed in just a few pages, I'm satisfied (enough) with how it turned out.

The internal conflicts that Laura had over Dan are about as resolved as they are going to get. She forgave herself for the circumstances of his death. This chapter starts the process of her accepting that Dan's death hurt her. I do think that these are two different conflicts: dealing with the death and dealing with her feelings over it. And I do think the latter would be harder for her to come to accept.

But the story is not finished! There are still conflicts to attend to and things for the characters to learn about themselves and each other.

I have to admit that Fred and George's Second Law of School Sucks was inspired by The Laws of Applied Terror. They can be found at http://www.basicquotations.com/index.php?aid=999999
If that link doesn't work, google "First Law of Applied Terror."

Thank you to all of the people who have reviewed this story! I've responded to every one (or will soon) and will continue to do so. I figure if people take the time to write a review, I should take the time to let them know I read it.

Thanks again to electronicquillster/Marie Dantes for the extra advice and entertaining e-mails. And to Rose for gently reminding me that it had been forever since I put the last chapter online.




Coming up in the next chapter: Relationships around Oliver and Laura influence their own relationship.