[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 ¾ . 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.]