Happily Ever After

Thump.

Before I came back to Hogwarts for my seventh year, one of my two fathers (I was adopted when I was only a few weeks old) warned me about my boyfriend. I put it down to my father Theo having hated my boyfriend’s father, Marcus Flint, at school, and that he was just prejudiced.

“No, Viv, it’s not prejudice,� Theo had said calmly on the platform at King’s Cross Station. “I hated Paris’ older sister, Pansy, as well, but that didn’t stop me falling in love with him. I just don’t think Russell’s good for you. Darren wasn’t either--�

I was annoyed with Theo for that. I didn’t like him talking about Darren, my first boyfriend, because it made me feel stupid and weak, and I didn’t like those emotions. I was stupidly obsessed with Darren, but Russell Flint was different. Or, at least, that’s what I told myself.

Thump.

Theo had said I was attracted to the ‘wrong sort of boy’, and I said it was none of his business who I went out with. Of course, however, it was, because he’s my father and he cares about me more than anyone, except my other father, Paris. And they eventually persuaded me to drop Darren.

I was reluctant to. Yes, he was hurting me, but he was popular and he made me feel good about myself, even though he hit me when I was late, or when I was too talkative for him. I hit him back the first time, but regretted it a few minutes later. He never apologised.

At least Russell had apologised during the first and--so I thought--last time he hit me. It had been an almost accident. He’d shaken his fist in my direction as I leant forward, but the moment his fist collided with my cheek, I saw the gleam of triumph in his eyes, as if that had cleared up the dispute between us more than words ever could.

I hadn’t told anyone that Darren or Russell had hurt me. They were both popular, both on the Quidditch teams of their respective houses, and I had few friends who would have sided with me against them. No friends I was willing to talk to about their violence, or willing to admit that I’d let him put me in that position, or that I’d annoyed him to that extent. So no one knew.

With Russell Flint, I thought I’d made a good choice, not that there was a large pool of men throwing themselves at my feet. I was just grateful that he wanted me as his girlfriend.

I thought I was more careful. I thought I was all right with Russell. I was pretty surprised he liked me. He was gorgeous, captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, and though we were in the same year, we’d never really talked and had taken different NEWTs. So in May, when he asked me out, I was surprised and flattered.

And now here I was, being beaten. By Russell. Again.

Thump.

“I saw you smiling at him.�

“I wasn’t--� I tried to say, but then--

Thump.

“Yes, you fucking were.�

In the Quidditch changing rooms, I’d been waiting for Russell at the door, but he hadn’t come out with the rest of his team. Zoe Creevey, the Beater, had told me he was in a foul mood, having missed several catches which he should have made, but I was his girlfriend and wanted to be with him in his misery. Now, I wished I hadn’t. He had thrown a punch as soon as I entered the room, knocking me to the ground. Then he had told me why, and then he had dragged me up by my hair and thumped me in my jaw. I was struggling for my wand, but Russell grabbed my hand, twisting it behind my back. The last time he’d done this, I’d kneed him in the groin and made a run for it, so this time he sandwiched me between himself and the wall, my face pressed against the cold stone.

“You fucking slut,� he hissed into my ear.

I took a deep breath and spoke calmly. “I’m not a slut. I don’t know who you think I was looking at, but I only had eyes for you.�

“Had? Had? Had eyes for me?�

“If you’d stop thumping me, then maybe I’d continue to.�

That was stupid. I’d been going out with him for a few months now; I should have known he did not like me ‘blackmailing’ him, as he called it, and he didn’t like me being ‘brave’ with him, as he also called it. The next worst thing about it was the very fact that I knew this proved Theo right. I loved my dads very much but I had worked out a few years ago that while Paris was kinder, gentler and also naïve, Theo was astute and nearly always--annoyingly--right.

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want!� Russell shouted.

I felt a whimper in my throat but bit it back. He’d yanked up my robes and was pulling down my knickers, ignoring my struggles. This was going too far; he was being too--arrogant. Russell was not even bothering to clamp my mouth, as he’d learned that I had my pride and didn’t like shouting for help.

“Get off her, Flint.�

It was Augustus Macmillan, Head Boy. I recognised his voice, which was more bored than worried. His mother and my father, Paris, had been raised together, although they were not actually related, so we’d known each other slightly before Hogwarts. We’d played in each other’s gardens and bedrooms, but when we were around eight, Paris and Augustus’ mother had argued and we hardly ever saw each other outside Hogwarts.

Augustus was--strange. There was something rather old-fashioned about him, as he was always polite and courteous but also quiet.

His voice had caused Russell to stop moving, but he was still pressed against me. Now that someone else was here, my heartbeat was slowing, and the blood was no longer pounding in my head.

“Leave, before I dock points.�

Augustus had been a curious appointment to Head Boy, but now, listening to the quiet authoritativeness of his tone, I could see why.

Russell still had not moved and when he swore at Augustus, I could feel his breath, hot and heavy, on the back of my neck. “Macmillan--fuck off.�

Augustus’ voice, by contrast, was cool as frost. “Twenty points from Slytherin. Unless you want it to be fifty, leave.�

Russell growled and then released me. I remained facing the wall, pulling my knickers up and adjusting my robes but not daring to turn around until I heard the door slam behind him. I hoped Augustus would have left as well, but when I turned around, he hadn’t.

“Are you all right?� he said calmly. He had pale brown skin, he was about my height and he was broad shouldered. His features were quite soft and malleable, and the few times I’d seen him smile, it broke his face in two. But his eyes were strange. I remembered his mother having beautiful dark brown eyes, but his were pale green and looked somehow otherworldly.

“I’m fine, thank you,� I said, brushing down my robes. This seemed a strange place to be talking to him. To be talking to anyone. I just wanted to be alone, and I wished that he’d leave.

“Good. Do you want me to inform your Head of House--?�

“No,� I interrupted him. “No, please don’t.�

“All right.� There was something hesitant about his speech, as if he wanted to say something else. I raised an eyebrow, asking silently if there was anything else. His lips tweaked in a half smile, but they did not part, and he said, “Are you going to leave him?�

“That’s none of your business,� I said, walking across the room and passing him in the doorway.

“That’s a no, then. You should.�

I stopped walking for a second. It was a cold afternoon and dusk was falling. I shivered, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. How was I so sure that I shouldn’t leave him? I remembered the feel of his hand against me, how hot and angry it felt, and what he’d been about to do. If I left him, then somehow, that would mean he’d hurt me. He hadn’t. I was strong enough to make sure that he did not do that again, and if he did, then that would be over. I’d get to my wand quicker, or use my fists and teeth against him.

And it felt nice being with him. Was that wrong? He made me feel secure and beautiful and I liked that. And if I left him because he’d beaten me, then that would be the same as what had happened with Darren. I didn’t like this. I hated stasis; I hated feeling as if I was not going somewhere, and I hated the idea of being one of those women who was trapped in a cycle. Which, if I left Russell, I would be. As well as being a piece of gossip, to be dissected by the student body.

Paris said that I thought too much. I’d expected Theo to disagree with him, but Theo had said that sometimes, thinking too much was a bad thing, and life was just easier if things remained simple. Life would be easier if I acted before I thought, but that would be too spontaneous for me.

I wasn’t leaving him. Suddenly I felt bad, as if I had in some way disappointed Augustus. But why should that matter? I didn’t mind disappointing anyone else, except my parents, which was why there was no chance of me telling either Paris or Theo about this.

I did, however, say, “Thank you,� to Augustus before walking back from the changing rooms to the Slytherin common room.

The next morning, I avoided Russell in the common room, in the Great Hall and in the corridors between classrooms; an easy enough thing if he hadn’t been looking for me, but as it was, it took work. I had a free afternoon, so I took my usual shortcut from the bottom of the Astronomy Tower to the dungeons. I think I did it on purpose, because I knew I was only delaying the inevitable in avoiding him, so by taking my usual route, I knew he’d be waiting for me.

However, when I saw him, I changed my mind, pushing past him. He grabbed my hand, saying, “Viv, listen to what I have to say. Just give me two minutes.�

I stared at him for a few seconds. He was gorgeous, and he’d always been kind to me, except when he was beating me. He’d only done it twice. Two incidents, rather than two punches, but nevertheless. I’d heard of worse men�and women.

“All right,� I said, gulping, and leading him slowly back into the secret passage, thinking that it would be easier to have this conversation in the darkness. As soon as the concealed door closed behind us, however, Russell gave up on words and kissed me.

I know I should have told him to fuck off. I know that. But I didn’t. I kissed him and felt him breathe a sigh of relief as he muttered apologies between gentle kisses which became progressively more probing. This was probably the real reason Russell had wanted to hit me. The night before the match, we had been in a secret passage, kissing, and then he’d moved his hand to the edge of my robes, slowly pulling it upwards.

I hadn’t liked that. I’d slept with Darren and I hadn’t enjoyed it, and while I’d heard enough girls’ gossip to know that it could vary, I still didn’t feel comfortable with it. Russell had been okay with that for the first few months, but now I think he wanted something more, and I hadn’t been willing to do it the night before the match. And so, pretending to be angry at me for looking at someone else, he had beaten his frustrations at losing the match into me, and then tried to take me by force. He would not have done it, though, even if Augustus had not showed up.

He wouldn’t have done it. Would it have hurt? Would I have enjoyed it? Was I enjoying this?

Yes. Even if I was shrinking back slightly as his hands moved, not down to the edge of my skirt, but upwards.

Russell, this time, seemed to realise, stepping back slightly and kissing my forehead.

“I’m so sorry, Viv. You are beautiful, you know.� He had to be lying. I was not beautiful, but he wanted to kiss me. That must mean he thought I was. When I did not reply, he said, awkwardly, “How--how did you cover them up? The bruises.�

I was quiet for a few seconds, before saying, “I know a few spells. When Darren and I--he hurt me.�

“I’m not Darren,� he said furiously. “I will never hurt you again, understand?�

Darren had never said sorry, or asked for redemption, which made Russell the better man. And it felt nice and secure being in his arms. This was not history repeating itself; this was me and Russell, growing up, which felt nice. It felt good.

I saw Augustus in Transfiguration the next day, and he just nodded to me and I nodded in return. He smiled his weird half-smile and looked back at the front of the class.

Russell and I were happy together, and apart from talking about lessons, Augustus and I did not talk much. I occasionally felt him looking at me, although he looked away the second I met his eyes. Although in our encounter in the changing rooms he had not been over-protective or too judgemental, I felt like he was being paternal rather than friendly, and I did not like it.

However, that changed the day before the Christmas holidays started. There was a party in the Slytherin common room, where Russell got very drunk and rather lecherous. Fortunately, he passed out before he became too aggressive, and I and a few friends helped him back to the dorm.

I returned to the common room but immediately regretted it. Someone made a grab to dance with me, not because I was pretty but because I was Russell’s and therefore presented more of a challenge. I wanted to get away from the noise, from the jollity and general drunkenness, so I sneaked out. No-one noticed. I’m not the loudest, prettiest or most popular person in the world and I know very well how to go unnoticed. It’s something, however, that you can be too good at.

I was walking down one corridor when I saw someone walking down it, towards me. I made to dash, but Augustus said, “Don’t go,� and I stopped. When he reached me, it surprised me to see how tired he looked, even in that dim light.

“You’re Head Boy,� I said, smiling. “You should dock points.�

“Would that bother you?� I just shrugged, and he laughed before saying, “Shouldn’t Russell be keeping you company?�

There was a slight edge to his tone which did not surprise me. Guys were either Russell’s best friends or they hated him, and I had never seen Augustus and Russell exchange more than a few words. “You don’t like him?�

“No, I don’t. And you could do better.�

I laughed, saying, with a bitterness which surprised me, “No, I can’t. He is gorgeous.�

“He’s a dickhead.�

His tone was so violent that I shuddered, and wondered if there was history between him and Russell. I was rather shaken, and to hide it, I said, “I’ve never heard you swear.�

“Well, I’m not in a good mood,� he snapped, and I flinched. “I’m sorry. I’m--I’ve had some bad news. I’m looking forward to Christmas.�

“So am I.�

Augustus had sat down on the cold stone, pulling a packet of cigarettes from his pocket. He didn’t actually smoke one, but took one out and fiddled with it. He had very long fingers, and the way he twisted the cigarette between his fingers was so elegant that I couldn’t take my eyes off it.

“Want one?� he asked.

I shook my head, and instead asked, “Mind if I join you?�

“I’d be delighted,� he said, gesturing to the stone beside him and I sat down.

We sat in silence for a few moments. I liked the castle at this time of night. We could hear the distant footsteps, and somewhere, a tap dripping, and the creak of suits of armour.

I liked our silence. It was companionable rather than awkward, and unusually for me, I suddenly asked, without thinking of my words beforehand, “Why was your day bad?�

He looked at me in surprise, and I said, feeling myself blush, “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.�

“No,� he replied calmly. “It isn’t. I just miss my parents and my father isn’t that well. Our parents used to be good friends, didn’t they? We got on well.�

I shrugged. “We were children. Most children get on. I never worked out why we stopped going around to each other’s houses.�

Augustus’ lips twitched slightly, provoking me into a smile just for managing to please him that much, and then I felt a rush of guilt. Russell wouldn’t like it if he saw me here. Bugger Russell; he may be my boyfriend but I wasn’t going to do anything with Augustus. We were just sitting here and talking, and that was not a crime.

“Mum told me why last summer,� he said. “She cheated on Father, and Paris saw her. Paris argued with her about it, telling her she should tell him, and she refused. Your other father decided to tell Dad anyway. Dad and I left her for a few months, but he forgave her eventually. It was the first time she’d cheated on him. Not that cheating is right, but with every other partner she’d had, she was a serial cheater.�

“You know a lot about your mother.�

“I love my mother very much. She’s honest with me.� I loved how placid he was. He spoke thoughtfully, caring about each word and never wasting one of them. He reminded me of myself, thinking everything through, and lacking in spontaneity, which was not as bad as some people seemed to think.

“I’m looking forward to seeing her again. I miss them. I always meant to ask--how did your parents adopt you? It must have been rather complicated.�

I laughed. I did not know why he made me laugh so easily. I think it was because we were so relaxed with each other, and there was nothing riding on our conversation. He had seen me at my most vulnerable, and therefore I had nothing to prove to him.

“That’s putting it lightly. They wanted a child and preferably a magical one because they didn’t think it would be kind to raise a Muggle child in the magical world. They were looking around for a few years but everyone had a friend or family member they can go to. A Muggle--she was only sixteen years old--tried to kill herself and her baby by jumping from the fourth floor of a shopping centre. The baby--I bounced. I had no-one and was about to go into the Muggle system, but an Obliviator remembered that Theo and Paris were looking for a child, and so they adopted me.�

“Did you have a name before they adopted you?�

I nodded. “But I had to ‘die’ according to the Muggle system. When I was sixteen, they told me my original name was Peaches, after some Muggle celebrity at the time. But they changed it to Vivien, and I think it’s much nicer. Vivien was the name of Theo’s best friend’s mother. Augustus is a nice name, as well.�

“Well, my older sister is named after my father’s mother, so Mum named me after a very old friend of her father.� He glanced at his watch. “We should go back to our dorms.�

“We should.�

But we stayed there, sitting in silence for several minutes before Augustus stood, extended a hand to help me up, and then we walked to the end of the corridor together. We said goodnight and walked to our separate common rooms.

I enjoyed the Christmas holidays. I liked being with my fathers and I missed home more than most people at Hogwarts, I think. From our short conversation, I suspected Augustus felt the same way.

When I mentioned to Theo and Paris--not that Augustus had stopped Russell from beating me up--but that Augustus and I had talked, they both laughed. I asked why, and it made me blush and smile.

After the holidays, Russell and I still got on, though Russell was even more eager to get me into bed, something I was unwilling to do for reasons I wasn’t quite sure of. I was getting increasingly unwilling, and I wasn’t sure what had changed.

We had an argument shortly after term started. Russell did not hit me, but I could see in his eyes that he was only just stopping himself from doing so.

I wanted to be alone, so I went wandering in the corridors. I’d been walking for maybe quarter of an hour, when I heard someone crying. I tentatively opened the door and was surprised to see Augustus. It looked wrong, seeing him crying. He wasn’t just sobbing; his shoulders were shaking and the noise he was making was harsh and painful.

“Are you--� I had intended to say “Are you all right?� but when he so obviously wasn’t, it seemed a rather trite thing to say. Instead, I sat down next to him, and put my hand on his shoulder.

He stilled for a few moments, before he continued to cry. I didn’t know what to do, other than to stay there, with one hand on his shoulder. Suddenly, he moved so his head was resting on my chest and all I could do was hug him close.

That night, he did not tell me what was wrong. It was only several months later that he told me his father, Ernie, had been given only a few years to live.

I wondered if this was what Augustus had expected me to do when he stopped Russell from hitting me. Break down and cry into his arms? Maybe that was what he had wanted all along--after all, I was beginning to think that Augustus fancied me. I’d caught him looking at me more often and it no longer appeared paternal.

How could I be thinking this when he was in tears? How dare I? He was upset, and that was all that mattered.

When he stopped crying, he looked up. I wiped the tears from his cheeks, not asking him why. Then he stood up and I walked him to the Ravenclaw common room. He didn’t say a word.

The next day, however, I was walking to my next lesson when Augustus passed me by. He just grabbed my hand, squeezing it for a second, before walking on, and that was all.

When I turned the corner, I felt Russell’s hand on my shoulder. I smiled up at him, but he was glaring at me, and I could not think what I’d done wrong. I had a lesson to go to, but he grabbed my wrist and dragged me away from the castle, ignoring my protests, although I wasn’t trying too hard. There was something sadomasochistic about it, but I wanted to see just how far he would go, without me knowing exactly why I felt this way.

We were by the greenhouses. There was a NEWT lesson comprised of a few students in one, but the other was empty and he pulled me into it.

After being in the cold, the warmth of the greenhouse was something of a shock, and I felt my cheeks flush with the sudden change of temperature.

“What was that?� Russell hissed, grabbing my shoulders and pressing my back against one of the pillars supporting the roof of the greenhouse. The plants smelt damp, fresh and fertile and I could feel my heart beating faster. Did I enjoy this? No. I also felt nausea in the back of my throat and a hint of guilt. But what did I have to feel guilty about?

“With Augustus fucking Macmillan?�

“We’re friends.�

“Friends, my arse, you don’t have friends.� He suddenly clamped his lips to my neck, and I cried out, but at the same time lifted my knee, kicking Russell’s groin. He fell back, and glared at me in bruised surprise, shocked that I’d reacted. I saw his hand slide to his pocket, but I flicked my wand and his flew into my outstretched hand.

“I’ll give it back to you in the common room,� I said, taking deep breaths so that I spoke clearly. “You can’t do this to me. If you don’t want me anymore, leave me, but stop hurting me.�

Russell’s lip curled, as he straightened and stepped towards me.

“Vivien. Think very carefully, and give me my wand. Don’t be hasty--�

“I’m not being hasty,� I said quickly. “You’ve done this before, and you can’t do it again. You can’t.�

He just glared at me before storming off. I thought about going to my lesson but decided to give it a miss, and having given Russell five minutes to get back to the castle, I began to follow on. However, before I’d even passed the greenhouses, I saw Augustus.

“Were you following me?� I demanded.

“No,� he said, though I could tell he was lying. He realised I knew as well, and he said, awkwardly, “Well, I saw Russell, and he looked angry.�

“I can look after myself,� I said, forcing myself to smile as if everything was all right, and walking past him, but once again, Augustus wanted the final word.

“Why are you with him? I’m not saying you should be with someone else; you don’t need anyone else. I’m saying you shouldn’t be with him.�

He was right. I hadn’t expressed it to myself in quite that fashion, but I did like the feeling of having a boyfriend. And it would be cruel to drop Russell so suddenly. After all, he’d thought I was rather pathetically willing to put up with it all just for the honour of being with him, and now he knew I no longer was, so we were even. Weren’t we?

I think Augustus was hoping that I would make the right decision, but I did not make the right decision in the way he defined that word, and the next day, Russell and I were together again.

It was a Hogsmeade weekend in February, and Russell and I had had an awkward day. I’d never wanted to dump someone I still cared about before. It was wrong to care about someone who had tried to hurt me, but I knew if he hurt me again, then I would find it so easy, I would be shocked that I’d ever found the thought of it difficult. But I did; I found this momentous and I wasn’t sure why. Making a mountain out of a molehill might be a speciality of mine, but this was stupid.

We had returned to just outside the Slytherin common room when I said, “Russell, we need to talk.�

“About what?� he snapped.

“About us. It needs to stop.�

He glanced around, worried about our fellow pupils listening, and then grabbed my hand and led me into a classroom, slamming the door behind him.

“What do you want, then?� he demanded. He already knew, and seemed to think that by behaving as though he did not, then I’d change my mind.

I could not look at him as I said, “I care for you a great deal--�

“Then why won’t you let me fuck you?�

“Russell!�

“Russell what, exactly?� he snapped, walking towards me, and suddenly I felt scared. I’d always taken a sort of perverse enjoyment in goading him, and Darren, even when I’d also hated the idea of anyone else finding out.

“Don’t you dare hurt me--� I began to say, feeling my heart beat faster and feeling myself start to panic. I tried to get my wand out, but he’d already got his and I couldn’t move.

I felt more terrified then, then I’d ever had before. I couldn’t speak; I couldn’t even struggle. I was completely helpless, and I suddenly hated Russell. Maybe I’d just been afraid of him, and just pretended that I liked having him on my arm, that I liked him liking me, when really it was just fear of what he’d do when I threatened to leave him.

Which was what he was doing now, kissing me and bruising my lips.

I saw the door open before Russell did. Augustus must have been following me; this could not be a coincidence, as there was no such thing as fate or history repeating itself in any sort of way.

Augustus didn’t stop him straight away. His eyes met mine, as if he was checking that I wanted Russell to be stopped, almost as if that was the only possible explanation Augustus could think of for me letting Russell hurt me the way he had and now was.

My eyes must have been pretty desperate because Augustus flicked his wand briskly, and Russell was thrown backwards. Russell then glanced from me to Augustus and managed to spit, “I should’ve fucking known, I always knew you were a slut--� before I picked up my wand and Silenced him. He snarled inaudibly, and then stumbled out of the room.

Augustus just folded his arms, looking at me, before saying calmly, “This is the third time I’ve caught him trying to hurt you, or succeeding in hurting you. You should leave him.�

I didn’t like being told what to do. I didn’t think Russell had realised that’s what he didn’t like about me. In fact, I think the only thing he liked about me was that I was a girl and wanted him so badly that I’d kiss him without much persuasion, and put up with him beating me. That was all.

“Don’t lecture me. I’ll do what I want.�

“Then let me do what I want--� He stepped across the room, touched my upper arms and brought his lips to mine. He was so gentle and I felt myself shivering and then melting in his arms, before I realised I was still--technically--with Russell and that this was cheating, and whatever Russell had said or done, I hated that thought. I pushed him away.

“I’m sorry,� he said, hands moving from my body. “I just had to do that. I think you’re amazing.�

I laughed nervously. “I’m not amazing. I’m weak and--�

“No. I mean you should leave him, and maybe your motivations for remaining with him are essentially pathetic, but I admire your strength. The way you don’t let anyone in, the way you deal with your problems yourself, but it infuriates me because I--�

He stopped, clearly feeling as if he had said too much, perhaps, and turning a delicate shade of pink.

“I’m--� I was speaking awkwardly. “I’m with Russell.� I thought I was. Neither of us had properly finished with each other, and the idea of even the possibility of cheating on Russell made my skin crawl. “We’re together, at the moment.�

“I know. I’m sorry to have put you in a difficult position.�

I stared at him for a few moments, before pointing at him, and ordering him to stay where he was. At the door, I glanced back and saw that he’d sat on the teacher’s chair, head in his hands.

And, suddenly, everything seemed so simple. I wish I’d always felt that life was this simple. As I walked through the Slytherin common room, a few people shouted my name, but I ignored them. Roxanne even went so far as to put her hand on my arm and tell me Russell looked furious, and I’d do best to avoid him. I thanked her, but I’d made up my mind, and the decision and the certainty that this, finally, was the right decision made my feet continue their way to his room.

He was sitting on his bed, talking to three of his other roommates. When he saw me he just scowled and said, “If you want forgiveness--�

“I want nothing of the sort.�

Russell glanced from his friends to me, before sliding off his bed and walking towards me. I was staring at him as if with new eyes. How could I have thought him attractive? His mouth, that had said foul things to me, his hand that had hit me, both seemed suddenly monstrous, even though they were perfectly formed.

“You don’t want forgiveness.�

“No. It’s over, Russell.�

He laughed. He laughed. “You don’t mean that.�

“I do.� I was leaning against the door, and I could sense more than one person in the corridor behind me. I didn’t care. “You hit me, Russell Flint, and you tried to rape me, more than once.� I heard the gasp from the corridor, and felt a sense of satisfaction the equal to if I had punched him myself, at the look of surprise on his face.

This surprise turned into a snarl, as he stormed across the room, saying, “You fucking liar!� with his hand raised. I was far enough from his bed that he realised what he was doing before he reached me. I just raised an eyebrow.

“Goodbye Russell,� I said, turning away and walking through the crowd. A girl, in fifth year I thought, said to me that he’d hit her as well, but she’d been too scared to speak out. I’d been scared too, but I was scared no longer.

In the short walk from the Slytherin common room to the classroom, I had been thinking about this. I’d thought about it being slow, romantic and sexy, and I’d imagined myself sliding along the desk and clasping his face in my hands. But I was too impatient, suddenly, walking across the room to where he was seated and bending down into a kiss.

He leapt up, embracing me tightly and then we kissed.

I thought the world could have ended and we would still have been kissing. Nothing else mattered except me and him; him and me and the world, at that moment, seemed perfect. I was sitting on his lap and was content just to kiss him, and he was content to just kiss me.

“You are so beautiful,� he whispered, sitting up straight. I’d never really believed anyone, other than my fathers and they had to say that, but I believed him.

He kissed my neck and then whispered, “Can you remember when we talked about our names?� I nodded. I was not used to a guy interrupting a kiss with conversation, and I was intrigued, leaning back and staring at him. “I asked my mother. I was named for Petra’s ex-girlfriend’s father, Augustus Rookwood. And you were named for Theo’s best friend’s mother, Vivien Rookwood. Did you know that?�

I smiled. “Yes, I know that. The ex-girlfriend and the best friend were the same person. Igraine Rookwood, daughter of Augustus and Vivien. They were in love. But for vast parts of their life, they weren’t happy.�

“We will be,� he said. He sounded so confident that I was sure in that moment he meant it; even if it might not happen, at least the will for it to work is there. Augustus would never hurt me; Augustus would not be one of those men to love me one minute and be raging with jealousy the next. He was too calm, too in control of himself for that, and maybe a little control was what I needed. And he needed a little more passion and affection.

And so here we were, Vivien Nott and Augustus Macmillan, however many years after Vivien LaMotte and Augustus Rookwood were having a wild affair, and I thought, just maybe, this--possibly--could be, love.

You never know. Things may tend towards little bits of history repeating themselves but perhaps, just occasionally, you can get a happy ever after. At least, I hope so.