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Chapter Text

Chapter 1

“Apollo, have you seen my wand?”

“No. Why do you need it anyway?" he replied, his legs hanging off the end of his bed. He had grown another several inches that summer. "You know we’re not allowed to use magic outside of school. Even in this country.”

“Yes, I know,” said Fiona, rummaging about the small room she shared with her twin brother. “I'm visiting the ministry with Mom today and they may need to see my wand for identification or something.” She continued to shuffle around, searching through boxes that remained unpacked in hopes of uncovering her wand. Apollo finally put his book down, turning his icy blue eyes to look at Fiona. She always took note of how he had his mother’s eyes. She used to tease him for it and call him “Mommy’s boy”, which he truly was at one point. But being both fifteen and stuck in a new small apartment in London, he could hardly get enough time away from her.

“Are you even allowed in the ministry?” he asked, his eyebrow cocked. Fiona knew he was looking for a fight and tried to ignore him but he continued. “Maybe you should brush your hair first,” he sneered. “You don’t want to make a first impression on all those fancy wizards looking like that.”

Fiona scowled at him as she tried to smoothen her unruly curly blonde hair. “Screw you." Apollo laughed and returned to his book. After a few more minutes of searching, Fiona’s final attempt was to look in her a jewelry box her grandmother had gifted her. Lifting the wooden lid, her dark wand laid comfortably on the red velvet interior. “Yes I found it!”

“Goodie,” Apollo said sarcastically as he turned a page in his book.

Fiona took a good look at her wand to make sure there were no scratches. Her wand, a ten inch mahogany made with unicorn hair, seemed to be intact. “You know if you’re so bored that you have to try picking a fight with me, why don’t you just come to the ministry with us,” she suggested, placing her wand in her bag.

“No thanks. Mom’s really pissing me off today.” Apollo said, not looking away from his book.

“We could ditch her when it gets boring and walk around Diagon Alley.”

“Why would we be walking diagonally?” He replied, finally looking up from his book.

Fiona snickered and shook her head. “No, Diagon Alley. It’s the wizarding part of London. Anyways, we need stuff for school since we leave in a few weeks.”

“No thanks, again,” He said shortly, returning to his book.

“Apollo, please…” Fiona pouted her lip like a child in hopes Apollo would give in. As children, she and her brother were closer. Somewhere along their time at Ilvermorny, things changed. And even though they shared a room this summer, it still hadn’t returned to the way things were. Nonetheless, she would attempt pathetic gestures of pleading against him.

“Alright fine, but try to keep Mom from talking to me too much. I can’t with her today,” He said, putting his book down and lacing up his shoes. He, too, looked for his wand and slid it in his pocket. With the several inches he had grown over the summer, he towered over Fiona. It made her a bit jealous. Afterall, she was born first... Fiona took his hand and dragged him to the living room where Mrs. Jackson was packing the last few things she planned to bring to the office.

“Look who’s coming with us!” Fiona said, hoping her mother would be excited.

“Apollo! I’m so glad you’re getting out today,” Mrs. Jackson replied, looking pleased.

“Whatever,” Apollo scoffed. Fiona elbowed him in the gut. Not only was there a strain between Fiona and her brother, but since they packed up and moved across the pond, things hadn’t been the same between Apollo and their mother either.

Fiona wasn’t sure why her mother had dragged her kids with her to England, especially since both she and Apollo attended a boarding school. But something deep down told her that her Mother, whether by premonition or motherly instinct, didn’t really have a choice. After Mrs. Jackson finished packing and pulling on her jacket, she took out her wand and pointed it at the wall in the living room where a fireplace soon appeared.

“Not floo powder,” Apollo groaned. “Isn’t there, like, a train we can take? Traveling by floo powder makes my hair all frizzy.”

“Hey then maybe you’ll finally look like me!” Fiona replied sarcastically.

“No, sorry" Mrs. Jackson said, stepping into the fireplace. "It’s apparition or floo powder, and since neither of you are seventeen yet, it looks like we’re using floo powder today." Fiona grabbed Apollo’s hand and stepped in, and then held Mrs. Jackson’s as she chanted “Ministry of Magic”. Bright green flames burned before their eyes and next thing they knew they were in the ministry. It was nothing like their mother’s previous employer MACUSA, which was made entirely of marble, and modeled after many of the great Roman architectures of the ancient past. Instead, the ministry had dark green tiles with very high ceilings. There were layers and layers of offices, and rows and rows of fireplaces that other wizards use to commute to their work. In the center sat a huge fountain that highlighted the importance of the ministry.

“Little much, don’t you think?” Apollo said, grimacing as he took it in. “I mean, they really took ‘dark and serious’ to heart when they built this place.”

“Please, there’s nothing that can top the dramatics of the MACUSA. That place is over the top,” Fiona replied, catching up to Mrs. Jackson who had already made her way to what looked like an elevator.

“Hurry guys, I have a meeting with my new boss in twenty minutes,” Mrs. Jackson said, hardly looking back. They made their way to the golden elevator-looking devices, a tall, scrawny bellboy inside. He opened the caged-door just as Mrs. Jackson approached him.

“Hi, does this elevator go to-”

“This is a lift, ma’m,” the strange bell boy interrupted in a funny British accent. Both Fiona and Apollo scowled at the bell boy's swift interjection. who cares, Fiona thought

“Uh, right. Sorry," Mrs. Jackson replied, smiling awkwardly, "Does this lift go to the department of international magical co-operation?”

“This lift goes to anywhere in the ministry you’d like, ma’am,” the man said, looking down at her over his nose.

“Great, we’d like to go there please.” They all entered the elevator, or “lift” as the bellboy quickly corrected. The gate closed and the lift jerked up, down, and side to side. Finally, when it felt like Fiona might be sick, the lift stopped and an automated voice recited “Department of International Magical Co-Operation”. Mrs. Jackson, Apollo and Fiona stumbled out, all looking a shade of green similar to the tiled walls. Mrs. Jackson straightened herself and navigated her way to her new office. It was small, but Fiona assumed it was perfect enough for one person. One wall was made entirely of glass, overlooking the main floor they entered from. Fiona looked down at all of the business men and women, looking like little ants bustling to their next meetings. Mrs. Jackson pulled out her wand and, with a wave, assembled some of her belongings, as Apollo helped unpack some boxes by hand.

“There. Now we have a few minutes to spare. What shall we do?” Mrs. Jackson said, hoping Apollo would want to instigate some fun activity with her. He used to be good at making fun of any situation, but lately he just moped. To her disappointment, Apollo shrugged. Fiona stepped in quickly.

“Well, Apollo and I were gonna go to Diagon Alley to get some stuff for school,” She said as she watched Apollo. He stared at the floor.

“Right, I suppose you guys don’t want to just sit around here all day,” Mrs. Jackson replied. “I’ll give you some money. Do you have the list of things you will need? You’ll probably want to get an owl for post. I’m not sure Hogwarts will provide you with one. Oh... this is as much as I have. Do you think that will be enough for the both of you? If you need more I can see if I can get out of my meeting early to go get more money for you–”

“Mom, we’ll be fine. Go to your meeting. I have some money on me and I think Fiona does too,” Apollo interrupted his mother. It was the most he had addressed her in days. Even though it wasn’t much, it was enough to calm Mrs. Jackson down.

“Okay,” their mother sighed. “Fiona, would you be able to add celery to your list? I want to make soup tonight.” Fiona nodded and smiled. Her mother kissed her on her forehead, but hesitated when she turned to Apollo. Instead, she just held his hand delicately, smiled, and left her office for the meeting. There was a fireplace in the corner of Mrs. Jackson’s office that Fiona and Apollo used to get to Diagon Alley. It was their first time in Diagon Alley and it was more than she'd ever imagined. Quite different from Incant Square in New York City, that hosted enchanted jumbotrons and magical businesses in skyscrapers, Diagon Alley was a more humble and antique street, winding buildings of various colors lining the road, yet wearing away from all the centuries they had been there. However, it was as crowded as Incant Square would be.

“Okay," Fiona began as she read her list, trying hard to weave through the crowd. "We need… uniforms, cauldron, books for defense against the dark arts, potions, charms, transfiguration, herbology, and history.”

“That’s one hell of a list,” Apollo said, placing his hands in his pockets.

“And that doesn’t even count for the two electives we need to take,” Fiona replied, rolling her eyes.

“I’m not taking electives. I’m trying out for quadball.”

“Is that even allowed?” Fiona said, looking up at him. Apollo shrugged. "And they call it quidditch here."

Apollo groaned. "First an elevator is a lift, an apartment is called a flat, and now quadball is called quidditch. What's next? Fries are called Dinglehippies?"

"Actually, they're called chips," Fiona said, a slight smirk leaving her face.

"Oh, whatever," Apollo said, trudging forward through the crowd.

They made their way through each store in Diagon Alley and collected the items that they needed. Their last stop was the book store. Fiona found the books she and Apollo both needed while he looked at some of the wizard fiction books on display. She was halfway through her book list when she bumped into a very friendly ginger.

“A great book, that one!” the friendly voice chirped behind her. Fiona turned to see a tall ginger man smiling down at her.

“Yes, well the no-maj are fascinating,” She replied with a smile.

“No-maj? You must be an American!” the balding man said with a smile.

“Well-spotted,” she added, using her best, though barely adequate, British accent. She cringed a little at her horrible attempt but the man didn't seem to care. He chuckled and stuck his hand out for a shake.

“Arthur Weasley. I work in the Department of Muggle Affairs at the ministry”.

“Oh, the ministry!" she said as she shook his hand, "My mother just started at the Department of International Magical Co-Operation. We just moved here.”

“Harassing more people to take muggle studies are you, Dad?” said an approaching voice. A younger, yet spitting image of Arthur stood behind him. The tall ginger boy turned to Fiona, his kind blue eyes smiling. “He’s a bit of a freak about muggles, is all.” Fiona chuckled.

“George, this is… Oh, I never got your name,” Arthur said.

“It’s Fiona. Fiona Jackson,” Fiona said, keeping her eyes on the younger ginger who’s name she now knew to be George.

“Ah, Fiona Jackson! Well, Fiona just moved here from America. I'm assuming you’ll be starting at Hogwarts in a few weeks?” Arthur asked.

“Yep, I'll be in my fifth year. Though it’s technically my first year at Hogwarts,” she replied.

“Well, welcome to London, and welcome to Hogwarts. Do you need any more help finding your books?” George said, stepping in front of Arthur, clearly eager to take over the conversation.

“Well, I still need to decide what other electives I want to take.”

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Fiona,” Arthur said as he started in the opposite direction.

“That’s easy, take divination. That class is sort of a joke anyway so I reckon it’ll be easy for you.” Fiona didn’t think the art of divination was a joke, especially since she herself had premonitions, but she smiled anyway. “Sorry about my Dad. He’s really into muggles,” George said as he scratched the back of his head.

“No worries, it was nice chatting with him,” she added. Moments of silence lingered over them before Fiona found something else to say. “So, what books do I need for divination?” Suddenly, another tall ginger, identical to George, appeared. Did everyone in England look like that?

“Who’s your new friend, Georgie?” the twin asked.

“Her name’s Fiona, she’s from America,” George replied with a grin.

“‘Name’s Fred,” he said holding his hand out for a shake. “I'm Georgie's twin brother, but I’m way more handsome.”

“It’s a pleasure," Fiona chuckled and shook his hand. "You know, I am also a twin? I have a brother named Apollo. He’s around here somewhere looking very thoughtful and serious, I’m sure." She peered around the twins in search for him, but he must have been in the back of the store.

“He’s out to be the mysterious type, I reckon,” George replied, catching the eye of his father, who was waiting by the door. “Well we have to get going but we’ll see you in September at Kings Cross. Save you a seat on the train?”

“That’d be perfect,” Fiona smiled. The tall boys smiled back and made their way out the store with another smaller redhead boy, a redhead girl, and another girl with bushy brown hair.

“Bulgaria is going to crush Ireland, you know!” Yelled the smaller redhead boy.

“Rubbish, Ronald!” the twins said in unison as they left.

Fiona watched them leave and considered that Hogwarts really wasn’t going to be so bad. Thirty minutes in the English wizarding world and she’d already made friends. She smiled to herself.

“Who were you talking to?”

Fiona jumped and turned to find Apollo towering over her.

“What? Nothing- no one. Just some kids who go to Hogwarts.”

“What were you talking about?” Apollo said, raising an eyebrow.

“I- I was talking to them about what other electives I should take. He suggested divination… said it was easy.” Fiona rummaged through her bag to mask the fact that she was burning red from embarrassment. Apollo was prying because he thought that-

“You have a crush already… Fiona, you’re pathetic!” Apollo said through his laugh. Fiona gasped.

“I do not! Apollo, shut up! We were just being friendly!” Apollo always gave her a hard time around befriending boys. She didn’t know why. “Anyway,” she continued. “I overheard them arguing about quidditch. D’you think Mom would let us go to a quidditch game?” Apollo, while self-portrayed as very serious, was a simple person. Mentioning food or quidditch was usually enough to quickly distract him.

“Oh, I bet they’re going to the Quidditch World Cup! I’d kill to see that game.”

Fiona and Apollo finished their school shopping and return to the ministry to find Mrs. Jackson. Since Apollo had remembered the Quidditch World Cup, he was adamant about going. But with Mrs. Jackson’s anxious nature, Fiona wasn’t surprised that she wouldn’t let them go.

“We just got here! I have too much on my hands to take you to some quidditch game,” Mrs. Jackson huffed, putting her hair in a twist that she stuck her wand into.

“It’s not just some quidditch game, Mom! It’s the Quidditch World Cup! This summer has been so boring for me and now there’s something going on I actually want to do!” Apollo said, tailing after her as she shuffled through the many boxes about her office.

“I’m sorry Apollo, but I do not have enough time to do this. Maybe next year,”

“But we could go ourselves! And besides, the world cup is only every four years.”

“Well, then by the time it comes around again you can go by yourselves. But for now, you will not be going alone!” Mrs. Jackson had raised her voice by then, and while Apollo initially opened his mouth for one more rebuttal, his mother interrupted. “I’m not discussing this anymore, both of you head home and start dinner. I have too much going on right now.”

Apollo, who groaned in frustration and stomped towards the door, hardly waiting for Fiona to join him. She hesitated, taking one last look at Mrs. Jackson, whose eyes wouldn’t leave the stack of papers piled on her desk.

“Please go, Ona,” she said softly.

Chapter Text

The days before school started felt long to Fiona, eventually running out of things to do. The weather had been damp and disagreeable with her very curly hair, Apollo had been more than miserable, and her mother hadn’t been home much. In fact, she had missed dinner for three nights in a row. Something happened at work, Fiona felt, but her mother wouldn’t say. Apollo had his nose buried in a new book he purchased at the store back in Diagon Alley. The only activity Fiona could occupy herself with was knitting. She liked to sew and knit afterall, making it an aggreeable activity to pass the time. Having already knit herself about five scarves, she decided the one she was working on that day would go to Apollo. She walked into their room to find him in his usual position: laying on his bed, holding a book a few inches from his face, and hanging his feet off the end.

“Do you like this scarf I made you?” Fiona asked eagerly, holding the scarf up to show him.

“It’s pink,” He said after a quick glance.

“So?”

“So?" he grimaced, "I don’t do pink.”

“Oh c’mon! The ladies will loooove you!” she teased, approaching him to wrap it around his neck.

“Fiona… No, stop!” But was too late, she had already successfully put the scarf on him, its bright color contrasting his dark scowl.

“Aww you look so cute!" she teased. "Let me get the camera. I'm sure Mamaw would love to see how you look with it on.”

“Fiona, NO.” Apollo said, throwing the scarf on the floor and rolling on his side away from her.

“Oh, lighten up a little, will you?" she said, balling the scarf up to store away. "You’re not gonna make any friends at Hogwarts with that attitude."

“I already have friends,” Apollo mumbled in reply. Fiona sighed in response. There was no point in arguing with him. He had made up his mind that he didn’t want new friends and that was fine. Fiona decided to change the subject.

“So, what do you think is going on?” Fiona said, sitting on his bed.

“What do you mean?” he mumbled, still not facing her.

“Mom’s been gone a lot," Fiona replied, looking out the window of their room, the thick rainy fog covering most of London's skyline. "Something must have happened, and I wanna know what but she won't tell me.” Apollo turned to face Fiona.

“There was a terrorist attack at the Quidditch World Cup a few nights ago. It was after the match between Bulgaria and Ireland.”

“Who was the attacker?”

“They don’t know. They suspect death eaters, but I think it’s just the Bulgarians protesting the fact that they lost,” Apollo chuckled.

“What eaters?” she asked. She thought the name sounded familiar but wasn’t sure. She was never one to keep up with politics, let alone British politics.

“Death eaters, Ona,” Apollo said. “They’re like followers of that dude, what’s his name…" he snapped his fingers as he tried to recall, "Voldemort.”

The name rang a bell. Fiona remembered hearing a little about Voldemort in school, but not much. It wasn’t a history that was prevalent to the American Wizarding world. “Isn’t he the Grindelwald wannabe?"

“Yeah," Apollo replied as he sat up. "Except he was never nearly as close to conquering the world like Grindelwald was. Some baby killed him, I think."

“A baby?!” Fiona replied, in shock. She began to laugh. How could a baby kill an evil and powerful wizard?

“Yeah, he tried to kill this baby but it didn’t work and then somehow the baby killed him? I don’t know, exactly. I think that’s what happened.”

“Are you screwing with me?” Fiona asked. There was no way that story was true, she was sure of it. Even in the wizarding world, escaping the death curse wasn’t possible.

“No, I’m serious. It’s a true story. Apparently that baby is still alive and goes to Hogwarts. We might actually meet him. I think he’s about our age, or so.”

“How do you know this much?”

“Unlike you, I like to read,” Apollo replied plainly.

The day finally arrived where Fiona and Apollo were to attend Hogwarts. Fiona decided she wanted to stand out and wore a shaggy purple sweater she had knitted herself accompanied by a pair of light blue jeans. Apollo wore what he usually wore: a sweatshirt, jeans, and converse.

“Everything all packed?” Mrs. Jackson asked, standing in the doorway.

“Yep, all good,” Fiona chirped, sitting on her trunk as she attempted to close it. “I- really- need- to- ARGH…got it! I really need to learn the undetectable extension charm…”

They made their way out of the apartment to Kings Cross Station. Mrs. Jackson knew how to get to platform 9 ¾, which was helpful. Fiona wasn’t sure she could have figured that one out on her own. The wizarding platform looked just like all the other no-maj platforms, but the train was a sight to be seen! It was a beautiful old steam engine that made up the entire length of the platform. The platform, a little clouded by the train's steam, was bustling. Students of all ages hugged their parents and entered the train with The Hogwarts Express encrusted on the side.

“Okay, this is where I will leave you,” Mrs. Jackson said, pulling her children aside to say goodbye. “Ona, I'm sorry I didn’t see much of you the last couple days. Things were... hectic,” She looked worried. But then again, Fiona always thought her mother looked worried.

“Paulie,” She said, grabbing Apollo’s hand quickly, and glancing at Fiona. She knew there was something her mother wanted to say to only him. Fiona stepped away so she was out of ear shot, but saw her mother place her hands on his shoulders. Fiona wished she could hear what she was saying to him. It could have been anything, however she hoped it wasn’t an apology. With the way Apollo treated her that summer, it should be him with the apology, not her. Her mother wrapped her arms around him in an embrace. At first Apollo didn’t reciprocate, but he soon gave in. They departed, and Apollo pushed his cart back towards Fiona.

“What was that all about?” she asked.

“Don’t worry about it.” He said shortly, walking past her.

They made their way onto the train where lots of students reunited with one another after a long summer apart. Fiona felt a little out of place, as there was no reunion to be had on the train. Except maybe a small one...

“Ona, why do we keep walking? There are so many available compartments,” Apollo complained.

Fiona ignored her brother and kept walking in hopes that she would find a particular compartment with a couple of redheads, eventually bumping right into the one she was looking for.

“Oi,” George said, taken aback by the mere body slam. “Oh, hi- er... You're Fiona, right?" Fiona smiled and nodded. "Looking for me, are you?” He smirked, his blue eyes twinkling even in the low light that bled into the train car..

“Just trying to find a car with enough overhead space for our stuff,” she replied smoothly. She could feel Apollo rolling his eyes behind her.

“Well come into our’s, there’s plenty of room,” George said with a smile. In the compartment sat George’s identical twin, Fred, and a dark girl and boy whose names were Angelina and Lee. Angelina was very pretty, and, from here natural kindness, already a great change from the girls at Ilvermorny. As was Lee. It felt a little off putting to Fiona, though she tried hard not to let it weird her out. The twins sat across from these new friends who so graciously welcomed them into the compartment.

“So, this must be your very serious brother you were telling us about,” Fred said with a grin. Apollo glared at Fiona. Apollo didn’t like to be teased or made fun of, even by his best of friends at Ilvermorny. So, naturally, Fiona laid into it.

“Yes, this is my brother Apollo. I like to call him Paulie for short,” she teased. Apollo glared even fiercer and crossed his arms.

“Paulie… I like that a lot!” said Angelina with a grin.

“Just Apollo is fine,” He grumbled as he turned to look out the window, a following silence lingering uncomfortably in the compartment.

“So, wheres in America are you from?” Lee asked, urgently changing the subject.

“We were born in South Carolina, but we spent most of our time at Ilvermorney wizarding school. Winters’ awful there. I hope it’s not as brutal here,” Fiona replied, trying very hard to move the conversation along.

“It snows a bit in the winter, but nothing life or death. Just a bit of fun, really,” George replied, making suggestive eyes to Fred who reciprocated.

“Big pranksters, these two. I reckon you should be on your guard around them,” Angelina whispered.

“We are no such thing! I’ll have you know that we are fantastic students. Great scores on every test,” said Fred, his nose in the air.

“Sure, try telling that to McGonagall,” Angelina scoffed. “So, why’d you move here?”

“Our Mom’s got a new job at the ministry and wanted us to move out with her. Dad’s a no-maj.”

“No-maj?” asked Lee

“Oh, I mean muggle. Dad’s a muggle,” Fiona corrected.

“That word sounds so nasty, muggle," Apollo chimed in. "Almost like y’all hate them or something."

A sudden stiffness hung in the air. Delicately, Angelina chimed in.

“...Muggles and Wizards haven’t always seen eye-to-eye here, that’s for sure,” she said.

“To be fair, we’re not great pals with them, either," Fiona reassured them. "I mean, there isn’t much prejudice, but they don’t know we exist,”

“Yeah, it’s been like that here for the past thirteen years or so. Pretty calm..." Lee replied, "but I reckon things might change soon. Especially after that fiasco at the World Cup,” Fiona felt the air’s stiffness become greater. Apollo looked up, the mention of quidditch encouraging him to contribute.

“Hey, I read about that," He leaned forward. "Death Eater attack, right?”

“That’s what they think. The family was there that night. A real crazy night for dad,” Fred replied, anxiously scratching the back of his head. There was a hesitation amongst the group as they all sat in silence.

“So…” Fiona began, wanting desperately to keep the conversation moving. “Since we’re new this year, we’ll need to be put in a house. Any tips on which house to avoid?”

“Slytherin,” they all say in unison.

“Wow, great. That was easy. Which ones are you in?

“Gryffindor! All of us, actually,” Lee said. “You think you two would be put together?” He asked, motioning to both Apollo and Fiona.

“Well, they put the both of us in Pukwudgie at Ilvermorny. So, perhaps!” Fiona replied with excitement.

“I think I should have been in Thunderbird, though. Remember?" Apollo quickly added. "You didn’t want me to be separated from you, so after you were sorted I asked to be in Pukwudgie."

“Oh, you’re not still mad about that are you? I was eleven and scared! I didn’t want to leave you!”

“Well, I reckon there’s a fat chance of that happening again,” joked Angelina.

“You got that right,” Apollo grumbled.

The group continued to converse throughout the lengthy train ride. Fiona was taken aback at how easy conversation was with them. Speaking with most students at Ilvermorny was like pulling teeth. The scenery outside the moving window changed from busy suburbs to large green mountains. Different from the tall bushy trees that grew in the Appalachians, it was a sight for Fiona to see these new mountains had no trees at all.

“Seems like we’ll arrive at Hogwarts soon," Angelina said as she too looked out the window of the compartment, the giant green hills of Scotland rolling past. "Since you’re new you’ll need to put your robes on. You’ll be doing the boat tour with the first years,” Angelina explained. Fiona looked above her and see a few brooms on the luggage rack

“Great. Can’t wait to sit with a bunch of eleven year olds…” Apollo grumbled.

“Lighten up a little bit… You don’t know who you could be making a first impression on,” Fiona whispered as she gestured to the brooms above Angelina, Fred, and George. Apollo stiffened as he realized they’re on the quidditch team.

They exited the train, Fiona and Apollo (though mostly Fiona) saying their goodbyes to their new friends, and starting off towards the absurdly large man yelling, “Firs’ years this way! C’mon, follow me!”

“He must be part giant,” Apollo whispered as they navigated around two dozen first years. The path was dark and narrow, but eventually opened to a great dark lake, the moonlight reflecting off the water’s ripples. In the distance was an enormously ancient castle, its windows bleeding with golden light.

“Right then. No more’n four to a boat! Er… you twos are bigger, so get yer own boat,” the giant human exclaimed. The twins climbed in carefully, the boat rocking with each step. “Everyone in? FORWARD!”

And without them rowing, the boats lurched forward on their own, the giant castle slowly increasing its size as they glided toward it. It was a truly magical sight for Fiona. Ilvermorny was not nearly as grand as Hogwarts. Its colonial architecture was no match for the medieval glory that stood before her.

The great hall was even grander. The ceiling, bewitched to display the sky. It was a clear night, and Fiona could see the bright stars dance around one another. The twins, along with the four feet tall first years, were suddenly ushered by an old witch named Professor McGonagall where they were to be sorted into their houses.

After a very detailed song about the four houses, the professor called out the first name. A small first-year timidly made her way up the stairs and into the chair, where McGonagall tentatively placed a dusty old hat on her head. Fiona cringed at the thought of that thing being placed on her head. Who knew how many heads it had sat on?

Without any delay, the old hat called out “HUFFLEPUFF!” and the little witch skipped down to a table of congratulating upperclassmen. An odd way to sort the houses, Fiona thought to herself. At Ilvermorny, the students only interacted with the four house carvings and whichever one reacted was the house you belong to.

It was not long before Fiona was finally called for sorting. Her palms sweat as she waited anxiously for the outcome, especially now that she knew she didn’t want Slytherin. It seemed that many of the Hogwarts students believed that your house determined your fate. It was intimidating to consider.

Fiona sat on the chair in front of McGonagall as she gently placed the hat onto her head.

“Hmm. Very interesting,” a low voice purred. It startled Fiona at first.

“Potential… Lots of potential…perhaps Hufflepuff?” it purred again.

Hufflepuff wouldn’t be bad, Angelina had mentioned that. But as she glanced over at Fred and George, she realized what she really wanted.

“Hmm… but I think you’re better suited for… GRYFFINDOR!”

The Gryffindor table erupted in applause. Fiona saw Angelina waving for her to join her where she sat opposite Fred and George. The table was decorated with golden plates and goblets for the feast, and her stomach rumbled at the thought of dinner. But dinner would have to wait as Apollo was next to be sorted. Fiona hoped to see him sorted into Gryffindor as well, but who was to say? She knew how different they were from one another. She just hoped he wouldn’t be put into Slytherin.

The older witch placed the sorting hat onto his head, and after a few moments it called out “RAVENCLAW!” Fiona sighed with relief, but deep down somewhere she felt disappointment. They had spent almost every waking moment with each other at Ilvermorny. It would be strange without him. The Ravenclaw table respectfully applauded and invited Apollo to join them. Before taking a seat next to a brown-skinned boy, Apollo glanced in Fiona’s direction. She wasn’t sure, but she could almost say he looked disappointed too.

“Tough luck,” Angelina comforted.

After Kevin Whitby was sorted into Hufflepuff, the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, invited the students to “tuck in”. And they do. It was all a very English meal. Meat pies, mashed potatoes, Yorkshire pudding. It wasn’t the most flavorful, but Fiona was starved and it would have to do.

After some huge bites and friendly conversation with her new Gryffindor friends, Dumbledore got to his feet once more. Fiona took note of how quickly he commanded the room. Everyone stopped their conversation at once, and the old man went on to recite banned goods and locations, and that quidditch would be canceled for the whole year. Fiona’s first thought went straight to Apollo. He would be more miserable now that there was no quidditch. A mild uproar of disapproval ensued across the hall. Dumbledore continued to announce something but was quickly interrupted by flashes of lighting, booms of thunder, and the entrance of a grizzly looking man. He wore an odd eyepatch, and his face was decently scarred. Dumbledore greeted him kindly and introduced him to the student body as Professor Moody, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher. The hall stirred with an uneasy energy as the new DADA professor made his presence known. And finally, once the Great Hall had settled down, Dumbledore announced that Hogwarts would be hosting the Triwizard Tournament.

“You’re JOKING” cried Fred.

“I am not joking Mr. Weasley” the headmaster replied. Fiona had heard of the Tournament before. It was a seven-hundred year old competition between certain schools in Europe. Ilvermorny was created much later, and therefore never participated.

“I’m going for it!” Fred hissed. A buzz of agreement could be heard at the other tables as well. Then Dumbledore dropped the bomb: only those of the age of seventeen and older were allowed to put their name in for consideration. Outrage could be heard throughout the hall. Fred and George themselves looked as if they might hurt someone.

Dumbledore completed his announcements by saying that the other students would be joining Hogwarts in October, then dismissed them for bed. There seemed to be a great reluctance as everyone makes their way out of the hall.

“They can’t do that! We’re seventeen in April, why can’t we have a shot?” said George, still glaring at Dumbledore.

“They’re not stopping me from entering,” Fred added. “The champions will get to do all sorts of stuff you’d never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleon prize money!”

Angelina tugged on Fiona’s sleeve as Fred and George’s younger brother mumbled something in agreement. “Best we get a move on,” she said, rolling her eyes. “They’ll be moping for hours.”

Together they made their way to the Gryffindor tower. The common room lied behind a large portrait of a fat lady. She wore a pink silk dress and spoke, “Password?”. Fiona looked in Angelina’s direction, hoping she would know what the password would be.

“Balderdash,” she chanted, and the large painting swung open to reveal the crimson room decorated with antique furniture, portraits and rugs. It was a bit gaudy for Fiona’s taste; red hadn’t always suited her. Nonetheless, it was cozy. A fire crackled in the corner. Fiona imagined herself doing homework on the couch that sat just in front of it.

They made their way to the stairs that lead to their dormitories. Fiona had hoped to be put in Angelina’s room since they’d already become friends but she was in the year above her. Instead Fiona was roomed with a few other girls and was quickly greeted by them as she entered the crimson dormitory. She worked hard to remember their names, but the sight of the dorm took her by surprise. The four-poster beds with red hanging curtains were a sight to be seen. The dorms at Ilvermorny were dismal compared to the bright colors of the ancient room she currently stood in. Fiona started towards the bed that had her trunk of things, and began unpacking.

“It’s rubbish there’s no quidditch this year!” A girl named Katie Bell said as she braided her hair into a plait.

“Oh, Katie, it’ll be orright! I’m sure yous and Angelina can still practice on the pitch from time to time” comforted another dark girl by the name of Gemma Droll. Her accent was a bit more unique and harder to distinguish. Fiona couldn’t tell where in England she must be from.

“You’re a quidditch player?” Fiona asked, trying to join the conversation.

“Chaser,” Katie replied, a proud smile on her face.

“You any good?”

Another pale girl by the name of Lucy Byrne walked out of the bathroom. “Better than good, she’s brilliant!” She added with an Irish accent.

“How ‘bout you, Fiona?” Gemma asked.

“Me?”

“Yeah, do you play quidditch?” Katie asked excitedly.

“Sorry, no. But my brother Apollo does. I bet he’s pretty bummed about the no quidditch thing too,” replied Fiona, who had almost finished unpacking her things.

“Too bad, we could always use more girls on the team,” Katie replied, falling back onto her bed.

“Oi, quit it Katie, we can’t all play quidditch,” Gemma said, Pulling on her nightgown.

Lucy laughed. “Katie’s been trying to get us into trying out for quidditch for the past four years,” she said to Fiona.

“Any luck?” Fiona asked, already knowing the answer.

“Nope,” Gemma and Lucy said in unison.

“I’ve always said it, you two have loads of potential!” Katie said, throwing her hands in the air.

“No way yer getting me back onto the pitch. I’ve finished my flying lessons with Hooch,” exclaimed Gemma.

“Suit yourself!” Katie sighed, drawing her bed curtains closed. The other girls laughed and crawled into their beds, closing their curtains.

Fiona closed hers too and laid back on her cushy bed. It felt very homey, Hogwarts. Everyone Fiona had met so far had been so kind. It was not like that at Ilvermorny. Her roommates hated her there. They worked tirelessly to exclude her from all their activities. On top of that, their parents were incredibly wealthy so she never fit in. They would pick out what they wanted in a dELIA’s catalogue and their parents would buy it for them. Fiona’s mother would take her to second hand stores so she never lived up to their fashion expectations. However, Fiona did get along with one girl named Mags, but she was what her roommates called a “punk”. She wore dark red lipstick and heavy eyeliner, and her hair was usually always in a vampy updo. She was obsessed with the study of Vampires, and on weekends she wore ripped Bikini Kill shirts and black combat boots. Fiona thought she was genuinely cool, but Mags wasn’t always in the mood for socializing. Therefore they never became very close.

So the fact that her new roommates were even bothering to converse with her felt amazing. She initially felt worried about not being a quidditch fan, but those fears were quickly put to bed thanks to Gemma and Lucy. They weren’t quidditch obsessed yet they seemed to get on well with Katie. Fiona’s mind suddenly wandered to Apollo. She wondered how he must have been doing in the Ravenclaw common room. Had he made any friends yet? Her heart ached at the unlikeliness that he’d opened up to anyone yet. He hardly muttered a word to anyone on the train…
She just hoped she could continue to make friends while she was at Hogwarts. Maybe even make someone more than a friend. The image of George popped into her head as she quickly fell asleep.

Chapter Text

It was hard getting out of bed the next morning. She was so used to the sun shining straight through her window into her eyes at Ilvermorny. But with the weather being consistently dismal on top of being able to draw curtains around her bed, waking was made difficult.

“Oi, sleepy head!” called Gemma as she kicked the foot of her bed. “Wakey, wakey! Yeh don’t want to miss breakfast now, do yeh?”

Fiona groaned and rolled out of bed into the bathroom. She could barely keep her eyes open as she brushed her teeth. The only thing keeping her awake was the cold tile of the bathroom floor.

“Running late?” asked Katie, who came out of the toilet stall to wash her hands. She too seemed barely awake; her hair in a knot on her head, and still in her robe.

“Mmmm,” was all that Fiona could reply.

“S’alright, I’ll walk with you when you’re ready,” she said with a yawn, wandering back into the dorm.

After a lazy attempt at putting themselves together, Katie and Fiona made their way to the dining hall. Though, it took them a bit longer to get there since the stairs wouldn’t stop changing and they were too sleepy to realize. Once they had made it to the Great Hall, Katie parted ways.

“Mind if I sit with my mate, Leanne? I haven’t seen her since last term and I’ve been meaning to catch up with her,” she said with a nervous smile.

While Fiona was born a witch with magical powers, she had one power most others didn’t have: the ability to recognize when she wasn’t wanted. “Not at all!” Fiona replied with as kind a smile as she could muster.

Katie surrendered another smile and made for the Hufflepuff table. Thankfully, Fiona spotted Angelina at the Gryffindor table. To her satisfaction, the Weasley twins were also there.

“Look who’s decided to join us!” said Angelina with a teasing smile. Neither George nor Fred looked up from their books. Lee was also there, reading over the Weasley twins’ shoulders.

“If it weren’t for my roommate, I probably would have slept all morning,” replied Fiona, as she reached for the last sausage. The Weasley twins still hadn’t even given a grunt of acknowledgement at her arrival. Annoyed, Fiona leaned towards Angelina

“Has someone jinxed me?” Fiona asked Angelina irritably as she buttered her sourdough toast.

“Hmm?” Angelina muttered as she looked up from her time table.

“Have I suddenly gone invisible?” Fiona asked again, nodding her head towards Lee and the Weasley twins.

Angelina snickered at Fiona’s irritation. “They’re convinced they can find an aging spell that will allow them to apply for the tournament,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Still on about that, are they?” Fiona laughed.

“You have no idea,” Angelina replied, rubbing her eye with her fist. “Oh, McGonagall dropped this off for you. Said I’d give it to you myself.” Angelina handed her her timetable. Fiona had almost forgotten she’d needed to go to classes that day. After all, she was in her robes. She had History of Magic first with Professor Binns. History of Magic was always a fairly easy course at Ilvermorny, but she wasn’t sure what to expect. After the owls dropped off letters and packages, Fiona made her way to History of Magic. She was a bit early, but being unfamiliar with the castle and the damned stairs that change every five seconds she knew she needed a head start.

Fiona was not expecting that her first professor of the day would be a ghost. And on top of that a very boring ghost. If she hadn’t had coffee that morning, Professor Binns might have put her straight back to sleep. And even less tolerable was her potions Professor. Snape, while young, was the most unpleasant man she had met at Hogwarts thus far. Fiona felt thankful that her roommates were in this class with her. Every now and then she’d exchange looks with Gemma, Katie, and Lucy, who always gave her a pitiful smile. Afterwards they reassured her not to worry about her new potions professor.

“Don’t worry about ‘im!” said Gemma as they left the dungeon. “‘e’s been like that since the day we got here!”

“Yeah, and don’t take it personally!” said Lucy who trailed next to Fiona. “He automatically hates anyone who’s Gryffindor.”

“And he makes our lives right foul on the pitch. Always trying to get us disqualified!” said Katie who had popped up out of nowhere. Fiona laughed and felt better about Snape. He was intimidating, but no more intimidating than Professor Stevens, the DADA professor at Ilvermorny who had an ill-temper and hardly gave any student a grade higher than a B. Including the students in his own house.

Next she had her very aloof divination professor. While George had mentioned it was an easy throw-away class in Diagon Alley, Fiona still had some interest in the subject. Though with how Professor Trelawney carried herself (or lack thereof), Fiona couldn’t take her seriously. And worst of all was Professor Moody. A fitting last name, Moody was a harsh looking one-eyed man, Fiona would even compare to cyclops. She was appalled that he started their first class discussing the forbidden spells, of which she knew, but had never seen practiced. It was a dark, depressing lecture. Apollo was there, though he worked hard to avoid her gaze, and made a point to sit far away from her. She hoped he’d get over this phase soon or the rest of the year would be miserable for him. Fiona walked to dinner hoping someone there could cheer her up.

To her delight, Fiona saw Fred, George, and Angelina all sitting together at the Gryffindor table. They were engaged in some deep conversation by the look of it.

“Yeah, but don’t you think he’s a bit mad?” Angelia asked. She gave Fiona a quick wink as she sat down.

“Of course he is, that’s why they call him 'Madeye Moody'!” replied Fred in frustration.

“Oi, Jackson!" George called as she approached them, "What did you think of our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?”

Fiona was a little taken aback by this encouragement to participate. They had practically ignored her that morning. “Uh, I don’t know. He seems a bit…” Fiona scratched her head as she recalled Moody’s false eye swivel in its socket. “Well, he makes me a bit uncomfortable,” she replied, sitting next to Angelina.

“See?” Angelina said, gesturing to Fiona, who was already plopping a serving of mashed potatoes onto her plate.

“No, no,” George replied, waving a dismissive hand. “She only thinks that because she doesn’t know of the DADA professor’s we’ve had before!” said George.

“Are you saying that Professor Lupin was boring or bad?” Angelina protested. “He was the best teacher we’ve had!”

“And a werewolf, may I remind you,” countered Fred, waving his fork at Angelina.

“Are you prejudiced?” Angelina challenged.

“‘Course not! Just saying it’s been a while since we’ve had a DADA professor who’s not only good at his job, but least likely to get fired!” replied George.

“Hogwarts can’t hold on to a DADA professor, eh?” Fiona chimed. She was thankful she found a window to engage in the conversation. Joining in on the quick banter in this friend group would need loads of practice before she felt comfortable.

“Nope.” said George. “The bloke that taught our first two years retired.

“Then there was Quirrell," added Fred, "who turned out to be Voldemort and tried to kill Harry… that was mental." Fiona was a little stunned by this remark. A professor tried to kill a student?

“Then there was Lockhart, but he went mad. Next there was Lupin but he got outed. And now we have Moody,” finished George.

“Yeah, and I reckon he’s the best we got,” said Fred, brushing his long red hair out of his eyes.

“You think he’ll last?” Fiona questioned.

“I bet he will!” replied George.

“How much?” she asked blankly.

George hesitated then smirked mischievously. “Ten galleons,” he said, jutting his chin.

“Twenty,” Fiona countered with a grin.

George grinned back, his blue eyes lighting up. “Fifteen,” he said, one eyebrow cocked.

Fiona squinted in thought and sucked her teeth. “Deal,” she said, putting her hand out to shake. George took her hand in his. The shake was firm and lingered there for a moment before he took his hand away.

“I like you Jackson. You know how to play.”

“Careful, Fiona," Angelina warned with wide eyes, "the Weasley boys don’t like to lose. I’d know! I have to share the pitch with them!”

Fiona smiled and started on her mashed potatoes. “Guess they’ll just have to get used to it,” she said as she took a bite. George gave Fred a look that Fiona couldn’t recognize, only that it was a knowing one.

Later, they had all planned on doing homework in the common room. But it came back to Fred and George poring over how to age themselves for the tournament.

“You lot will have to let it go,” said Angelina, who was trying to start her Arithmancy homework, her book open and many scrapped notes crumpled by her feet. “It’s never going to work.”

“You want to follow in Jackson’s footsteps and bet on that?” asked George, his gaze never leaving his book of spells.

“Yeah, Johnson! Be brave!” Fred smiled at Angelina.

Angelina rolled her eyes, but struggled to hold back a smile. “No thanks,” she said as she loudly shut her text book. “I’m off to bed. I’ll see you lot tomorrow.” Fiona took that as an invitation to leave as well. She had made headway on her Potions homework, and decided it was enough for her to go to bed. Besides, Fred and George weren’t going to have much conversation with their noses stuck in their spellbook. She closed her potions textbook and made it for her dormitory.

“Leaving without saying goodnight?” George called before she made it to the first step. Fiona turned to find George standing with his hands on his hips, an eyebrow cocked as he waited for her reply.

“Goodnight, Weasley,” she said, mirroring his stance and his eyebrow.

George relaxed and smiled. “Goodnight, Jackson,” he replied smoothly, combing his hand through his red hair.

Fiona smiled and rolled her eyes. “Goodnight, Fred!” she called as she made her way up the stairs.

“U-huh!” replied Fred, whose nose never left the pages of his spell book.

Fiona climbed the staircase that lead to her very crimson and cozy dorm. Only Gemma was there, studying her History of Magic textbook while she sat in bed and snacked on potato chips.

“Orright, Fiona?” she said, as she crunched on a chip.

“Yeah, I think I’m just getting ready for bed. How’s the homework?” she asked.

“S’orright. I canny study in the common room. Too noisy. Care fer a crisp?” she replied, holding out her bag of chips.

“A crisp?”

“Er– or whatever yous calls it? A ‘chip’, right?”

Fiona laughed. “Uh yeah, but ‘crisp’ is fine. Anyway, I think it makes more sense.” Fiona took a crisp from Gemma’s bag, enjoying its saltiness as she put her books in her trunk.

“Aye, yer brother’s in my Arithmetic class, Gemma said, opening up her copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. "Apollo, is it?”

“Yeah, that’s him,” Fiona replied, sitting at the end of her bed and taking her shoes off. Her feet ached from the day of walking all over the castle.

“A real cheerful lad,” Gemma retorted.

Fiona rubbed her feet and laughed. “Tell me about it,” she said.

“Hard to believe yeh twos are related.” Fiona shrugged, though she agreed. She often felt that she and Apollo were polar opposites. Gemma groaned and laid back on her bed. “Kill fer a chicken shop right now,” she said, rubbing her stomach. “Talking about chips made me hungry.”

“Is there one in– what’s that town called– ‘hogs-head’ or something?” Fiona asked.

Gemma snickered. “Yeh mean Hogsmeade? And fat chance! Though there definitely should be. Besides, we canny go to Hogsmeade fer another couple months.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Fiona replied.

Gemma sighed and sat up. “I think I’ll just go to the kitchens. Need anything?” She said putting her slippers on and making for the door.

“No thanks! I think I’ll just be going to bed,” Fiona replied.

Gemma smiled and left, closing the door softly behind her. Fiona threw off her robes and crawled into bed, leaving only her underclothes. She didn’t care that she hadn’t washed, she was exhausted from the day. Her new friends of course made the day go by quickly, but she couldn’t help but dwell on the cold shoulder Apollo gave her in DADA. He had completely avoided her gaze and refused to talk or even acknowledge her. Fiona rolled over and covered her head with her bed covers as a hot ball of anger sank in the pit of her stomach. It was unfair, she thought. Why was Apollo punishing her for something that wasn’t even a choice of hers? She didn’t choose to pack up and leave the States, so why was Apollo making her feel bad about it?
Fiona didn’t like to feel angry, and especially about her brother. But sometimes Apollo made it so difficult not to be.

The following week was overwhelming at best, but Fiona enjoyed getting to know everyone more. Professor Flitwick was a whimsical man, who she rather enjoyed listening to. And she quite liked her transfiguration professor, who was an animagus, and often spent the quiet moments of class in cat-form. Fiona thought it was amusing and had hoped to learn to become an animagus someday. Her patronus was a Swift, and had read that animagi often reflect patronuses. Flying without the use of a broom sounded most endearing to her.

She found Hagrid, her Care of Magical Creatures professor, to be most amusing. He wasn’t intentionally a mess, disorganization came naturally to him of which Fiona found quite funny and endearing. He reminded her a bit of Apollo in his best moments. She’d never tell him that though as he probably wouldn’t take it the right way. Gemma, who was also taking Care of Magical Creatures, had had enough of Hagrid.

“Don’t misunderstand me, I love Hagrid,” Gemma started irritably, as they made their way back to the Great Hall for lunch. “It’s just that– well, he’s a bit ov a mess, inhe?”

Fiona giggled. “At least he’s entertaining. It beats Binns who’ll put you to sleep in two seconds,” she replied as they set foot into the great hall. The hall was just starting to fill in with students, some already deep in conversation at the dark oak tables.

“Aye, that’s true,” Gemma agreed.

Her other classes, while with different professors and classmates, didn’t feel much different than they did at Ilvermorny. Professor Sprout of Herbology was a very knowledgeable woman, one who could go on endlessly about Herbology if it weren’t for the bell cutting her off. And Professor Sinastra was as good as any astronomy teacher. Though, Fiona always found it hard to focus in the evening, and much preferred Astrology over Astronomy anyway. She often ate breakfast with her roommates, finding them more than tolerable. They were witty and kind, and always made Fiona feel welcome. A feeling she hadn’t felt with her previous roommates at Ilvermorny. And dinner and evenings were often spent with the sixth years she had befriended. They were always warm and inviting towards her (when Fred and George weren’t hunched over a spellbook), and bouncing between inventing a new joke potion or finding a spell that will age them for the tournament.

“Which spell are you on about now?” Angelina rolled her eyes as she sat at the dinner table. The Great Hall was unusually sparse that evening, with students likely off studying. Fiona had arrived to dinner early, as she had a pile of homework to start before she got too tired. Fred and George had beat her to the dining hall, clearly anxious about mastering some spell or invention. She didn’t bother trying to get their attention, they were clearly occupied.

“Not a spell,” replied George, who barely looked up from the book.

“Yeah, we need to rest our eyes,” added Fred, who bat his eyelashes in Angelina’s direction.

“And our brains.”

“No, this is strictly business.”

“Business?” asked Fiona, thankful she was able to find a moment to interject.

“Weasley Wizard Wheezes,” answered Angelina, who by the look on her face, had heard more than enough on this subject.

“It’s what our inventions are for,” added Fred, who seemed a bit disappointed that Angelina beat him to the punch line.

Fiona began to put the pieces together. “So to sell? Like a joke shop?”

“Precisely, dearie!” George winked. Fiona’s heart fluttered.

“That’s brilliant!” Fiona said.

“Brilliant, or rubbish?” Angelina said, shaking her head.

Fred flashed Angelina a teasing smile. “Oh, Angelina! Always been our biggest supporter, haven’t you!” he said, shutting the spell book.

“That’s me. Fred and George’s number one fan,” Angelina said sarcastically, raising her eyebrows at Fiona. Fiona laughed. Fred and Angelina continued to banter as George scooted closer to Fiona.

“Currently we’re working on an extendable ear charm of sorts,” he said, serving up some potatoes onto his plate.

“What, so you can listen in on other people’s conversations?” Fiona asked.

“Exactly,” George smiled. “Wise AND you support our ideas? Maybe Fred and I will need to hire you!”

Fiona laughed. “Sure, I’ll help!” she said. She quite liked the idea.

George smiled and shook his head, his red hair shimmering in the candle light of the Great Hall.

“What?” Fiona asked.

“How is it you’re so game? We’ve been trying to get Angelina in for years but she just won’t budge. Scared she’ll get kicked off the quidditch team!”

“Well, my dad owns an at-home business. He makes his own candles and sells them at flea markets and such,” she replied, mushing her potatoes around on her plate. "I guess I know a good startup when I hear one."

“Flea-what?” said George.

Fiona laughed again. “A flea market. It’s a nomaj— uh— muggle thing. My dad's a muggle." George frowned, still confused by the name. "It’s just a community market, essentially. Loads of vendors sell various items, so my dad sells candles.”

George’s face lit up. “That sounds brilliant. The wizarding world ought to have those too, so we can sell our products there. Does the wizarding world have them in america?”

“Yes, mostly in the rural areas though, where wizard products don’t come so easily,” she replied. It was true, especially in the rural south. The town near Ilvermorny was a wizarding town, so wizarding items were easily fetched there. It was when she’d go home, however, where wizarding products weren’t so easily attainable. Occasionally her mother would take her to a wizarding flea market. “Though we don’t call them ‘flea markets’ we call them ‘Billywig Markets’. And if you’re in the cajun south then it’s called ‘Marché aux perreuquebil’”.

George was a little taken aback by Fiona’s ease in changing languages. “You speak french?” he asked, scratching his head.

Fiona shook her head. “No, but I speak cajun french,” she replied. Fiona and Apollo's father was cajun, having grown up in Lafayette, Louisiana and speaking mostly cajun french. While Fiona and her brother grew up in South Carolina, their father was sure to teach them the language and dialect. After all, it was the only thing their grandmother spoke.

George hesitated. “Is– is there a difference?”

Fiona laughed. “Oui. Une grosse différence,” she said, with a thick cajun accent.

“Did you just call me gross?” George said, his face mortified.

Fiona laughed boisterously at that. Harder than she had in a while.

The next couple weeks were the busiest Fiona had been. Being in her fifth year, she was expected to prepare for her OWLS. It came as a bit of a shock to her as major exams weren’t expected until her seventh year at Ilvermorny. She spent most afternoons hunkered down in the library, studying as hard as she could. Even though she was several weeks into the semester, she still felt madly unprepared. And on top of that, her DADA classes with Moody were becoming more intense, and Snape developed more of a vendetta against the Gryffindors.
Would she ever catch a break?

Fiona nervously ran her hands through her blonde curly hair as she skimmed her Potions textbook. Potions was her least favorite class, it didn’t come naturally to her.

“You okay, Fiona?” A voice whispered. Fiona looked up to find Katie emerging from the fiction aisle.

Fiona smiled weakly. “As okay as I can be. Potions is kicking my ass,” she replied in a low voice, so as not to disturb Madam Pince who was adamant about keeping her library quiet.

Katie joined her at the study table. “Ah, well I’m not too bad at it myself, if you want any help,” Katie said with a kind smile.

Fiona smiled back. “Thanks,” she said, before quickly returning back to her studies.

“You’ve been really busy lately," Katie said as she set her books down. "Hardly had time for any fun or extracurriculars.”

Fiona knew what she was getting at. “I’m not trying out for quidditch, Katie. I’m trash at it, or rubbish as you folks say.”

“Okay, okay!” she said, putting her hands up in surrender. A loud shhh came from Madam Pince. Katie cringed apologetically then continued. “So no quidditch, but at least join something. Oi, Professor Flitwick conducts a choir!”

Fiona scrunched up her face. “Not much of a singer,” she replied.

“No? How about an instrument? There’s a school orchestra! Lucy plays the cello in it.”

“Well…” Fiona started. “I did play the flute for a while, but I don’t have it with me.”

“Have your parents send it! It’s a light package anyway, I’m sure the owls could manage!”

“When do they rehearse?” Fiona asked, a little intrigued.

“Tuesday and Thursday evenings, I think, but it’d probably be best to ask Lucy about it,” Katie smiled.

Fiona sighed. She was still anxious about her potions homework and didn't want to think of anything else. “Sure, yeah, thanks,” she said, biting her lip.

Katie hesitated a moment. “Well,” she said as she packed her things to leave. “I see you’re busy, so I’ll leave you to it.”

“Hey Katie,” Fiona called to Katie before there was too much distance between them. Katie turned. “Thanks,” she said.

Katie smiled. “Of course,” she said.

Later that evening in the dorm Fiona inquired about the school orchestra with Lucy, who was more than eager to give her the details.

“We rehearse Tuesday and Thursday evenings from six to seven! And we’re in desperate need for a flute player. Jude Squaggle, our old flute player, seems to have moved on to bigger and better things,” Lucy rolled her eyes, and pulling on her night shirt.

“If yer talking about his new relationship with Cherie Auchter…” Gemma chimed from the bathroom.

“Yes I am," Lucy remarked, her hands on her hips. "That petty princess has taken our tiff out on the orchestra! It’s rubbish!”

“Cherie Auchter?” asked Fiona. This was information she was unfamiliar with.

“Cherie auditioned for Lucy’s chamber group, but didn’t make it,” Gemma laughed.

“I had nothing against her personally,” chimed Lucy as she pulled her long red hair into a messy bun.

“No, but you did say her violin playing was shit!” scoffed Katie, pausing from reading Seeker Weekly.

“Oi, that wasn’t personal, it was a fact!” Lucy exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air. The girls laughed. “And it was her choice to quit the orchestra, she could have stayed if she wanted! Now she’s gone ahead and taken Jude with her. But that doesn’t matter now.” Lucy turned to Fiona. “Fiona, we have a spot open for you to play, come whenever you like!”

“My flute’s not here yet,” she smiled apologetically.

“Not a problem, you can even just sit in on rehearsal. I’m sure Flitwick wouldn’t mind!” Lucy said.

That evening before bed, Lucy wrote a letter to her father, begging him to ship out her flute. She was worried about the expenses that would go towards international mail travel, and told him she would make it up to him by getting a summer job. Fiona went to the owlery after breakfast the following morning. She didn’t know how long it would take for the letter to reach him, but hoped it would be soon as she suddenly felt eager to play with the orchestra.

Fiona rushed back to the castle, wrapping herself in her sweater. The days were already getting colder and shorter. She wondered when the first snowfall would be. When she stepped into the Great Entrance she noticed a gaggle of students swarmed around a sign. She didn’t recall seeing that when she left, so it must had just been added.

“TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT:

The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at 6 o’clock on Friday the 30th of October. Lessons will end half an hour early — Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast.”

Once she had learned of the other schools’ arrival, Fiona ran to the Gryffindor Common Room.

“Balderdash,” she chanted at the giant portrait that swung open. In the common room she found her sixth year friends sat around the fire place. “Y’all!” she called as she ran to them. Lee, who was in a deep slumber, nearly fell out of his chair.

“Howdy,” smiled Fred in his worst southern accent.

“They’ve announced the arrival of the other schools!” She said joining them on the red cushy sofa. The lot looked at her with confused expression. "For the tournament!"

“When is it then?” asked Angelina, who was sipping on a cup tea, an earl gray tag hanging by the string.

“October thirtieth. They’ll be arriving by six o’clock, lessons will end thirty minutes early,” Fiona recited.

“Who needs the sign when they could’ve just hired you to tell us the news,” George laugh.

After the announcement of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons’ arrival, anxiety filled the air of the castle. Teachers’ tempers were shorter, and a never ending buzz echoed throughout the halls. Fred and George had become more reclusive with the announcement of the other schools arrival as they were desperate for a way to enter the tournament.

They were all sat at the table for breakfast, Fred and George in their own bubble, when the Weasley twin’s younger brother and his friends joined them.

“It’s a bummer, all right,” George was saying gloomily to Fred. “But if he won’t talk to us in person, we’ll have to send him the letter after all. Or we’ll stuff it into his hand. He can’t avoid us forever.”

“Who’s avoiding you?” said Ron, Fred and George’s younger brother, sitting down next to them.

“Wish you would,” said Fred, looking irritated at the interruption. Fiona and Angelina snickered under their breath, pretending they hadn’t heard.

“What’s a bummer?” Ron asked George. “Having a nosy git like you for a brother,” said George.

“You two got any ideas on the Triwizard Tournament yet?” the spectacled friend of Ron’s asked. “Thought any more about trying to enter?”

“I asked McGonagall how the champions are chosen but she wasn’t telling,” said George bitterly. “She just told me to shut up and get on with transfiguring my raccoon.”

“Wonder what the tasks are going to be?” said Ron thoughtfully. “You know, I bet we could do them, Harry. We’ve done dangerous stuff before. . . .”

“Not in front of a panel of judges, you haven’t,” said Fred. “McGonagall says the champions get awarded points according to how well they’ve done the tasks.”

“Who are the judges?” Harry asked.

“Well, the Heads of the participating schools are always on the panel,” said Ron’s other bushy-haired friend, “because all three of them were injured during the Tournament of 1792, when a cockatrice the champions were supposed to be catching went on the rampage.” Fiona wasn’t sure how she knew all of that. It wasn’t part of the sign that announced the school’s arrival. “It’s all in Hogwarts, A History,” she said irritably,” Though, of course, that book’s not entirely reliable. A Revised History of Hogwarts would be a more accurate title. Or A Highly Biased and Selective History of Hogwarts, Which Glosses Over the Nastier Aspects of the School.”

“What are you on about?” said Ron.

“House-elves!” said Hermione, her eyes flashing. “Not once, in over a thousand pages, does Hogwarts, A History mention that we are all colluding in the oppression of a hundred slaves!” Fiona wasn’t sure what she was upset about, but she was clearly passionate. “You do realize that your sheets are changed, your fires lit, your classrooms cleaned, and your food cooked by a group of magical creatures who are unpaid and enslaved?” she said fiercely. Ah, yes. Fiona had heard about this from Fred and George. Apparently she had urged them to join her campaign. When Fiona learned about it she was mildly interested. Ron rolled his eyes, Fred ignored Hermione, and George, however, leaned in towards her.

“Listen, have you ever been down in the kitchens, Hermione?”

“No, of course not,” said Hermione curtly, “I hardly think students are supposed to —”

“Well, we have,” said George, indicating Fred, “loads of times, to nick food. And we’ve met them, and they’re happy. They think they’ve got the best job in the world —”

“That’s because they’re uneducated and brainwashed!” Hermione began hotly, but her next few words were drowned out by the sudden whooshing noise from overhead, which announced the arrival of the post owls.

A large barn owl swooped down towards Fiona and dropped a brown paper package.

“My flute!” she chirped. She ripped open the package and opened the black case to reveal her shiny silver instrument. Fiona sighed with relief as it had been untouched by the long voyage overseas. Attached to the flute case was a little note from her father.

“Baby girl,
I was so glad you wrote to me, I had hoped you would. How’s Hogwarts? Mama’s told me things about London, but I’m dying to know how school is! Have you made any friends? How’s Apollo? Tell him to write to me, would you?
Things are good here. Hot and humid as always. Your Mamaw has made some visits to check on me. She seems to think I can’t handle being here on my own. A mother always worries. Speaking of which, write to Mama too, would you? She says she hasn’t heard much from either of you. I told her that probably means you’re doing more than alright.
Love you,
Daddy”

Guilt sank into Fiona’s stomach. She didn’t realize how little she had communicated with her parents. She also hadn’t made an attempt to talk to Apollo, he had made his intentions clear. Occasionally she’d look over to the Ravenclaw table and was pleased to see him talking to some of his housemates. Lately she had seen him sitting with a very blonde girl. Fiona stood and started towards Apollo, who was sitting contently eating his breakfast.

“Apollo,” she said, a little out of breath, partly from how quickly she made it to him, and partly from her nerves.

Apollo looked up from his bacon. “Fiona,” he echoed.

“Have you written to Mom or Dad at all?” she asked.

“No, I figure they don’t want to hear from me,” he said pointedly.

“On the contrary," she replied, holding up the letter she'd received. "I just heard from Dad. He says he hasn’t heard from you and Mom’s worried."

“Mom’s always worried,” he said, waving a dismissive hand.

Fiona crossed her arms irritably and sighed. “Look, you can hate me all you want. I’m used to it by now. But don’t hate Mom and Dad. They’ve done nothing wrong,” she huffed. When Apollo didn’t respond, Fiona turned on her heel and made back to the Gryffindor table, where energies were far more cheerful in comparison to the Ravenclaw table.

Time that day moved slowly. Though she only had DADA, and spent the day most of the day studying, she couldn’t help but notice the buzz in the air and the whispers being shared between students. Finally, halfway through DADA, just as Moody was beginning his lecture on counter jinxes, the bell rang. Every student sprung into the air, eager to make their way to the entrance hall. Fiona shared a glance with Apollo, who flashed her a weak smile. Was he trying again? Was he finally getting over himself? She shook her head. She couldn’t possibly think of that now. Fiona found her roommates in the crowd just as McGonagall was ushering the Gryffindor house into a line.

“So exciting, isn’t it!” Lucy sang, clasping her hands together. Fiona smiled and nodded. It was a bit exciting. She was eager to meet more students and potentially make more friends.

Once the line was filed, McGonagall lead the way. “Follow me please! First years in front… no pushing!” she called from over her shoulder.

They made their way down the stairs and lined up in front of the castle. The sun was almost completely set, and the night nearly began. It was chilly, causing Fiona to rub her arms and warm them. She hoped the schools would arrive soon. She didn’t intend on staying outside the castle all night.

There was a lot of waiting before Dumbledore called out.

“Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!”

“Where?” Fiona said under her breath. She squinted but couldn’t see anything.

“There!” yelled a Ravenclaw sixth year, pointing over the forest.

Fiona squinted even harder and could make out a large moving figure.

“It’s a dragon!” shrieked one of the first years. Katie and Lucy snickered at the guess. Gemma nudged them to shut them up.

“Don’t be stupid . . . it’s a flying house!” said a boy named Dennis Creevey.

It did look close to a flying house, Fiona thought. But as it grew closer, she could see a group of pegasus leading the way. She hadn’t seen pegasus in person, and would have never guessed they would be that big.

The closer the flying object grew, the more Fiona could make out it was a pegasus drawn carriage, and a massive one at that. The carriage landed and the golden pegasus whinnied fiercely. A boy dressed in light blue robes jumped down from the carriage and revealed a set of steps. Out appeared a giant woman, the largest woman Fiona had ever seen. Hagrid was big, but she was huge. She guessed the woman to be over eight feet tall.

“Blimey,” Katie whispered.

Fiona hadn’t realized how stark silent everyone was at the sight of the woman until Dumbledore initiated an applause at which everyone joined. The tall woman smiled at her introduction and walked up to Dumbledore who graciously took her hand and kissed it.

“My dear Madame Maxime,” Dumbledore said. “Welcome to Hogwarts.”

“Dumbly-dorr,” said Madame Maxime in a deep voice. “I ’ope I find you well?”

“In excellent form, I thank you,” said Dumbledore.

“My pupils,” said Madame Maxime, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her.

Fiona took note of the rows of gorgeous looking teenagers who stood behind Madame Maxime. They looked cold, and she sympathized, or empathized, rather, as she herself was freezing. They sstood there, taking Hogwarts in, their arms crossed over their chests. Whether it was because it was cold, or because they were repulsed by the sight of the castle, Fiona did not know.

“ ’As Karkaroff arrived yet?” Madame Maxime asked.

“He should be here any moment,” said Dumbledore. “Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?”

“Warm up, I think,” said Madame Maxime. “But ze ’orses —”

“Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them,” said Dumbledore, “the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other — er — charges.”

Fiona wasn’t sure what Dumbledore meant by that. She looked to her roommates for guidance, they flashed an expression that read “we’ll tell you later.”

“My steeds require — er — forceful ’andling. Zey are very strong,” added Madame Maxime.

“I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job,” said Dumbledore, smiling.

“Very well,” said Madame Maxime, bowing slightly. “Will you please inform zis ’Agrid zat ze ’orses drink only single-malt whiskey?”

“It will be attended to,” said Dumbledore, also bowing.

“Come,” said Madame Maxime to her students. Fiona and her roommates stepped aside to allow the beautiful parade of Beauxbatons students to enter the Castle.

It was quite again as the Hogwarts students waited for their other guests to arrive. Then a disturbance could be heard in the lake. Fiona squinted again but it was so dark she couldn’t make out what the disturbance was caused by.

“The lake!” yelled Lee Jordan, pointing down at it. “Look at the lake!”

The disturbance grew louder and larger, for Fiona was able to see it now. Through a large whirlpool that swirled in the lake emerged a giant ship. And out of the giant ship emerged fur-cloaked figures.

“Dumbledore!” a large cloaked man called heartily as he walked up the slope. “How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?”

“Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff,” Dumbledore replied. Fiona assumed he was the Durmstrang headmaster.

“Dear old Hogwarts,” the Durmstrang headmaster said to himself as he gazed upon the castle’s greatness. “How good it is to be here, how good. . . . Viktor, come along, into the warmth . . . you don’t mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold. . . .”

By the reaction Katie had, Fiona assumed she just about had a heart attack. “Merlins beard!” she whispered, grabbing Lucy’s arm tightly. “It’s Krum!”

“Who?” Fiona, Lucy, and Gemma asked simultaneously.

“Krum! Victor Krum! He’s only the best quidditch player in the world at the moment!” Fiona still didn’t understand what the hype was about but comforted Katie, nonetheless. She seemed like she was about to faint.

They filed back into the great hall, and there was much chatter about Hogwarts new guests.

“Did you catch a glimpse of those beautiful Beauxbaton boys?” Gemma said, squeezing Fiona’s arm as they walked together.

“Did I!” she replied enthusiastically. It’s true, all of Beauxbaton was beautiful. And the boys– no, MEN that emerged from the Durmstrang ship...

They had reentered the Great Hall with much excitement from the arrival of Viktor Krum (though Fiona didn’t understand it). She noticed Beauxbaton had made themselves as comfortable as possible– and based on the look Fiona saw on their faces it wasn’t very so. Apollo was already chatting one of them up. She was pleased to see him social with someone, but of course it helped that the Beauxbaton girls were stunning.

After a minute of searching, Fiona found her sixth year friends and sat with them as they ensued in deep conversation.

“I can’t believe Krum is actually here!” Angelina whispered excitedly.

“Me neither,” cried Fred, looking over his shoulder to see the Durmstrang students sat comfortably at the Slytherin table.

“He was mad brilliant at the world cup when we went,” said George, also turning to catch a glimpse.

“I thought Bulgaria lost,” Fiona added as she sat down next to Angelina.

Fred scowled. “Sure, but that doesn’t mean they’re bad.”

“Right," George confirmed. "Just had a bad night is all."

Fiona snickered. “If you say so."

It wasn’t long before the staff reentered the Great Hall and everyone quieted themselves, though not before the Beauxbaton students stood at the entrance of their Head Mistress.

“That's weird, innit,” whispered Angelina. Fiona nodded in agreement.

Finally Dumbledore came forward and the vague murmurs ceased.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and — most particularly — guests,” Dumbledore began. “I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable. The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast,” said Dumbledore. “I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!”

At once the plates revealed themselves full. There was an assortment of cuisine provided that evening, some of which Fiona had and hadn’t seen before. A large platter of bouillabaisse appeared, of which Fiona dove for. Her Meemaw would often make bouillabaisse when she visited her in Louisiana, it was one of her favorite dishes. However as she sipped on its broth she was disappointed to find that it was not nearly as spicy as she hoped it to be.

“Something wrong with your soup?” George asked.

“No, it’s just not as spicy as I like it,” Fiona replied, taking a couple more sips of her soup broth.

“You’ve had this before?” Lee asked, recklessly motioning to the soup.

“Sure, my grandma makes it. But it’s usually spicier. You should try it!”

Fred, George, Lee, and Angelina took a good look at the soup before replying in unison, “No thanks.”

After dinner and dessert– which included an assortment of french pastries, of which Fiona was familiar with– Dumbledore rose to his feet and addressed the Great Hall once again.

“The moment has come! The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.”

“He was at the World Cup too!” cried George, as he gave Mr. Bagman a thunderous applause. Fiona wasn’t quite sure of what the craze around him was, however she was keen to the fact there was a reason for it, as even Angelina gave him a loud round of applause.

“Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament,” Dumbledore continued, “and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions’ efforts.”

“Champions… That’ll be us, Freddie,” George winked.

“The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch,” beckoned Dumbledore.

Fiona initially expected to see a real casket with perhaps a corpse displayed inside. But to her relief, a bejeweled wooden box was placed delicately in front of him.

Dumbledore continued. “The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman,” said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, “and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways . . . their magical prowess — their daring — their powers of deduction — and, of course, their ability to cope with danger.”

Fred and George gave each other wild eyes and excited smile in response to Dumbledore’s fair warning.

“As you know, three champions compete in the tournament,” Dumbledore went on calmly, “one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire.”

At that, Dumbledore took out his wand, tapping the casket three times, to reveal a gorgeous and ancient wooden goblet. It vaguely reminded Fiona of one of the many Holy Grails she had seen in the last Indian Jones film, a series her father most enjoyed and would watch annually.

“Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet,” said Dumbledore. “Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.

“To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation,” said Dumbledore, “I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.

“Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all.”

The feast had come to an end and a stuffed Fiona and friends waddled their way to their dormitories. Not without intense discussion on the newly learned rules.

“An Age Line!” Fred cried, as they caught up to Ron and his friends. “Well, that should be fooled by an Aging Potion, shouldn’t it? And once your name’s in that goblet, you’re laughing — it can’t tell whether you’re seventeen or not!”

“But I don’t think anyone under seventeen will stand a chance,” said Hermione, “we just haven’t learned enough . . .”

“Speak for yourself,” said George shortly. “You’ll try and get in, won’t you, Harry?”

Fiona looked at the dark haired, spectacled boy when it hit her. Was that the boy her brother had mentioned survived the killing curse? She had just noticed the scar on his forehead. She cringed at the thought that it had taken her that long to realize. He's in the same house as me, for christ’s sake! She said to herself.

Harry never replied as Ron was only interested with finding Viktor Krum for an autograph. Fred and George laughed at their younger brother who was clearly too starstruck, and Fiona and her friends made their way back to the common room.

“Angelia,” said Fiona as they entered the portrait hole. Angelina turned to her, tucking her long braids behind her ears.

“Was that the boy who survived the killing curse? The one we were just talking to?” she asked shyly.

“What, Harry?” Angelina laughed. Fiona nodded. “Yeah that’s him, alright. Really no different than any other bloke in the house. But he’s mad on the pitch.”

“He’s bad?” Fiona asked, unsure of what she meant.

“Blimey, no! He’s incredible. The best seeker we’ve had in years!”

“Oh, right,” Fiona smiled nervously, scratching the back of your head.

“Weird, I’ve forgotten you’ve just arrived this year. Feels like l’ve known you forever,” Angelina smiled kindly. Fiona lost her words. All she could do was smile in reply. “Right, well I’m off to bed. See you tomorrow?”

Fiona nodded and watched as Angelina made her way up the stairs. She had lost her balance for a moment as she realized her speculations were true. She had truly made friends at Hogwarts.

Chapter Text

Fiona slept pretty soundly that night and into the early morning. Though it was Saturday, she was up at six am on the dot. She tried to doze off a few more times before sighing with frustration and crawling out of bed and into the bathroom. The girls were all still asleep -- they were up late the night before, fangirling about Viktor Krum. After she brushed her teeth and threw on her clothes (putting on her handmade heavy sweater for warmth) she made her way into the common room where she found Fred and George, very much awake. Lee and Angelina were laid across the couch and chair, very much asleep.

“Why are you up this early?” Fiona asked as she came down the stairs.

“We’ve been up,” replied Fred, the bags under his eyes slowly coming into view.

“And we’ve just about done it!” George added, jumping out of his chair, and placing an arm around Fiona’s shoulder, ushering her to join them.

As she sat at the table, she saw empty ingredient bottles scattered about. “Oh, Lord. What potions are these for?” She asked as she picked up a cylindrical glass bottle that looked like it could have contained bat tongue.

“No, we’ve done it!” Fred said. Fiona put the bottle down and looked at both of them.

“Done what?” she asked, irritably. She wasn’t quite awake enough for riddles.

“The aging potion, Jackson,” George said, matching her tone.

She looked at both of them and didn’t see much difference. Nothing else other than the bags under their eyes, at least. “You don’t look much older to me.”

George rolled his eyes. “‘Course we don’t, we only need to be a few months older anyway!”

Fiona nodded slowly, her eyebrows knitted together.

“What, don’t believe us?” asked Fred, cocking an eyebrow.

“It’s just… if you’re only supposed to be a few months older, how do you know that it really worked?”

“Well,” George began, “considering this is the first time that my tongue hasn’t turned blue–”

“And,” added Fred, “this is the first time I haven’t developed warts on my toes…”

“We know that it’s working,” they said in unison.

Fiona laughed at the thought of George’s tongue being blue and Fred having toe warts. “What do Angelina and Lee think of it?” she asked.

“They passed out hours ago,” Fred replied.

“They hardly know the joyous news!” George added, as he made for his friends who were still asleep.

“I’m sure they’ll be thrilled,” Fiona quipped as she rose from the table. “I’ll see you lot at breakfast!”

When Fiona made it to the Great Hall she found the Goblet of Fire centered in the middle of the hall, on a stool where the Sorting Hat had been when she first arrived in September. Surrounding the Goblet was a golden line, one that Fiona assumed was conjured to prohibit anyone younger than seventeen from putting their name in. She wasn’t sure if the Weasley’s potion would work, in fact she doubted it would. However, there was a twinge of hope that it would somehow pull through, and the Weasley twins would be the Hogwarts candidate for the Tournament.

She sat down at the very empty Gryffindor table, where only a few others sat, and began buttering some toast and poured some tea. Coffee was her preferred morning beverage, but it didn’t seem like it had been put out that morning. It wasn’t long before more people joined for breakfast and she saw Apollo. He was walking with one of the very blonde Beauxbaton girls. Fiona waved him over. To her surprise, he came and the blonde girl followed too.

“Paulie! Do you know of anyone who’s gonna put their name in?” She asked, buttering another slice of toast.

“Not from Hogwarts, but Fleur is,” He replied, revealing the very pretty girl behind him.

“Bonjour,” she said, flashing her perfect teeth.

“Fleur, voici ma sœur, Fiona,” Apollo said in his very cajun accent.

“Bonjour,” Fiona replied, her accent just as thick.

Fleur giggled before taking Fiona’s hand for a shake.

“Eet eez so nice to meet people who speak French. But your French eez very… strange,” she said in a very delicate voice.

Fiona cringed. It wasn’t unlike native French speakers to criticize the different dialects. She had experienced that heavily when they traveled to France on vacation. But it still strummed her the wrong way every time. “Yes, well, at least we cajuns know how to season our food–-”

“Ona,” Apollo interrupted, his eyes wide and shaking his head.

“Quoi?” Fleur asked, looking at Fiona, then to Apollo, hoping he’d translate it.

He smiled at her weakly before replying “ce n’est rien,” and pulling her away from the Gryffindor table.

“See you later, Paulie,” Fiona called. He flashed her a flat smile as he returned to the Ravenclaw table.

Eventually Angelina joined her at the table, looking equally as tired as Fred and George.

“Morning,” Angelina mumbled as she pulled a mug towards her and looked around the table.

“Morning…” Fiona replied, chuckling at Angelina’s apparent exhaustion. Angelina continued to search the table. “Looking for coffee?” Fiona asked.

“Mmm.”

“Don’t think there is any this morning.”

Angelina groaned heavily. “That’s rubbish. Fine, English Breakfast will do.”

“Fred and George told me y’all were up late,” Fiona said.

“I’m sure they did. Seemed to have managed to work the potion,” she said, her head in one hand while the other dunked the tea bag in her mug.

“That’s what they said. Do you believe it’ll work?” she asked.

“Who knows, guess we’ll have to wait and see,” she said, stifling a yawn.

Without much warning, Fred, George, and Lee pummeled into the Great Hall. They exchanged a few excited words with Ron and his friends, their faces in disbelief and the Weasley Twins’ success.

Then the twins made a beeline to the Goblet, flashing a wink at Angelina and Fiona as they went. Fiona suddenly felt nervous. Would their potion actually work? She held her breath. Fred was the first to step through the line. And nothing happened. He flashed an excited grin at George who followed. Still nothing.

“Merlin’s beard, have they done it?” Angelina said under her breath.

Before Fiona could respond, Fred and George had been thrown out of the circle, spending a few seconds flailing in the air, not before landing hard on the stone floor. A couple audible shudders could be heard as they hit the ground. Finally, with a pop, they spawned long white beards, much like Dumbledore’s very own. Angelina spit out her tea and Fiona choked on her toast as they laughed harder than they had before. Lee practically fell over, he laughed so hard.

“I did warn you,” said a deep voice Fiona recognized to be Dumbledore’s. She and Angelina turned to see him standing at the Hall’s entrance, his eyes twinkling. “I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours.”

Without hesitation, Fred and George booked it for the exit. Lee followed them, struggling to catch his breath from the laughter that continued.

Fiona and Angelina continued laughing for a few minutes after. When she assumed she'd calmed down, the image of Fred and George being thrown in the air replayed in her head and she’d start laughing again.Though, Fiona eventually calmed down and she continued eating her breakfast, an assortment of bacon being laid out. As she munched, she noticed Angelina had stopped.

“What?” Fiona asked. It was odd of Angelina to zone out like that.

“Would it be mad of me to put my name in?”

“In the Goblet?” Angelina nodded. Fiona smiled kindly, putting her mug of tea down. “Not mad at all. In fact, I really think you should do it!”

Angelina smiled brightly at that, ripped a piece of her paper napkin of which she furiously wrote her name upon. She stood slowly, her eyes never leaving the slip of paper, and made her way to the Goblet, where she tentatively through the slip in. Fiona applauded her along with a few other students. Before returning to her seat, she exchanged a few words with Ron and his friends. Fiona giving her a confident smile upon her return, and after a few more moments of silence, Angelina leaned towards her. "Don’t tell Fred and George.”

Fiona laughed, knowing how hard they would take it if they found out Angelina applied. “Not a word,” she comforted.

It wasn’t until that evening where the names we’re finally chosen for the Triwizard Tournament. An excited energy buzzed throughout the hall, as everyone joined for dinner and the ceremony. With the anticipation of the tournament, Fiona had almost forgotten that it was Halloween, but was kindly reminded by the decorations of jack-o-lanterns that had been scattered about the Hall. She tried some of the finely prepared food that was served, but didn’t finish it as she was too eager to know the results. Sitting next to her, Angelina also picked at her food. Fiona was sure to give her a few comforting smiles and light pats on the back in reassurance. And Fred, George, and Lee had returned from the hospital wing without their long white beards, didn’t bother to eat. Out of nerves or protest, Fiona wasn’t sure, but she assumed it was the latter. Once the food vanished from its plates and Dumbledore stood to speak, the excitement in the room had reached its peak.

“Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision,” said Dumbledore. “I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions’ names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber where they will be receiving their first instructions.”

With a wave of his wand, all candles were blown out. The blue flames glowed brightly a top the Goblet. Fiona felt attracted to it like a moth to a flame.

"Any second,” Lee Jordan whispered. Fred and George sunk their heads deeply in their hands, clearly dreading the outcome knowing it wasn’t them.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the Goblet’s flames burned a bright red, releasing a piece of paper into the air. Fiona’s stomach lurched, excited to know who the first champion was.

Dumbledore caught the paper in his hand, holding it close to the Goblets flames so he could read the name.

“The champion for Durmstrang,” he read, clearly, “will be Viktor Krum.”

A roaring applause echoed throughout the hall, many cheers of excitement coming from Fiona’s roommates who sat not too far away. She turned to look at Angelina, assuming she’d be just as excited, only to find her as stiff as a board.

“You okay?” Fiona asked, as the crowd’s antics died down.

“If I get picked, I’ll have to compete against HIM. Viktor KRUM!” She said, her voice quivering slightly.

“What do you mean ‘if you get picked’?” Fred asked suddenly, his brows knitted together in confusion.

Angelina’s eyes widened. “Er–”

“Johnson, did you put your name in?” Lee asked in a low voice.

George scowled. “Is there something you’d care to share?”

Angelina bit her lip as if preparing to spill the truth, but before she could the Goblet had already spit out another champion.

“The champion for Beauxbatons,” said Dumbledore, “is Fleur Delacour!”

Fiona looked over to the Ravenclaw table where the blonde french girl she had met earlier stood and made her way to the door behind the staff table. Fiona clapped with everyone else, glancing at Apollo who gave her a wink.

The conversation from before didn’t resume, as both Fred and George refused to make eye contact with Angelina. And finally the Hogwarts champion was revealed.

“The Hogwarts champion,” Dumbledore called, “is Cedric Diggory!”

The entire Hufflepuff table jumped up with intense excitement and roaring applause and cheering. Angelina sunk in her seat.

Fiona comforted her with a pat on the back. “If you think about it,” Fiona started, “now you won’t have to compete against Krum!”

Angelina smiled weakly. “I would’ve liked the chance,” she said, glumly.

Fred shot Angelina a look before muttering, “serves you right.”

Angelina frowned. “Pardon?”

Fred looked away quickly, pouting even further.

“Oi, Freddie, if you’ve got something to say, don't be shy about it!” Angelina said in a raised voice. Before Fred could reply, the Goblet had turned red again. This stopped everyone in their tracks, even Dumbledore. The three champions had already been picked, why was the Goblet releasing another paper? The room was so silent, all that could be heard were the goblet's flames crackling away. Dumbledore caught the piece of paper in his hands, like he did the others, raised it towards the light and read the name, “Harry Potter.”

A few gasps could be heard as everyone turned to look at the dark haired spectacled boy Fiona had only realized recently was Harry Potter. He sat still, with a blank expression on his face and his mouth agape.

Fiona leaned over to Angelina. “How– how old is Harry, again?” she whispered.

“Fourteen,” she replied without moving. That wasn’t possible.

“I didn’t put my name in,” Harry said to his friends. “You know I didn’t.” But they didn’t reply as they were in as much disbelief as the rest of the school.

“Harry Potter!” Dumbledore called again, the sound of his voice startling Fiona. “Harry! Up here, if you please!”

Hermione whispered something to Harry, and pushed him to his feet. Harry, seeming bewildered and confused, stumbled up to Dumbledore.

“Well . . . through the door, Harry,” said Dumbledore. And with that, Harry disappeared through the door behind the staff table.

At once, Dumbledore dismissed everyone to bed. Fiona along with her sixth year friends slowly made their way back to the common room, clearly too confused as to how Harry Potter’s name had been pulled.

“How can a fourteen year old be selected?” Lee asked, scratching his head.

“A fourteen year old, and not us,” added Fred. Angelina snickered at that. Fred scowled.

“Sorry, it’s just. A fourteen year old can pull off an aging potion and you can’t? HA!”

“Oi, come off it, Angelina,” George said, nudging her softly. He was clearly not as upset with Angelina as Fred was.

Angelina covered her mouth as she tried to suppress her laughter. Fiona, sensing Fred’s anger was almost at a boiling point, tried to change the subject. “Maybe it wasn’t a potion after all,” she interjected, “I mean he did survive the killing curse. Maybe he’s more powerful than we think.”

“Powerful? Maybe. Lucky? More likely. Dim? Most definitely!” Angelina said as they turned into the portrait hole.

“That’s true," George agreed. "The amount of times he’s missed quidditch practice for detention with Snape…”

“No, Harry’s smart,” said Lee. “Snape just hates him, that prick.” They all agreed, though Fred had remained particularly quiet.

There was already a bit of a commotion in the Common Room as everyone waited for Harry to return.

“How’d he do it?” Gemma asked.

“No clue,” replied Lucy.

And finally, Harry had returned, but not without being berated by everyone’s questions.

“You should’ve told us you’d entered!” bellowed Fred; he was still in a foul mood though he tried desperately to hide it.

“How did you do it without getting a beard? Brilliant!” roared George.

“I didn’t,” Harry said. “I don’t know how —”

“Oh if it couldn’t be me,” Angelina interrupted, “at least it’s a Gryffindor —”

“You’ll be able to pay back Diggory for that last Quidditch match, Harry!” shrieked Katie.

Gemma joined Katie’s side. “We’ve got food, Harry, come and have some —”

“I’m not hungry, I had enough at the feast —”

Fiona could see he was overwhelmed as everyone continued their questions. Lee had even tried to drape a Hogwarts banner over his shoulder, which Fiona thought was overkill.

“I didn’t,” he said to Lavender Brown, who had asked him the same questions everyone else had, “I don’t know how it happened.”

And finally, after George had tried to convince Harry to show him how he made the aging potion, Harry snapped. “I’m tired!” he yelled, covering his ears. George tried to convince him otherwise. “No, seriously, George,” Harry said, putting his hand up to stop him from speaking further. “I’m going to bed —”

It was quiet after Harry left, everyone still confused as to how a fourteen year old wizard could be selected as a champion.

“He seemed cheerful,” Fred muttered as he sat in front of the fire, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “He could at least be a little grateful he was even picked at all.”

“What if he didn’t enter,” Angelina said, leaning next to the fireplace. Fred scowled at her again. “Wot? Weird things happen to Harry all the time.”

“Oh, shove it, Angelina,” Fred hissed, rolling his eyes. Angelina’s mouth fell open. Fred’s remark clearly stung.

“Oi Freddie, cool it,” George said in a low voice.

“No!” Fred exclaimed, standing suddenly. “You entered and didn’t tell us!”

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings!" Angelina cried out. "I was trying to be a good friend!”

“Rubbish!” Fred bellowed.

Angelina took a step back at that. She looked at the rest of them, her brows knitted together as she breathed heavily, but everyone was too shocked by Fred’s outburst to defend her. Fiona regretted that as she watched Angelina run for her dorm, stifling the sniffles that echoed behind her has she left.

Fiona looked at George, still taking in the verbal quarrel that had ensued. George sighed, putting a hand on Fred’s shoulder–- who was staring intensely into the fire. “C’mon Freddie. Let’s go to bed.” Without hesitation, Fred too made for the stairs, while Lee followed. George flashed Fiona a weak smile before wishing her a soft “goodnight” and following Lee and Fred.

Fiona sat at the fire for a moment, she needed to take in the evening's events. Having friend’s was great, she thought, but she didn’t consider the conflicts that would likely come with it. She would need to know how to navigate that in the future. Next time she could be the one in a fight...

The next morning people were still talking about how Harry Potter could have put his name in the Goblet of Fire. It was even the first thing the girls talked about in the dorm room.

“I can’t believe Harry was able to jinx the cup and put his name in,” Lucy said, braiding her red hair into her usual plait.

“How can yeh be sure he did it 'imself? Barely fourteen, innie?” Gemma added as she pulled her shoes on.

“I don’t know,” Katie said as she came out of the bathroom, “he did kill Professor Quirrell in our second year.”

“Hold on,” said Fiona, startled by this bit of information. “Harry KILLED a professor?”

“Well,” sighed Lucy, “technically he was Voldemort…”

“Aye, so technically it was Quirrell who got ‘imself nicked,” said Gemma.

“Right,” said Katie after pulling on her sweater. “Breakfast? Maybe someone there will have a clue as to how Harry became champion.”

Fiona nodded. She had been ready for breakfast for a while and was eager to both eat and see if her sixth year friends had made up yet.

The great hall was alive with conversation, likely do to the previous day’s mysterious events. And much to Fiona’s disappointment, Angelina was sitting alone and the Weasleys hadn’t arrived yet.
“Hey, would y’all wanna sit with me and Angelina this morning?” Fiona asked her roommates. They nodded and shrugged, and followed Fiona as she made her way to Angelina at the end of the table.

“Morning,” Fiona chirped.

Angelina slowly looked up from her porridge with a distant look in her eye. “Hey,” she said plainly.

“Mind if we join you?”

Angelina nodded and the girls sat across Angelina while Fiona took a seat next to her.

“Johnson, is it true you put your name in the Goblet?” Lucy asked excitedly as she reached for some brown sugar to put in her porridge.

Angelina smiled softly. “S’right.”

“Too bad it wasn’t you!" Katie added, "Would’ve killed to have a Gryffindor AND a girl as part of the tournament!”

Angelina laughed at that. “Yeah, would’ve been cool,” she agreed.

“By the way," Katie continued, "did you read the latest article about Erika Rath in Quidditch Weekly?” Katie said excitedly.

Angelina’s face seemed to finally light up. “Yeah I did. It’s an odd take on her... I’ve always thought she was quite good-- Underrated, really.”

“Here we go again,” Gemma mumbled.

“Katie still unable to convince you to join the team?” Angelina asked, taking a bite of her porridge.

“Unable? No. More like failed,” Lucy said, pouring herself a cup of juice.

Katie laughed. “I still think you should give quidditch a chance! It won’t hurt to try out!”

The playful banter on quidditch continued until the Weasleys arrived.

“Morning Ladies!” charmed George as he took a seat. “What’s the hot topic this morning?”

“The Erika Rath article in Quidditch Weekly. Did you read that?” said Fiona, even though she herself had not read it.

“Ah,” said Fred as he poured himself his own cup of juice, “I haven’t but I heard it’s quite controversial.”

“That’s an understatement!” said Angelina, clearly relieved to see that Fred’s moodiness had subsided. “It was mad.”

Angelina and Fred exchanged a few glances while Katie and George continued the banter. And after a few humble smiles, Fred mouthed “I’m sorry.” Angelina flashed Fred a kind smile and joined back into the quidditch banter.

The rest of the day was fairly tame. It helped that Harry was nowhere to be seen so there wasn’t any cause for gaping or gossip. It was a fairly cool day and Fiona found herself by the lake, reading an American no-maj novel called “To Kill A Mockingbird.” Her father had gifted it to her before she left. It was quite good and it was nice to read in a dialect that reminded her of her home in the south.

“Oi, Jackson!” a voice called from behind. Fiona craned her neck to find George making his way to her. She waved. “What’re you doing spending the last day of the weekend by yourself?”

“Reading.”

“Reading?” he echoed as he sat down beside her. “For pleasure?”

Fiona laughed. “Yeah, my dad gave it to me. It’s really good.”

George seized the book from Fiona’s hands to get a good look at it. “Is this a muggle book? I’ve never heard of it.”

“Yeah, it’s a muggle book. Came out a couple decades ago, but all the nomaj– I mean, muggle kids are required to read it. It’s one of my dad’s favorites so he gave it to me to read.”

“That’s neat,” George smiled, handing the book back to Fiona and looking out onto the lake. “My dad’s super into muggle stuff.”

“I remember,” Fiona smiled.

“Oh that’s right, you met him at the book shop.” She nodded in reply and for a moment there was silence until George cleared his throat. “So… you like Hogwarts so far?”

“Yea, I really do.”

“What’s your favorite part?” George asked as he turned to look at Fiona, his blue eyes glimmering in the dim afternoon light.

Fiona sighed as she tried to recall all the things she enjoyed about Hogwarts. “The history, the architecture, the people. Most definitely the people.”

“We’ve made a good impression, have we?” George smirked.

“A great impression, really. Though your food could use some major work.”

George laughed heartily. “Not a fan?”

Fiona twisted her face and shook her head. “It could use a bucket full of seasoning. Some Old Bay– just… something.”

George laughed again. “They must know how to season their food at Ilvermorny, then...” Fiona widened her eyes and nodded furiously. “What is Ilvermorny like? You never really talk about it.”

“For good reason, mostly. It’s cold, the architecture is fine, the professors are also fine, and the students…”

“Fine?”

“Dreadful.”

“Hey, but you went to Ilvermorny and aren’t so ‘dreadful’,” George said as he pulled out a napkin of chips he had likely stolen from the kitchens. He noticed Fiona eyeing his chips and offered her one. “Don’t tell Hermione I’ve been in the kitchens.” She pulled an imaginary zipper across her lips to show that her lips were sealed.

“The kids at Ilvermorny,” she started again after popping the chip in her mouth, “they’re not nearly as friendly as you all are.”

“Just wait until you meet the Slytherins,” George said, finishing off his chips.

“Oh, I have potions with them. They’re not nearly as bad as half the girls at Ilvermorny. Those broads are vicious.”

“So you like it here?” George asked, looking at her again with his blue eyes.

“I do,” Fiona replied sincerely. There was a moment that lingered between them, enough of a moment that Fiona became flustered. “Uh– so Angelina and Fred… how are they? They getting on again?”

George smiled and looked back out onto the lake. “Yeah, they’re getting on. Fred sometimes gets ahead of himself. He’s lucky I’m here to bring him back to earth. Gave him a good talking to last night.”

“That’s good..." Fiona trailed off.

"What?" George asked, noticing Fiona's lack of focus.

"I just wish I could have supported Angelina better.”

“Nah, Fred and Angelina do this all the time! Fred will yell but then Angelina will squash him on the pitch. It really humbles him.”

“Too bad there's no quidditch this year. I wish I could see y’all play,” Fiona said, rubbing her hands together. It was getting colder by the minute.

“You could always come to our practices! Angelina’s great. And Harry– he’s something else.”

“Maybe I’ll just have to do that!”

George smiled. “C’mon,” he said, putting his arm around Fiona and rubbing her arm as if to warm her up. “Let’s go inside. It’s freezing out here.”

Fiona smiled and collected her things. She was quite cozy in the nook of George’s arm as they made their way back to the castle.

Chapter Text

The next week returned somewhat to normal. Students still gossiped on how Harry could have possibly put his name in the Goblet, but classes commenced as if no such scandal had occurred. Though Snape was sure to make a few remarks in their potions class on Monday.

“In your seats,” Snape commanded as he entered the dungeon. Students– Slytherins mostly– who had been gossiping about Harry quickly returned to their seats. “I know that the events that occurred over the weekend may feel like some great scandal,” he continued, staring down his long nose, “however, a cheat made by the Gryffindors should come as no shock either.” The Slytherins snickered and Fiona could feel Katie fidget in her seat.
“We didn’t cheat,” Katie said under her breath.

Snape stared her down, raising an eyebrow. “Is there something you wish to share, Miss Bell?” he said, his black eyes burning a hole into Katie’s.

“No sir,” she mumbled.

“Pity,” he said as he returned to his table, his black cloak waving behind him. “Now, if you recall from last class, we discovered the properties of moonstone, but perhaps Miss Bell can refresh our memories.”

Katie groaned and said nothing, but Snape continued to glare waiting for her. “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t remember,” she said gruffly.

“Ten points from Gryffindor,” Snape said, almost immediately. Katie was practically seething with hate. Fiona thought she might jump from her seat and strangle Snape herself. “And let this be a reminder,” he continued as he stalked the Gryffindors, “that the events of the Triwizard Tournament are no excuse for you to avoid your studies.”

…

“It’s rubbish!” Katie yelled as they made their way out of the dungeons.

“He’s always had it out for us Gryffindors, Katie, you know that,” Lucy said, trying to catch up to Katie whose anger seemed to fuel her speed.

“Ay… but it… serves him no excuse,” Gemma replied, out of breath.

“Well, it’s done now,” Katie said, stopping as they reached the Great hall. “I’m off to Runes. I’ll see you lot at dinner?” The girls nodded and went their separate ways.

It was rather odd, the vendettas the houses had against one another, Fiona thought. At Ilvermorny, there were more internal disputes within the houses than the houses against one another. Fiona thought it likely had something to do with traditional wizards being against muggles. In America it was the opposite. The Nomaj had it out for the wizards. Thankfully, after centuries, the Nomaj had been convinced that magic didn’t exist, and if you thought it existed, you were crazy. But it had been rather tumultuous in the beginning. Fiona recalled learning the Salem Witch Trials, sending a shiver down her spine.

Tuesday came and it was finally Fiona’s opportunity to join the Hogwarts Orchestra. She had spent her lunch period in the dorm warming up her instrument and trying it out again. It had been a few years since she played the flute, and embouchure had surely suffered slightly. So when she made her way to the Flitwick’s classroom for rehearsal that evening, she was particularly nervous.

“Oi! Fiona, over here!” Lucy called as she spotted Fiona. Fiona joined her with both excitement and nervousness coursing through her veins. Lucy stood next to a very blonde boy whom she introduced to Fiona as Edmund Graves.

“Hi,” he said, his bright blue eyes glimmering in the early evening light. “We’re so happy to have a flute player again.”

“Happy to be here,” Fiona said with a nervous smile.

“Here’s the music we’re playing at the moment,” Edmund said as he handed Fiona the parchment. Fiona took a look at the music and noticed it was titled “Flemel’s Waltz.” She panicked as she had never heard of it, but attempted to maintain a calm demeanor. “Don’t worry about how it sounds today,” Edmund continued. “We know this is your first time seeing the music.” Was her discomfort that obvious?

“Fiona, you’ll sit there,” Lucy said, pointing to a seat in the second to last row. “You’ll be next to Amelia Lewis. She plays the oboe.”

Fiona sat down, tentatively taking out her flute and setting its pieces together. Her mouth felt dry and her fingers sweaty. She knew she was putting far too much pressure on herself than she needed to, but she couldn’t help it.

“You're new,” a voice chirped beside her. It was Amelia, the oboist. She put her hand out for a shake. “Amelia. Hufflepuff. Fifth year.”

Fiona shook her hand, which had a bandage wrapped around her pointer finger. “Fiona. Gryffindor. Fifth year,” she echoed.

Amelia raised her eyebrows. “Blimey, you’re American!” Fiona blushed slightly before nodding. “Well, welcome to Hogwarts! I’m so glad you could join the orchestra. We’ve been desperate for a flute player!”

“Thanks!” Fiona replied, setting her music on the stand in front of her, “But I have to warn you I haven’t–”

Before Fiona could finish, Edmund caught the orchestra’s attention at the conductor’s podium. At once Amelia began playing her concert pitch.

“Christ,” Fiona thought. What was the concert pitch in an orchestra? In a Wind Ensemble it had been a B-flat. But was it the same in an orchestra? She couldn’t remember. She joined in quickly, her muscle memory kicking in as she played an A concert pitch instead of B-flat. If her active memory couldn’t be of much help, maybe her muscle memory could. It took a second for her pitch to adjust, but it did after all. The strings then tuned after the winds, and finally, the very small Professor Flitwick stood at the podium.

“Good evening, students,” he squeaked as he tapped his baton which was larger than his own body. “If you haven’t already provided your performance cloak sizes to Edmund, please do so as soon as possible. It is absolutely essential that you have these cloaks before the end of the semester.” Fiona made a note to do so before the end of rehearsal. “Now, if you’ll please open ‘Flamel’s Waltz’. We will start with Section A, measure twenty three. One– two– three–”

At once the orchestra began playing. Fiona had not been ready and scrambled to open her music to find where they were, but by the time she had found measure twenty-three, she was entirely lost.

“Thirty-two!” Amelia called out trying to help her, but Flitwick had already stopped.

“Now let’s see,” mumbled Flitwick. “Upper winds, let me hear you at measure twenty–three. One– two– three–”

Fiona had been ready that time and played the music as best she could, though her hands felt shaky. It took a couple tries, but she eventually fell into the rhythm of playing again and she found great joy in it. At the end of the rehearsal, she was sure to give Edmund her robe size and find Lucy. Together, they made their way to dinner.

“You were brilliant!” Lucy cheered. “Oh, I told Jude we wouldn’t miss him!!”

“You really think I sounded okay? I haven’t played in years,” she said, nervously scratching her arm.

Lucy celebrated even further at dinner, sharing Fiona’s success with the girls.

“What exactly are we preparing this piece for?” Fiona asked as she served some potatoes on to her plate.

“Fitwith ‘asn’t munshuned va’,” she replied, her mouth full of food.

“Byrne. Swallow first,” Gemma said, poking her fork in Lucy’s direction.

“Sorry,” she said, swallowing her mouth full of food. “Well, we only really have performances for Chinese New Year, but Flitwick’s been adamant about having this piece prepared before the semester’s out.”

“That’s strange. Wonder if there’ll be a Christmas event,” Fiona said.

Lucy shrugged and dug into her dinner.

“Heard you’re piping away on that flute of yours!” A voice said from behind. Fiona craned her neck to find George standing behind her.

“Yeah, had my first rehearsal today,” she said as he sat to her right. To her left Fred had stolen a chip off her plate. “Thief! Get your own plate!” She cried, covering her plate with her hand to prevent any other hands from wandering over and stealing another chip.

Fred laughed as he popped the chip into his mouth. “Whatever you say, pied piper.”

“Good one,” Fiona said sarcastically.

“So when can we hear you play?” George asked, pouring juice into his cup.

“We were just talking about that,” Fiona said.

“You might hear us sooner than you think,” Lucy said.

“What song? Anything we’d know?” Fred asked, serving up his own plate.

“Flamel’s Waltz? I’ve never heard of it,” said Fiona.

“A waltz— like a dance?” Gemma asked.

Katie just about choked on her drink. “We’re having a dance?”

“Who’s to say?” said Lucy.

“But— but I can’t dance!” Katie cried.

“Sure you can, Katie. We’ve seen you on the pitch!” George laughed.

“Quidditch and dancing are hardly the same thing,” Katie argued.

“Well, what do you do for prom?” Fiona asked. An immediate silence fell over the table as they all stared at her.

“Prom?” echoed Katie.

“Wot’s tha’?” said Gemma.

“It’s a dance. The upperclassmen get one at Ilvermorny…” Fiona explained, though there was still no response, “you don’t have prom? Even the Nomaj have prom!” They all shook their heads and mumbled “no”. Fiona shrugged.

“Maybe we’ll get something close to one!” Gemma said. Katie groaned and shrunk in her seat.

“Cheer up, Bell! Just have to find a partner who’ll lead the way on the dancefloor,” said George.

“You think we’ll have to find dates?” Asked Lucy. Katie groaned again, shrinking further into her seat.

“That’s what we do for prom, at least,” Fiona confirmed.

“You think Jude Squaggle will still be dating that cow, Cherie, by the time the dance comes around?” Lucy asked.

“I KNEW you liked him,” yelled Katie, pointing an accusatory finger in at Lucy, and laughing hysterically.

Lucy burned a bright red. But it wasn’t long before Gemma came to her defense.

“Oi,” she blurted, “we didn’t make you feel bad fer fancying Oliver Wood, did we?”

It was Katie’s turn to burn a bright red, and it made matters worse that her teammates, Fred and George, sat with them.

“Shove it, Gemma!” Katie hissed.

Fred and George looked at each other cautiously.

“Well!” Fred chirped, as he slowly stood from his seat. “Lee’s waiting for us over there so… I think we’ll just…” his voice faded as he walked away.

Georged laughed, patting Fiona’s shoulder. “See you, Jackson. And Katie,” he said leaning over her shoulder, “don’t sweat it. Your secret’s safe with us.”

Katie groaned again, laying her forehead on the table. Fiona’s face hurt as she tried desperately to suppress her laughter.

The week passed quickly with the anticipation of the first task. Excitement filled the air of the halls again, especially once Rita Skeeter’s interviews were released in the Daily Prophet.

“Merlin…”, Katie started at the breakfast table as she read her issue of the Daily prophet, “she makes Harry sound like a–”

“A prat?” Gemma interrupted. Lucy giggled at that. Katie looked up from her paper and nodded with wide eyes. “Ay, read it this mornin’. Skeeter makes em all sound like prats.”

“So, where should we take Fiona first? Zonkos?” said Lucy, finishing her morning toast. It was the first weekend that upperclassmen were allowed in the neighboring town of Hogsmeade. Fiona was itching to walk the ancient village.

“Definitely Honeydukes,” said Katie.

“I’d also fancy a butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks,” Gemma said pointedly.

“Yes, don’t worry Gemma, we’ll go to The Three Broomsticks,” Katie said irritably. “This one goes mad if we don’t go to The Three Broomsticks on Hogsmeade weekend.”

“You have a problem,” Lucy teased.

“Piss off, Lucy. It’s not like they ‘ave alcohol in it!”

So the girls walked Hogsmeade, gazing at the gorgeous candies that Honeydukes displayed, checking out the jinxes and jokes Zonkos had (Fiona, not at all surprised to see Fred and George there), and finally, much to Gemma’s excitement, and having a butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks. It was decently crowded with other students also making the pub their destination.

“You lot find us a seat” said Gemma as she took her coat off. “I’ll get us some drinks.”

It took some searching, but the girls were able to find a spot once a few locals had got up and left.

“Why’s Hermione by herself?” asked Lucy, as they made themselves comfortable.

“She’s usually studying when she doesn’t need to,” Katie scoffed.

“Right,” said Gemma as she approached, carefully holding a tray of four butterbeers that dribbled over their mug’s rims. “Four butterbeers.”

Fiona took a sip and quite enjoyed the flavor of the sweet beverage. She looked around to see what the other students were drinking and noticed the badges some of they were wearing.

“Potter stinks?” Fiona said squinting at the badge Justin Finch-Fletchley was proudly dawning from across the pub.

“Ay, the Hufflepuffs seem quite proud of that one,” Gemma said as she sipped her butterbeer.

“It’s so unlike them,” said Lucy. “And naturally, the Slytherans have chipped in.”

“They have it out for Potter, that’s for sure,” Katie said before taking a rather large swig of her beverage.

“The first task is Tuesday, innit?” Gemma asked.

“Yeah it is. Do we know what the task is yet?” Fiona added, taking a long gaze at the man running the bar. He looked over worked.

Katie slammed her mug down after chugging her last drop of butterbeer. “Not a clue,” she said, licking her lips, “I reckon they won’t mention anything until the day of.”

“If it’s those blast-ended skrewts, I reckon the champions won’t stand a chance,” said Lucy. They all laughed as they recalled Hagrid’s unfortunate situation with the skrewts.

“Having fun without us?” said a voice from behind Fiona. She craned her neck to find, yet again, the Weasley twins lurking behind her.

“Eavesdropping again, Weasleys? It’s a nasty habit you have,” said Katie, who was joking only slightly.

“Eavesdropping or just at the right place at the right time?” Fred replied. “Anyway, we’re just up to get another drink”

“That and we’ve had just about enough of our dear brother, Ronald,” said George, nodding to his table where Lee and Ron still sat.

“Surprised he’s not sitting wiv Hermione,” said Gemma.

“No, their trio’s having a bit of a tiff at the moment,” Fred said in a low voice. Not that Ron or Hermione would be able to hear, there were too many people in the pub.

“What happened?” Fiona asked.

“Well, Ronald won’t admit it, but he’s a bit jealous of Harry,” George said, less worried that his brother would hear.

“Jealous he got picked for the championship?” Katie inquired.

They both nodded.

“That’s silly,” said Lucy. “I mean, of course we all wish we could be champion…”

“Yeah,” Fred interrupted, “Ron’s a bit angry that Harry didn’t tell him he was going to put his name in.”

“But Harry didn’t do it,” Fiona said confidently. They all looked at her suddenly.

“How can yeh be sure?” asked Gemma.

“Well,” Fiona started, outlining the rim of her mug, “He seemed pretty adamant about it. And, I don’t know Harry well, but from what everyone’s told me, he doesn’t seem like the type who would lie. Especially to his friends.”

There was a brief moment of silence before Katie chipped in. “I agree,” she said. “I mean, weird things happen to Harry all the time. AND someone’s tried to kill him at Hogwarts every year. Remember Sirius Black last year?”

The girls nodded.

“Say that’s true,” George started, “but he’s just using that as a reason for us to believe he DIDN’T put his name in the Goblet…”

Fiona shook her head. “Weasley,” she started, rather disappointed he would even consider the other option. “Do you REALLY think Harry’s the type to do something like that?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say he WASN’T–”

“George…”

“No… I guess not.”

“Right then,” Fred said suddenly, knocking on the table as if to conclude the conversation. “Another butterbeer?”

“Yeah, that’d be perfect,” said George, straightening up. “See you, Jackson.”

“What hold do you have on George?” Lucy asked upon their departure.

“What do you mean?” Fiona replied.

“He folded so quickly,” said Katie, her eyes wide, “I’d kill to have that ability, especially on the pitch!”

Fiona shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. “He was being ridiculous about Harry.”

“He fancies you,” said Lucy.

Fiona frowned. “What makes you say that?” she said, in a rather challenging tone.

Lucy only shrugged. “A hunch.”

Fiona shook her head. There was no way George could fancy her. He barely knew her. And besides, there were plenty of other girls at Hogwarts he knew better. Still, the idea that George could like her excited Fiona ever so slightly.

It was finally Tuesday, the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, and the school was certainly buzzing with Energy. Fiona was a bit bummed, however, due to Orchestra rehearsal being canceled for the evening events, however the morning classes ensued as usual.

“Why do we even have classes at all?” Lucy whispered, while Professor Flitwick was reviewing the Summoning Charm. They had already learned the Summoning Charm, Accio, and Fiona felt quite confident in her ability to use it, but nonetheless Flitwick always went over charms twice.

“What do you mean?” Fiona whispered back, a little more obviously though Flitwick would never take notice.

“I can hardly focus!”

“Well it’s a good thing we’re just going over content we already know, then.”

“Right, but McGonagall’s probably got a whole lesson prepared,” Lucy said, cringing at the thought of having to use her brain.

But when they arrived at Transfigurations, they were surprised to find that there was no lesson prepared at all. In fact, just like Flitwick, McGonagall only prepared a review.

“It’s comforting to know that not even the teachers can focus,” whispered Gemma.

“Quiet, Miss Droll,” said McGonagall. Gemma smiled guiltily, and returned back to her paper. It seemed that concentration suffered, but McGonagall’s expectation of a quiet classroom had not.

After what felt like hours, the class period ended and the girls raced to their dorms to change out of their uniforms and into spirited, yet warm, clothing.

“Do you think I’ll need a hat?” Lucy asked, lacing up her boots.

“Let me see,” Katie replied, opening the window and sticking her hand out to test the chill. “It’s a bit nippy, but if the wind picks up you’ll want a hat.”

“I haven’t got a red Gryffindor scarf,” said Fiona, whose wardrobe mostly consisted of pinks and purples.

“Here, have mine,” said Gemma, handing her the classic red and gold scarf. “I’ve an extra.”

Warm, red, and fashionable, the girls made their way to the common room. Fred and George were already attempting to sell their Weasley Wizard Wheezes products, pressuring a redheaded girl into buying something when Fiona approached.

“No, George, I DON’T want that!” the girl said, placing her hands on her hips in a defiant stance.

“But what if you have to go DURING the tasks? What will you do then?” said Fred, shaking his head.

“I think I’ll manage, thanks,” she said, starting to walk away, nearly running into Fiona.

“Ope, sorry,” Fiona said, stepping aside to let the girl through.

“Whatever you do, don’t buy anything they offer. No deal is worth making if it’s with them,” she said before tossing her long red hair over her shoulder and starting for the portrait hole.

“Oi, Ginny! Way to promote your brothers’ business!” George said.

“Piss off!” she called as she walked through the portrait hole.

Fiona laughed. “Is that your sister? I didn’t know you had one,” she said, eyeing the dangerous looking products in their orange briefcase.

“Yeah, she’s the youngest of us,” said Fred.

“But the way she bosses us around you’d think she’s the oldest,” remarked George. “Oi, Jackson, care to try our new product? It’ll stop you up!”

“Perfect for a long quidditch match,” added Fred.

“Or even a task in the Triwizard Tournament,” George winked.

Fiona paused, taking in what the Weasley’s just told her. “What are you calling it?” she asked, curious, though she would never purchase one.

“It’s a working title,” said George.

“We’re thinking ‘Stopper-Upper Stocking-Stuffer,” added Fred, who seemed quite proud of the name.

“Okay, well where I’m from we just call it ‘Imodium’,” said Fiona, rather unimpressed by the name.

“So it’s a working title,” George waved his hand dismissively. “We still think you should give it a go!”

“Not today,” Fiona grimaced. “Come and find me when I’ve got the stomach flu, then we can talk.”

Together, after connecting with Lee and Angelina, they made their way down to the enclosure where the first task would commence. The enclosure was surrounded by stands where students and staff found their seats. Rocky terrain lined the floor of the enclosure and a pile of sticks was woven into what looked like a nest. As Katie had predicted, the wind had picked up and it was indeed chilly. She was thankful for Gemma’s scarf.

“What do you think it could be?” Angelina asked, looking around for more clues. Everyone had their guesses but it wasn’t confirmed once a whistle was blown and Cedric emerged from the champion’s tent. The Hufflepuffs roared with cheers, as did members of other houses. The Gryffindors clapped respectfully, but it wasn’t Cedric they were there to support.

And out came a dragon, a very large intimidating one at that. The crowd ooh’d and ahh’d as no one had yet seen a dragon up close before. Fiona’s jaw, however, was on the floor.

“Dragons?” she said in disbelief. “They have to fight dragons?”

And as if answering Fiona’s question Ludo Bagman confirmed that Cedric’s goal was to steal her golden egg without facing defeat from the Swedish Short-Snout.

“That’s mental!” Angelina said.

“Sure but it makes for GREAT entertainment!” said Lee, who clapped his hands in excitement.

“But what about Harry? He’ll have to do the same?” Fiona asked.

“Seems like it,” George shrugged. “But don’t worry, Harry’s fought off a Troll–”

“An Acromantula–” added Fred.

“And a Basilisk,” said George. “I’m sure a dragon won’t be a challenge for him.”

Without waiting any longer, Cedric lunged for the golden egg, not without defense from the Dragon who tried whipping her tail at him and missed him by only inches.

“Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow,” Bagman announced.

Fiona bit her nails nervously as Cedric dodged many attempts by the dragon’s tail. He seemed to be agitating the Dragon more, using spells Fiona wasn’t familiar with.

“He’s taking risks, this one!” Bagman announced.

Cedric had agitated the Dragon again and again, until finally she breathed fire. Cedric, thinking quickly, attempted to reflect the fire against the dragon, though not well enough as the fire nicked his face.. They all hoped some degree of burn would be left on the dragon, but she remained unharmed.

“Clever move — pity it didn’t work!” Bagman cheered.

“I wish he’d just shut up!” said Lee who had been side-eyeing Bagman since his commentating began.

“Oh, please, you’re just jealous that they didn’t ask you to commentate on the Tournament,” Angelina teased.

“Maybe I am!” Lee replied, sticking his nose in the air. “But don’t tell me I wouldn’t do a better job than Bagman is!”

Finally, after attempting various spells, Cedric transfigured a boulder into a red dog which ran around the enclosure and barked madly, distracting the dragon. Cedric seized the opportunity and snatched the egg. The crowd erupted into cheers. Even Fiona, though it was more out of relief that Cedric wasn’t scorched to death.

“Very good indeed!” Bagman was shouting. “And now the marks from the judges!”

From where she was sitting, she couldn’t see the judges scores, but she assumed they were great by the Hufflepuffs' reactions. Cedric raised a triumphant fist in the air and returned to the tent.

“One down, three to go!” Bagman yelled as the whistle blew again. “Miss Delacour, if you please!”

The platinum blonde girl shyly appeared, her hair in a ponytail, and sporting a athletic skirt and top. And on the other side of the enclosure stood a Common Welsh Green, slinking protectively around her egg. The stands were almost silent, curious as to what would happen next. Fleur and the dragon stared at each other cautiously for only a moment before Fleur tried making a break for it. The dragon uncoiled itself, attempting to use its tail to whip Fleur from coming any further. It came down on Fleur fast, though she was quick to lunge out from underneath it.

“Oh, I’m not sure that was wise!” cried Bagman.

“No shit,” Lee mumbled under his breath.

Fleur whipped out her wand, attempting to summon the egg, but to no avail it didn’t come. The dragon marched towards the small blonde, roaring loudly.

“Stupify!” cried Fleur, as she pointed her wand at the dragon. The spell only angered the dragon more, as it spread its wings, flapping them angrily, so she hovered a few feet above fleur. The dragon inhaled greatly, and spewed out a furious line of fire. Fleur, who was able to predict what would come next, hid behind a large boulder, protecting herself from the line of fire.

“Good lord, I thought she’d had it then!” said Bagman.

Fleur caught her breath and reappeared from behind the boulder, pointing her wand intentionally at the dragon. She waved it a few times, and the dragon began to stumble. Its breathing slowed, and the dragon collapsed into a deep slumber. Fleur took her chance to seize the egg, but was torched by the dragon, who breathed fire when it snored. Fleur screamed and did a funny dance until her skirt was out, and triumphantly took the egg. The crowd erupted into cheers; the Beauxbaton students wiping their nervous tears and hugging each other frantically.

“A bit much, don’t you think?” Angelina said as she watched the Beauxbaton students comfort each other.

Fiona shrugged. “They’re French. They’re always ‘a bit much.’”

It wasn’t long before Viktor Krum appeared where the others had stood. Across from him seethed the Chinese Fireball, already irritated and on edge. They both stood, yards from one another, surveying their opponent. And without warning the dragon rushed towards Krum, letting out a blast of fire. Krum used his wand to counter the fire, though she wasn’t close enough to be scorched. He leapt forward, his wand in the air, shouting a curse at the dragon. The Dragon fell backward, and attempted to get up but stumbled. He seemed lost.

“Blimey,” said Angelina. “He’s blinded the poor beast!”

The dragon, still blind and stumbling, sniffed around for Krum. But on her search for her opponent, accidentally squashed the real dragon eggs.

Fiona gasped. “Oh no!” she cried. She hated watching these poor beasts get tortured. While the dragon was still blinded, Krum ran underneath her and leapt for the golden egg.

“That’s some nerve he’s showing,” said Bagman. “And — yes, he’s got the egg!”

The crowd cheered, amazed at how quickly all of the champions had retrieved their eggs. And without warning, Harry appeared. He seemed so small compared to Krum, and even smaller compared to the Hungarian Horntail that stood at the other end of the enclosure, crouched around its eggs. It snarled at Harry, smoke billowing out of its nose. The stands were rowdy, some in a positive attitude, some not.

“Naturally they give the worst-tempered dragon to the smallest champion. It’s sick,” cried George.

“C’mon Harry!” Fiona and her friends cried.

More noise from the crowd followed as they watched Harry, curious as to what he would do. He stood still, staring at the dragon for only a moment more, before pointing his wand at the sky.

“Accio, Firebolt!” He cried, but nothing happened.

“Is he allowed to do that?” Lee asked.

“I don’t know but it’s the best chance he’s got. Harry on a broom is invincible!” said Angelina.

Moments later, a broomstick flew through the air, straight into Harry’s hands. He swung his legs over the broom and soared off into the air. The horntail pulled its head back, inhaling and preparing to breathe out a furious breath of fire. Harry diverted the line of fire with great agility. Fiona and her friends gasped, as it had been very close.

“Great Scott, he can fly!” yelled Bagman. “Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?”

Harry made numerous attempts at snatching the egg, but the Horntail was adamant about protecting her eggs. She breathed fire and whipped her tail, nailing Harry in the shoulder at one point. Fiona clung to George’s arm, it was a true nailbiter.

Harry, who had disoriented the Dragon away from her eggs, dove straight for the nest where he collected the great golden egg.

“Look at that!” Bagman yelled. “Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!”

The Gryffindor side of the stands was mad with excitement. Fiona hugged all of her friends so fiercely. She suddenly understood why the Beauxbaton students had all been crying.

It wasn’t long before the final scores and placements of each champion was announced. Fleur came in third, Cedric in second, and Harry and Viktor were tied for first. The news of Harry’s placement sent the Gryffindors into a frenzy. They hollered with joy and glee and raced back to the common room where they were to celebrate even further.

Fiona and Angelina threw up streamers while Dean Thomas hung hand-drawn banners, Fred and George snuck down to the kitchens for snacks, while Lee had set up Filibusters Fireworks. The Gryffindors prepared for Harry's arrival with great excitement.

They only had to wait a little longer before Harry arrived. Lee was sure to set off the fireworks once Harry and his friends stepped through the door. Everyone cheered and welcomed him in. Harry, who seemed like he hadn’t eaten in a week, chowed down on all of the food that Fred and George had nicked. Though he didn’t eat in silence, as everyone questioned him about the golden egg of which he left on a table to eat.

“Blimey, this is heavy,” said Lee, picking up the golden egg and weighing it in his hands. “Open it, Harry, go on! Let’s just see what’s inside it!”

“He’s supposed to work out the clue on his own,” Hermione said swiftly. “It’s in the tournament rules. . . .”

Harry muttered something into Hermione’s ear that only she heard, but it was enough to shut her up.

“Yeah, Harry! Open it!” said Fiona, eager to see what would happen

“Go on, then!” added Katie, who was also curious.

Harry set down his plate of food, taking the egg back from Lee. He dug his finger into a crack within the egg, and pried it open. At once a terrible screeching noise wailed throughout the room. Fiona dropped her plate of food to cover her ears. She had never heard something so awful, except for maybe the time Apollo tried learning the violin.

“Shut it!” Fred bellowed, his hands over his ears.

“What was that?” said Seamus Finnigan, one of Harry’s roommates, who was staring at the egg as Harry slammed it shut again. “Sounded like a banshee. . . . Maybe you’ve got to get past one of those next, Harry!”

“It was someone being tortured!” said Neville, who had gone very white and spilled sausage rolls all over the floor. “You’re going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!”

“Don’t be a prat, Neville, that’s illegal,” said George. “They wouldn’t use the Cruciatus Curse on the champions. I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing . . . maybe you’ve got to attack him while he’s in the shower, Harry.”

“Want a jam tart, Hermione?” said Fred. Hermione looked doubtfully at the plate he was offering her. Fred grinned. “It’s all right,” he said. “I haven’t done anything to them. It’s the custard creams you’ve got to watch —”

Neville, who had just bitten into a custard cream, choked and spat it out.

Fred laughed. “Just my little joke, Neville. . . .”

Hermione took a jam tart. Then she said, “Did you get all this from the kitchens, Fred?”

“Blimey, here we go,” muttered Angelina.

“Yep,” said Fred, grinning at her. He put on a high-pitched squeak and imitated a house-elf. “‘Anything we can get you, sir, anything at all!’ They’re dead helpful . . . get me a roast ox if I said I was peckish.”

“How do you get in there?” Hermione said in an innocently casual sort of voice.

“Easy,” said Fred, “concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pear, and it giggles and —” He stopped and looked suspiciously at her. “Why?”

“Nothing,” said Hermione quickly.

“Going to try and lead the house-elves out on strike now, are you?” said George. “Going to give up all the leaflet stuff and try and stir them up into rebellion?”

Fiona snickered at the thought. She never had a house elf, but she knew how much they challenged Hermione’s attempt to free them. She had heard about how messy they left her dorm after she tried to leave various objects around, ones that would free them.

“Don’t you go upsetting them and telling them they’ve got to take clothes and salaries!” said Fred warningly “You’ll put them off their cooking!”

Just then, Neville caused a slight diversion by turning into a large canary. Fiona and Angelina just about spit out their drink as they laughed at the bird-like Neville.

“Oh — sorry, Neville!” Fred shouted over all the laughter. “I forgot — it was the custard creams we hexed —”

Neville finally molted after a few more minutes and joined in on the laughter. Poor kid, thought Fiona. But at least he could take a joke.

“Canary Creams!” Fred shouted to the excitable crowd. “George and I invented them — seven Sickles each, a bargain!”

“Those boys,” started Katie, “always trying to make business.”

“Hey, I’ve got my dad’s boombox!” shouted Lucy. “Maybe I’ll go get it! We can play music and dance.”

“Boombox?” questioned Katie, who had never heard of the mechanism.

“It’s a muggle thing. Amplifies music. I’ve got one at home too!” Fiona said. She thought about her various tapes she left in the London flat and thought about asking her mother to send them. She especially missed listening to Hole’s “Live Through This”.

Lucy returned to the common room with a large black boombox. It looked very different from the one Fiona’s had which was silver.

“Woah, what model is this?” she asked, standing over Lucy and inspecting the device.

“It’s an AIWA XR90!” Lucy replied as she popped a tape in, “It’s my dad’s from a couple years ago.”

“It looks so futuristic!” Fiona admired, “Mine is from ‘88. It’s a SABA RCP-692.”

“Oh I’ve heard of that one! I heard it’s great!” Lucy said, pressing play. At once a jangly guitar and drums came through, followed by the most enchanting voice Fiona had ever heard.

“Who is this? I’ve never heard of them,” Fiona said, bopping along to the beat.

“The Sundays! They’re my favorite,” Lucy said, joining in on the beat.

“Her voice is amazing.”

Lucy nodded furiously. “Harriet Wheeler! She has the voice of an angel, that one!” she said, turning up the music and pulling Seamus Finnigan to his feet for a dance. Fiona stayed by the boombox, admiring the song that played.

“ACTUALLY THERE’S SOMETHING I’VE FOUND

IS THAT WE’RE JUST FLESH AND BLOOD

WELL, NOW THERE’S SOMETHING I’VE FOUND

IS THAT WE’RE JUST SKIN AND BONE”

“Cheerful lyrics, innit,” said Gemma, munching on her snacks.

“Who cares, her voice is amazing!” Fiona replied, her eyes closed as she bopped along to the beat.

Gemma laughed at that then tapped Fiona and pointed at Lucy who was still dancing with Seamus. “Think she’s finally gotten over Jude Squaggle?”

Fiona giggled and watched Seamus attempt to dance but he was tripping over his own feet more than actually dancing. “You can’t blame her. It’s hard not to fall in love with someone who dances like that” Fiona teased.

The first song finished and a new one started. It was more upbeat than the one before, but just as jangly, and Harriet’s voice clearer than ever. More students joined in the dancing, even Gemma, who was invited to dance by Dean. Fiona remained by the boombox, perfectly content to just listen to The Sundays, until George approached her.

“Don’t dance?” he asked her.

“I’m just entranced by this band. Ever heard of The Sundays?” George shook his head. “Me neither, but I’ll definitely be looking for a tape as soon as I get the chance.”

“Tape will have to come later,” George said, gently taking her hand and pulling her into the center where the others danced.

Fiona was hesitant at first. She loved to dance on her own, but had never danced with someone else let alone another boy. George took her hands twisting her side to side, she was stiff at first but she finally loosened up. It seemed like the whole common room was in good spirits and dancing to the music. Angelina and Fred had also partnered up, Fred aggressively spinning her away and pulling her in again. It seemed a bit violent to Fiona, but Angelina seemed to be laughing and enjoying herself.

Things died down once Harry had gone to bed, but at that point it was one o’clock in the morning. Fiona yawned and Lucy packed up her boom box.

“I think I’m off to bed,” she told George, who had invited her to not one, not two, not three, but MANY dances.

“I tire you out?” George replied with a smirk.

“Exhausted me, really,” Fiona teased. “No, enjoyed the dancing. Really.” Fiona smiled at George and he smiled back. She wished him a brief goodnight before starting towards the stairs of her dormitory.

“Then we should do it again, sometime,” George called to her. Fiona turned. “Dancing.”

“I’d love that,” Fiona said with a sincere smile.

Chapter Text

Things settled down after the first task. Fiona no longer saw “Potter Stinks” badges, and the Hufflepuffs seemed to be less cocky about their own champion (seeing as Harry beat him fair and square). But with that, classes returned to normal, and it was expected that the students’ attention returned as well. Though Fiona couldn’t contain her excitement. She hated that they had to wait another couple of months until the next task. Everything about the first one had been so exciting. Even more so, the celebrations that followed. Fiona found herself thinking about dancing with George. He wasn’t the best at it, but it was the fact that he wanted to dance with her in the first place that set her heart in motion. She hoped to find a time to dance with him again. That chance would come sooner than expected.

Fiona had just finished copying her Transfigurations homework assignment when Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.

“Now before you depart to your next classes,” said McGonagall, her bun tighter than ever, “I have something to say to you.”

Fiona flashed glances at her roommates but they looked just as confused.

McGonagall began: “The Yule Ball is approaching.” immediately a lightbulb went off in Fiona’s Head. Her suspicions had been true, and the piece they had been practicing relentlessly in orchestra was indeed for an upcoming ball. McGonagall continued. “It is a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above — although you may invite a younger student if you wish — Dress robes will be worn and the ball will start at eight o’clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall.”

Fiona turned to find Katie’s Gaze as she recalled her distaste for formal dancing. As Fiona expected, Katie looked horrified. Lucy, who sat beside her, was desperately holding back laughter.

McGonagall paused and stared at the students. “The Yule Ball is of course a chance for us all to — er — let our hair down,” she said, as if in pain.

“HA!” Lucy exploded, which encouraged other students to stifle a giggle. Katie nailed her side with her elbow to get her to stop, but it only made things worse. She was hysterical.

“Miss Byrne!” McGonagall scolded. “What could possibly be so amusing?”

Lucy had reduced to giggles, but she still couldn’t stop.

“N–nothing professor– hehe– it’s just– HA— I think– I’ll just step outside,” Lucy said through a parade of giggles as she slowly stood to excuse herself. Fiona snickered as she could hear Lucy giggling all the way down the hall. Katie looked unamused.

“As I was saying,” McGonagall said after a deep sigh. “The Yule Ball is not an event where we will relax the standards of behavior we expect from Hogwarts students. I will be most seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarrasses the school in any way.”

The bell rang and Fiona and her remaining roommates exited into the hall.

“I’ll kill her!” Katie said, clearly upset at Lucy’s hysterics.

“What? She was just laughing,” said Fiona, who did find it a little amusing.

“Yeah! At me!” Katie huffed, crossing her arms. “It’s rather embarrassing that I can’t dance!”

“I don’t think she was laughin’ at the fact yeh canny dance,” said Gemma– always the voice of reason. “I think it was cos yeh looked so terrified!”

“Right, Fiona agreed, “then you add McGonagall saying the phrase ‘let your hair down’, is a recipe for disaster. I’m surprised I wasn’t hysterical either.”

“Katie!” Lucy called from down the hall as she ran to catch up to her. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t laughing at you– well... I was– but I wasn’t trying to make fun of you I swear! And then McGonagall talked about letting her hair down and I was done for! Please forgive me!”

“It’s alright, Lucy,” Katie said, putting a hand up to stop her from rambling any further. “Just don’t laugh at me again,”

“I won’t,” Lucy said, shaking her head vigorously.
Katie flashed Lucy a soft smile, and adjusted her bookbag strap.

“Right… well, I’m off to Arithmancy. See you lot later.”

Katie started off in the other direction while the other girls had Care of Magical Creatures.

“Katie, wait!” Fiona said, running after her. “You know, I can help you.”

Katie knitted her brows together in confusion. “Help me?”

“With dancing, I mean.” Fiona said in a low voice, knowing it was a sensitive topic for Katie. “I’m no expert, but I can certainly help you feel more confident!”

Katie hesitated as she looked at Gemma and Lucy, who were across the hall waiting for Fiona. “I’ll think about it,” she said.

“Great,” Fiona said. As she made her way back to Gemma and Lucy.

“What was that about?” Gemma asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said dismissively. “C’mon, let’s go see which student will get their finger bit off today!”

“It’s the only reason I keep taking CoMC,” Lucy laughed, as they made their way outside for class.

The next couple weeks felt like chaos for Fiona. She never realized how asking someone to a dance could be so nerve wracking, but it was troubling her roommates.

“Right, so I think I’ll ask Seamus to the ball then,” Lucy said as she primped before they all headed down to breakfast.

“Not Jude?” asked Gemma, who was hanging on to Lucy’s bedpost, barely awake.

“No, he’s with Cherie, isn’t he?”

“Last I heard they were finished,” Katie said as she exited the bathroom.

Lucy looked up from her hand mirror. “What?” she said.

Katie shrugged. “I thought you knew…”

Lucy shook her head and continued to apply her mascara. “Doesn’t matter now. I’m taking Seamus. I’ve decided.”

Fiona smiled and admired Lucy’s decision as she sat on the bed waiting for her roommates to get ready.

“Who do you think you’ll take, Fiona?” asked Lucy, looking at Fiona through the reflection in her hand mirror.

Fiona raised her eyebrows, unprepared for that question.

“Yeah, is there anyone you want to take?” Katie asked as she laced up her shoes.

“Um– I haven’t really thought about it…” Fiona said. She was lying, of course she thought about it. Who else would she take other than–

“Well yeh’d have to take George,” Gemma said confidently.

“George?” she asked, trying to play dumb. “Why him?"

“He so clearly fancies you!” Lucy cried.

“And you so evidently fancy HIM,” Katie added.

Fiona blushed furiously, though she tried to hide it. “I don’t know where you got that idea.”

“Oh, come off it, Fiona!” Lucy said, jumping off her bed, her makeup items falling onto the floor. “We saw the way you two looked at each other when we had that party.”

“We just danced, is all,” Fiona said, trying to brush off her friends as she put her cloak on, though the interrogation was making her anxious.

“So when do you think you’ll ask him?” Katie pressed.

“I think that’s enough, girls,” Gemma said, so clearly tapped into Fiona’s overwhelmed emotions. “If Fiona wants to ask George, that's her business to share.”

“Aww Gemma, you’re always ruining the fun,” said Lucy.

“Or just bein’ the voice of reason,” she replied, her hands on her hips. Fiona was sure to flash her a grateful smile before they made their way down to breakfast. She was one foot in the Great Hall when she ran right into a familiar face.

“Ona,” Apollo said, a little shocked by the physical intrusion. “Sorry, I didn’t see you.”

“Hi Paulie,” Fiona smiled then turned to her roommates. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.” They smiled, and started for the Gryffindor table, not before waving hello to Apollo. “I’m sorry we haven’t talked much. I’ve just been so caught up…” Fiona looked over to the table where George sat.

“It’s no worries, I’ve been a bit caught up too,” he replied, looking over to the Ravenclaw table. There sat a very blonde girl and Fleur (who was of course accompanied by a few of her friends).

“I see you’ve grown close to Fleur,” Fiona said, distaste in her tone.

“Ona, stop. She’s nice–”

“What? I didn’t say anything–”

“No, but I knew what you meant–”

“Oh, and what did I mean, exactly?”

Apollo sighed and looked at the ceiling of the Great Hall, which displayed a gray sky, similar to the one outside. “Forget it,” he said finally before starting back towards the Ravenclaw table.

“Paulie, wait,” Fiona said, regretting the way the conversation went. He stopped and turned, a look of impatience on his face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” Apollo gave a tight-lipped smile. “Look, you know them better than I do. Maybe I should get to know them… Besides– I want you to get to know my friends too.”

Apollo looked past Fiona to where the Weasley twins were. “What, those two idiots who tried to put their names in the goblet– Ow!”

Fiona had hit Apollo upside the head. “Don’t be a hypocrite! And besides they’re not idiots– well… maybe they are. But they’re good. And they’re nice to me. When was the last time the kids at school were nice to me?”

Guilt flashed across Apollo’s face for only a moment, but it was long enough that Fiona saw it. “Okay, when’s the next hogsmeade outing? Maybe we can all meet up at The Three Broomsticks…”

“Next week. I think that’d be a great idea. But I have one request…” Apollo sighed again, heavily that time. “Please don’t behave the way you did on the train–”

“Ona–”

“No, I mean it! You were so immature. I’d hate for my friends to think you’re like that. I know you’re not.”

Apollo sighed for the third time. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll be as cheerful as you are on christmas day,” he said, throwing out sarcastic jazz hands.

“Perfect, see you then,” she said as she made for the table with her friends.

“Ah, there she is!” said Fred.

“Our favorite American!” added George. Fiona smiled and joined them, serving herself up some breakfast. She ate a lot that morning as she felt rather hungry. Fortunately there were plenty of sausages to go around.

“Take it easy, Jackson,” said Fred, who ogled at Fiona as she scarfed down her breakfast.

She shrugged. “I’m starving!”

Their breakfast was suddenly interrupted by owls swooping into the great hall. A black owl swooped down to deliver Fiona a letter. It was from her mother.

“Ona

I’ve received notice that you are in need of dress robes for the Yule Ball– how exciting! I will be sure to send you one of my old bridesmaid dresses (don’t worry, it’ll be pink or purple, just how you like it).

Furthermore, because the Yule Ball takes place on Christmas, you and Apollo are to stay at Hogwarts for the holiday break. It would’ve been nice to see you, especially since your father will be in the country, but it just won’t work out this year.

If there’s anything you’d like for Christmas let me know. I’d be happy to send your gifts to Hogwarts.

Miss you and Love you,
Mama”

“Everything alright?” said Angelina, who was eyeing her from across the table.

“Yeah, just won’t be going home for Christmas, is all,” she said as she folded the letter and returned it into its envelope.

“S’alright, you can hang with us!” said George, giving her a light pat on the back. She smiled at that and took a swig of her juice.

“It also looks like my mom is sending my dress robes for the ball– one of her old bridesmaids dresses…” Fiona cringed.

“Tell me it's from this decade,” Angelina begged, putting her juice down.

“I can’t tell you that,” Fiona said, cringing even further.

“So you’re going to the ball then?” George asked.

“Of course,” Fiona said. It wasn’t like her to miss a party.

“Who are you going with, then?” Lee asked her.

“Oh– uhh…” Fiona said, quickly looking away as she burned bright red. “I don’t have a date yet. But I’ll be going whether I have one or not.”

“How modern of you,” Fred said, in a joking tone.

“Oi piss off, Fred. This isn’t the nineteenth century!” Angelina blurted.

Fred laughed at Angelina’s outburst. “I was only joking! A girl can accompany herself to a ball… it’s just— it’d be a bit sad looking wouldn’t it?”

“No more pathetic than a boy being unable to score a date,” Fiona said quickly, staring daggers at Fred. “So tell me, Fred, who are you taking to the ball?”

Fred stuttered. “I– er– well, I haven’t–”

“You haven’t got one yet,” Fiona finished for him. “Best keep your mouth shut until you do.”

George stifled a laugh into his coffee as Fred sat stunned by Fiona’s defensiveness. She, too, was shocked by her own quick whip. She hadn’t ever done that before with anyone other than Apollo. It felt weird.

“Right, well. I’m no longer hungry,” Fiona said as she stood up from the breakfast table. “I’ll catch you guys later.”

She could hear George burst into a loud laughing fit as she left the Great Hall. The weird feeling she had inside remained. She felt powerful and confident after having stood up to Fred. Though, of course, she also felt bad about making him look like an idiot. But as she made it to her Transfigurations class, she decided it was well deserved.

Fiona almost fell asleep in Transfigurations– it was all that food at breakfast, she thought. She was sure not to overdo it next time so she could focus. As she departed the class with her roommates, she was called over by George who was by himself.

“Oi, Jackson!” he said, waving her over.

Lucy and Katie giggled as Fiona walked over to him.

“Just want to say that watching you stand up to Fred was brilliant!” he said, his eyes lit up.

“Well, he deserved it! He was being a prat,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Freddie gets that way sometimes,” George nodded. “It’s good to bring him back to earth.”

“Fiona!” her roommates called for her.

“Sorry, I should go. We’ve got Herbology,” Fiona said, straightening her book back strap on her shoulder.

“Right,” George nodded, “well I was just wondering…” He trailed off, looking around in search of something. Courage, maybe.

Fiona’s heart leapt. Was he going to–

“...If you wanted to– er…” he scratched the back of his head. “Come play quidditch with me, Angelina, Lee, and Fred tomorrow morning?”

“Oh,” Fiona said, rather disappointedly. “Well, I’m not very good on a broom…”

“That’s okay, neither is Lee! It’s still good fun.”

“Um… Alright, I’ll be there…” she said with a weak smile.

“Great,” George said awkwardly. “Right, well, I’ll see you later.”

“Bye,” Fiona said as she returned to her roommates.

“DID HE DO IT?” Lucy practically jumped in the air.

“No, he just asked if I wanted to play quidditch,” Fiona said, still trying to make sense of it herself.

“Quidditch?!” Lucy said, vocalizing the disappointment Fiona couldn’t.

“What a twat,” Gemma said, looking back to see that George had already left.

“I thought he was going to ask me, but… I don’t know,” Fiona said as they left the castle and made their way to the greenhouse.

“Maybe he was going to, but chickened out,” Katie comforted.

“Who knows,” Fiona said, holding the greenhouse door open for her roommates.

Despite her disappointment, Fiona did play quidditch with her sixth year friends the next morning. She caught the occasional glance from George, though he’d quickly look away when she did.

She was being honest with George when she said she wasn’t very good on a broom. But so was he when he said neither was Lee. In fact, Fiona felt she was a good chunk better at quidditch than Lee was. It helped that Angelina– who was amazing on a broom– would give her tips. Things were going smoothly on the pitch. The sleet had subsided that morning, though the sky was still gray and the air still crisp. It wasn’t until George accidentally beat a quaffle right at Fiona’s side that she fell off her broom, falling a good few feet before she hit the ground, the grass staining her sweater. In an instant George was at her side.

“Merlin’s beard, Fiona!” he said, helping her sit up. “You alright?”

The side of her ribs felt sore, as did her arm, but not nothing felt broken. “Yeah, I’m alright,” she said, breathlessly. The fall had knocked out some of her breath. “What were you aiming for?”

“Dunno,” he said, pulling pieces of grass out of her hair. “But I didn’t mean to hit you.”

Fiona looked up into his blue eyes. They were amazing in the gray light of the morning. She was so infatuated with them, in fact, that she hardly heard herself say–

“George, will you go to the ball with me?”

He sat there, stunned, for only a moment, before grinning widely. “I’d love to,” he said. “But,” he added as his grin quickly faded, “actually, someone’s already asked me… last night…”

Fiona’s heart sank. “Oh,” was all she could say.

“I’m sorry,” George replied, helping her up.

“No, that’s okay,” she said, trying to muster an easing smile.

“You’re sure?” he asked, pulling another piece of grass out of her hair. She wished he’d stop being so nice to her.

“Totally,” she said brushing the grass off of her pants, “I can ask someone else.”

“Right,” he said, looking at her warily.

Fiona mounted her broom and rose into the air without saying more.

“Alright, Jackson?” Angelina asked. Fiona only nodded. “You sure?’

“I just asked George to the ball.”

Angelina’s face lit up. “You did?” Fiona nodded, again, though her dim expression was unchanging. “Oh that’s great, Jackson! That’s–”

“He said someone already asked him,” Fiona interrupted, looking out onto the quidditch pitch.

“Oh,” Angelina said quietly. “That’s too bad.”

“Oi! You lot ready or not?” Lee called from across the pitch. “I’m determined to win this time!!”

Fiona flew forward ready for another round of quidditch, though this round would be a little less fun.

Later that evening, they were all hanging out in the common room. Fiona was doing homework with Gemma and Katie, while Lucy sat by her boom box that amplified Jeff Buckley’s newest album, “Grace.” From across the common room, Fiona heard a loud explosion. She looked up to see Ron, with singed eyebrows and scorch marks on his face, stunned by the apparent combustion of his Exploding Snap Pack castle.

“Nice look, Ron,” said Fred

“It’ll go well with your dress robes, that will,” added George as that sat beside Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“Ron, can we borrow Pigwidgeon?” George asked.

“No, he’s off delivering a letter,” said Ron. “Why?”

“Because George wants to invite him to the ball,” said Fred sarcastically.

“Because we want to send a letter, you stupid great prat,” said George.

“Who d’you two keep writing to, eh?” said Ron.

“Nose out, Ron, or I’ll burn that for you too,” said Fred, waving his wand threateningly. Fiona new it had something to do with their prank products. They’d been rather secretive about it lately. “So . . . you lot got dates for the ball yet?”

“Nope,” said Ron.

“Well, you’d better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone,” said Fred.

“Who’re you going with, then?” said Ron.

“Angelina,” said Fred promptly, without a trace of embarrassment. Fiona perked up. When had Fred asked Angelina to the ball?

“What?” said Ron, taken aback. “You’ve already asked her?”

“Good point,” said Fred. He turned his head and called across the common room, “Oi! Angelina!”

Angelina, who had been chatting with Alicia Spinnet near the fire, looked over at him. “What?” she called back.

“Want to come to the ball with me?” Angelina gave Fred an appraising sort of look.

“All right, then,” she said, and she turned back to Alicia and carried on chatting with a bit of a grin on her face.

“There you go,” said Fred to Harry and Ron, “piece of cake.”

Fiona dropped her pencil and ran up to Angelina. “Did he just–”

Angelina nodded, trying to hide her excitement.

“He seemed so sure you’d say yes,” Fiona said.

“Of course I’d say yes.”

“We’re both going with the Weasleys now!” Alicia said excitedly. Fiona’s head snapped up, confirming the person who would be attending the ball with George. Angelina smiled and nodded anxiously, knowing Fiona had tried asking George that morning. Fiona tried to shake off any expression she had.

“Congrats, Ang,” she said before returning to her homework, listening to the words that sang from Lucy’s boombox.

“LILAC WINE IS SWEET AND HEADY
WHERE’S MY LOVE?
LILAC WINE
I FEEL UNSTEADY LIKE MY LOVE

LISTEN TO ME
WHY’S EVERYTHING SO HAZY
ISN’T THAT HE?
OR AM I GOING CRAZY, DEAR

LILAC WINE, I FEEL IM READY FOR MY LOVE
FEEL IM READY FOR MY LOVE

Saturday finally arrived and Fiona invited her friends to the Three Broomsticks where they’d meet Apollo and his own friends. Fiona and her roommates walked down to the common room where Fred, George, Angelina, and Lee waited. The common room was busy with other students who prepared for their own outings, dressed head to toe in hats, scarves, and boots.

“Hello, ladies,” charmed Fred. The girls giggled at that.

“Coming with us to Hogsmeade?” asked George.

They all nodded except for Lucy. “Well, actually, I’m not.” Her roommates turned to look at her. They had not been informed of this change. “I’ll be going with Seamus instead. Catch you lot later?”

Fiona understood what was happening as Lucy made her way to Seamus Finnigan, who was finishing up a conversation with Dean Thomas.

“I hope that goes well,” whispered Katie as she watched Lucy and Seamus depart through the portrait hole.

“Right,” said Angelina, “Shall we?”

Together, they trudged through the heavy snowfall into the village. Fiona was thankful she had just knitted herself a pair of mittens as the wind had an intense bite to it. To her relief, the Three Broomsticks was very warm, packed with other students. They looked around to find a table but they had all seemed to be taken. Fortunately, Fiona spotted Apollo at the far corner of the pub, already sitting at a table with his friends.

“There!” Fiona pointed to her brother, and they all made themselves comfortable at the table while simultaneously introducing themselves.. Katie sat next to Leanne, of course. Gemma next to the unfamiliar blonde girl who’s name they learned to be Luna Lovegood. Fiona sandwiched herself between Fred and George while Angelina and Lee sat beside Apollo and Fleur.

“You are Apollo’s twin,” Luna said to Fiona in a high-pitched voice.

“Uh,” Fiona wasn’t sure if that was a question or not, “Yeah, I am.”

“I wish I had a twin,” Leanne said.

“I had a twin,” Luna began suddenly. They all looked at her.

“Had?” Angelina asked, her brows knitted together in confusion. “What happened to your twin?”

“Don’t know,” Luna shrugged matter of factly. “By the time my mum was in labor, only I came out.”

The table stared at her blankly, unsure of what to make of this confession. George coughed awkwardly and Gemma cleared her throat.

“Right,” she said, getting up from her seat. “Fancy a butterbeer, anyone?”

The table concurred eagerly, thankful someone had broken the silence.

“No butterrbeerr forrr mee,” said Fleur, a little too confidently. “I am on a diet or i weell not feet into my drress!”

Katie snorted at that and Leanne jabbed her with an elbow.

“‘Orright…” Gemma said, slowly turning away to the bar.

“You’re going to the ball then?” Angelina asked.

“But of course!” Fleur said, her eyebrows raised. We champions ‘ave to go. We must dance wis our dates at ze beginning of ze ball.”

“Er– Who are you going with?” Fred asked, pretending to seem interested.

“Rrroger Daveez,” she said with a shy smile.

Out of the corner of her eye, Fiona could see Apollo react to that.

“Wait,” he said, “But I thought you still didn’t have a date to the ball.” Fiona could tell he was trying very hard to say that as casually as possible.

“‘Ee asked mee yesterday.”

“Oh,” was all Apollo said. He tried hard to fight it, but Fiona could tell he was crushed. She hadn’t realized he could possibly have a crush on Fleur. Though, who didn’t, she was very pretty.

“Okay,” Gemma said as she returned with a tray of butterbeers. “Here we are!” They all downed their drinks (except for Fleur, who sat watching unimpressed), and ensued in conversation about quidditch. Apollo, the Weasley’s, Angelina, Katie, and Lee really got into it.

“I can’t believe you’ve never heard about Xavier Zellous!” Apollo cried, his hands on his head in frustration.

“Don’t know what to tell you, mate!” George laughed.

“Quidditch’s all we care about here!” added Fred.

“I’ll have to get my hands on a copy of Quadball Digest so I can show you just how good he is!”

Just wait ‘till you hear about Timothy Trader on the Ballycastle Bats! He’s a lunatic, that one!” Katie said excitedly.

Fiona, while pleased that her brother was getting on with her friends so well, was still not head over heels for the sport. She grew quite bored of the conversation, gazing around the room for something more interesting. In the corner she spotted a little stage.

“Hey,” she interrupted, “do they have shows here?” she was surprised she hadn’t noticed that on their last outing.

“Oh yeah,” said George. “Some bands have played here, and then occasionally they’ll have Karaoke.”

“That’s so cool!” Fiona said excitedly. It stung to talk to George, knowing he was going with someone else to the ball. But she knew she needed to get over it. “We have to come down to catch one!”

“We can't,” Leanne said quickly, “they only have them after our curfew.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?” said Fred with a wink.

“Hmph,” said Fiona, rather disappointed. Having listened to all of Lucy’s tapes, and also being in orchestra, had made Fiona very interested in consuming all forms of music. The idea of catching a live show seemed very fun.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see George watching her, as the quidditch conversations resumed.

“What?” she asked.

“Nuffin,” he said quickly, though he wore a knowing smirk. Fiona frowned in confusion. Was he going to make getting over him even harder?

A couple more butterbeers in and the conversations flowed just nicely. Fleur even seemed to be enjoying herself. As for Luna– Fiona wasn’t sure what was on her mind.

“Another butterbeer?” Gemma asked, standing up again, pointing around at the group to see who would be interested.

“You have a problem, Droll,” Fred teased.

“So I’m told,” she said nonchalantly.

When she returned to the table, butterbeer in hand, she looked like she’d seen a ghost.

“You alright, Droll?” Lee asked in a low voice.

She sat down slowly, looking only at the butterbeer she placed down on the table. “I’ve just been asked to the ball,” she said hesitantly.

“That’s great, Gem!” Katie gasped. “By who?”

“Dean Thomas,” she answered, though she looked confused.

“Why you look so worried?” Fleur asked matter-of-factly. “eezn’t that a good sing?”

“Yeah, Droll, wakeup!” said George, shaking the table. “You’ve just been asked to the ball, for Merlin’s sake!”

Gemma laughed at that, and color returned to her face. “It’s just– I wasn’t planning on going… I don’t even have a dress! And the ball’s in a few days!”

“Don’t worry about that,” Fiona comforted. “Katie and I can help you! Is there a clothing shop we can hit up before we go back?” she asked the table.

“There’s a Gladrags around the corner,” Angelina said, pointing in the direction of the store.

“Great,” she replied, looking at her watch. “We should go now before it gets dark, then?”

Gemma nodded, still looking a bit spooked as Katie, Leanne, and Fiona put their coats on.

“I’ll come too?” Angelina asked.

“Of course,” said Fiona. She decided putting all of her energy into her friends would help her get over being a lone wolf at the ball. She, too, considered not going, but with being in the orchestra she would have to attend.

“I want to go,” said Fleur, also putting her coat on despite the lack of invitation. “I want to see what ze fashion is in zis country!”

Fiona cringed at the thought of going shopping with Fleur but Apollo gave her a look that said “be nice.”

“Need anything boys?” asked Katie, as she pulled her hat on.

“Oh yeah, should we pick out a pair of bloomers for each of you?” Fiona joked.

“Right well, I’m getting another butterbeer,” said Fred.

“Er– me too,” said George, who flashed Fiona a pained smile.

“Oi, wait for me!” Lee called after them.

Apollo let out a little awkward laugh and followed the boys to the bar, leaving Luna at the table. Fiona had almost forgotten about her, she was so quiet and still sitting contented at the table, smiling up at them dazedly.

“We can’t just leave her,” Leanne whispered into Katie’s ear.

“Er– Luna,” said Angelina, looking around at the other girls. “Do you want to come with us?”

“Alright,” she said, in her same contented demeanor.

Together the girls made their way to Gladrags, where they helped Gemma pick out a dress. Gemma looked good in just about everything, but nothing compared to how the beautiful orange silk dress looked against her dark skin.

“Gemma! This one, pick this one!” Fiona begged, looking at their reflection in the mirror.

The look on Gemma’s face said it all: she loved it.

“Let me see!” said Fleur, who was doing a good job picking dresses out that best suited Gemma’s complexion. “Oh! C’est beau!”

Katie and Leanne ooh’d and ahh’d at the dress while Luna sat on a bench in the changing room with a pleasant smile and her hands in her lap.

“You have to get it!” Angelina begged.

“‘Orright, I will,” Gemma nodded. “How much is it?” Angelina looked at the tag hanging on the back of the dress and gasped. Everyone’s heart dropped. They expected the worst. “Give it to me,” Gemma said, biting her lip.

“A hundred and twenty nine galleons,” she said hesitantly.

All of the girls gasped except for Fleur. “I do not see what ze problem eez?”

“Are you serious?” asked Angelina, rather upset.

“One hundred twenty nine galleons? Eet eez nothing! Eef eet eez a problem, Gemma, I weel get you zis dress.”

“Wot?” she said, frowning. The girls all looked at each other.

“Il y a un chemin…” Fleur said, touching her finger to her lips in thought. “Buy. I weel buy you zis dress.”

“Oh, no” Gemma said quickly, waving her hands as if to stop Fleur from going any further. “I canny let you get this for me!”

“Like I say, eet eez nothing! Now, take eet off and I weel buy,” Fleur said, moving Angelina to the side and unzipping Gemma’s dress.

The girls sat there completely stunned at Fleur’s profound generosity as she purchased the dress. Gemma made sure Fleur knew how grateful she was, so much that it was almost annoying Fleur.

“Gemma, we are friends, no? Do not thank me anymore!” she said as she made her way back to the carriage where the students of Beauxbaton slept.

The girls hardly uttered a word to one another as they made their way back to the common room.

“She didn’t have to buy me that dress,” Gemma said quietly. “I feel guilty! She shouldn’t have– I don’t know if I can repay– I can’t–”

“Gemma,” Fiona said as they walked through the portrait hole. “It’s fine! Like Fleur said, she’s your friend, she wanted to do it.”

“The confusing thing is…” Katie started, “I didn’t realize we’d become friends with her so quickly!”

The girls all laughed at that, but it didn’t last long once they walked into their dorm room. Lucy was laying face down in her bed, sobbing uncontrollably while she played Mazzy Star’s “Fade Into You”.

“Lucy?!” they all cried as they ran to her aid.

Lucy looked up from her puddle of tears, her mascara running wildly down her cheeks.

“Wot’s happened?” Gemma asked quietly, as if she were asking a small child.

“Seamus is going to the ball with Lavender Brown. I don’t have a date to the ball!” Lucy cried, collapsing back into the mattress.

The girls looked at each other nervously. They had two days before the Yule Ball. How were they to find Lucy a date in time?

“FADE INTO YOU
I THINK IT’S STRANGE YOU NEVER KNEW
FADE INTO YOU
I THINK IT’S STRANGE YOU NEVER KNEW”

Chapter Text

The girls became rather fearful of Lucy, who made a point to consistently huff and stomp about. Lucy was still dateless, and even though Katie had suggested Jude Squaggle, Lucy’s rebuttal was that his "breakup with Cherie was only a rumor." Lucy had come to the conclusion that she would completely protest the Yule Ball, and even stopped going to orchestra rehearsal.

“Has anyone seen Miss Byrne?” Professor Flitwick asked the orchestra on the night before Christmas. The orchestra remained silent. Flitwick turned to the first violinist. “Edmund, have you seen her?”

Edmund shook his blonde head. Of course only Fiona knew why Lucy was absent, but she wasn’t going to announce that to the whole orchestra.

“Right, well,” Flitwick sighed, “the show must go on! Let’s start from the beginning, then. One– Two– Three!”

Fiona blew into her flute and played the Waltz that was assigned for the ball. After several rehearsals, she felt quite confident on the instrument and that she sounded very good next to Amelia who played the oboe. There were a few trouble spots to be rehearsed that evening but after a good go-through, the orchestra seemed comfortable on the piece.

“Before you return to your dormitories,” Flitwick called over the handful of students who had already started to pack up, “I must remind you that we will meet here at seven o’clock! Don’t be late! We will put on our performance robes– which you may put on over your dress robes as I know you will be attending the ball afterwards. Remember, we will only be playing when the students enter! Afterwards there will be a special performance from– er… special guests.”
A low murmur of confusion ensued throughout the orchestra.

“They’re saying it’ll be the Weird Sisters!” Amelia whispered to her. Fiona had only recently heard of the band from Lucy, mentioning they were one of her favorites.

“After our performance,” Flitwick continued, “you may find your dates and enjoy the meal and the ball! If you have not yet received your performance robes, Edmund here may provide one for you. You are dismissed!”

Fiona packed up her flute and music and approached Edmund for the very simple, black performance robes he had at hand.

“Have you seen Lucy, by chance?” Edmund asked. “You’re her roommate, aren’t you?”

“Uhh– yes I am. She’s not feeling well,” Fiona lied.

“That’s too bad,” he said, genuinely. “Well, let me give you her robes. That way she can join us if she’s feeling up for it.”

“Thanks,” Fiona smiled, taking the spare robes. When she returned to the dorm, Lucy was still in bed, her drapes closed around it. The other girls sat on their respective beds, reading books and magazines.

“Has she still not come out?” Fiona asked irritably. Gemma and Katie shook their heads. Fiona marched over to Lucy’s bed and ripped back the drapes.

“Hey!” Lucy whined, clearly blinded by the sudden flood of light.

“Lucy! Get up!” Fiona demanded.

“Why should I? I’ve nothing going on!”

Fiona crossed her arms and sighed irritably. “We missed you in orchestra today.”

“So?”

“So?! Lucy, we need you to play at the ball! Look, I even have your performance robes,” Fiona said, holding up the robes Edmund had handed her.

“I’ve already told you, I’m not going!”

“Oh, c’mon Lucy!” Katie called. “It’s going to be fun!”

“Easy for you to say! You have a date!” Lucy moaned as she rolled over. Katie, who had been asked to the ball by Cormac McClaggen, sunk guiltily. Fiona was still dateless, but for dramatic effect, that didn’t seem to matter to Lucy.

“Ok, Lucy,” Fiona said, pretending to give in as she slowly walked over to her bed. “But you’ll regret not going!”

“Are you sure about that?” Lucy challenged.

“I’m positive!” Fiona said with a grin. Lucy scoffed. “Because the Weird Sisters are playing tomorrow night. It’ll be such a shame you’ll miss them!”

Lucy sat up straight very suddenly. Even Katie and Gemma perked up at the name drop. “The… the Weird Sisters are playing tomorrow night?” Lucy said, pretending not to care though it was very clear she did.

“Mhmm,” Fiona replied, her eyebrows raised. “I’ll try to get an autograph for you or something.”

“No– no need,” Lucy said in a high pitched voice. “I– I’ve changed my mind!”

“Yeh have, have yeh?” Gemma said with a cocked eyebrow.

“Yes, I’ll go to the ball! But ONLY if you lot promise you won’t abandon me to go off and snog your dates…”

Katie cringed. “You don’t have to worry about that. You’ll never catch me kissing McClaggen!”

Lucy laughed at that, but suddenly looked very worried. “I don’t have a dress!”

“Don’t worry about that,” Fiona said, though she didn’t know why. She wasn’t sure how she was going to find another last minute dress for her other roommate. She flashed Gemma a very worried glance.

“Aye,” Gemma caught on, “We’ll take care of it, poppet! Why don’t yeh put on some Weird Sisters so we’re prepared fer them tomorrow?”

Lucy lit up again. “GREAT idea, Gemma!” she said as she ran into the bathroom to wash her face.

“Oi,” Katie said in a whisper so as not to let Lucy hear. “How are we gonna find her a dress in time?”

“Maybe I can ask Fleur again,” Gemma joked. The girls giggled. Fiona considered there had to be seamstress spells or charms. She was already planning on having to make editions on the dress her mother was sending. The library would have to be a good place to start.

Fiona awoke on Christmas day to the silhouette of the snow falling outside the dorm window. She sat up sleepily and stretched, opening her drapes fully to find that Gemma was already awake in bed, sipping on a cup of tea.

“m’Christmas, Fiona,” she said quietly as Katie and Lucy were still asleep. Fiona waved quietly as she looked around. At the foot of her bed sat a pile of presents. She had replied to the letter her mother had sent saying she only wanted her tapes, but it seemed her mother had sent her way more than that. Fiona climbed out of her bed into the bathroom to relieve herself and wash her face. When she returned, both Katie and Lucy had awoken.

“Happy Christmas, Fiona!” Lucy chirped. She always behaved like she’d had ten coffees the minute she woke up, but Fiona was used to it.

“Merry Christmas,” she replied, picking up a present and returning to her bed. She unwrapped the box as the other girls opened their own gifts. It was a dress that her mother sent. And, as expected, it was purple. But it was the most atrocious thing she’d seen. The sleeves screamed 1985 as they puffed out bigger than the size of her own head.

Lucy gasped at the sight. “Is… is that your–”

“My gown for the ball?” Fiona said irritably, finishing Lucy’s question. “Yep.”

“Oh…” Gemma said quietly, “It’s not so bad…”

“Are you kidding?” Fiona said, still trying to take in its horrid sight. “It’s horrible!”

“Maybe a little,” Lucy said nervously. “But we can fix it! Nothing like a bit of magic to do the trick?”

“Yeah,” Fiona said, digging through the box to see if there were any other pieces, “I was already planning on–” she stopped at the sight of more fabric within the box.

“What is it?” Gemma asked, putting her mug of tea down.

“There’s another dress in here!” Fiona said, eagerly withdrawing the pink gown from the box. It was equally as dated as the purple one, but that wasn’t why Fiona was excited. “Lucy! This can be your dress!”

Lucy gasped excitedly. “Oh Fiona!” she said, jumping off the bed to take a look at the gown. “That’s brilliant. This one will need some fixing too… I hope your mum won’t mind…”

“I doubt she’ll be wanting this back,” Fiona reassured her, going for another present to open. It was a square box that her mother had wrapped in newspaper like she did every year. She tapped her wand on the box, using a spell to rip open the seal. Fiona gasped at the sight of the contents inside. “No way,” she breathed. Inside the box was her father’s Walkman, with headphones included.

“Oh, cool!” Lucy said at the sight of the walkman. “My parents have those! I’ve asked for one every year.”

“What are they?” Gemma asked, looking at the Walkman as if it were alien.

“It’s a Walkman! Muggles use this to listen to music,” Lucy responded.

“It’s my dad’s,” Fiona said, opening up the device. Inside was her tape of Hole’s “Live Through This,” just like she’d ask for. “I only wanted my tape, I didn’t mean his Walkman. What will my dad do without his Walkman?”

“Maybe he’s got another one?” Gemma said as she opened her own gifts.

“What’s the tape?” Lucy asked excitedly as she walked back over to Fiona’s bed. Fiona handed her the tape. “Hole?” she said, flipping the tape around a few times to look at it. “Never heard of em.”

“Oh, they’re great! We should put it on! The first track’s my favorite.”

Without hesitation Lucy switched on her boombox and inserted the tape. At once an electric guitar strummed and the drums came in. Courtney Love’s breathless lyrics echoed throughout the dorm.

“Oh I like this,” said Lucy who was bopping along to it.

“....You should learn when to go…”

Then the volume of the song picked up:

“...YOU SHOULD LEARN WHEN TO SAY NO!...”

“Woah,” said Katie, who was not expecting the vocalist to scream. Immediately Lucy turned it down as Gemma covered her ears. Fiona laughed loudly at their responses.

“Don’t like it?” she asked through her giggles.

Gemma shook her head vigorously, Katie shrugged, and Lucy assured Fiona that she liked it, she just wasn’t expecting it.

“I’d never have pinned yeh as someone who likes this hardcore… stuff,” Gemma said.

“You mean noise rock?” Fiona corrected.

“Er… sure?”

Fiona laughed as she opened up the other few presents that she had. Her parents had spoiled her that Christmas. On top of the Walkman and Fiona’s Hole tape, she received a tape of Cocteau Twins’ “The Moon and the Melodies,” The Go-Go’s “Return to the Valley of the Go-Go’s,” and the Cranberries’ “Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We?”

Lucy had received a number of tapes herself, including Björk’s “Debut,” The Cure’s “Wish”, and Radiohead’s “Pablo Honey.”

“I’ve never heard of Björk,” Fiona said.

“Oh, she’s really cool,” said Gemma.

Fiona looked at her with a confused expression. “How do you know about her?” Gemma had never been knowledgeable on music, let alone muggle music.

“She’s a witch!” said Gemma.

“Yeah, from Iceland,” said Lucy. “But she’s breaking out in the muggle world. Some people aren’t a fan of her for that reason, but as long as the muggles don’t know, I can’t see how it hurts.”

After the girls opened their presents and had breakfast, Fiona and Lucy made their way to the library to research spells for dress alterations.

“Here’s something,” Lucy chimed as she looked through a copy of ‘Mending Charms for the Home Seamstress’. “It says here that the ‘Meliorem Vestis’ spell can enhance any drab to make it fab!”

“Okay let’s try it,” Fiona said, smoothing her purple dress out on a library table. “Meliorem Vestis!” she chanted as she waved her wand. A spark flew from her wand and the sleeves of her purple dress seemed to enhance by ten times its original size. “That can’t be right,” Fiona said, looking over the spell again.

“Here, let me try,” Lucy said, pointing her wand at Fiona’s dress. “Meliorem Vestis!” Another spark flew from Lucy’s wand, but the girls were confused to see extra large bows splattered across the dress’s trim.

“There must be another spell,” Fiona sat down, feeling defeated, though she looked through the book again just in case.

“Maybe this won’t be something as simple as one spell,” Lucy said, pacing as she came to her conclusions. “I think we’ll have to do this step by step.”

“It’ll take us hours!” Fiona worried, nervously combing her hands through her curly blonde hair.

“Not if we do it together,” Lucy said, placing her hands confidently on her hips. “Now, first things first: how do you feel about the fabric?”

“Um… it’s alright,” Fiona said, feeling the thick fabric of the dress. “But I guess I’d like it to be silk… or satin?”

“Okay, let me look,” Lucy said as she traced her finger along the pages of the sewing spellbook. “Right, this one here. ‘Mutatio Sericum’. It’ll enhance the texture of your dress!”

“Alright, I’ll try it,” Fiona said as she stood up again, pointing her wand at the dress. “Mutatio Sericum!” To her surprise, the fabric actually changed into a lovely lilac satin.

“Brilliant!” Lucy cheered, though was quickly hushed by Madam Pince. Lucy mouthed a ‘sorry’ in reply, but readied herself to try the spell on her own dress. To her luck, the pink smock turned into a very light fabric. Lucy cheered again and Madam Pince threatened to kick them out if they couldn’t keep quiet.

“We need to change the dress shape now,” Fiona said, flipping through the book. And with various spells the girls were able to turn Mrs. Jackson’s bridesmaids dresses into their ideal Yule Ball gowns.

“Lucy,” Fiona said as they returned the various books to the shelves they pulled them from. “Will these alterations last?”

“They should,” Lucy said, grabbing her dress from the table. “They’re like mending spells. It’s like if you used a spell to fix glasses or a table. They should last.”

Fiona nodded, though it sounded more like Lucy was trying to convince herself rather than Fiona.

After returning their dresses to their dorms, Lucy and Fiona met up with Katie and Gemma in the Great Hall for lunch. Fiona thought the feast was spectacular. There were endless turkeys at every table. She even found herself enjoying the bread pudding at the end (though she still would’ve liked to have eaten pumpkin pie instead). She was happy to see that Apollo was also enjoying Christmas lunch. He sat beside Luna and Cho, who was rumored to be going out with Cedric. Fiona was sure to catch him before he left the hall.

“Hey!” she called. Apollo turned just before making it through the door. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas,” Apollo smiled. He seemed to be doing that genuinely lately.

“A few of us are going to have a snowball fight just now. Do you want to join?” Fiona asked, gesturing to the Weasley twins, who were arguing with Ron as to who would win.

“Can’t. I have to alter the shitty dress robes dad sent me,” he said in a low whisper so no one would hear. Fiona snickered, but was mostly glad that she wasn't. the only one to receive their parents' tremendous but oblivious generosity.

“You’re going to the ball, then?” she asked.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” he replied, his brows furrowed.

“Well…” Fiona scratched the back of her head. “It seemed like you meant to ask Fleur… Only she’s going with–”

“Roger Davies,” Apollo interrupted, rolling his eyes. “I know. That idiot… It doesn’t matter, I’m going with someone else.”

“Oh, who?” Fiona asked, genuinely curious.

“Uh… Luna…” Apollo replied, this time it was him scratching the back of his head.

“Luna?” Fiona repeated. She wanted to be sure she heard that right.

“Yeah… As friends, of course,” Apollo said, nodding like it was obvious.

“Right—well… She’s great, I bet that will be… fun,” Fiona tried to be as supportive as possible. She actually liked Luna, but she didn’t see how Apollo got on with her. He was such a grump compared to Luna.

“Who are you going with?” he asked suddenly.

“Who me?” Fiona asked, trying to stall. She was nervous that Apollo would judge her. Apollo nodded. “No one.”

Apollo frowned. “You didn’t ask anyone?”

“I did,” Fiona said looking away, “Some other girls beat me to it, though.”

“Oh,” Apollo replied, though he appeared to be deep in thought. “Right, well, I should go make those alterations. I’ll see you tonight?” but before Fiona could reply, Apollo had already left for the common room.

“Coming Jackson?” George called as he and the others put their coats and hats on.

“Yeah!” Fiona called after them, as she pulled her hat on.

In the courtyard, Fiona played against the Weasley twins, Ron, Angelina, Harry, and Lee while Hermione sat on the sidelines. Fiona nailed Harry right in the gut at one point, being sure not to hit him in the face with a snowball and potentially break his glasses. Though he was sure to throw a couple good ones at her back as payback. Angelina and Fred had gotten into a playful argument which developed into them wrestling each other in the snow.

“Okay!” Fred cried as Angelina straddled him, pinning his arms down. “You win!”

“Damn right, I do!” Angelina said, as she stood up, putting her hands on her hips in triumph. Though it wasn’t long before Fred got to his feet, picking Angelina up and throwing her over his shoulder. She screamed playfully, lightly hitting his back with her fists.

“Put me down, Weasley!” she cried through her laughter. Fred finally did, holding her tightly around the waist as they looked at each other for only a minute. Fiona thought they might kiss, but Ron was sure to prevent that from happening, nailing a snowball right at Fred.

“Oi! You’ll pay for that one, Ronald,” Fred shouted as he prepared another snowball.

“Leave it to Ronald to ruin a moment,” George said from behind Fiona.

“How long has Fred liked Angelina,” Fiona asked without thinking. She hoped that at least his twin would have suspected it. It was so obvious.

George laughed and scratched the back of his head. “Since our first year,” he whispered. “Don’t tell Angelina I said that, though. Fred’ll kill me.”

“My lips are sealed,” Fiona reassured him.

“Jackson!” Angelina called from where Hermione sat. “We should go and get ready, yeah?”

Fiona checked her watch. Five o’clock. “Oh, good point,” she said under her breath. “See you,” she added without looking at George. It still hurt to know she wouldn’t be his date tonight.

While the other girls had three hours to prepare for the ball, Fiona and Lucy only had two. Hermione had lent her a bottle of her hair smoothing potion so that she could keep the frizz down as much as possible. Lucy was the only one who really wore makeup, but she was more than happy to let her roommates borrow it.

Fiona drew eyeliner around her eye as carefully as possible, and was pleased to see it didn’t come out too harsh. She helped apply the eye makeup to Katie, who has never so much as picked up a tube of mascara. Gemma helped Fiona smoothen down her hair with the potion, after the makeup was done. As she fastened her heels, Fiona took note of just how gorgeous her roommates looked. The orange dress looked just as beautiful on Gemma in the dorm as it did in the shop. And Katie sported a dark blue gown that had black lace on the trim. The pink dress Mrs. Jackson had lent looked superb on Lucy, even more so after the alterations they made.

“Let me put these pins in my hair and then we can pop off to orchestra,” Lucy said, with pins between her teeth as she fastened one to the back of her french twist.

After a few more primps in the mirror and dabs of blush, Lucy and Fiona left for the orchestra.

“See yeh in there,” Gemma said to Fiona just before she made her way to the common room.

Flute in hand, Fiona’s heels clacked all the way down into the common room which was mostly empty except for a few people who were already prepared and George. He stood, leaning against the fireplace and looking into the hearth. Fiona assumed he was waiting for Alicia, and snuck up behind him.

“Is your fortune being told in those flames?” she teased in a low voice.

George jumped slightly before turning and taking in the sight that was Fiona in her satin lilac dress.

“Wow,” he breathed, as his eyes caressed her. “You look– your dress is… wow….”

Fiona blushed aggressively and giggled. “Thank you,” she said, but the good feeling didn’t last long. It didn’t feel right to accept a compliment from him. He wasn’t her date. It wasn’t long before Lucy appeared next to them.

“Coming, Jackson?” Lucy said eagerly.

She nodded and left the common room, not before giving George a small wave. Fiona grew quiet on her walk to the great hall. Lucy, likely made uncomfortable by the silence, filled the halls with as much of her talking as she could muster.

They entered into the Great Hall, which was decorated greatly with rows of mistletoe and ivy garlands, and the walls were covered top to bottom in the most beautiful silver frost Fiona had ever seen. Where the house tables were sat dimly lit round tables, like ones Fiona would see at the fancy restaurant in her hometown. But the realization that she’d have to perform for the whole school hit her. And she suddenly grew anxious.

“You alright?” Amelia Lewis, the oboe player, asked. “You seem nervous…”

“What?” Fiona said, coming back to earth. “No, I– I’m fine.” She cracked open her case and put together her instrument while the orchestra warmed up, overhearing the conversation between Lucy and Edmund.

“Lucy!” Edmund called once he saw her enter the hall with her cello. “You’re feeling better, then?”

“What? I was never– oh…” she said, looking over at Fiona, who flashed her a forced smile.

“Yeah, I– er… I’m feeling much better.”

“Great,” Edmund said excitedly. “Well maybe you can save me a dance?”

Lucy looked up from her music suddenly, her cheeks burning red. “Yeah, alright, good– er.. Sounds good! We can dance– well, I can’t, not well at least… but I’m sure you can– I…” she had gone completely rogue, unable to form a clear thought. Edmund just chuckled at her.

“Great, can’t wait,” he said as he stepped up onto the podium to give a tuning note. Fiona was over the moon for Lucy. She knew that not only would Lucy enjoy the Weird Sisters but that someone would eventually ask her to dance. Lucy was very pretty, and very kind. It would’ve been odd for no one to ask her.

The staff entered first before the students, looking as elegant as ever. Even Dumbledore was dawning very special robes. Once the staff settled, Flitwick stood at the podium waiting for the cue.

“Filch, if you please,” Dumbledore called. Filch, who was by the entrance, ripped open the doors and allowed students to flood in. At once Flitwick waved his baton three times, initiating the start of the waltz. Fiona focused on the music and the conductor so hard that she barely saw anyone enter. It wasn’t until they finished the piece that she saw the bright colors of the various robes that were worn that evening. The crowd applauded after the orchestra finished, and Flitwick excused the musicians to go sit with their dates. After putting her flute back in its case, Fiona stood in search of her friends. She spotted them over at a farther table, seeing that Lee and his date, Hufflepuff Anika Bakshi, were also there. And as she approached she noticed how lovely Angelina looked. She was wearing a gorgeous red dress with a matching shawl, and her braids were done up in a twist.

“Angelina!” Fiona gasped, “You look gorgeous!”

Angelina blushed. “Thanks, Jackson!”

“I didn’t know you could play like that!” George said as he pulled back Alicia’s chair. She too looked very pretty in a blue dress.

“What, the flute?” Fiona said, a little taken aback by the praise.

“Yeah, that was really brilliant!” He replied as he opened his napkin and placed it on his lap.

“How long have you played the flute for?” Alicia asked.

“I started it when I was six,” Fiona said as an order of pork chops appeared on her plate. "And then once I went to Ilvermorny I stopped…”

“Well, you haven’t lost an ounce of skill!” said Fred, who had already dug into his dinner. “Like George said, you’re bloody brilliant!”

They ate excitedly and Fiona had to agree that the food was truly excellent. Towards the end of her meal she looked around the Great Hall to see how everyone looked. She spotted Apollo, looking quite dapper despite his complaints about the dress robe, in deep conversation with Luna. Fiona wasn’t sure what they could be talking about as she hadn’t been very conversational the last time they spoke.

At another table sat Fiona’s roommates. Gemma seemed to be getting on well with Dean, though Katie looked to be bored out of her mind while Cormac ranted about something– likely himself. Fiona was pleasantly surprised to see that Edmund had sat himself right next to Lucy. The two of them looked very flushed and nervous talking to each other.

Applause snapped Fiona out of her observation as she took notice of the musicians setting up on stage.

“That must be the Weird Sisters,” she said.

“Oh, I love them!” Angelina said excitedly.

The first tune they played was slow while the champions and their dates stood and took to the dance floor.

“Look at him GO!” George cheered as they watched Harry work very hard not to trip over himself. “I’m surprised he hasn’t stumbled yet.”

“That’s probably because Pavarti is holding him up,” Fred teased.

Soon other people got up and joined the dancing. Fiona was surprised to see that even Neville was up with Ginny, though he had stepped on her foot a few times.

“Alright, Johnson,” Fred said as he stood and took Angelina’s hand. “This is our time to show these other prats whose boss on the dance floor!”

Angelina laughed as she herself stood. “You don’t have to tell me twice,” she said excitedly. Fred spun her out on the dance floor then pulled her in close where they danced tenderly to the slow music.

George turned to Alicia awkwardly. “Er… shall we?” he said nervously. Alicia giggled at him and nodded. After Lee and Anika departed, Fiona was alone. She watched her friends dance, with a ping of pain inside her chest. She watched George and Alicia, who danced closely and laughed at jokes Fiona couldn’t hear. The longer she watched, the worse she felt, so she decided to hop over to her roommate’s table.

“Fiona!” Lucy said as she approached.

“Having fun?” she asked, forcing a smile as she sat down with them.

“You could say that,” Katie said with a bitter expression. Fiona suppressed a snicker, though Cormac hardly noticed Katie’s snide comment.

“What about you, Jackson?” Cormac asked, wiping the corners of his mouth with his napkin. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Sure,” she responded, though it came out sounding quite sarcastic. For whatever reason she couldn’t lie.

“Who’ve you come with?” Dean asked.

Fiona sighed. She knew he was only asking her innocently, but it only made her feel worse. “Myself,” she said.

Cormac snickered. “How modern– ow!” Lucy had whacked him upside the head. He frowned at Lucy as he rubbed his head before turning to Fiona. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Fiona flashed him a weak smile before looking away. Not crying was getting harder with every minute that went by. Eventually her roommates went up to dance with their dates, leaving Fiona by herself again. She returned to her own table, seeing that her chalice had been refilled. She sipped it mindlessly, trying to think about anything but how alone she felt.

“Hey,” a voice said behind her. She turned to find Apollo towering over her. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, though she knew she wasn’t. She wanted nothing more than to go to bed, but something anchored her to the Great Hall.

“Do you want to dance?” He asked, his hands in his pockets, nodding over to the dance floor.

“Where’s your date?” She replied, peering behind Apollo to see that his Luna was nowhere to be seen.

“She’s hunting nargles,” He said plainly.

“Nargles?”

“Don’t ask,” Apollo said with a laugh. “So are we dancing, or what?”

Fiona smiled before following him on to the dance floor. Fortunately it was an upbeat song, so she could dance next to her brother, feeling it would’ve been weird if it was a slow couple’s dance. Dancing made her feel better, and for a moment she’d forgotten her loneliness. Luna eventually returned, eager to tell Apollo about her search for Nargles. He flashed Fiona a weak smile before following Luna off the dance floor. The loneliness returned quickly, and Fiona made back to her table. She took a few more final sips before deciding to go to bed but was stopped when George returned to the table.

“Having fun?” he asked, out of breath from all the dancing he and Alicia had been doing.

“Sure,” she said, before taking another sip of her drink. George leaned forward to read Fiona’s expression. She quickly changed the subject to prevent him from figuring out how she truly felt. “Where’s Alicia?”

“Her friend Cherie’s having a meltdown,” he replied before taking a sip of his drink. “Went to go care for her.”

Fiona nodded slowly, being sure not to look George in the eye. That would’ve sent her over the edge. She watched as the Weird Sisters started playing another slow mournful song.

“Fiona,” George said suddenly.

“Yeah,” she replied.

“Do you want to dance?”

Fiona finally turned to look at him. He was leaning on the table, his head cocked as he awaited her response. She smiled at him slightly and nodded, taking his hand as he led them to the dance floor. With one hand in his, and his other around her waist, they danced slowly to the mournful music. Fiona felt nervous in his arms, unable to speak or make eye contact. The few times she did look at him, he was doing the same.

DON’T LET THIS MAGIC DIE
THE ANSWERS THERE
OH, JUST LOOK IN HER EYES
AND MAKE YOUR FINAL MOVE
MMM, DON’T BE SCARED
SHE WANTS YOU TOO

The longer she danced, the more comfortable she felt being close to him. Eventually, they became closer, resting her head on his chin. Fiona could swear that she could hear his heart beat. She closed her eyes as she listened to the rhythmic thumping sync up with her own. After what felt like a fleeting second, the Weird Sisters finished their song and Fiona and George broke apart to applaud.

“They’re great,” she said over the cheers, as she parted from George’s dancing embrace.

“Yeah, can’t believe I haven’t heard of them before!” George replied.

The band struck up a new tune, one that was much more upbeat. Fiona felt a bit more comfortable dancing to that one– it wasn’t as intimate. George took her hands and twisted her side to side like he had in the common room a couple weeks earlier. Fred and Angelina were practically flailing around the dance floor, their moves were rather violent. They danced to a few more songs, all of which were upbeat. Lee and Anika seemed to be having a great time, as were Gemma and Dean and Lucy and Edmund. It was when Fiona looked for Katie and McLaggen that she saw him grab her bottom. Fiona stopped, shocked by Cormac’s profanity. She stepped forward to come to her aid, but Katie had already handled it, kneeing him right in the crotch.

“Do that again, and I’ll make sure you’ll never be able to have kids!” she cried before marching off the dancefloor.

“Serves you right, McLaggen!” said George, who had also seen the interaction.

“Piss off, Weasley, you daft cunt,” McClaggen called back, still bent over in pain.

George dropped Fiona’s hands and marched straight for McLaggen, rage in his eyes.

“George!” Fiona called after him, knowing this was leading to nothing good.

George took out his wand and pointed it at Cormac’s face. “Say that again, you prick!”

Fred and Lee, who had heard Fiona yell, ran up to George and held him back. McLaggen’s own friends, Rufus Scrimgeour and Bertie Higgs also came to his aid.

“Is there a problem here, lads?” Rufus hissed. Others on the dance floor started to take notice at the confrontation.

“Yeah,” George said loudly, still holding his wand up, “tell your mate, here, that he needs to learn better manners!”

“Georgie,” Fred said in a low voice, “best lower your wand, mate.” George lowered his wand slowly, still staring intensely at McLaggen. McLaggen’s fear eased as George lowered his wand. “C’mon George, let's get back to the party.”

McLaggen started to laugh as George receded. “Cunt,” he said again under his breath. George turned and threw a big fat punch right in McLaggen’s face. This initiated a brawl in the middle of the dance floor. It was the Weasleys and Lee against McLaggen, Scrimgeour, and Higgs. Fiona and Angelina called for them to stop, even Katie had returned to tell them to knock it off, but the brawl continued. McLaggen had gotten payback against George, nailing his fist right into his mouth. Everyone around them had suddenly stopped dancing, encircling the fight. Some people rooted for George, others for Cormac. It wasn’t until McGonagall and Moody arrived that the fighting ceased.

“You six!” Moody boomed, banging his walking staff on the dance floor. The boys immediately scrambled to their feet, lining up side by side like they were in military formation. “My office. Now.”

“But sir,” Cormac sniffed, blood running down his face and staining his white shirt. “I’m bleeding.”

“Nip it, McLaggen,” Moody said quickly. “Now.” The boys hung their heads and slowly left the hall. George, whose lip was wildly swollen, flashed Fiona a quick wink and grin, though his tooth was missing.

“Blimey,” Angelina said as McGonagall urged everyone to return to their dancing. “If I wasn’t attracted to Fred then, I certainly am now!”

“You’re telling me,” Fiona trailed off as she watched George exit the hall.

“What the bloody hell happened?” Gemma asked, watching McGonagall use her wand to clean the blood up off the floor.

“McLaggen and Katie,” Fiona started, but then she realized she hadn’t seen Katie since the boys left. “Where is she?” Fiona asked, looking around. Gemma shrugged. “C’mon,” she said, taking Gemma’s hand and walking out towards the courtyard. On a court yard stone bench amongst the falling snow sat Katie by her lonesome.

“Katie!” Fiona called as she ran up to her. Katie slowly turned. Tears in her eyes. “Are– are you okay, Katie?”

“I’m fine,” she said as she wiped her cheeks. “Just a bit overwhelmed, is all.”

“Wot happened?” Gemma asked softly as she sat next to her.

“McLaggen touched me,” she said quietly, though she teared up more as she said it. “I know I shouldn’t be as upset as I am but…”

“No,” Fiona said. “Be as upset as you need. It was vile.”

“And then George hit him and they got into that big fight… they didn’t have to ruin the rest of their evenings for me!”

“McLaggen deserved it by the sounds of it,” Gemma said, rubbing her back lightly.

Fiona sat on the other side of Katie. “Do you want to go back in?” Katie sniffed and shook her head. “Right,” Fiona said, looking at Gemma. “I’ll take her to bed.”

“I’ll meet yeh there in a minute,” Gemma said as she stood. “Just let me say goodnight to Dean.”

“Of course,” replied Fiona. “C’mon Katie, let’s pop off to bed.”

Slowly they walked back to their dorm. It was almost midnight anyway so the festivities were to end soon. Fiona also didn’t care about missing the rest of the ball as she had been itching to leave since it started. Plus, George was somewhere in Moody’s office likely facing months-worth of detention.

“Do you want me to get you some tea once we get back?” Fiona asked as they walked up the stairs to their dorm.

“No thanks,” Katie said as she opened the door, “I think I’ll just be going– MERLIN’S BEARD!”

Fiona quickly covered her eyes but she wasn’t quick enough as she saw Lucy and Edmund enwrapped in each other's intimate embrace. Lucy squealed as she stumbled to find something to cover up with. “Just tell us when you’re decent!” Fiona cried, her eyes still closed as she felt for her bed.

“Goodnight– er–sorry!” Edmund called from behind them as he slammed the door shut.

Fiona opened her eyes slowly, worried she’d still see the sight that was Lucy and Edmund.

“Sorry girls,” Lucy said bashfully. Her face was glowing red.

Katie and Fiona stood there, stunned.

“Erm… It’s alright,” Katie said, though she seemed unsure if it actually was.

“Lucy,” Fiona said as she looked for her pajamas. “How did he get in here?” They were told there was an enchantment on the girls’ dorms that prevented boys from entering.

“Oh,” Lucy said. “We tried an undetectable charm and it seemed to work.”

“That was until we came in,” Katie joked.

Lucy laughed nervously. “Yeah, I’m really sorry!”

“It’s alright,” Fiona said, ripping off her dress and pulling her night shirt on. “Just maybe warn us next time!”

“Of course,” Lucy said, nodding furiously.

“So,” Katie said as she walked into the bathroom to wash her face. “How was it then?”

Lucy grinned widely. “Brilliant.”

Fiona and her roommates struggled to wake up the next morning. In fact, they slept in so late that they almost missed breakfast. Breakfast would end at eleven and it wasn’t until ten that Fiona finally rolled out of bed and into the bathroom.

“G’morning,” she said to Lucy, who was already awake and brushing her teeth.

“Morning,” Lucy replied after spitting out her toothpaste into the sink. Fiona was about to use the toilet when she saw a bruise on Lucy’s neck.

“Woah,” she said, stepping closer to inspect. “What happened?” Lucy giggled shyly. “If Edmund hurt you I’ll kill him!”

“No!” Lucy said, waving her hands. “Edmund didn’t hurt me. It’s a love bite.”

“A what?” Fiona asked. She was confused if that was some kind of magic bug.

Lucy laughed again. “Or a hickey. That's what yous call it across the pond, isn’t it?”

“Oh, right,” Fiona said, as she entered the stall to use the toilet. “Seems like you and Edmund had fun last night.”

“You’ve no idea,” Lucy called from through the stall door.

“Lucy, can I say something?” Fiona said nervously as she flushed the toilet and went back to the sink to wash her hands.

“Sure.”

“Um… I think it’d be best to keep this development with Edmund on the low for a while…”

Lucy frowned out of confusion. “Didn’t you hear?” she whispered. Lucy shook her head and Fiona filled her in on the events that ensued the night before. By the time Fiona finished the recapitulation, Lucy’s jaw was on the floor.

“Oh, poor Katie,” Lucy said, her hand on her chest. “Is she alright?”

“I think so,” Fiona replied.

“I’ll kill that McLaggen if I have the chance,” she said, frowning again.

“I think George already beat you to the attempt and it didn’t end so well for him.”

Katie was the last to awake, and when she did she didn’t bother getting dressed as she decided to attend breakfast in her pajamas. When the girls arrived at the great hall, they found the Weasleys, Lee, and Angelina sitting together. George had a bruised lip, though his tooth had returned. Fred had a bruised cheekbone and Lee had a black eye.

“The heroes of last night!” Fiona called as she joined them at the table. The other girls joined too.

“Not heroes,” Fred said humbly, “Just giving McLaggen what he had coming to him.”

“Y’alright, Katie?” George asked. She nodded silently.

“So what’d Moody do you in for?” Gemma asked as she poured a bowl of cereal.

“A month’s worth of detention,” Lee replied, taking a swig of juice.

“I didn’t mean for you lot to get in trouble,” Katie said suddenly.

“He was being vile,” Fiona said quickly. She didn’t understand how Katie could feel guilty about it.

“Right, but I still–”

“No, Katie,” George said firmly. “Cormac’s been overdue for a good lesson. And besides, we’d do anything for our favorite chaser, Katie Bell! Isn’t that right?” Everyone agreed. “So there. If McLaggen so much as sets one toe out of line again, we’ll be there.”

Tears welled into Katie’s eyes as she reached across the table to squeeze George’s hand in gratitude. Gemma rubbed her back gently, until Katie took a deep breath and wiped her tears. That would be the last time Katie cried about Cormac McLaggen.

Before breakfast was over, George was sure to have a word with Fiona.

“Oi, Jackson!” he called just before she stepped foot into the hall. “I– er… I’m sorry I had to abandon you at the ball last night. Wasn’t my intention to get into that much trouble. Don’t know what came over me.” Fiona blinked up at him as he nervously scratched the back of his head.

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“Are you sure?” He said softly. “Because I know I wish I could’ve stayed for a few more dances.”

“You defended my best friend… Why would I be mad at you for that?”

“You weren’t disappointed?”

“It was just a dance,” she said, confused as to why he would be worried. She wasn’t his date, Alicia was. “We’re friends! We can always find another time to dance.”

“Right,” George said, a look of confusion flashing across his face before Fred for him. “Look, I have to run,” he said, starting to where Fred was at the other end of the hall. “I’ll see you later!”

Classes resumed as normal and Fiona was having a hard time adjusting more than ever. The winter festivities had been so eventful that all of her classes had become pretty boring. That was except for her Defense Against the Dark Arts class, which had become very entertaining, indeed.

“Who can tell me what the Impediment Jinx is?” Moody demanded as he burst through the doors of the class. The students jumped.

“No hello? No good afternoon?” Lucy said under her breath. Fiona, who sat next to her, snickered.

“You heard me Byrne,” Moody hissed. Lucy sat with her mouth agape, amazed at how he could have heard her.

“Does he have a magic ear that can hear everything too?” she said, again under her breath. Moody limped over to Lucy, who cowered at his presence.

“If that were the case,” he hissed, “it’d be best for you to stop talking…” Lucy pressed her lips firmly together. “Again, who can tell me about the Impediment hex?”

Apollo raised his hand slowly. “the impediment jinx is a spell used to slow or stop one’s target,” he said quietly.

“Correct,” Moody said, as he went to the board to write down what Apollo had said. “How long does it last?”

This time Fiona raised her hand. “That depends on the target, sir,” she said confidently.

“And which targets might that be, Miss Jackson?”

“Armor–”

“Armored targets, sir,” Apollo had completely interrupted, flashing Fiona a wink.

“More specifically,” Fiona continued, annoyed, “Blast-ended Skrewts or Acromantulas.”

Moody paused at the board and turned around. “Would you two like to teach the class?” he said sarcastically. The twins shook their heads slowly. “Then wait till I call on you”

Moody returned to the board, and Apollo smirked at Fiona as she stuck her tongue out at him. “As the Jackson twins so kindly informed us,” he said, the impediment jinx only works on unarmored targets. Now, how to cast the jinx…”

Moody had the students move their desks to the side while he demonstrated the hex. The class was split into pairs, where one student from one group was required to cast the jinx against the other. Fiona wasn’t shocked to find she was paired up with her brother.

“C’mon Fiona, just do it,” Apollo begged as he was tired of waiting for Fiona to figure out how to cast the spell.

“I know how to do it!” she said, “I just don’t want to hurt you.” Apollo laughed at that. He knew that in reality Fiona was struggling to cast the jinx. “Don’t laugh at me!”

“I’ll laugh at you whenever I want, thanks,” he said snidely, casually crossing his arms as he leaned against a desk.

Fiona became angry enough with Apollo that she was finally able to cast the jinx, knocking him backwards over the desk.

“Good, Jackson,” Moody said flatly. “Now if only you could cast the jinx without getting angry. Oh and–” Fiona suddenly fell backwards as she hadn’t realized that Apollo had fired back at her. “Don’t turn your back on your opponent."

Once class ended, Fiona decided to interrogate Apollo.

“Why’d you have to be so mean?” she asked sincerely.

“It’s my job,” he replied casually.

“No, it’s not,” she said, pulling him to a stop.

“Yes it is,” he said, crossing his arms, “Haven’t you heard? I was given a contract at birth that says I’m required by law to mess with my twin sister at any opportunity!”

“Except at the Yule Ball,” she reminded him.

At that moment, Fleur had interrupted.

“Bonjour, my friendz,” she said, oblivious to the verbal disagreement between Fiona and her brother. “Fiona, I deed not see you at ze ball! Were you there?”

“Yes,” Fiona replied flatly.

“Well I ‘ope you ‘ad fun. Gemma etait belle in ze dress, no?”

Fiona nodded. “Yes, it was very nice of you to get that for her.”

“Anysing for my friendz,” she said digging into her bag. “De toute façon, I am going to smoke. Vouloir joindre?” Fleur held out a cigarette between her two long fingers, offering it to the both of them.

“No, merci” Fiona said. “I don’t smoke.” In reality she had never tried it.

“I do,” Apollo said quickly.

“No you don’t,” Fiona said, frowning.

“Yes, I do,” Apollo scoffed.

Fleur laughed. “Ah, seebleengs. Zey are so funny. I ‘ave a leetle seester. She iz eleven," Fleur said, touching her heart in adoration.

“Does she smoke too?” Fiona snipped sarcastically.

“Ona,” Apollo said quickly as Fleur raised her eyebrows. “Ne fais pas attention à elle, she is having a bad day.”

“Elle aurait besoin d’une cigarette…” Fleur said as Apollo ushered her away.

Fiona rolled her eyes and rejoined her roommates who were making their way to dinner.

“Everything orright, Fiona?” Gemma asked as Fiona had sighed heavily once she met up with them.

“Yeah, Apollo is just on one today,” Fiona sighed, “I don’t know what his problem is, I thought we were finally getting along…”

“You’re siblings, aren’t you?” Katie asked.

“Yeah?” Fiona replied, she wasn’t sure where she was going with that.

“And you’re twins?” Katie asked.

“Yes.”

“Well, it seems only normal for him to try and distance himself from you. He probably feels like he’s constantly compared to you. Though I do think it’s inappropriate for him to take it out on you.”

“Huh,” was all Fiona replied with. She hadn’t thought about it like that at all, but it made sense. “Katie, have you ever thought about becoming a therapist?”

“A what?” she asked, clearly never having heard of the profession.

“A therapist,” Fiona repeated. “Muggles mainly have them– but it’s someone that you talk about your life to and then they put everything into perspective.”

“Hold on–” Katie said, stopping short of the Great Hall, “people PAY to have their life put into perspective? That’s a real profession?”

“Sure is,” chimed Lucy. “When my parents thought about getting a divorce they had to go to therapy. Put their whole marriage into perspective.”

“I didn’t know your parents were separated,” said Fiona.

“No, they’re still together,” Lucy laughed. “Though heaven knows they shouldn’t be… I’m just glad I only have to spend my summers with them.”

They all giggled at that as they entered the great hall. It was left over pork chops from Christmas for dinner. Fiona had grown quite sick of it.

“Everything’s so boring now that we don’t really have anything to look forward to,” Lucy said as she dug into her broccoli.

“Boring?” George perked up. “We’ve another task to look forward to, don’t we?”

“Yes,” said Angelina, “but that’s not until February.”

“Ergh,” Lucy groaned, “But that’s SO far from now. What are we to do till then?”

“Homework,” Gemma and Fiona answered simultaneously.

“What if we played a game of Silent Mahoutsukai?” Fiona proposed. Everyone stopped eating and looked at her as if she had two heads. “Silent Mahoutsukai…?” she said again.

“The bloody hell is that?” Fred said suddenly. The others snickered.

“It’s a game we played at the wizarding summer camp I went to. Involves a lot of people. It’s really fun!”

“Alright, then,” said Angelina, looking intrigued, “what’s the premise?”

“Okay” Fiona said, preparing the games’ rules in her head. “So the game involves a group of people. Each person gets assigned a target– someone within the group. From there you have to approach your target as undetected as possible, making sure no one is around. Then when you and your target are alone, you tap their shoulder with your wand and say ‘sayonara’.”

“Intriguing,” Fred said.

George nodded in agreement. “Do go on, Jackson.”

“Right. If you and your target are alone when you say ‘sayonara’, your target is out of the game. You then inherit their target. The last person in the game wins.”

“Oooh! This sounds really fun!” Lucy said, clapping her hands excitedly.

“Are there any special circumstances in which your target doesn’t get out?” Gemma asked as she took a bite of her dinner bun.

“Yes,” Fiona replied. “If anyone around you hears you say ‘sayonara’, your target remains safe and you have to try again.”

“But then that makes it harder to get them out because they know who you are!” Fred whined.

“Exactly,” Fiona said. “That’s why I said you’ll want to try to get them when they’re alone.”

“I think it’s a brilliant idea,” said George, looking around to gain morale. “A perfect activity to hold us over until the next task!”

Everyone at the table nodded and agreed. Fiona said she would have a cauldron filled with name slips to be pulled by breakfast. Her stomach turned with excitement. She hadn’t played the game in ages, but she remembered how fun and competitive it was.

The next morning Fiona presented her friends with a cauldron full of names. Each person was to pick a slip with their target assignment’s name on it.

“Okay, Angelina,” Fiona said as she sat down at the breakfast table, “you first.” Angelina reached into the cauldron, pulled out a single slip, and read the name. She smiled mischievously as she put the slip in her pocket.

The cauldron went around the table until there was one remaining slip of which Fiona pulled for herself. She looked down at the parchment that read “George Weasley”.

Figures, she thought to herself.

“Right, so when does the game officially start?” Fred asked, looking around cautiously.

“As soon as we leave the Great Hall,” Fiona replied, after finishing her mug of tea.

“Any final rules and guidelines?” Gemma asked.

“Such a goody-toe-shoes, you are,” Lucy laughed. Gemma frowned.

“Umm…” Fiona thought for a moment. “Oh, no trading targets.”

“How much magic can we use?” George asked.

“As much as you want!” Fiona added, “So long as you don’t seriously injure anyone with it.” George grinned greatly at that.

It wasn’t long before breakfast ended and they all departed to their first classes and the game began. Fiona walked with her roommates while she watched George slowly depart to his own class. The first thing she was sure to do was find out what his schedule was like. She would need to see if there were any gaps aka opportunities for her to get him out.

“Already planning an attack, are you?” Katie said, snapping Fiona out of her daydream.

“What? Me? No…” She replied, flustered.

“Oh come off it, Fiona,” Lucy said, her red ponytail swishing side to side as she walked. “We’re probably all planning our tactics.”

“Well we can’t do that fer very much longer,” Gemma added as they entered their Charms classroom. “We’ve a quiz today, remember?”

“Oh, no!” Lucy groaned. “I’ve forgotten that. Quick, Gemma, remind me what we’re quizzed on today.”

“No way, Lucy,” she said, setting her books down on her desk. “I’ve helped yeh far too long.”

“It’s the revealing charm,” Fiona whispered as she sat down. “Aparecium.”

“Thank. You” Lucy mouthed silently as Flitwick began the class.

While the excitement around the game was fresh, it wasn’t long before the first person was “killed”.

“It’s not fair,” Lucy huffed as she sat down at the dinner table. “The game just started!”

“Lucy, are yeh out already?” Gemma asked.

“Unfortunately…” she grumbled..

“Who was it?” Katie asked excitedly.

“Angelina,” Lucy said as she irritably stuck her fork into her chicken. “She could’ve waited at least a day before she went ahead and got me out!”

“There’s no rule about that,” Fiona said.

“No, but there’s courtesy!”

Gemma patted Lucy on the back. “Maybe yeh’ll have a better chance next time!”

“I better!” Lucy huffed. “I guess it works out, though. Now Edmund and I will have more time to– er… study…”

The girls giggled at that, but Fiona frowned in confusion.

“Sure, if that’s what yeh call snoggin’,” Gemma laughed.

“Oh shove it, Gemma,” Lucy said, crossing her arms. “Like you haven’t snuck off to snog Dear Deanie before bed!”

“Gemma!” Katie gasped. “Is that true?”

Gemma burned a bright red. “Maybe, but that’s my business to share, innit?”

Fiona sat silently while the girls bickered. She hadn’t realized that Gemma had pursued a relationship with Dean after the ball. She suddenly felt a bit awkward about being one of the only single ones in the group. While there was some camaraderie between her and Katie, all of her other friends were in relationships. But she could get over it. Or so she thought…

The girls studied in the common room as the late evening crept in, and Fiona took it upon herself to find her Silent Mahoutsukai target. She hadn’t seen George all day, and Lucy getting out made Fiona anxious to find George and move up in the game’s roster.

“I think I’m gonna go to the kitchens before bed,” Fiona said as she stood and faked a yawn. “Y’all want anything?”

Fiona’s roommates shook their heads, clearly too focused on their homework. While she was trying to be generous, she had hoped they’d say no.

Fiona set out to the halls in search of a fruit bowl painting and a tall redhead, who was hopefully alone. She had only gotten stuck on the stairs once, which was a record for her. Fiona had convinced herself that the stairs had something personal against her. She wasn’t sure what it could be as she felt she was always very respectful towards its stone.

Her mind suddenly became distracted by a noise coming from behind a large medieval tapestry. She stopped, and listened closely, her wand at the ready in case it was something foul. She thought that perhaps it was a boggart. She’d never come face to face with one, and wasn’t sure what it would present itself as to her. But nonetheless, she knew the spell and wanted to be ready. She crept closer to the tapestry, trying to make out what it could be by the sound. It sounded like hushed giggling and breathing. Worried it was a slytherin attempting to pull a prank on her, she pointed her wand at the tapestry.

“Homenum revelio!” she chanted. In that instance, Fiona heard a girl and a boy shriek, and two bodies, clinging to one another, appeared from behind the tapestry. Fiona was stunned to see Angelina and Fred, holding each other tightly, their lips worn and red.

“Oi!” cried Fred, “You mind?”

“Sorry!” Fiona cringed, covering her eyes. “I thought you were some Slytherins trying to pull a prank! I didn’t think it would be you and Angelina and– sorry!”

Angelina burst out laughing, consoling Fred and Fiona. “It’s alright, Jackson. You didn’t know.”

“Right,” Fiona said, defeatedly. She hung her head in embarrassment. She knew it wasn’t supposed to feel like a big deal. It truly was an accident, so why did she feel so… awful?

“Sorry I yelled,” Fred said suddenly. Fiona realized instantly that her emotions were translating on her face, as she saw both Fred and Angelina staring at her with confusion.

“Where are you off to?” Angelina asked, with a kind smile, as if she were asking a small child.

“The kitchens…” Fiona replied, looking away, “I can’t seem to find the painting…”

“Want us to come with you?” Angelina asked, in her same forced comforting tone.

“Uh– no,” she replied quickly, “just need to be sent the right way.”

Fred, who seemed aware of Fiona’s discomfort, cleared his throat. “It’s just down the hall and to the right. Don’t forget to tickle the pear.”

“Thanks,” Fiona forced a smile.

“You sure you don’t want us to come?” Angelina asked again.

“C’mon, Ange,” Fred said, taking her hand and pulling her towards the common room. “‘Think Fiona wants to be alone right now.”

Fiona flashed them another weak smile and made her way to the painting like Fred had instructed. She didn’t know why, but she felt like crying. She choked as she held back her tears and tickled the pear. It felt like a weird setting, hearing the combination of choking tears and a giggling pear, but Fiona told herself she could cry once she made it to the kitchens. Once the portrait swung open, and the vast kitchen revealed itself, Fiona let her tears run. She sat at one of the cooking tables, her head in her hands and let the tears run.

“Is yous alright, miss?” a little elf, with large twinkly eyes asked her. Fiona sniffed and nodded. “Do yous wants to talk about it?” she shook her head. “How abouts a cuppa?” Before Fiona could reply, the little elf left and returned with a hot cup of tea. Fiona took the tea graciously and sipped slowly on the hot, soothing liquid.

Her tears continued to run down her cheeks, and the elf from before returned to her work as other elves watched her cautiously. She tried hard to figure out where these emotions came from. It felt sudden, almost shocking, that these tears came up. But as she thought about the series of the days events, she truly realized, for the first time since she had arrived at Hogwarts, she felt alone.

Fiona had never been one for relationships. It wasn’t that she didn’t want them. In fact, she wanted nothing more than to be in a relationship; to care deeply for another person and be cared for in return. Relationships were never on the table of options at Ilvermorny. The Ilvermorny boys had made it perfectly clear that she was not someone they wanted to go with. She had hoped it would be different at Hogwarts, and in a lot of ways it was, but while all of her girlfriends around her had made their way into relationships easily, she still struggled to earn the attention of her one possibility.

Fiona wasn't sure how she felt about George after everything. She worried that he didn’t like her in that way, especially since he went to the ball with Alicia. But there had been moments with him. At the ball, in the common room, in the hall, by the lake… it was all too confusing for Fiona. Her tears of sadness turned into frustration. Why couldn’t she have the answers?

“Hey, look who it is!” a voice called at the entrance, snapping Fiona out of her spiraling thoughts. Given her luck that day, it was no surprise to find George standing at the entrance. His grin faded quickly at the sight of Fiona’s puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “You alright?”

“Um,” Fiona sniffed. She felt totally unprepared, frantically wiping away her tears. George sat by her side quickly, trying to catch her gaze, but Fiona refused to look at him. She was too embarrassed that not only did he find her crying, but she was crying about him.

“Jackson?” George asked tenderly.

“S’nothing,” she said, sniffing again. She’d need to pull herself together. She couldn’t have George know she was crying over him. She tried standing up, and returning back to the common room but George wouldn’t let her.

“Wait,” he said, holding her wrist, and insisting she sit back down. “What’s happened?”

“Really, it’s nothing,” Fiona insisted.

“You already lost Silent Mahoutsukai?” he joked lightly.

“Not yet, thankfully.” Fiona had completely forgotten about the game, and in fact now would be the perfect time to get George out. But it didn’t feel like the right time. Afterall, he was consoling her.

“What’s happened, then?” George insisted again. “You can tell me, Fiona.”

He rarely said her first name. It felt like a special treat when he did which made her feel pathetic. She fought back more tears as she shook her head. “Just had a long day, is all,” she lied. “Didn’t get much sleep last night, either.” That part wasn’t necessarily a lie…

“Is there anything I can do?” he asked.

“No, I’m fine, really,” she said, forcing a smile. “I’m being pretty well taken care of here, anyway.” She had already finished her tea, and the elf from before was refilling her cup.

“Er, excuse me,” George asked the elf awkwardly. “Do you have any lemon tea cake left?”

“Yes. Would yous like some?” the elf replied.

“Very much so,” George grinned. “And some for my friend here.”

Fiona felt grateful that George was trying to be so kind, but she had never wanted him to leave more than in that moment. She just wanted to cry about a boy without him being right in front of her. Was that too much to ask?

“So, did you hear that Angelina already got her first target?” George said as he took a large bite of lemon cake, clearly trying to change the subject.

Fiona decided to play along. “I did. Lucy was pretty miffed about it, though.”

“Eh, she’ll live,” George laughed as he waved a dismissive hand. “Keeps you on your toes.”

Fiona nodded, unsure of what to respond with.

“So… who’s your target?” George asked.

Fiona raised her eyebrows. “If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.” She immediately regretted that cute reply, it could’ve easily given her away, but thankfully, George was dim enough to miss it.

“Oh come off it, Fiona! Just tell me! I promise I’ll keep it a secret!”

“No way, Weasley! Takes out the whole fun of the game!”

“But Fred told me his!”

“Oh yeah? Who is it?”

“Katie– No! Wait! Agh!”

“See!” Fiona laughed, pointing a finger. “There’s no way you could keep it a secret, you’ve just outed your brother’s target!”

George put his hands up in surrender. “Okay fine, you’ve got me.” They both laughed as they ate the last of their lemon cake. “I was pretty close to getting my target today, though,” he continued, his nose in the air.

“Impressive,” Fiona replied, as she crumpled up her napkin and put it on her plate.

“What about you? How close did you get?” George pried.

“Dangerously close,” she replied.

“But no luck?” he asked as he stood, holding a hand out for her to join him back to the common room.

“You could say that,” she replied.

Chapter Text

Classes continued with great anticipation as the second task drew nearer. Fiona wondered if Harry had come close to cracking the clue as to what the next task would be. It felt like it had been ages since he last tried to open the golden egg, amplifying throughout the common room the most horrific sound she had ever heard.

“What do you think the next task will be?” Fiona asked Gemma as they studied for their next Potions test in the Library.

“Not a clue,” Gemma replied, barely looking away from her textbook. She frowned in confusion. “Do yeh remember which countries invented the antidotes for that of scaled reptiles?”

“Um, let me think…” Fiona sighed. She tried hard to focus, but her mind kept wandering. “Wasn’t it Indonesia, Singapore, and China?”

“Aye, that sounds right,” Gemma nodded as she furiously scribbled in her notebook.

“Of course that varies based on the species,” Fiona continued, “but I think it was those countries that initiated the anti-venom research.” Gemma furiously wrote down what she said, which alarmed her. “Maybe, double check though…”

“Why? Yeh sound right to me,” Gemma said, finally looking up.

“Eh, my mind’s not really in it right now,” Fiona replied, as she saw Katie walking towards them. “Maybe we can ask Katie… Hey Katie!”

“Hey,” Katie replied, rather dully and slamming her book bag onto the library table.

“Yeh orright, Katie?” Gemma asked cautiously.

“Fine, I’m just out of the game, is all…”

“Of Silent Mahoutsukai?” Fiona asked. She was surprised to see that Katie was one of the first people out.

“Yep. Fred got me out, that prick,” she huffed as she sat down at the study table with them.

“How?” Gemma asked.

“Jelly-leg jinxed me!” Katie yelled, which encouraged a sharp hush from Madam Pince. “I was in the courtyard on the way to Arithmancy and the next thing I knew, I could barely walk! Then Fred appeared and pretended to help me up. That’s when he put his wand on my shoulder and said ‘sayonara’. I’ve never been so mad!”

“Cheer up, Poppet, it’s only a game,” Gemma tried to comfort.

“Easy for you to say! You’re still in the game, aren’t you?” Gemma only shrugged at that. Katie sighed, finally coming down from her anger. “What are you working on?”

“Potions” Fiona and Gemma replied in unison.

“Perfect. I’ll need to work on that before tomorrow,” she said, opening her own textbook.

“Speaking of which, do you remember which countries invented anti-venoms for scaled reptiles?” Fiona asked

“Er…” Katie thought for a moment. “It was Indonesia, Singapore, and China, wasn’t it?”

“See?” Gemma said, giving Fiona a slight nudge with her elbow. “You shouldn’t doubt yourself so much!”

Fiona smiled shyly and returned to her textbook.

After the girls finished studying their potions they met up with the sixth years in the common room. Katie was still upset about Fred getting her out, making the conversation pretty tense.

“Oh, c’mon Katie, I had to!” Fred said, as he twirled his wand, sending a paper airplane swirling through the air.

“You didn’t have to play so dirty!” Katie said, crossing her arms.

“Hate to break it to you, darling, but that was not playing dirty,” Angelina said.

“How do you know?” Katie huffed.

“Well, we’re talking about Fred Weasley,” Angelina replied, motioning towards Fred, who flashed her a wink. “He could’ve done far worse than the jelly-leg jinx!”

Katie narrowed her gaze at Angelina. "We know you two are going together now, you don’t have to defend him all the time!” she hissed.

Angelina’s mouth dropped open as Fiona and the others snickered quietly at Katie’s dig.

“Jackson,” George said as he suppressed his laughter, “didn’t you say this was supposed to be fun?”

“It is fun!” Fiona said, “y’all are just too competitive!”

“Okay,” Gemma said suddenly, “the rest of us should make a deal.”

“What do you mean?” Lee asked.

“If we get ‘killed’, we’re not allowed to guilt our opponent about it…”

They all stared at her for a moment as they thought.

“Ahem,” Fred said, pointing his finger in the air, his paper airplane flying away and bonking an unsuspecting student in the head. “I’d like to request at least two complaints.”

“None,” Gemma replied.

“One?” Fred countered.

“Fine,” Gemma agreed. “One complaint.”

“That’s all I need,” Fred said, as he leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head.

“Right well, we should be off, yeah?” George said to Lee and Fred.

“Off?” where?,” Katie asked.

“We’ve got business to tend to!” Fred replied as he stood and stretched.

“Not this again,” Angelina groaned as she rubbed her temples.

Fred quickly leaned over to Angelina. “You’ll regret that once I’m rich and I’ve bought you our dream home!” he said before kissing her on the lips and walking up the stairs to their dorm.

“See you,” George said to the table, though his gaze lingered on Fiona.

“Wait for me!” Lee said as he followed them up the stairs.

“Sorry,” Angelina said to the girls, after snapping out of her daydream. “Did he just say our dream home?”

“Sounds like it,” said Katie with a slight smirk.

“When’s the weddin’?” Gemma teased.

“Oh, hush,” Angelina said quickly, though she seemed to be suppressing a smile.

“Hello Ladies,” said Lucy, who had just appeared from the portrait hole.

“Where’ve you been?” Fiona asked. Though with one glance at Lucy’s red and worn lips, she already knew the answer to that question.

“Edmund,” all the girls answered before Lucy could herself.

Lucy hid her face with her hands. “God, is it obvious?”

“Your lips really give it away…” Angelina said as kindly as possible.

Lucy sighed and sat down at the table. “Well, whatever. I’m not going to stop snogging him just because it makes my lips red. That’s just silly!”

The girls giggled at that, and continued chatting until it was almost curfew.

“I’m off to bed,” Gemma said as she stifled a yawn. “We’ve got that potions test tomorrow…”

“Oh, god I’ve forgotten that too!” Lucy said, cringing. “Gemma…”

“No. No way, Lucy!” Gemma said as she started for the stairs.

“Gemma! Please, just this once!” Lucy said, calling after her.

“No!” Gemma called back.

“Wait! Gemma–” She called again, following her up the stairs

Katie, Fiona, and Angelina laughed heartily at the exchange.

“Will Lucy ever learn?” Katie asked.

“Doubtful,” Angelina joked.

Katie sighed and stood. “I’m off to bed too. Coming, Jackson?”

“Um…” Fiona replied, gazing at Angelina for a moment. “In a minute, if that’s alright?”

“Course, see you then,” she said, backing towards the stairs. “G’night, Ange!”

“G’night!”

Silence lingered over Fiona and Angelina for only a moment until Fiona found her courage.

“Um… Angelina, how’d you move things along?”

Angelina frowned in confusion. “Sorry?”

“With Fred, I mean. How’d you two start… you know… dating?” While Fiona was desperate for this conversation, she hadn’t realized it would be so painfully awkward.

“Oh,” Angelina said, realizing what Fiona meant. “Well, I dunno… he just kind of… kissed me…”

“Right,” Fiona muttered. “Did you do anything… to, like, convince him to?”

“This is about George, isn’t it,” Angelina replied.

Fiona looked away shyly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, sure,” Angelina said, rolling her eyes. “Like I didn’t see you watching him at the ball all night, staring daggers at Alicia.” Fiona frowned and Angelina chuckled.

“Nevermind,” Fiona said with a pout.

“No, I’m sorry,” Angelina said, suppressing her laughter.

“I shouldn’t be asking anyway. He must be dating Alicia now.” Angelina grew quiet. She’d only said it to put an end of the conversation, not because she believed that. But based on Angelina’s silence, her random assumption seemed to be correct. “It’s true, then.”

“I’m afraid so,” Angelina said in a low yet comforting voice. Fiona’s heart shattered, she felt she may cry. “Don’t worry, Fiona. There’s someone else out there for you.”

Fiona nodded slowly, feeling nothing but defeat.

“Look, I’ve got to go to bed soon, but we can talk more about this later?”

“Sure,” Fiona said, “G’night.”

Angelina flashed a kind smile and made her way up the stairs. She didn’t want to believe what Angelina said and part of her wanted to keep on like nothing had changed. Or even better; like George fancied her too. But he didn’t. He fancied Alicia, a very beautiful, talented girl that Fiona didn’t know. Instinct told her to hate her, but she knew that was wrong. It wasn’t Alicia’s fault she wasn’t dating George. In a way, it was her own. She didn’t ask him to the ball in time. If you snooze, you lose. And she had certainly lost.

It was just Fiona in the common room alone with Harry and his two friends. Hermione and Ron argued about matters likely related to the next task, while Harry sat quietly, his head in his hand. She made eye contact with him, his brows furrowed with worry. Fiona flashed him a weak smile as if to say “good luck,” and made her way up to bed. How silly, she thought as she made her way up the stairs. Here she was worrying if a boy liked her, meanwhile Harry had to worry about his well being and the next task in the tournament. She’d need to gain better perspective more often.

After weeks of clouds and cold, Hogwarts was finally blessed with a sunny, and relatively warmer day. And since it was Friday, Fiona found herself outside in the courtyard, reading another book her father had sent her called 1984, a science-fiction/dystopian novel. She’d finished To Kill A Mockingbird, a book she greatly enjoyed, and wished she was able to discuss it with someone, but not many students at Hogwarts were found reading Muggle, let alone American-Muggle literature. Nonetheless, she trudged on with her father’s book suggestions; her newly gifted walkman playing the Cranberries’ Everyone Else Is Doing It So Why Can’t We? and her back protected by the castle wall. She was sure to not become too relaxed, for she’d been assigned as a target, and didn’t want to make it too easy for whoever it was. She was deep in the fifth chapter of her book and fourth song on the album when someone lifted her headphone up.

“Yoo-hoo! Jackson!”

Fiona jumped and looked up to see Fred squatting down next to her, holding her headphone in his fingers. She ripped her head away, annoyed that she had just been interrupted.

“Can I help you?” she asked irritably.

“Oi sorry,” Fred said with a grin as he sat down beside her. “Just curious as to what you’re reading, is all.”

“A book my dad sent me,” she said irritably, though she still showed him the cover.

“Nineteen eighty-four…” he read aloud. “Never heard of it. Is it muggle fiction?”

“Yeah, it’s one of my dad’s favorites,” she said. "It's pretty good, though I’m not sure if I like it as much as the other one that he sent.”

“Ah yeah,” he said as he watched the passing students make their way to their next classes. “Georgie’s mentioned how much you like muggle fiction.”

Fiona perked up at that. “He has?” she said as casually as possible, though it must not have been very convincing as Fred smirked at her response.

“Oh sure,” he said, leaning his head back against the castle wall and soaking up the sun, his red hair radiating in the light. “He talks about you a lot, actually.”

Fiona frowned. “That doesn’t seem appropriate,” she replied.

“No?” Fred said, sitting up with a toothy grin.

“He’s dating Alicia now,” She said, fingering the pages of her book.

"That's true," he agreed. “Still, there’s something going on between you two, I know it.”

Fiona rolled her eyes and went back to her book. “Well if you know it, then why are you asking me?”

“Well, believe it or not, Georgie’s a bit secretive. He doesn’t tell me a lot, and especially when it comes to romantic interests…”

Fiona scoffed. “Romantic interests?”

Fred smiled and nodded like it was obvious. Was it obvious? Fiona thought.

“There’s nothing romantic going on,” she said defiantly. “We shared a dance at the ball, that's it.”

“Ah, but there’s something deep inside of me that says there is.”

Fiona looked up from her book again. “Angelina talked to you, didn’t she?”

Fred hesitated, though his grin still remained. “She may have mentioned– er… something.”

Fiona sighed and put her book down. She knew she wasn’t going to return to that any time soon. “Okay, fine. I thought that maybe something…”

“Something?” Fred said, urging her to continue.

“I thought maybe he liked me, but I don’t know…” Fiona sighed. “I must have been wrong since he has a girlfriend now.”

“Well, do you like him?” Fred said rather bluntly.

Fiona looked at him. For some reason she feared this question. When she had talked to Angelina about it a couple nights before, she hadn’t really confirmed her feelings. She knew how she felt. Why was she so scared of others knowing?

Fiona took a breath and cleared her throat.

“I… I think I–”

“Yo! Ona!” a voice called from behind the courtyard pathway. It was Apollo, holding a letter up in his hand. “Letter from Mom!” He looked concerned.

Fiona jumped up and made towards Apollo, leaving Fred behind. “What is it?” she asked.

“It’s Mamaw…” he said, a worried look in his eye.

Fiona’s heart sank. “What? What happened?”

Immediately Apollo’s worried look broke into uncontrollable laughter. “Nothing! I’m totally kidding.”

“WHY– WOULD– YOU– JOKE– ABOUT– THAT!” Fiona yelled, whacking his arm with her book after every word.

It only made Apollo laugh harder. “Because this is your reaction. Anyway, I only wanted to ask you something not important, but since you were talking to George, there’s no way I’d ever get your attention unless it was something serious.” Fiona frowned. Was it that obvious to everyone?

“That’s Fred, not George,” Fiona said, looking over to the red headed boy who was still seated by her stuff.

“Oh,” Apollo replied, scratching his head. “It’s so hard to tell.”

Fiona sighed. “What do you want, Apollo?”

“Well, our birthday is coming up,” he said.

“Yeah, not for another month…”

“Mom wants to know if we want anything,” he replied, holding up the letter.

“The only thing I want, she can’t give me,” she said, crossing her arms. Every year Fiona asked for the same thing–

“A crawfish boil? Again?” Apollo said, hitting his forehead with his palm.

“Yes!”

“Oh, c’mon Fiona, really?” Fiona stuck her nose in the air, not interested in defending her birthday wish any further.

Apollo grew tired of this request years ago. Before they attended Ilvermorny, Fiona and Apollo would have a crawfish boil every year for their birthday. Neighbors, their grandmother, and even distant family would gather at their house for live music and seafood. But once they started wizarding school, things changed. Their birthday was March twenty-fifth, a date that did not permit them to be home for this occasion. Therefore, Fiona and Apollo hadn’t had a boil in years, even though Fiona asked for one.

“Look,” Apollo started, “maybe we can do one this summer. But isn’t there anything else you’d want to do?”

Fiona sighed, looking over to Fred again who seemed he had fallen asleep. “I– I don’t know yet,” she said.

“Okay,” Apollo said defeatedly. Fiona thought that he’d have walked away by then, but he was still there, standing there awkwardly.

“Is there something else?” Fiona asked irritably. “I really should get back to my friend. He might sunburn…”

“Yes,” he replied as he scratched the back of his head. “Do… you want to have our birthday’s together?”

Fiona frowned in confusion. “What do you mean? Our birthdays are always together—”

“I mean," he interrupted, "do you want to celebrate together?”

“Oh,” Fiona said. She was not expecting that at all. At Ilvermorny, Apollo always made it a point to not share a birthday party. He did everything to make sure people knew they weren’t related. So hearing him have interest in sharing a celebration confused her. “Um… sure…”

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to–”

“No,” Fiona cut him off. “We should have our birthdays together.”

“Okay,” Apollo said. They both stared at each other awkwardly. Fiona wasn’t sure of what to say.

“I should get back—”

“No, yeah, of course,” Apollo said, clearing his throat and putting his hands in his pockets.

“But let’s talk more about this,” Fiona said, forcing a kind smile.

“Right. Good,” Apollo smiled back.

Fiona returned to the sunny lawn where Fred lay, practically snoring.

“Hey,” Fiona said, gently kicking his foot.

“--huh? Oh. Hi,” Fred said, squinting in the sun as he adjusted himself upright. “What’s that all about?” He gestured to where Apollo had stood.

“Oh, he wanted to ask about our birthday,” she replied as she sat down beside him.

“When’s that?”

“March twenty-fifth.”

“Oi, that’s next month!” Fred said, suddenly appearing more awake. Fiona nodded. “Well we’ve got to do something for it!”

Fiona laughed. “I don’t even know where to start with planning—”

“No, don’t you worry about that!” Fred winked, “George and I will do that for you! Master planners, we are.” Fiona smiled as he collected his book bag and checked his watch. “Blimey, I’m late to my next class. See you–”

Before Fiona could reply, Fred was already gone.

A few days passed and the second task had arrived. Fiona had hardly seen Harry and his friends in the days leading up to it. Just like the last task, all of the students congregated in the common room before making their way down to the event.

“Where do you suppose the task is?” Katie asked as she fastened her red scarf around her neck.

“I think a prefect is supposed to announce it any minute,” Gemma joined in.

Conversation ensued a bit more until a blonde Prefect girl announced to the common room that the task would take place at the Black Lake.

“The Black Lake?” Fiona questioned.

“Oh, no!” Lucy gasped. “I’m hardly dress appropriately for the lake.”

“We’re not going swimming,” Gemma sighed irritably.

“Oh… right,” Lucy blushed. “Well, look girls, I’m going to sit with Edmund today.”

“Lucy, why don’t you just have him sit with us?” Katie offered. “We hardly know him, except for you and Fiona.”

“You’re sure?” Lucy asked.

“Of course,” Gemma smiled.

Lucy squealed excitedly, hugging her roommates. “Oh you’re going to love him! Just promise you’ll be nice!”

The girls promised and made their way out of the portrait hole and down the Gryffindor tower. It was a decently frigid morning, as Fiona wrapped her coat tighter around herself, hoping it would help keep in the warmth.

“Wooh! It’s chilly, innit?” Gemma said, her hands hidden in the pits of her arms.

“I’m freezing already,” Fiona agreed.

They made their way into the stands,, finding seats with as best a view as possible. The stands looked out over the Black Lake, the water lapping on itself on the wind.

“You think they’re gonna have to swim in that?” Fiona asked Katie.

Katie nodded. “Seems like it…”

“They’ll die of hypothermia before they even finish the task.” Lucy said as she returned with Edmund at her side.

“Hi Edmund,” Fiona said with a kind smile. He looked a bit nervous but returned the smile.

“Hi Fiona,” he said kindly, as he took a seat next to Lucy, her hand in his.

Fiona suddenly felt even colder at the sight of their affection. Has the wind picked up? She thought to herself, as she shivered in her jacket.

It wasn’t long before the Weasleys, Angelina, Alicia and Lee appeared in the stands. Fiona waved to them and Angelina, who seemed to be searching for her, beelined it straight towards her.

“Ahoy!” George chirped with Alicia by his side. Fiona ached at the sight of them together. She’d need to get over this, and fast.

“It’s a beautiful day, innit?” Angelina said.

“I don’t know, Ange. I’m freezing,” Fiona replied, her arms crossed to make more warmth.

“What are you on about?” George questioned, “It’s rather perfect, I’d say.”

“Yes, well, we’re used to Scottish winters,” Alicia said, as she sat between Fred and George.

“No, I’ve endured Massachusetts winters,” Fiona said as she shook her head. “It’s much worse, I promise.”

“Then this should be nothing!” George said, his arms out as if to prove how wonderful and warm it was.

“Yeah…” Fiona said, rubbing her hands together.

“You think you’re getting ill?” George said as he placed the back of his very warm hand on her icy forehead. She wished he wouldn’t touch her, especially near his girlfriend. Fiona wasn’t sure if she could control her expressions. “Woah!” he said as he pulled his hand back like he’d touched dry ice. “No way you’re sick! You really are freezing!”

“I wouldn’t lie!” she said.

“Hey, George,” Katie called from the other side of Fiona, “What do you suppose the task is today?”

“No clue,” George shook his head as he took in the Black Lake. Fiona could see the champions gathering by the shore. To Fiona’s surprise, Harry wasn’t there.

“Is Harry sick?” she asked, squinting to be sure she didn’t mistake him for Bagman.

“He seemed fine when we saw him last night in the Library,” George replied. “Told Hermione and Ron they had to see McGonagall, actually. Wonder what trouble they’ve gotten in.”

“They’re not here, either,” Angelina said as she gazed around the stands.

“Probably just running late,” Katie added.

Fiona looked at her watch. “Well they’d better hurry. The task will start any minute.”

“Look!” Alicia said pointing out to the lake. “Harry’s just run over!”

At Harry’s arrival, Bagman turned and addressed the stands.

“Well, all our champions are ready for the second task which will start on my whistle,” he boomed. “They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One . . . two . . . three!”

Bagman then blew from his whistle a loud shriek igniting the champions to charge for the depths of the Black Lake.

“Woooh!” Fiona cheered.

“C’mon Harry!”

Harry appeared to stumble for a moment, slowly making his way into the lake. He seemed to be trembling. Fiona hated to imagine how cold the lake must have felt. Though it must have felt as cold as she did now. She wasn’t sure if she could get any colder.

While the other champions had likely made their way to the bottom of the lake already, Harry still lingered on the shore. The slytherin side of the stands began to laugh.

“Bit nippy, isn’t it potter!” one very blonde Slytherin boy laughed.

“Good one, Malfoy,” his very round friend replied, patting him on the back.

“What’s wrong with Harry?” Lucy asked.

“Don’t know, but I’m about ready to push him in,” George said, shaking his head. “Malfoy’s already on one, that prick.”

“Who’s he?” Fiona asked.

“A right foul git, he is,” Angelina said, leaning over George.

“He's a pure blood,” Katie added. “His family was a big supporter of you-know-who. Been advocating for the extermination of muggle-borns and half-bloods for centuries.”

“You-know-who?” Fiona shivered. “Is that the guy who tried to kill Harry?”

“Aye,” Gemma said. “Malfoy’s not the only one who’s prejudiced in this school though…”

“That Terence Higgs has had it out for me since day one,” Lucy said suddenly. Fiona saw Edmund squeeze her hand. “He knows I’m muggle born, and hasn’t let me forget it since I met him.” Lucy looked straight ahead and clenched her jaw.

“Has he hurt you?” Fiona asked, suddenly shocked to hear of this. How and why hadn’t she heard of this earlier?

“He’s definitely tried,” Lucy said stiffly. “Just hope one of the Slytherins doesn’t find out you’re a half-blood. You’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Look!” George said suddenly, pointing out to the lake. “Harry’s jumped in!”

The girls looking out onto the black lake. The wind had picked up enough that waves washed up on the shore like the ocean would on a beach. They waited to see if Harry would reemerge for air but he never did.

“You think he’s mastered the bubble head charm?” Lee asked.

“I dunno…” George said, squinting at the lake. “...I could’ve sworn he had flippers…”

“Flippers?!” Angelina burst out in laughter. “You think he’s a mermaid now?”

“Have you gone mad, George?” Alicia joked.

“Maybe,” he said, taking off his jacket and joining in on the laughter.

“How are you taking off your coat?” Fiona asked earnestly, as she wrapped her own tighter around herself. “It’s f-f-freeeezing.”

“I dunno!” George shrugged. “I’m just really warm at the moment.”

He stretched his arms out, his pale skin glistening in the dull light of the wintry afternoon. Fiona gazed at the muscles in his arms as he flexed, and glanced to see Angelina and Fred grinning at her. She quickly looked away.

“Can’t believe you’re warm,” she replied, through gritted teeth. She hated that Angelina and Fred saw her admiring George, especially since Alicia was right next to him. It made her uncomfortable.

“Well, here,” Fred said, picking up his coat, and placing it around Fiona’s shoulders. “Why don’t you just take mine.” Her heart leapt and she could feel her face get warm. She didn’t bother looking at Angelina and Fred again. One glance from them would make her burn even hotter.

“Uh, no thanks,” Fiona said shyly, as she pulled off his coat. She leaned closer to him so she could whisper. “Maybe offer it to your girlfriend instead.”

George leaned away slowly, putting his jacket on his new girlfriend. She smiled at him as she pulled the coat around herself.

Once the champions had disappeared into the lake, Bagman made another announcement.

“Ladies and Gentleman!” he began. “You may be curious to know what has been taken from each champion. But we should ask ourselves, rather, who has been taken from them!”

The group flashed each other quick glances before Bagman continued. “Four students near and dear to the champions have been asked to participate in today’s task. Each champion should come across a companion of theirs and rescue them before the hour is up!”

“You think Hermione and Ron are down there?” Angelina asked.

“That would explain why McGonagall wanted to see them last night,” Fred replied. “Though, there should be one student for each champion. Why’d they need both Ron and Hermione?”

“Because Krum is pretty mad about Hermione,” Katie said matter of factly.

“Oh, rubbish,” said George.

“It’s true,” Gemma added, “They danced the whole night at the ball. That was until…”

“Until what?” Fiona asked.

“Well,” Gemma bit her lip, “when I came up to bed Ron and Hermione were in a pretty heated argument in the common room…”

“That’s probably cos Ron’s mad for her,” George said nonchalantly.

“Come off it, George,” Angelina said, nudging him with her elbow.

“No it’s true,” Fred said. “He’ll never admit it though.”

It grew quiet again as the crowd died down and nothing else was seen within the lake.

“So,” Alicia said, “what now?”

“Er– not sure,” George said as he scratched the back of his head.

“Are we just supposed to sit here until one of them returns?” Fiona asked.

“Seems like it,” Gemma replied.

“Well, that’s not very exciting, is it,” Angelina huffed.

Forty-five minutes passed with no action, and Fiona was beginning to feel sleepy.

“Not falling asleep, are you?” Katie asked.

Fiona’s mouth stretched into a yawn. “This isn’t exactly exciting,” she answered.

There was a crackling noise coming from down the row. Everyone turned their head to find Lee opening a bag of chips.

“Oi! Where’d you get those crisps?” George inquired.

“Where else, Georgie?” Lee replied, raising his eyebrow. “The kitchens.”

“Care to share some of that with the rest of us?” Angelina said as she snatched the bag out of Lee’s hands and took a handful of chips.

“Oi, give some here,” Katie demanded as she reached over Fiona and George for the bag.

“Save some for me!” Lee told them. “I was the one who went through the effort of going to the kitchens and getting it.” The group assured him that there would be enough chips left for him but by the time the bag came back to him, all that was left were crumb bits.

“You all owe me,” Lee huffed as he irritably crumpled up his now empty bag of chips.

Fiona yawned again.

“Did you sleep last night?” George asked.

“Probably not,” Katie answered. “Lucy was snoring all ni– ow!”

“Do you mind?” Lucy said through gritted teeth after she had hit Katie on the arm, motioning her head towards Edmund who still sat beside her. He seemed to be quite amused, biting his lip to suppress his laughter.

Fiona yawned again, covering her mouth and trying to hide it. Fortunately no one saw that time, allowing her to close her eyes. Just for a minute, she said to herself. She wasn’t sure why she was so tired. Truthfully, she slept very well the night before. Still, the conversation around her turned into a low hum, and she couldn’t help but drift into a sleep.

“Hey! There’s Fleur!” Katie yelled, waking Fiona from her slumber. She awoke to find herself leaning against her shoulder. “Oh, sorry, did I wake you?”

Fiona yawned and squinted out onto the lake to find Fleur trudging through the water on to the shore. “No it’s okay, what’d I miss?”

George smiled kindly. “Nothing really. It’s been quite boring here on earth.”

“Fleur’s not with anyone,” Katie said as she looked out onto the lake.

Fleur made it to the beach of the lake and collapsed onto the rocks. She seemed to be injured or exhausted, Fiona wasn’t sure which was the case.

“Miss Delacour has returned, but has failed to retrieve what has been taken!” Bagman announced.

Madame Maxime and a few other students rushed to Fleur's aid, bringing towels and a coat. They helped her up and moved her further on to the shore.

Fiona yawned again, covering her mouth but George saw her and laughed.

“Wake up, Ona,” he said, rubbing warmth back into her arms. “You’ll miss all the action!”

Fiona’s heart jumped as he touched her arms. She casually wiggled out of his grasp

“I know, sorry, I’ll try to stay awake,” she said, trying to play off her discomfort. You’re making this so much harder, she thought to herself.

“It seems that Cedric has returned with Hogwarts student, Cho Chang!” Bagman interrupted.

The Hufflepuff side of the stands erupted into cheers, yellow banners, scarves, and hats flying into the air.

“Oh, c’mon Harry!” Lucy groaned, wrapping her arm around Edmund’s.

“How much longer do you think it’ll be?” Angelina asked.

“We’re about an hour past,” Katie said looking at her watch.

“They’d better hurry,” Fiona remarked, leaning over to glance at Katie’s watch.

It wasn’t long before Krum appeared with Hermione, his head in shark form. Karkaroff had to de-transfigure him back to normal as others wrapped both him and Hermione in towels.

“Well that leaves us in last place,” Katie said as she checked her watch anxiously.

However Fiona spotted a redhead pop up from the lake, followed by a blonde.

“Look!” she said pointing out towards the lake. “It’s Ron! But who’s the girl?”

By the reaction Fleur had to seeing the little blonde girl in the water, they realized it had been her younger sister, Gabrielle.

Finally they were able to spot Harry in the water and the Gryffindors got to their feet, cheering with great excitement. The group grabbed on to each other as they jumped excitedly in the stands. Fiona found herself holding George and him holding her. She looked at him for a moment and dropped her hold, embarrassed by her inability to control herself. George seemed to realize as well, as he quickly turned to celebrate with Alicia instead.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Bagman announced over the cheers, “we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows. . . .

“Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points.”

A generous applause came from the stands, but it sounded more like pity to Fiona.

“Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour. We therefore award him forty-seven points.”

The Hufflepuffs were on their feet again, nearly creating a frenzy.

“Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points.

The Slytherins and the Durmstrang students cheered loudly.

Harry Potter used gillyweed to great effect,” Bagman continued. “He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour.” The Gryffindors held their breath, including Fiona and her friends. “However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr. Potter was first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own. Most of the judges feel that this shows moral fiber and merits full marks. However . . . Mr. Potter’s score is forty-five points.”

Fiona and her friends were on her feet again, ecstatic at the news.

“The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty fourth of June,” continued Bagman. “The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions.”

“I can’t believe he did it!” Katie said back in the common room as they set up to celebrate Harry’s success.

“I can,” Gemma said, setting a bowl of chips down on the table. “Harry’s brilliant, always has been! We really ought to give him more credit.”

“What’s on the blasting-box tonight?” George asked Lucy, who was in the corner setting up her music station. He looked rather dashing, so Fiona thought. He wore a brown t-shirt underneath a rather nice blazer. Fred matched his outfit. She wondered what the blazers were for. Probably trying out their business-casual attire, Fiona thought.

“You mean boombox?” Fiona asked through her giggles.

“Er— sure,” he said as he put his hands in his pockets, turning a light shade of pink.

“We’re switching between my music and Fiona’s,” Lucy said as she popped a tape in. “Let’s start with The Cure then, shall we?”

The boombox clicked and whirled before emitting a gorgeous washy-guitar riff. Eventually the drums joined in and people started to relax and move to the beat of the music.

“Lucy, maybe you should be a professional DJ,” Fred said as he pulled Angelina in the center to dance.

“I think that’d be great!” Fiona said.

Lucy shook her head adamantly. “Oh no, I’m staying in the wizarding world after we finish school.”

“Then you’ll have to start a radio show for wizards,” George said to Lucy as he slipped his hand into Alicia’s. “Your talent’s too good to waste!” He started pulling her to the center where Fred and Angelina danced.

Fiona’s heart sank as she watched George twirl Alicia around to the music. It was so unfair, she thought as she watched Alicia laugh in his arms. George had pretty much spent the first half of the year flirting with her and there he was with someone else. The worst part was that he wouldn’t stop being overly-kind to her. She felt like crying again. And she would’ve if it weren’t for Harry and his friends entering the common room.

The students erupted into a roar of applause, of which Harry took humbly, whilst Ron seemed to bask in it. They all crowded Harry like they had after the first task, curious as to what had happened under the water. Fiona hung back for a minute to recollect herself as everyone else ran up to congratulate Harry.

She felt someone staring at her and turned to see Angelina eyeing her.

Fiona frowned. “What?” she asked, mindlessly applauding with the rest of the common room.

“You look,” Angelina paused, taking Fiona in. “Sad.”

Fiona rolled her eyes. “I’m not exactly thrilled,” she admitted. Angelina gave her a pitiful smile and light pat on the shoulder. “Will this ever get easier?” She found herself asking as she watched George kiss Alicia on the cheek. Angelina said nothing, instead giving her hand a supportive squeeze

Chapter Text

Things returned to normal after the second tournament, though the weather had been far from it. While it had stopped snowing, the wind had kept up, making the trek to Hagrid’s class pretty miserable.

“Oh, don’t you wish that Hagrid would have class inside just once?” said Lucy on their way to CoMC, her cheeks rosy from the wind that whipped around them.

“Doubtful,” Fiona replied bitterly as she wrapped her cloak tightly around her, her face was also red from the icy burn of the wind.

“I hear there actually is a designated classroom fer Care of Magical Creatures,” Gemma added, her voice muffled behind the scarf that wrapped around her neck and face. “It’s a shame we don’t use it.”

The girls tried to keep themselves warm during the class, as Hagrid went on about Bowtruckles. Fiona looked around at all of the students, who were bouncing up and down to try and warm themselves. No matter how dramatic the students were in regards to the cold, Hagrid couldn’t take the hint. Nonetheless, the girls survived and made their way to the great hall for lunch.

“Please let there be soup,” Lucy moaned as she rubbed her hands together. The castle wasn’t as cold as the outdoors were, but it definitely wasn’t warm.

The great hall was relatively populated compared to how it had been in the last couple days. They joined the Weasley twins, who were huddled around that week’s edition of Witch Weekly. They were snickering to themselves as they read the magazine.

“Wot’s tha’?” Gemma asked, her accent coming out thicker than ever.

“Witch Weekly,” Fred answered as he looked up from the magazine.

“Rita Skeeter’s published a new article about Harry Potter,” George added before giving Fiona a wink. Fiona sucked in her cheeks as she suppressed a smile. Would he ever quit it?

“Only this time Hermione’s in it,” Fred laughed, as he handed the magazine over to Lucy. Her eyes scanned the page and then she gasped.

“I didn’t know Harry and Hermione were dating!” She said, a severe look of confusion on her face. Fred and George guffawed as Gemma and Fiona ripped the magazine out of Lucy’s hands, investigating the article for themselves.

“They’re not dating,” George said quickly.

“It’s all rubbish,” Fred added.

Fiona continued reading, however, and got to the interview with Pansy Parkinson.

“She’s really ugly,” says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, “but she’d be well up to making a Love Potion, she’s quite brainy. I think that’s how she’s doing it.”

“Gee, this Pansy Parkinson girl sounds…”

“Atrocious?” Lucy answered.

“Evil?” Gemma added.

“Yeah,” Fiona scoffed as she nodded, “You could say that.”

“Oh, Merlin, is that the Witches Weekly?” Angelina asked as she joined them at the table. They all nodded. “I overheard some of the Slytherins snickering about this in the hall. What’s Rita Skeeter said now?”

They handed the magazine to Angelina and she read the article. “Pssh,” she scoffed as she threw the magazine down on the table, “what a load of rubbish.”

“That’s what I said,” Fred chimed, looking at Angelina for her approval.

“So Fiona, I hear your birthday’s coming up?” Angelina said as she served herself some tomato soup.

George looked up quickly from his lunch. “Is it?” he asked.

“Jackson, yeh didn’t tell us tha’!” Gemma exclaimed.

Fiona blushed at the attention she was suddenly receiving from everyone at the table. “Uh, yeah… the twenty-fifth.”

“Oh, that's this weekend!” Lucy practically squealed. “We should do something!”

Fiona grimaced “Um yeah about that—”

“Oh, don’t tell me you don’t do birthdays,” Lucy cringed.

“No, it’s just that my brother wants to celebrate together,” she said, nervously scratching the back of her head.

“I think that’d be great!” George said.

“How should we celebrate? A party in the common room?” Gemma asked.

“Well Ange and I have been thinking…” Fred began.

Katie put her head in her hands. “Please no practical jokes!” she sighed. “Not on a birthday at least…”

“Your faith in us is a little insulting, Bell,” Fred said with a toothy grin.

“We were thinking Karaoke at the Three Broomsticks,” Angelina said, a mischievous look in her eye.

“But they only do Karaoke in the evenings,” Lucy said, her confused frown returning and forming a crease between her red brows.

“Yeah,” George said, “what about it?”

“Are you daft?” Lucy said, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “We’re not allowed out at night.”

“Technically that’s true,” Fred said. Angelina looked at him knowingly. “But only if you get caught.”

ah, Fiona thought, there it is.

“Don’t yeh think we’ll get caught?” Gemma asked.

“No we won’t,” Fred said firmly. “I’m sure of it.”

“But we’re underage…” Fiona finally said. “Plus, wouldn’t they recognize us from Hogsmeade weekends?”

“Only Madame Rosmerta, but she doesn’t work Friday nights,” George whispered with a knowing grin.

The girls stared at the twins with worried looks.

“Look, we’ve done this before, we won’t get in trouble!” Fred said.

“And if, on the very rare chance we do, you can just blame us,” George said as he looked at his brother who nodded in agreement. “We’re used to detention.”

“Alright, I’m in,” Fiona agreed, a mischievous grin stretching on her own face.

“Me too!” Lucy said excitedly.

“Fine, me as well,” Gemma reluctantly said. “But don’t expect me to be singin’. I’m no good.”

“Oh, we’re all singing,” George snickered.

Fiona smiled gratefully at him. She hadn’t had a birthday she enjoyed since she last had a crawfish boil. Initially she was disappointed she wouldn’t be getting one again this year, but now she wouldn’t be missing it much at all.

—

“Happy Happy Birthday!”

Fiona woke suddenly to see her three roommates sitting on top of her bed. Lucy’s long red hair was falling out of her bun, Katie was still half asleep, and Gemma was wrapped in her nightrobe.

“Look! We’ve brought you a cupcake!” Lucy said, holding out the pastry with pink frosting and a blue striped candle sticking out the middle. She lit the candle with her wand as Fiona sat up.

“Thank you,” Fiona croaked. She still hadn’t fully woken up.

“Go on!” Lucy chirped as she held out the dish again with its now-lit candle. “Make a wish!”

Fiona closed her eyes thinking hard. She always hated this part of birthdays. While most people complained about being sung to, Fiona hated making the wish the most. Every time she closed her eyes to think of one, nothing came to mind. Or maybe, everything came to mind. So when Fiona was ten years old she decided she would just close her eyes and pretend to make one.

The girls coughed as the smoke of the extinguished candle filled the small enclosure around the bed. Gemma threw back the curtains to reveal a fairly nice day. The morning sun bled through the windows, casting a shadow of the window panes on the stone wall. Fiona yawned and stretched making her way to the bathroom.

“Don’t take too long!” Lucy called to Fiona from the bedroom. “We’ve got presents for you!”

Fiona sighed in the stall. She had never received gifts from friends on her birthday. Today would be the first day. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt a bit guilty about it.

When she returned to her bed, the gifts were already laid out. One from each girl. She decided to get the worst over with by starting with the largest looking present. She opened the card on the box first.

Fiona,
Thanks for being such a great friend
Gemma

Fiona smiled at Gemma and opened the present to reveal a roll of pink sheep’s wool yarn.

“Oh wow!” Fiona said as excitedly as possible. Though her stomach dropped at the sight. “It’s perfect. And it’s pink!”

“Me next!” Lucy said quickly, clapping her hands together excitedly.

Fiona looked for the present from Lucy. It was a small square package, wrapped in an old copy of the daily prophet. A small note written in marker was scratched into the wrappings.

Love you!

Lucy

Fiona tore open the paper to find a copy of Paul & Linda McCartney’s “Ram On” on tape.

“An oldie, but goldie!” Lucy said before Fiona could say anything.

“Thank you so much!” Fiona said as she set the tape down and reached for the last gift.

“I hope you like it,” Katie said, stifling a yawn.

Katie’s gift was a silver music-note charm and a charm bracelet.

“It’s beautiful,” Fiona said as she held up the charm to the morning light.

“It’s not just beautiful,” Katie replied. “It’s a charm.”

Fiona looked up and frowned. “Right… a charm bracelet…”

Katie laughed. “No, it’s a charm. It’ll tell you where a person is if you ask it! Go on, give it a go.”

“Okay,” Fiona started. “Where is Lucy Byrne?”

A sudden whooshing noise filled Fiona’s ears and the most beautiful voice rang in her head.

“...Lucy Byrne is on her bed in the Gryffindor Tower…

“Woah,” Fiona breathed.

“Cool, innit?” Katie smiled. The bags under her eyes were beginning to deflate.

“Yeah thank you so much… all of you…” Fiona trailed off as she looked at her new gifts.

“Yeh orright, Jackson?” Gemma asked.

Fiona looked up to find her roommates staring at her. “It’s just,” she began, “I don’t know how I can repay you for these gifts…”

“Repay us?!” Lucy blurted. “You mad? You don’t owe us anything!”

“Yeah,” Katie said. “We wanted to give you these!”

Fiona smiled again. She felt a little better and decided to put her new McCartney tape into Lucy’s boombox as they got dressed for breakfast. She was sure to grab the knitted gift she made for Apollo before the girls made their way to the great hall.

“Paulie!” Fiona shouted as she ran up to her brother who had just walked into the hall. She wrapped her arms around him for a very tight embrace which he half-heartedly returned. “Happy Birthday, twinnie,” she said as she parted.

“Thanks, Ona,” Apollo smiled bashfully. “Uh… here’s your gift.” He held out a hideskin journal with gold rimmed paper. “It’s a disappearing ink journal. So you can write whatever and no one can read it.”

“Wow…” Fiona said as she inspected the journal in her hands. “Thank you, Paulie… Here’s mine.” She wrapped the blue scarf around his neck, the one she knitted. “It’s blue… for Ravenclaw.”

“Uh… thanks…” he said with a slight smile. He usually cringed impulsively at Fiona’s knitted gifts, but this time was different. Did he actually like it?

“So listen,” Fiona said before Apollo started back towards the Ravenclaw table. “We’re all going to the Three Broomsticks tonight for Karaoke…”

“I don’t sing…”

“Well, you don’t have to, but please come.”

Apollo thought about it for a minute. “Okay I’ll be there. Mind if I bring a friend?”

“Sure,” Fiona smiled. “Meet in the Gryffindor Common Room a little before curfew. The password is ‘snifflepugh’”.

Apollo snickered at that before making back towards the Ravenclaw Table.

When Fiona followed her roommates to their seats at the breakfast table she was disappointed to see that neither George nor Fred were there. Angelina was, however, and she was over the moon to see Fiona.

“Happy Birthday, Fiona!” She shouted as she jumped up and gave Fiona a great big hug.

“Thanks, Ang,” Fiona said as she sat down beside her. The guilt from earlier that morning had seemingly disappeared as more and more of her friends showed her how much they really cared for her. But where were those redheads? She leaned over “Uh… so, where are the Weasleys?” Fiona asked.

Angelina grinned mischievously as she spread jam on her toast. “Just you wait,” she said in a low voice.

But Fiona didn’t have to wait long. In an instant the Weasley twins appeared, making quite a ruckus and running down the aisles between the tables.

“Good morning, Everyone!” Fred shouted to all who ate their breakfast.

“Oh, God,” Fiona said as she sank down in her seat. The girls laughed at her embarrassment.

“We’ve got something important to announce!” George added, looking directly at Fiona.

Together, the Weasleys pointed their wands at the ceiling and out of thin air appeared a huge red and gold Gryffindor banner they recycled into a new one. The new banner read “Happy Birthday Fiona!” followed by decently sized fireworks that lit up the whole great hall.

“Oh, God,” Fiona said again, sinking so low, only her eyes could be seen above the table.

If that wasn’t enough, George turned towards the great hall’s entrance and yelled “now!”, and out came the Winds from the Hogwarts Orchestra blasting the Happy Birthday Melody. Fred and George ushered the band over to where Fiona sat, the bell of the trumpet blasting straight into Katie’s ear.

“Well, if you weren’t awake earlier, you’re definitely awake now!” Gemma joked over the loud melody that continued.

After what felt like ages, the band finally finished their rendition of “Happy Birthday,” and George sent more fireworks into the air.

“Happy birthday, Jackson,” George said both quietly and sincerely.

Fiona slowly sat up, and was about to say thank you, when she was interrupted by a very angry McGonagall.

“Mr. Weasleys!” she huffed. “Is there a reason you 're making that much of a ruckus this morning?”

“Why, yes, Professor,” George said smoothly as he smiled cunningly at her. “It’s our dear friend Fiona’s birthday, and we just wanted to show our appreciation.”

“Well, however much it is, it’s too much!” McGonagall said, pointing her finger at Fred. “Detention, both of you. Tomorrow.”

“Certainly, Professor!” Fred replied.

“Can’t wait,” George smiled.

McGonagall sighed and turned to face Fiona. “Ms. Jackson, I must tell you Happy Birthday, but if you’re to be friends with these two, I expect you to control them.”

“Uh, thanks Professor?” Fiona replied shyly before McGonagall made her way out of the Great Hall.

Angelina leaned over to Fiona. “She already tried that on me and see how much that worked out…” Fiona laughed.

The rest of her day was fairly easy as they only had DADA. She spent most of her time in the courtyard with her friends, playing music and cards. And DADA itself was pretty harmless, though all of the Ravenclaws were staring at her throughout the class– probably from the public display the Weasleys had produced earlier that morning.

After class she desperately needed to use the bathroom and told her roommates she’d meet up with them in the Great Hall for dinner. As she walked out of the girls bathroom, she noticed a small gaggle of boys hanging out in the hall. She didn’t pay too much mind and tried to continue making her way to dinner but one of the boys whistled at her. She stopped in her tracks and scowled at the boy. He was a dirty blonde thin boy, wearing Slytherin’s robes, and he looked at her curiously.

“Oi,” he said to her, “You Fiona Jackson?”

Fiona looked around the hall with concern. Besides the two other boys that were with this blonde one, they were alone.

“Yes,” she said plainly.

“Quite a parade those Weasley traitors provided you at breakfast, wasn’t it” he said, cocking an eyebrow.

“I guess…” she said. She didn’t have a great feeling about this interaction already. And what was that he had just called the Weasley’s? Traitors??

“It’s funny,” he said, looking at the nails on his fingers, “I don’t remember you knockin’ about with the Weasleys. You’re new.”

“I transferred this year,” she said, putting her hands in the pocket of her robe. Really, she was making sure her wand was there… just in case.

“Yeah, I asked around about you today,” he said as he slowly walked towards her. “You and your twin came from America, innit? With your mum?”

She nodded slowly as she carefully inspected the approaching boy. His eyes were a dark chocolate brown, and he was about an inch or two taller than her, though he tried very hard to make it seem like more.

“But what about your dad? Where’s he?”

“In America.”

“Why?” he pressed

“Why do you care?” she pressed back.

The boy suddenly stood very close to her, about an inch from her face. “He’s a muggle, in’he?”

Fiona grew very quiet. She knew why he was asking. It was never a big deal where she came from, who her parents were or how they met. But at Hogwarts and in England it was different. Fortunately, Professor Sprout appeared around the corner, just as Fiona clutched her wand.

“Evening, students,” she said. Immediately the other boys' demeanor changed and the blonde one backed off.

“Good evening, Professor,” the boy said with a snide smile.

“Don’t want to miss dinner! I hear it's excellent tonight!” the plump professor called behind her as she passed.

“‘Course not,” the boy said while looking directly at Fiona. “See you around… Jackson....”

And finally the boy made off with his friends. What a weird interaction Fiona thought to herself. But still it sent a strange chill down her spine. She tried to shake it off as she made her way to the Great Hall.

“There you are!” Lucy said, taking Fiona’s arm and pulling her into the seat next to her. “Where’ve you been?”

“I got stopped in the hall by some weirdo,” she replied as she served her plate of baked chicken.

“What? Who?” Katie asked.

Fiona shrugged. “No idea,” she tried to say casually. She didn’t want to worry her friends.

“Who was it? Is he here?” Gemma asked.

Fiona looked around the Great Hall nonchalantly. “Oh, there,” she said, cocking her head at the boy who sat at the Slytherin table. “That dude at the Slytherin table.”

“Who’s he next to?” Lucy said, standing up and looking around very obviously.

“Uh…” Fiona said, worried at how obvious Lucy was being. “He’s the blonde guy between. those two boys. The one with square glasses and the other with jet black hair.”

Lucy went white immediately and Gemma noticed. “Luc, wha’ is it?” she asked.

“Terence Higgs,” she said plainly as she sat back down.

“Higgsth?” Katie said, with a mouth full of food. She swallowed. “What’d he want?”

Fiona shrugged again as she mindlessly pushed the food around on her plate. “He asked if I was new.”

“Wha’ else?” Gemma asked.

“And about my dad,” she said, looking worriedly at Lucy.

“Damn him,” Lucy said under her breath. “He knows you’re half-blood. Did he say anything else?”

“Not really,” Fiona said, trying to brush off the interaction. “Professor Sprout appeared and then he said ‘see you around, Jackson’ and left.”

“That was a threat,” Lucy said quickly. “Gem, don’t you think that was a threat?”

Gem held her hands up as if to calm Lucy. “We don’t know tha’–”

“But–” Lucy interrupted.

“But,” Gemma continued, turning to Fiona “It wouldn’t hurt to watch yer back from now on.”

“Yeah,” Katie agreed. “You might let Apollo know too. Just in case.”

“Um… okay,” Fiona sighed.

There was a moment more of uncomfortable silence before Lucy seemingly snapped out of her worried trance. “So!” she chirped, “What do you lot have planned to wear tonight?”

“Hadn’t even thought of that…” Fiona admitted.

“Well, we’ll need to wear something that makes us look older,” Lucy said before taking a swig from her goblet.

“What does that mean?” Gemma asked.

“It means we need to show off these,” she replied, cupping her hands around her breasts and pushing them up.

Katie nearly spit out her drink. “Merlin, Luc, we’re eating!”she said.

“Oh, come off it Katie!” Lucy said, rolling her eyes.

“Or what?” Katie teased.

“Or I’ll be doing your makeup tonight,” Lucy grinned mischievously.

“Please, no! Anything but that!” Katie said dramatically, shielding her face with her hands.

The girls laughed and ate their meals, sharing ideas on what outfits they could put together.

In the end, Fiona stood at the foot of her bed, mulling over which shirt to pair with which jeans. And which jacket to wear with which shoes.

“I don’t know!” Fiona said, anxiously running her fingers through her golden curly hair.

“Please just let me help!” Lucy said, joining Fiona at the foot of her bed. She was already dressed up in a tight black dress that showed off her curves quite nicely.

“No!” Fiona said, backing away slowly.

“Why?” Lucy pressed, her hands on her hips.

“I’m scared…”

“Look,” Lucy said, picking up a dark purple tank top with black embroidered lace from her bed. “Wear this, with your jeans, and your black boots.”

“But it’s freezing out!” Fiona said, crossing her arms. “Every coat I have will ruin it.”

“Take this,” Lucy said, pulling out a long leather jacket from her chest. “Now put everything on! I don’t want to hear another complaint until I see what you look like.”

Fiona groaned and pulled her clothes on. She and Lucy were roughly the same size, so both the tank top and jacket fit perfectly.

“Yes,” Lucy said as she took in Fiona’s outfit. “Now sit on your bed and let me do your makeup.”

Fiona groaned again. “I– I think you’ve helped enough–”

“Sit!” Lucy demanded, pointing to Fiona’s bed. Without another word Fiona sat on the bed and Lucy brought her makeup over.

“She’s scary when she’s angry,” Katie whispered.

Lucy’s head snapped up. “If the birthday girl doesn’t look fit on her birthday, we’ve done something wrong!”

Katie held back laughter as she held her hands up in surrender.

After several layers of blush, lipstick, eye pokes of eyeliner, and eyelash crimps from what looked like a medieval eye-torture device, Lucy was done.

“Voila!” she said, ushering Fiona to look at her work in the bathroom mirror.

Fiona took a shy glance in the mirror, worried she’d look like a clown or a hooker. But on the contrary she looked… hot. Her eyelids were smokey, but not so smokey you couldn’t see her eyes, her blush was the perfect shade for her complexion, And her lips were a vampire red, but not too dark she looked like her grandmother, and not too bright she looked like a hooker.

“Woah,” Fiona said.

“Do you like it?” Lucy asked, clapping her hands together excitedly.

“You’re like… a magician with this stuff!” Fiona said, turning her head side to side to see the different angles of Lucy’s work.

“Or a wizard,” Lucy joked, taking Fiona’s hand and pulling her back into the room.

“You look great!” Gemma said.

“Thanks,” Fiona blushed.

Her roommates also looked fantastic. Gemma wore high-waisted jeans with a white t-shirt, a floral waistcoat, and a black choker to top it off. Even Katie looked spectacular in a dark red skirt, and a leather aviator jacket.

“Ladies, I think we’ll be the fittest girls in Hogsmeade tonight!” Lucy said, pulling on a long peacoat.

“That’s not a hard task to achieve,” Katie replied with a laugh.

“Right,” Gemma said as she stood. “Shall we? It’s almost time.”

The girls agreed and headed down the stairs into the common room. It was pretty barren except for a few people including Apollo and Fleur. so that was who he wanted to bring Fiona said to herself.

“‘Appy Birsday, Fioona,” Fleur said, holding her hands out for a hug. Fiona obliged. The hug was very light as Fleur barely touched her.

“So, how much longer?” Apollo asked.

“Not long,” Fiona replied. “We should be expecting the Weasleys any minute now.”

It wasn’t long before the red headed twins appeared followed by Angelina and Lee. Fred vocalized obnoxiously, singing in an operatic voice and going up and down his range.

“Oi!” Katie yelled at Fred, plugging her ears with her fingers.

“What, I can't warm up?” Fred challenged, his hands on his hips.

“Maybe save your voice, is all,” Angelina said with a laugh. Fiona looked around to see if George’s new girlfriend was there, but she was nowhere to be seen.

“No Alicia?” Fiona asked Angelina in a low voice.

“Sick,” Angelina replied with a pitiful smile.

“Right,” George said as he motioned for a huddle. “Lee and Angelina have snuck out with us before but this will be everyone else’s first time so–”

It was suddenly quiet and Fiona looked up at George to see why he had stopped speaking when she realized he was looking right at her. His mouth was agape as he looked her up and down, taking her in. Lucy giggled and Fiona blushed before Fred took over the lecture.

“So, we’ll need to go over a few important things,” Fred said, looking at George warily.

“Er… Right,” George replied, finally snapping out of his daze. “Freddie and I will lead the way.”

“It’s essential you stay behind us,” Fred added. “If we get intercepted by staff or prefects, we’ll need to know first so we can handle it.”

“‘Ow weel you ‘andle eet?” Fleur asked, a cocked eyebrow and hands on her hips.

“With this,” George said, pulling a rigid stone out of his pocket. “Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder.” Fiona looked at the black stone in George’s hand.

“Any other questions?” Fred asked, everyone looked at each other. “It’s best to ask now before we leave. We shouldn’t speak to one another until we reach the passage.”

No other questions emerged from the group and George led the way through the portrait hole, not before taking one last long gaze at Fiona. Lucy giggled again, this time eyeing and elbowing Fiona as she did it. Fiona blushed again, shaking her head and following the others through the portrait hole.

Before each corner that they turned, Fred and George were sure to take a peek in case anyone was coming. Quickly but silently, the group made their way through the moving staircases. Fiona’s heart beat quickly as adrenaline pulsed through her veins.

It was when they were on a moving staircase that Fred ordered all of them to “get down.” Immediately, without further questions, the group crouched down behind the staircase’s railing.

“Fred, what is it?” Lee whispered.

“Norris,” Fred whispered back. Fiona wasn’t sure who that was as she hadn’t heard of a Professor or Madame Norris at school. After a few peeks over the railing, Fred ordered everyone back on their feet and to move quickly.

Finally, they reached the Great Entrance where a statue of the One-Eyed-Witch stood.

“Dissendium,” Fred and George chanted together, and the hump on the witch's back opened up to reveal an entrance.

“No way,” Katie said in disbelief.

“Been here five years and not once did I know about this,” Lucy whispered to Gemma.

“Okay,” Fred said as he climbed into the witches hump, feet first. “Follow me.” Fred pulled himself forward and disappeared down the witch's hump.

George helped everyone into the hump one by one, Fiona being the last. Again, George took another long look at her before sending her down the slide. When she landed it was dark and cold, she wrapped her coat firmly around herself and pulled out her wand.
“Lumos,” she said, and a small ball of light appeared from her wand. She caught up with her friends a bit down the underground passage.

“Right,” said Fred, who turned to the group, “It’s a bit of a walk from here, but trust me it’s worth it.” He turned back around and started down through the very dark and wet passage.

The tunnel had looked as though it were dug out by hand, with some rocks from the ceiling fallen and piled on to the floor, and tree roots hanging from the walls and ceiling.

“Oi, Fred,” Katie called from the middle of the moving line, “How many people know about this?”

“Not many,” George replied, as he caught back up to lead the way with Fred. “We found out about it from the Maurad– ouch! Fred, that was my foot!”

“Oops,” Fred said rather unapologetically. He turned to face the group while walking backwards. “We found it from the castle’s blueprints in Filch’s office.”

“The castle has blueprints?” Gemma questioned.

“Yeah,” said Apollo, “don’t you think the blueprints from when they first built the castle would be gone? Turned to dust by now?”

Fred cleared his throat and George scratched his head awkwardly.

“Er–” George began, “I don’t think they were the originals… Besides, we don’t have 'em anymore… Lost ‘em.”

“So,” Fred chirped, “What will you lot be singing tonight?”

“I’m not singing,” Apollo said quickly.

“Rubbish!” the Weasleys said in unison.

“My song is a surprise,” Lucy chimed.

“I’m trembling with anticipation,” Fred said sarcastically.

After a decently exercising walk, the group finally made it to the end of the passage. George pushed up on a stone slab that was covering an exit hole. He slid it open and peaked out of the hole.

“Okay,” he said in a whisper, “It’s clear. Let’s go!”

George pulled himself out of the hole and helped the others up, while Fred hoisted them from the below. Once Fiona entered the room she knew instantly where she was. The smell hit her nose first: sugar, chocolate, vanilla, and butterscotch. When she lit her wand she confirmed her suspicions that she stood in a back storage space for HoneyDukes.

Once everyone had been properly helped out of the passage, George replaced the stone slab on the floor, and ushered everyone out the back door. They made it to the main street of Hogsmeade without interference and helped themselves into the Three Broomsticks. Fiona had hardly seen the place as empty as it was. Afterall, she had only been there during Hogsmeade Weekends when almost the entire student body also was. The pub was warm and the lighting was low. The Karaoke machine had already been set up and an older gentleman was singing his heart out to Frank Sinatra’s “My Way” (though not very well).

The biggest worry that Fiona had about this night was that Madame Rosmerta would be working and bag them immediately, but to her luck, a young man named Nigel was working the bar instead. The group shyly entered the pub, though the Weasleys walked in like they owned the place.

“Ahoy, Nigel,” Fred said as he approached the bar, holding his hand out for a shake.

Nigel smiled, shaking his hand. His sleeves had been rolled up to reveal a large nautical anchor on his forearm. Fiona immediately understood the “ahoy” reference.

“What can I do for you, Bill?” Nigel said as he threw his bar rag over his shoulder.

Bill? Who’s Bill?

“I think we’ll start with Fire Whiskeys,” George said. Fiona’s stomach sank. They were going to drink? She had never drank before…

Nigel peered from behind George. “Looks like that’s an order for ten? Having a party tonight?”

“Oh yeah,” Fred said as he joined George at the bar. “It’s our friends’ Fiona and Apollo’s birthday today.”

“Good to see you too, Charlie,” Nigel said as he shook Fred’s hand.

Oh, I get it now

“Alright, then,” Nigel said as he lined up ten shot glasses, “ten Fire Whiskeys coming up!”

Fred and George took the group to the largest table as Nigel brought over a tray with Fire Whiskeys.

“This is pretty bold to start off, don’t you think?” Angelina said as she watched Nigel place the shot glass down in front of her.

“How else would we celebrate? Cheers!” George said before painlessly downing his shot of whiskey.

Fiona sighed. He had clearly done this before and didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of George. Everyone had just about downed theirs, though not as painlessly as Fred and George. Angelina shivered, Lee stuck his tongue out, and Lucy let out a “hoo!”. Fiona bit her tongue and eyed her firewhiskey. Even Apollo had drank his. She decided to act on impulse and quickly downed her drink. It burned her throat as it went down, and made her cough a few times. The group cheered her on to which she smiled, while suppressing a few more coughs.

“Okay, now it’s the drinker's choice!” George said as he pulled out his wallet, “what does the lot want?”

“Hold on,” Fiona said quickly, “You’re not paying for all of this.”

“Really it’s no problem, Jackson,” George said with a grin.

“Yeah, we’ve got it covered,” Fred added.

“I can’t let you,” she pressed.

“No really,” Lee said with a knowing grin, “They can cover it.”

“‘Ow?” Fleur asked.

“Weasley Wizard Wheezes, mon cherie,” George said with a wink.

“Quoi?” she replied as she looked to Apollo for guidance. Apollo merely shrugged, so Fiona explained what it was in French.

“I always forget yeh can speak French,” Gemma added. Fiona smiled and blushed. But maybe that was the alcohol finally working its way into her system.

They all gave George their orders and he quickly returned with them. Fiona decided on a beer, something that wouldn’t hurt so much going down. The drinks arrived and the group bantered and bickered actively, the alcohol loosening their hinges.

Angelina chugged the last of her gin and tonic and slammed the glass down onto the wooden table. “Right,” she said before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, “let’s get this party started, shall we?” And before anyone could stop her she was already at the Karaoke machine, whispering to Nigel which song she wanted. With a tap of Nigel’s wand, a slow ballad emerged from the machine and amplified into the pub. Angelina did a slow saucy dance around the machine as her friends cheered her on. Clearly the alcohol was hitting her hard.

CLOSE YOUR EYES, MAKE A WISH
AND BLOW OUT THE CANDLE LIGHT

“Oh god, not this song!” Apollo cringed.

Fiona frowned in confusion. “Which song is it?” she asked.

Lucy laughed heartily. “Just wait,” she added.

BABY ALL THROUGH THE NIGHT I’LL MAKE LOVE TO YOU
LIKE YOU WANT ME TOO

“Oh NO!” Fiona said before laughing hysterically. It clearly fueled Angelina’s passions further, as she began to belt into the mic.

She mosied over to Fred and caressed his face as she sang, even sat in his lap. He was red with embarrassment, or maybe it was booze. Regardless, the group laughed hysterically as Angelina sang to each person. Fleur and Apollo were horrified, Lucy and Katie were on the floor with laughter, and Fiona, Gemma, Lee, and George cheered her on. Angelina completed her performance with a bow, and the group erupted into applause.

inspired by Angelina’s performance, the group ordered another round of drinks. Fiona hadn’t even realized she’d finished her first beer, she was having so much fun.

Fred downed two more shots of whichever clear liquor he was drinking. “My turn!” he said, running up to the Karaoke machine and tapping it with his own wand. The machine’s blue screen illuminated a “4-3-2-1” and Fred cleared his throat.

”CAN’T TOUCH THIS”

The whole table screamed with excitement at the realization of which song Fred chose to sing. Even the wizard-borns.

“Oh, he does this one every time,” Angelina said over the cheers.

“And he murders it every time!” Lee added.

“Yeah, cause it’s the only muggle song he knows!”

”MY, MY, MY, MY
MUSIC MAKES ME HIT SO HARD
MAKES ME SAY ‘OH MY LORD
THANK YOU FOR BLESSIN’ ME
WITH A MIND TO RHYME
AND TWO HYPED FEET’”

The girls screamed and threw their hands in the air while Fred fake-stripped, slowly pulling his jacket off. Apollo, George, and Lee looked at each other with grave concern.

”STOP! HAMMERTIME” Fred sang before dropping the mic on the floor.

“Oi!” Nigel yelled. “That’s the only mic we’ve got!”

“Sorry,” Fred said unapologetically as he say back down at the table.

“OKAY!” Lucy yelled over the commotion. She was very drunk at that point. “It’s my turn! Move out of my way!” She stumbled over to the Karaoke machine and tapped it with her wand. At once a jangly melody echoed throughout the pub.

“How much has she drunk?” Gemma asked with a concerned look. Fiona only shrugged. Lucy started to sing, or more so croak drunkenly.

”SHE LIVES IN THE HOUSE OVER THERE
HAS HER WORLD OUTSIDE IT
SCRABBLES IN THE EARTH WITH HER FINGERS
AND HER MOUTH
SHE’S FIVE YEARS OLD

“Which song is this?” Apollo asked, leaning over to his sister.

“No idea,” Fiona replied. Even for a master of muggle music, her taste and collection was no match for Lucy’s.

And then Lucy began to scream.

”SCRUBS HORSEFLIES AND PINCHES THEM ON A LINE
AAAaaaaaaaAHHHHhh
AaaAAAHHHEEEEEOH
AAAaaaaaaaAHHHHhh
AaaAAAHHHEEEEEOH”

“The bloody hell is this!?” George asked, plugging his ears. A few other older gentlemen at the bar did the same.

Fiona laughed. She knew at once who it was. “It’s Björk!”

Lucy, who was still singing her heart out, approached them so slowly it was almost threatening.

”TODAY IS HER BIRTHDAY
THEY’RE SMOKING CIGARS
HE’S GOT A CHAIN OF FLOWERS
AND SEWS A BIRD IN HER KNICKERS”

Then she pulled herself on top of their table and screamed furiously into the mic.

”AAAaaaaaaaAHHHHhh
AaaAAAHHHEEEEEOH
AAAaaaaaaaAHHHHhh
AaaAAAHHHEEEEEOH”

When she finished her song, she hopped off the table and planted two wet kisses on Fiona and Apollo’s forehead. Apollo quickly rubbed the kiss off of his head. Fleur couldn’t help but giggle. Lucy received a loud applause from the group when she finished, and bowed in appreciation. A few more drinks and it wasn’t long before George was up at the machine. He paused before tapping it with his wand.

“Er, this one’s for the birthday girl!” he said softly into the mic, then tapped the machine with his wand. Fiona blushed at that, though she tried very hard to hide it. If anyone asked, she knew she could blame it on the liquor. Still, there was something deep down that wished he wouldn’t dedicate a song to her.

Another jangly tune picked up and Fiona recognized it immediately. “Is this Oasis?” she asked, leaning over to Lucy.

“Yup!”

“How does he know Oasis?”

“He’s practiced,” Angelina interjected, flashing Fiona a wink. Fiona looked up at George, who looked rather nervous to sing, his one hand holding the mic, the other in his pocket.

“SHE’S ELECTRIC
SHE’S GOT A FAMILY FULL OF ECCENTRICS
SHE’S DONE THINGS I’VE NEVER EXPECTED
AND I NEED MORE TIME”

“Wooh! Go on Georgie!” Angelina cheered, which appeared to make George more confident in his singing abilities. Fiona thought it wasn't half bad. He began swaying side to side as he warmed up to the song a bit more.

“SHE’S GOT A SISTER
GOD ONLY KNOWS HOW I’VE MISSED HER
AND ON THE PALM OF HER HAND IS A BLISTER
AND I NEED MORE TIME”

More of their friends cheered George on, causing him to break free from whatever nerves shackled him to that one spot by the karaoke machine. He rushed forward, taking Fiona’s hand and pulling her up from her seat onto the open floor. Her friends followed, though she barely noticed. She was too wrapped up in George’s performance, but moreso his blue eyes and the dance he was doing with her. But the voice deep down returned. “Stop,” it said. “This is wrong.”

“AND I WANT YOU TO KNOW
I’VE GOT MY MIND MADE UP NOW…”
“BUT I NEED MORE TIME”

The voice was louder now, but instead of rejecting the situation, it questioned it. “Was George trying to say something?” said one voice. “Don’t be silly, he has a girlfriend,” another said.

“CAUSE I’LL BE YOU AND YOU’LL BE ME
THERE’S LOTS AND LOTS FOR US TO SEE
THERE’S LOTS AND LOTS FOR US TO DO
SHE IS ELECTRIC, CAN I BE ELECTRIC TOO?”

It was silly of her to think of this as anything other than a performance, but the devil on her shoulder tried hard to convince her otherwise. And that it was a message that told her George’s true feelings. Nevertheless, the devil took over and she decided to surrender to the alcohol that pulsed through her veins, and dance with George and her friends. That was, until the arrival of Madame Rosmerta.

“What the bloody hell is going on here?!” she said, standing at the foot of the stairs that no doubt led up to her apartment. The group froze at the sight of her. Fiona didn’t know to run or stay put. She looked at George for a clue, but he was as still as everyone else.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Nigel said, silencing the karaoke machine with his wand. “Too loud?”

Still in her night gown, Madame Rosmerta stepped forward, squinting as she took in the group. Then the realization hit her “What in Merlin’s name are you doing here?”
“What’s the problem?” Nigel asked

“These are Hogwarts Students!!” She said, shaking her finger at poor Nigel, who had nary a clue.

“Students?!”

“Time to go!” Fred blurted out!

“Run!” George commanded and the whole group scurried out the door, entering the darkness of Hogsmeade in different directions. Fiona’s hand in George’s, they ran through the mazed streets, hopeful to lose anyone who may be following them. At one point she saw Lucy and Gemma running in the other direction, but with all the liquor and adrenalin, she couldn’t keep her mind straight. She was thankful she was with George. Eventually they slowed to a stop, hiding behind a doorway in an alleyway.

“You… alright…” George said between huffs as he struggled to catch his breath. Fiona, who also out of breath, only nodded, hands on her knees as the feeling of exhaustion caught up with her. Eventually they caught their breath and waited silently for the sound of Madame Rosmerta’s or Nigel’s footsteps. Fiona occasionally caught George side eyeing her.

“You know,” George began in a whisper, “you look fit tonight.”

Fiona frowned in confusion. “Uh thanks… I don’t really work out, though…”

George laughed quietly to himself. “I mean, you look really good tonight.”

She wanted nothing more but to take that compliment, but she knew she couldn’t. Fiona sighed, George’s comment sobering her up. The devil on her shoulder weakened and she began to think clearer. “George, are you allowed to tell me that,” she said, a tinge of aggression in her voice.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you serious?” she was getting mad. “What about Alicia?” George grew quiet, unable to reply. “George?”

He licked his lips, like he was preparing to say something when suddenly the door they stood in front of ripped open. “Hey!” said the older, scruffy-looking man standing in the doorway. Fiona and George ran away, back towards honey-dukes.

George led the way, though this time he didn’t take her hand. It was a very quiet jog back to the Honeydukes passage, but it wasn’t long before they ran into others.

“Oh thank Merlin,” Gemma said at the sight of Fiona and George. An unconscious Lucy sat limp at her feet in the passage, a bit of vomit laying next to her. “The others have already gone back to the castle, but I can’t carry her myself.”

“It’s no problem,” George said before Gemma said anything else. “C’mon, Love,” he said, pulling Lucy up from the ground. She groaned quietly as he threw her over his shoulder.

The walk back to the common room was also quiet, with only an occasional groan from Lucy. Fiona assumed Gemma was exhausted, and hoped she assumed the same for herself and George. She didn’t feel like addressing the conversation they just had. Upon their arrival to the common room, George passed Lucy on to Gemma and Fiona, each holding an arm.

“Not coming to bed?” Gemma inquired just before they made up the stairs.

“No, I think I’ll stay up a bit longer,” he said plainly as his eyes darted away from Fiona’s.

Gemma said nothing more and Fiona sighed, both of them making their way towards the stairs. She felt bad for confronting him like she did, but she decided it was necessary. He couldn’t flirt with her while he had a girlfriend, it wasn’t appropriate. Regardless if he had feelings for Fiona or not, it wasn’t okay.

“Did you have fun, Jackson?” a still-intoxicated Katie asked?

“Yeah,” Fiona said as she helped Lucy into the bath. She did truly have a good time, but the sadness lingered. Would she still have George as a friend after tonight?

Chapter Text

She woke to a splitting headache the next morning, shutting her bed curtains tight so that no morning light could leak in. She felt sweaty and stinky, and her makeup nearly crusted eyes shut as she hadn’t washed it off from the night before. Along with her grueling hangover, Fiona felt a heaviness in her chest. She hadn’t yet told anyone about her confrontation with George the night before. When they got back into the dorm, they spent the next few hours nursing and bathing an incredibly wasted Lucy. It wasn’t much help that Katie was still drunk and very giggly. So by the time they put Lucy to bed, all Fiona wanted to do was go straight to sleep.

Eventually, Fiona found it in her best interest to roll out of her bed, straight into the shower, where she could wash off the sweat and alcohol that permeated from her skin. She spent longer than intended in the shower, as it was Katie who knocked, hoping to use the facility next.

When she mozied out of the shower into the dorm, all of her roommates were awake, though Lucy remained completely still in her bed.

“You okay?” Fiona asked as she walked past Lucy’s bed.

“I feel as if I've been hit by a car,” Lucy said, pulling a pillow from underneath her head and covering her face.

“Are yeh going to suffocate yerself, now,” joked Gemma, who was already dressed and ready for the weekend.

“If it’ll stop the headache then sure,” Lucy said flatly. “Oh, god,” she added suddenly, rolling over to pull a bin to vomit into, though nothing came out. “Why can’t I spew?!”” She groaned out of frustration.

“You pretty much got everything out last night,” Gemma said, rolling her eyes.

“Then why don’t I feel better?” Lucy whined rolling back onto her bed.

“You probably need to eat something,” Katie said emerging from the shower. “I’m finished in there. Your turn,” she added as she playfully squeezed Lucy’s toe.”

After Lucy showered, the girls slowly made their way to the great hall. It all felt too loud and too bright for Fiona, but perhaps that was the hangover.

A full English breakfast appeared in front of them and Fiona’s mouth watered at the sight.

“I don’t think I can eat that,” said Lucy, who looked rather green.

“Perhaps some toast then, yea?” said Gemma, who plopped a slab of buttered toast on Lucy’s plate. Lucy nibbled at it slowly, taking very long to swallow each bite.

The girls were amused by Lucy’s dramatics, except for Fiona, who looked around the hall for the Weasleys. But they were nowhere to be found.

Gemma, who sat next to Fiona, leaned over. “They’re in detention, remember?” she whispered.

Fiona played dumb. “Who?”

Gemma looked at her with suspecting eyes. “Come off it,” she said. Fiona laughed nervously, pretending she didn’t have a clue. Gemma opened her mouth like she had more to say, but was interrupted by the arrival of Angelina.

“What a night,” Angelina said, plopping herself down next to Fiona, bags under her eyes like she hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before.

“Definitely,” Fiona replied, pouring her a mug of coffee and sliding it over.

“Did you lot make it back okay? I didn’t see you in the passage?” Angelina said before taking a large swig of the coffee.

“Yeah,” Fiona said, jolted by the memory of her confronting George in the alley way. “We ran into Lucy and Gemma in the tunnel. Lucy was hammered.”

“Ah,” Angelina said as she turned to Lucy. “All that drinking catch up to you, then?”

Lucy nodded with a yawn. She appeared a little less green now, but there was still a mix of it in her undertones.

“Where are the Weasleys?” Angelina asked.

“Detention,” Gemma said.

“I’d hate to be in detention right now,” Fiona said before taking a bite of her sausage. “Being scolded by McGonagall while hungover sounds like a nightmare.”

“Reckon they’re used to it,” Katie said as she poured a bit of cream into her coffee. The girls laughed and tucked into their breakfast, though Lucy only nibbled on her toast. After breakfast, the girls went to go relax in the common room, but Fiona stopped Angelina before they walked through the portrait.

“Angelina, I confronted George last night,” she said quietly.

“About what?”

“About how he’s always flirting with me,” she said. “It’s not cool. Especially since he’s with Alicia.”

Angelina nodded slowly. “How’d he take that?”

“Not well,” she replied, frowning at the memory. “At least I don’t think so. He didn’t talk to me after.” Angelina nodded again. “And, I guess I wanted to tell you because… I know you and Fred like to tease me about it, but I think it’s best if you leave me alone.”

Angelina frowned. “Oh, Jackson, we weren’t trying to make fun of you,” she said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “If anything, we think you’d be perfect for each other."

“But you’re Alicia’s friend too,” Fiona said. “It’s not fair to her.”

“I guess you’re right,” she said, looking down. “I’m sorry.”

“I hope to still have George as a friend.”

“I’m sure you do,” she said with a smile. Angelina put her arm around Fiona’s shoulder and ushered her into the common room “C’mon let’s just relax for a bit and we’ll face that when he gets here,”.

But relaxing was everything Fiona didn’t do. Sitting mindlessly on the red sofa in front of the fire, she couldn’t tell if it was the hangover or the nerves that made her nauseous and sweaty. Each hour that ticked by, she felt worse, jumping at anyone who entered the common room. Finally the redheaded twins walked through the portrait hole, making as much noise as they always do. Fred continued the noise, but George, however, suddenly grew quiet at the sight of Fiona. It was now or never, she told herself.

Fiona joined George and Lee, who sat at the table near the portrait hole.

“Hi,” she said, trying to be casual. George didn’t say anything. Lee, who took notice of the tension, chipped in.

“Hi Jackson! How are you feeling?”

“Pretty hungover. How about yourself?” She replied, looking only at George.

“Pretty lousy,” Lee said.

“Same,” George said, looking at Lee.

“I bet you worked it out over detention,” Fiona joked.

“Yep,” George said plainly.

The tension grew too great for Lee, who awkwardly excused himself from the table, leaving Fiona and George.

“Thanks for last night,” Fiona finally said after a few moments of silence.

“Don’t mention it,” George said as he fiddled with his fingers.

“One of the best birthday’s I’ve ever—“

“No, seriously,” George interrupted, finally looking at her, “Don’t mention it.” Anger darkened his once blue eyes before he too excused himself to join Fred.

Fiona sat, stunned by George’s aggression. One glance at Angelina, and the tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t stay in the common room with everyone, and she couldn’t go up to her room where her roommates were. Impulsively, she booked it for the Library, holding back sobs as she ran through the halls. Thankfully, the library was pretty dead, and she wormed herself into a corner, where she could cry.

Why had he turned on her? she asked herself. It was unlike George. He was truly angry with her, like she had wronged him in some way. But she hadn't... had she?

“You’re alive,” a voice said.

Fiona looked up to find her brother’s silhouette cast in front of the window, the sun rays illuminating only a few of his features.

Fiona squinted up at him. “Hey,” she said, as she wiped away her tears. Apollo sat down beside her.

“I was worried you’d gotten caught the other night,” he said, frowning at the sight of Fiona’s tear-stained cheeks

“No, George and I made it back just fine.” There was a timbre of bitterness in her voice, enough that she couldn’t hide it.

Apollo scowled. “Everything okay with that?” He asked.

Fiona grew quiet, biting her lip so as not to cry again. “I don’t know,” she finally said.

“What happened?” he asked as he sat next to him.

“Long story,” she said, wiping a rogue tear that fell down her cheek.

“I’ve got all day,” he replied with a flat smile.

She sighed before filling her brother in on what had happened; that she’d confronted George and in turn had lost a friend.

“What a jerk,” Apollo replied.

“Don’t say that,” she said quickly. Of course, she’d thought the same thing, but it felt wrong to say out loud.

“No, it’s true,” he pressed. “If not a jerk, then a coward.”

Fiona didn’t say anything else. She sniffed, fingering the pages of a random book she’d pulled off the shelves.

Apollo shifted uncomfortably, aware of the atmospheric change. “Is there anything I can do? He finally said.

Fiona shook her head. “But thank you.”

Apollo smiled, giving her hand a light supportive pat before leaving her alone again in the library. Finally she was alone with her thoughts. She had been nothing but kind to George. So why had he reacted the way he did? Was it because he’d been caught in the act? Humbled? Fiona wasn’t sure. If George wasn’t her friend anymore, she at least hoped Fred and Ange were. She tried to remember that she was certainly still friends with everyone else, however she still felt very alone.

Chapter Text

DADA had been tougher than usual. Moody seemed… moodier. His temper was shorter, and Fiona found most of her time in class being yelled at. After a grueling lesson, Fiona tried to leave the classroom as quickly as possible, but was stopped by her brother.

“So are you still friends with him?” he asked, walking alongside her. It had been a couple of days since Fiona had confronted George, and since then Fiona had made a point to isolate herself from her friends; skipping meals so as not to interact with George, going to bed early so as not to talk about it with her roommates. It was comforting to Fiona, reminding her of the Ilvermorny days she spent in isolation.

“What’s it to you?” she replied, protectively clutching her books to her chest.

Apollo struggled to keep up. “Well, I mean, you did, like, cry to me about it, so…”

“Very nice, Apollo,” Fiona said sarcastically as she tried to lose him, but he remained on her tail. She didn’t think she’d try to avoid her brother too, but found it uncontrollable, like an impulse.

“So, technically it is my business,” he added as they continued down the hall.

“If you say so,” Fiona said, rolling her eyes, hoping he’d just leave her alone.

“Ow! Okay, Fiona,” Apollo exclaimed, after nearly running over a first year. “I’m trying to talk to you!”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” There was an irritation growing inside her now.

Apollo was quiet for a moment. “So, are you gonna hold a grudge for the rest of your life, or what?”

“Ugh, God Apollo!” Fiona scoffed, unable to hold in her anger. She stopped in the middle of the hall to look up at him, the sea of students swimming around them. “Am I not allowed to be pissed off for once?”

Apollo looked down at his shoes. “Well technically no, but–”

“But what?” she asked impatiently. Why was he always so weird about her being upset? The rare occasions she showed these negative emotions, he was always so detestant of it.

“But I don’t think you should be ruminating like you are!” Apollo said, his gaze returning to hers.

Fiona frowned, her anger boiling over. “You know what I think?” she said stepping closer to Apollo. “I think you’re so miserable here that you’ve been vicariously living through me and my happiness, and the one moment you’re unable to milk my happiness from me it’s suddenly my problem! And I’m sorry you’re miserable, and that the one blonde bimbo you’re in love with doesn’t love you back–”

“Hey, Fleur is not a bimbo.”

“But that’s life! It’s time to find your own happiness.” Fiona stormed towards the common room before she could hear Apollo could say anything more. And she would’ve, as everyone else in the hall had grown as quiet as Apollo.

“Hey, Jackson!” Angelina said to Fiona, who stomped through the portrait hole.

“Hey,” Fiona replied gruffly.

“You alright?” she asked, a look of concern in her eye.

“Apollo,” she huffed as she sat down on the couch.

“Right,” Angelina said warily as she sat next to her. They sat together in silence for a moment before changing the subject. “We’re planning Weasley's birthday party. We’re thinking live music at Hog’s Head. What do you think?”

“Sure,” she said plainly. She just wanted to be alone again.

“Erm… okay,” Angelina replied quietly.

Silence hung over them again, and Angelina wouldn’t leave. “I have to study,” Fiona said, grabbing her bag and heading towards the stairs to her dorm. Angelina said nothing, watching Fiona up the stairs.

–

“Harry! Harry!” a voice cried over the overwhelming sound of screams and yells.

“He’s back–” another voice shuddered, though the rest was distorted and muffled. Fiona tried to push through the crowd that swarmed in the center of the field, but no one would budge.

“Dumbledore - he’s dead!” a third voice shrieked from behind her.

When she turned to see who spoke, she became immersed in the darkness until it faded into a beautiful meadow, with yellow flowers and bumblebees. But everything seemed strange. Fiona assumed it must be dusk, but the flowers in the meadow shimmered in a light that almost looked metallic. Fiona looked up to see if a cloud was in the way of the sun, and found herself looking at a total solar eclipse. Fiona stared at it for only a moment before it fell out of the sky, shrinking so it fit into the palm of her hand. The tiny sun illuminated for only a moment more before it turned into a grotesque eyeball. Fiona wanted to drop it into the grass, but she remained paralyzed, staring into the cornea that whispered words of a thousand tongues. The words swam in her head as she tried to make it out. Malus. Malus. Malus. Reditus. Reditus. Malus Reditus.

“MALUS REDITUS”

Fiona woke when she hit the ground. She must have fallen out of bed.

“Ow,” she moaned as she rubbed her elbow. She could hear her roommates stirring in their own beds but it didn’t seem that she woke anyone by her fall. Fiona stood slowly in an attempt to find her bearings again. She felt that going back into her bed with drawn curtains would be too suffocating, so she grabbed her night robe and made for the common room. Fiona recalled her dream as she sat in front of the fire. It was one of the stranger ones she’d had in a while. When she was younger she’d often have frequent nightmares. Though, the scarier part was that sometimes they came true. Like the one about her aunt getting into a car accident. Like the one about the death of her grandmother. Like the one about her brother breaking open his chin and needing 3 stitches. But they didn’t always come true. That was the annoying part. She could never tell if her dream was a premonition or just a dream. Fiona often attempted to dismiss all her nightmares for fear of ruminating on an event that may never happen. But something felt… off about this one. While anyone could have that dream and become fearful, that was the one feeling Fiona didn’t have while in it: fear. She sighed. It was all too confusing. She decided to write down everything about her dream before it faded away, and to take it to Professor Trelawney the next day. Maybe she could guide her.

“Professor,” Fiona called through the crowd of students leaving their divination class. Trelawney had just completed their lesson on Numerology, and Fiona wanted nothing more than to talk to her.

“Yes, my dear girl,” Trelawney replied, bumping into her desk chair.

“How can you tell the difference between a premonition and a dream?”

“All dreams have meaning,” Trelawney said, mindlessly combing her fingers through the fringe at the ends of her waist scarf.

“Well yes,” Fiona nodded, “all dreams have meaning and often symbolize whatever’s currently happening in your life…” Trelawney suddenly became distracted, wandering to look out the window. “...but some dreams predict the future.”

“One could say all dreams predict the future,” Trelawney said as she squinted out the window.

“Then how do you explain that some of my dreams come true and others don’t? How could I tell the difference between what’s just a dream and what’s to come?”

Trelawney’s gaze suddenly snapped to Fiona’s. “You’ve seen something, have you?” Fiona nodded. “Tell me,” she added before sitting at her desk to write down the contents of the dream. Fiona recapitulated what happened. The screams of return, of death, Dumbledore, Harry, the meadow, the eclipse–

Trelawney’s head snapped up as she stopped writing. “An omen.”

“The meadow?”

“The eclipse,” she said, placing her fingers on her lips in thought. “An omen of death.”

Fiona paused, waiting to hear if Trelawney had more to say, but she only waved her hand, beckoning her to continue.

“Right, uhh,” Fiona said, picking up where she left off: the meadow, the eclipse, the eyeball, the final words, Malus Reditus.

“Malus Reditus?” Trelawney questioned. Fiona only shrugged, unsure of what it could mean. “Latin.” She stood suddenly, leaving her in the dust as she made for her bookshelf. “I know mal is bad in latin but, malus?” Fiona didn’t respond as she didn’t know if Trelawney was speaking to her or herself. Often the latter. “Malus,” the professor began again, looking at Fiona. “Evil.” “Reditus,” she returned to her book, “return.” “Evil returns.”

“But that could mean anything,” Fiona groaned.

“Precisely,” Trelawney said, throwing her book on the students' table. She came close to Fiona. Almost too close. “But how lucky you are to receive a message so clear! ‘Malus reditus’, the eclipse. Those are very clear.”

“I still don’t know who will die!” Fiona said anxiously.

Trelawney frowned in thought. “Remind me of who was in your dream?”

“Dumbledore and Harry Potter, though I couldn’t see Harry. I only heard his name.”

“Hmmm,” Trelawney paced. “I wouldn’t put death past either of those two, but I doubt the spirits would give you a message THAT clear.”

“Professor, I don’t want anyone to die,” Fiona replied, feeling suddenly very scared.

“Oh my dear girl,” Trelawney comforted with a pathetic pat on Fiona’s shoulder. “We don’t know for certain that anyone will die. For all we know it could be an ego death.”

“Ego death?”

“Yes, the shedding of the old, and the bringing in of the new.” Fiona nodded, hoping that would be true. “However, the spirits are finicky with their messages. Oftentimes the things that are the most evident within a message, are not the messages in itself.”

Fiona frowned, feeling even more confused. “Okay…” she said, scratching the back of her head.

“My dear,” Trelawney began again with another pathetic shoulder pat, “you are worried that Harry could be the one who dies, but it’s important to note both him and Dumbledore were both very much alive in your dream. No, it’s not them who will die, but the answer to your concern is in your dream.”

“So, someone will die,” Fiona recapitulated.

“Whether symbolically or literally, I’m afraid so,” Trelawney said.

Fiona left the classroom and moseyed the halls, feeling as though nothing had really been resolved. It was good to know Harry and Dumbledore weren’t the victims, but she’d hoped to find out who it could be in hopes of stopping it. But fate was fated, no matter how much she didn’t want it to be. Someone would die, and now all she had to do was wait to find out who. She realized she probably shouldn’t have gone to Trelawney, who only exacerbated her fears. She wanted help with this vision she had had but didn’t want to spark hysteria by asking her friends. She hadn’t really spoken to them anyway. Fiona decided it would be best to talk to Apollo about it. He had been hard to find since her outburst, but he was the only one who could help her. She scratched her head as she mulled over all the places Apollo could be when her charm bracelet got stuck in her curly hair. After she freed it, the realization hit her. She could find anyone with the charm! She whispered to the locket, asking for Apollo’s whereabouts.

“Apollo is in the restricted section of the Library,” it whispered back.

Fiona B-lined it for the Library, unsure of what to say, but nonetheless she needed to say something. This was serious.

There he was, wandering the restricted section, a few books under his arms.

“Apollo,” Fiona whispered. He turned his head at the announcement of his name and paused as he took in the sight of Fiona. Shifting the books under his arm, Apollo started towards his sister, but didn’t stop, walking right past her. Fiona grabbed his arm before he was gone. “I need to talk to you,” she said.

Apollo looked down at her hand with his icy blue eyes before returning to her own brown eyes. “Ardeat,” he chanted, and at once Fiona’s hand burned like it wasn’t his arm she was holding, but a hot pan fresh out of the oven.

“Ow!” she yelped as she let him go, shaking her hand in an attempt to cool it down. “Since when did you learn wandless magic?”

Apollo stopped before leaving the restricted section. “Well, I guess you could say ‘having no friends’ provides me a ton of free time to learn stuff like that.”

Fiona paused, trying hard to hide that her hand still burned. “I’m sorry I said that. I didn’t mean it,” she said finally.

“Yes, you did,” Apollo replied, his eyes darting away from hers. “But thanks for the apology. Subsidio.”

At once, the burning sensation stopped. “I need to talk to you,” she said as she wiped the residual sweat from her palm on her robe.

“Figured,” Apollo replied. Fiona stepped forward slowly, worried he’d try to take off again, or worse, cast another jinx.

“Walk with me again,” she said quietly, worried how he’d respond.

“Ona, we haven’t done that since we were like 10,” Apollo replied, setting his books down on the table.

“I know but this time it’s serious,” Fiona said, stepping forward again.

“How serious?” he asked, an eyebrow cocked in suspicion.

“I need you to help me decipher a dream I had.”

Apollo frowned. “This isn’t for your lame divination course is it?”

“No,” Fiona said, “But I’m worried my dream could be a premonition.”

Apollo rolled his eyes and picked up his books. “If it doesn’t include me winning a million dollars, then I don’t want to help,” he added before walking away.

“Apollo!” Fiona called after him despite Madame Pince shushing her. Apollo didn’t stop, he worked hard to make his way out of the library as fast as possible. Fiona didn’t dare try to stop him again after the jinx he laid on her. Instead she tried something she hadn’t done in ages. She projected herself to him. “Apollo,” she said in her mind’s eye, “someone is going to die.” It seemed to have worked as Apollo stopped just before he left the library, turning slowly to face her.

While Apollo tried hard to play off divination as some hocus pocus, deep down Fiona knew that he couldn’t. Not after they would walk together in their dreams as kids and remember every detail once they woke up. And not after Fiona predicted the death of their grandmother, or the car accident of their aunt, or the moment he busted his chin open.

Though they were at opposite ends of the library, Fiona heard Apollo’s voice like he was standing right next to her. “Meet me in the court yard.” Fiona didn’t hesitate, in fact she practically ran to the courtyard where her brother sat in one of the side-aisle archways. “Who’s going to die?” he asked, still not looking at her.

“I don’t know,” Fiona admitted, “that’s what I need help with.” Apollo sighed and scratched the back of his head. “I need you to walk with me tonight. To revisit my dream.”

“What time?” Apollo asked.

“Ten o’clock?” Fiona offered, looking up at him. His face was like stone and she wished she knew what he was thinking. But he wouldn’t even look at her.

“Okay,” Apollo said before hopping off the arch way and walking across the court yard. Fiona watched him leave. She was sure to get in bed early that night, showering and lighting a candle by her bed. A bit of witchcraft never hurt a night of astral projection. She wished her roommates goodnight before climbing into bed and checking the clock. Only a few more minutes. She really hoped Apollo would be there as she didn’t want to revisit the dream alone. Fiona closed the bed curtains before laying down and counting down from thirty.

--

Fiona awoke in the darkness. Only a small bit of light allowed her to see that she was in waist-high still water. The water was so still, she thought for a moment she was swimming in a liquid mirror, but she felt weightless though her feet touched the ground.

“Apollo,” she whispered, hoping he would make an appearance. She suddenly heard a splash from behind her, and she turned to find her brother. “Apollo,” she said again.

He turned, relaxing at the sight of her. “Thank god,” he said as he worked his way towards her, “I thought I’d gone to the wrong place. This place is so different from where we used to go.”

“I know,” Fiona said, taking his hand. “We’re going some place scarier. Are you ready?”

Apollo nodded slowly. Fiona closed her eyes as she felt the room around her change. It grew warmer, and more humid.

“Harry! Harry!” a voice cried over the overwhelming sound of screams and yells. Fiona opened her eyes again, realizing she was back in her dream.

“Okay,” she said. “This is it.”

“Don’t let go of my hand,” Apollo said.

“He’s back–” another voice shuddered, though the rest was distorted and muffled. Fiona tried to push through the crowd that swarmed in the center of the field, but Apollo pulled her back.

“Ona, we’re here to find clues, we can’t do the same things you did before. Look!” he said pointing into the distance. Fiona looked up to see the silhouette of Hogwarts, its windows lit with golden light. Above the castle twinkled two very bright stars. “Venus is squaring Mars right above Hogwarts. Remember that.”

“Dumbledore - he’s dead!” a third voice shrieked from behind.

When they turned to see who spoke, they became immersed in the darkness until it faded into a beautiful meadow, with yellow flowers and bumblebees.

“Okay, this is where things get weird,” Fiona said.

Just as before, everything seemed strange. The flowers in the meadow still shimmered in a light that almost looked metallic. Fiona pointed to the sky. The total solar eclipse still burned, and Fiona instinctively held her hand out. As before, the eclipse shrunk and fell into the palm of her hand.

“Woah,” Apollo said.

“Just wait, it gets weirder,” Fiona added. The tiny sun illuminated for only a moment more before it turned into the grotesque eyeball.

“I’ve seen that,” Apollo said suddenly. “Where have I seen that?”

The voices began to emerge from the eyeball. The words swam in her head again as she tried to tune it out. Malus. Malus. Malus. Reditus. Reditus. Malus Reditus.

“MALUS REDITUS”

Darkness fell over her before Fiona realized she was back in her bed.

“Damn,” she whispered, annoyed that she was unable to stay in her projection with Apollo. Afterall, it had been some time since she’d walked with him, so she was just glad he was able to see her dream.

But still, her questions remained unanswered. All that she knew was that Venus would square Mars over Hogwarts. Maybe now she could figure out when it was happening, but she still didn’t know how. Fiona peered through her bed curtain to see what the time was. Six AM. Funny how time worked in her dreams. She felt she had been there for maybe only a minute, but found that actually it was hours. She tried to get another hour of shut eye before she really needed to wake up, but found no luck, she was too anxious. Instead, she crawled out of bed, throwing on her robes, and making for the Great Hall. Breakfast would certainly be served, and perhaps Apollo would be down there too.

The great hall was completely empty except for herself. She sat down at the table where a plate of jam and bread suddenly appeared.

“No coffee?” she questioned. It was the one thing she absolutely needed to get through the day. She’d felt like she barely slept. Without delay a mug and pot of coffee appeared on the table. “Thank you, sweet Jesus,” she murmured thankfully.

Twenty minutes or so passed, and a few other students had also wandered in, but no Apollo. The coffee had been no help and she was starting to get sleepy. Maybe shutting her eyes for a few minutes wouldn’t hurt…

“Jackson.” Fiona jumped awake, her neck sore from the position she had fallen asleep in at the table. “You okay?” George asked.

Fiona rubbed her neck. “Yeah, didn’t sleep well last night,” she responded before she realized who it was. She looked up at George who stood awkwardly, his hands in the pockets of his robes.

“Well,” George added as he sat down, “we’ll have to pump you with coffee if that’s what it’ll take for you to stay awake tonight…”

“Tonight?” Fiona asked. She was still coming to and not much was making sense. Why was he suddenly talking to her?

“It’s our birthday.”

She sat up, finally awake. “Oh,” she said, unsure of how enthused to be about the news. “Happy Birthday.”

“Thanks,” George said without looking at her. This is how it had been since George was stern with her in the common room. Fiona would say something, George would grunt in reply; or George would say something, Fiona grunting in reply.

Silence hung over them for a moment more before Fiona found the courage to say something. “I heard there’s a plan for tonight.”

“Yeah,” George said after sipping his tea. “We’re going out to Hog’s Head. Local band’s playing.”

“Right,” Fiona said. She wasn’t sure if that was an invitation. “Well, you guys have fun.”

George looked up. “You’re not coming?”

“Can’t,” she replied as she wrapped a scone in a napkin to eat throughout the day. “I have to study.”

“Don’t be stubborn, Jackson,” he said with a frown. “You’re invited.”

This shocked her in a pleasant way, yet a bitterness still clung to her tongue. “I assumed it would’ve been a double date thing. You know, Fred and Angelina, you and Alicia.” The bitterness had made its way into the air as George scoffed at Fiona’s reply.

“Fine, suit yourself,” he said as he collected his things. “But everyone will be there, including your roommates. So if you don’t want to be all by yourself tonight, you should come.”

“I prefer solitude,” she retorted.

“Whatever,” he replied before rolling his eyes and walking away.

Fiona sighed, rubbing her neck that still ached. She couldn’t believe George would be at all shocked with how she reacted. After all, he was the one that ended the friendship…

“We should talk,” a voice spoke in her mind’s eye. Fiona looked up. Apollo sat at the Ravenclaw table looking right at her. Without hesitation she stood making for the courtyard where Apollo soon met her afterwards.

“I think I may have figured the dream out,” he said in a low voice.

“Go on,” Fiona replied, matching his tone.

“It’s Mad-eye.”

“Moody?”

“Who else, Fiona?” Apollo replied, shaking his head. “It was clear in the dream. The eclipse turned into an eye… Trelawney said herself that it was an omen of death. And it turned into an eyeball–”

“Right,” Fiona said, putting the pieces together.

“Not just any eyeball. Moody’s.”

“When do you think it will happen?”

Apollo pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “We’ll need to go to the astronomy tower to figure that out.”

“We should tell Dumbledore,” Fiona said suddenly.

“You think he’d hear it?”

“I mean, what else are we supposed to do?” Fiona said, her voice rising in its volume. “Just sit on the knowledge that Moody’s going to die?!”

“Shh!” Apollo said quickly, looking around in case anyone else heard. “We don’t need to send the school into a frenzy.”

“Sorry,” Fiona replied, though she didn’t mean it. “What are we gonna do?”

“Right,” Apollo began. “I’ll go to the astronomy tower tonight to see if I can find out when it’s gonna happen. In the meantime, you’ll need to try to arrange a meeting with Dumbledore.”

“Okay,” Fiona replied. “Meet back up tomorrow morning at breakfast?”

“Deal,” Apollo said before departing the courtyard and leaving Fiona alone with her thoughts.

Chapter Text

She wasn’t sure how to go about speaking with Dumbledore. She had maybe seen him a total of three times within the whole year, and he didn’t seem very approachable either times. She knew she needed to ask someone how to get in touch with Dumbledore. She thought about her roommates or Angelina, but she knew she’d question her. This was information she felt confident to keep to herself, so finding someone who could help her without pressing for answers would be ideal. She wasn’t sure of who to ask so she decided to walk around the library. It had become her new “common room” and there was usually someone there to ask questions if needed. Hell, she could even ask Madam Pince if she was desperate enough.

She perused the aisles for a while, looking for a book that caught her eye and hoping to find someone who could help, when she ran into Lee.

“Hiya,” he said with a smile, holding a book on magic gems.

“Oh, hi Lee,” Fiona replied. She wasn’t expecting to see him by himself as he usually accompanied the Weasleys more often than not.

“Can I help you find something?” He asked, his smile never fading.

“I’m just browsing,” Fiona said, returning the smile. “Unless you can help me find wizard fiction…”

“Oh sure,” Lee said, beckoning her to follow him. “I’m a library volunteer! I pretty much know where everything is. Any book you’re looking for in particular?”

Fiona hadn’t thought of that. She only just thought of the “fiction” idea to look less suspicious. “Um, not really… I’ve mostly been reading muggle fiction, so I thought I’d give wizard fiction a try.”

“No problem,” Lee said as he led her into an aisle she’d not yet discovered. “‘The Time Turner’ is a must-read. Don’t know a single wizard who hasn’t read this one!”

“Sweet, I’ll give it a try!” Fiona said, taking the book in her hand. It seemed well-loved, the binding fraying and the pages turning a soft brown.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” Lee asked.

Fiona was about to remark “no” when she realized why she’d come to the library in the first place. “Actually, yes,” she said as she tentatively put the book in her bag. “How would one get in touch with Dumbledore?”

“To speak with?” Lee asked, one hand still holding his book on gems, the other in his pocket. Fiona nodded. “Dunno, really. I’ve never had to go and see him for anything, he’s usually just invited me to his office…”

“Right,” Fiona replied, disappointed in his answer.

“But maybe McGonagall can help?” He added, noticing Fiona’s disappointment. “I reckon she can get in touch with him.” She nodded in reply, adjusting the strap on her bag.

A moment of silence lingered between and Fiona cleared her throat awkwardly. “Thanks again, Lee,” she said before flashing a weak smile and turning away.

“Wait,” Lee said suddenly, holding her arm. Fiona turned back, not expecting the hesitation from Lee. His brown eyes stared at the floor shyly before he spoke again. “Are you coming to the Weasleys’ celebration tonight?”

“Oh,” Fiona replied, surprised by the question. “I’m not sure… I have loads of homework to do and now I need to talk to McGonagall…”

“It’d be a shame if you didn’t…” He started. Fiona frowned in confusion. Why did Lee of all people want her there? They were never really that close. “I just mean– you’re always great fun, Jackson, and there’s an emptiness in the group without you around…”

A sense of guilt quickly snuck in as she realized her absence had not only affected George, but everyone else too. She sighed as she looked around in search of a response. “I’ll try to come… but I really am busy, I wasn’t kidding about that.”

“Oh sure,” Lee replied quickly, adjusting. his tie. “It’s no problem if you’ve already got plans. Just hoped you’d be able to make it, is all.”

“I’ll think about it,” Fiona replied with a forced smile.

Another moment lingered between them, both smiling awkwardly at one another. “Right,” Lee finally spoke, “I should get back to volunteering.”

“Right.”

“See you tonight, Jackson.”

As she left the Library, Fiona admitted to herself her interaction with Lee was not what she expected. Did Lee really miss her, or was he just saying that to be nice? She couldn’t tell and decided ruminating on it wasn’t the answer. The first thing she needed to do was go to McGonagall to request a meeting with Dumbledore. To her luck, the professor was in her office.

“Excuse me, Professor?” Fiona asked timidly as she stepped into her dark office.

McGonagall, who was nose deep in some essays, hardly looked up. “My office hours are closed, Miss Jackson.”

“Forgive me, Professor, it’s urgent.” McGonagall sighed, taking off her reading glasses to look at Fiona. “Do you know if Professor Dumbledore is available for a meeting?”

The older witch scowled slightly. “Why might you need to speak with him?”

Fiona wasn’t sure what to say? She didn’t want to worry her as much as she didn’t want her to think she was full of it. “I fear someone at Hogwarts may be in danger.”

“Who?” McGonagall asked calmly.

“Professor Moody.”

“How might he be in danger?”

Fiona bit her lip. “He’s going to die.”

“What?” McGonagall asked, her brows furrowed together.

“I had a dream that he was going to–”

“Miss Jackson, if you need to decipher a dream, you go to Professor Trelawney, not the headmaster of the school.”

“Forgive me professor, but it wasn’t just a dream.” McGonagall frowned. “Sometimes my dreams are premonitions of the future.” It sounded pathetic coming out of her mouth, and she wanted nothing more than to cringe as it came out. “And not only does it involve Moody, but Harry and Dumbledore too.”

McGonagall stared at her with an unreadable expression. “Harry Potter?”

“Yes.”

The old witch sighed, placing her glasses back on her long nose and returning to her paperwork. “I’m sorry, Miss Jackson, but the headmaster is quite busy and unable to see you at this time. Good day.”

Fiona sighed as she left the professor’s office. What could she do now? Tell Moody herself? If she spoke any more of this dream she feared they may throw her in the looney bin.

She only had one more class to go to, DADA, which made her nervous since Moody would be there. Throughout the lecture, she debated telling Moody, but by the time the class ended, he was in no mood to have a chat. She sighed, collecting her things and making her way up to the Gryffindor tower before Apollo stopped her.

“So bad news,” he said as they walked the halls. “Astronomy tower’s closed…”

“Closed?” Fiona asked.

“Yeah. Apparently some kid named Seamus Finnigan blew up the guardrail by accident. Sinastra and Filch are busy mending it…”

“Great,” she muttered sarcastically. “I supposed I don’t have great news either. McGonagall wouldn’t let me see Dumbledore… I think we’re at a stand still.”

“Damn,” Apollo replied, shifting the strap of his back pack. “I could try talking to Flitwick. Maybe he can get us into a meeting with Dumbledore?”

“You can try, but I wouldn’t keep your hopes up,” Fiona said before giving him a nod and departing for the stairs to Gryffindor Tower.

Being a Friday afternoon, the common room was packed, so Fiona went to her dorm. She wasn’t kidding when she said she had homework. She had a Transfiguration essay due the next week, but in all honesty Fiona felt no ambition to complete it. Instead, she climbed into her bed and pulled out her worn copy of “The Time Turner” and began the first chapter.

“Jackson, you in here?” a voice called from the door. Fiona looked up. The sun had completely set and the only light in the room was from the candle by her bed and the glow from her lit wand. It was Lucy by the door. “Dinner’s almost over, did you want to come?”

“What?” Fiona said, looking at the clock. It was nearly eight. “I didn’t realize I had been reading for that long…”

“What book?” Lucy asked as she stepped forward.

“The Time Turner,” Fiona replied as she placed her bookmark in the crook of the book. “Lee recommended it.”

“I’ve heard of that one,” Lucy said with a wary smile. Silence lingered between them; it seemed to be doing that with most of her friends lately. “Well, I’m about to go down for dinner if you want to join?”

“No thanks,” Fiona replied quickly. “I’m not really hungry.”

“Okay,” Lucy said quietly before taking one long look at Fiona and making her way back to the common room.

In truth Fiona was hungry, but she didn’t feel like socializing. She opened up her book again, returning to where she had left off. Another hour or so passed before all of her roommates returned, deep in conversation.

“I’ve never heard of them!” Katie said as she pulled off her uniform.

“Oh, they’re bloody brilliant,” Lucy added, closing the door behind her. “Can’t believe they’re playing hogsmeade!”

“I can,” Gemma said as she quietly placed a plate of fish and chips on Fiona’s bed. “There aren’t many places to go playin’ in a band around here.” Fiona looked at Gemma, hoping for some interaction, but Gemma didn’t find Fiona’s gaze. Was the food for me? Fiona asked herself. None of the girls said anything to her, so Fiona quietly brought the plate to her lap and nibbled quietly on her dinner.

The girls continued to chat and change. Fiona assumed this was in preparation for the Weasleys’ birthday.

“Jackson,” Katie finally said. “Will you be joining us tonight?”

“I’m not sure,” She said before taking a bite of a chip. “I’ve loads of homework.”

Lucy hopped onto Fiona’s bed. “We all do,” she said. “Please, just come out with us tonight!”

“Aye,” Gemma said. “It’ll be fun.”

Fiona took a deep breath. “I suppose one night out wouldn’t hurt.”

Lucy squealed with excitement. “I can’t wait!” she said, giving Fiona a squeeze. Fiona reluctantly patted Lucy on the arm but couldn’t help but smile.

Together, the girls got ready in the dorm. It was kind of fun for Fiona, getting dressed and putting on makeup. But it all faded once she made her way to the common room where George was. He was holding Alicia close, and appeared to be whispering sweet nothings to her. She burned red and giggled at whatever he said. Fiona felt like going back to her room then and there, but Lucy had her arm in a grip. She probably feared Fiona would slip away if she could, and Fiona admitted that wasn’t an outlandish assumption.

“Jackson!” Lee said excitedly. “You came?”

“Anything for… the Weasleys’,” she replied before biting her tongue.

“Don’t hurt yourself, Fiona,” Fred said with a grin. Fiona smirked in reply, working hard to avoid George’s gaze.

The group huddled like they had for Fiona’s own birthday, Fred and George going over the rules yet again. Fiona followed the group through the castle halls then through the secret passage. Everyone seemed to be buzzing with excitement, except for Fiona, who kept quietly to herself. That was until Lee slowed up with her.

“So Lucy said you were nose-deep in the book I gave you,” he said with an honest smile.

“Yeah,” Fiona replied, flashing a weak grin. “It’s really excellent.”

“How far have you gone?”

“I’m on chapter nine right now,” she said, wrapping her leather coat tightly around herself.

“Oh, just you wait,” he replied excitedly, “chapter ten is wicked.”

The group made its way through the castle and the passage, into the pub where a four-piece band was setting up. Lee ordered drinks for everyone as the band sound checked, sitting himself right next to Fiona, passing her a drink.

“Cheers,” he said, holding out his glass.

“Cheers,” she said, clinking her glass against his before chugging her drink. Light conversation ensued between them as the band started up their set. But after a few drinks and a few songs, their conversation deepened, talking about anything and everything they could. Fiona hadn’t talked this much in days. An hour before, she probably would’ve moved away from Lee to avoid any further friendly discussion, but with the drinks, the music, and the personality she shared the conversation with, Fiona was quite comfortable talking to Lee. In fact, she only talked to Lee. Everyone else was busy dancing and drinking, but Fiona couldn’t remove herself, she was too engaged with him.

“I can’t believe you’ve never read ‘The Lord of the Rings’!” Fiona said as she sipped on her third drink.

“Guilty!” Lee said, playfully surrendering his hands in the air.

“I swear Tolkien was a wizard. If not, then a squib,” she said excitedly. “He’s bloody brilliant.”

Lee laughed heartily at that. “You’re really starting to inherit our accent now.”

Fiona frowned with a smile. “Am not!” she argued.

“Are too!” Lee laughed. “I don’t know a single southerner who uses ‘bloody’ in their vocabulary!”

“Lee, you don’t know a single southerner, period,” Fiona giggled.

“I know you!”

“Touche!”

Part of her felt guilty for not getting to know Lee earlier, but she didn’t let that cloud the conversation she was having now. She took him in for the first time; his dreads just barely fell over his eyes, and his smile was one of the more gorgeous ones Fiona had ever seen.

“Lee,” she found herself saying, “do you want to dance?”

“Absolutely,” he said, flashing his beautiful grin. Fiona took his hand and together they made their way to the floor just in front of the band. She smiled genuinely as he spun her in and out to the lively music that the band played. Eventually the song ended and the band started up another slow one. Lee and Fiona stood there awkwardly before he took her in again, holding her close and swaying side to side. Fiona danced in his arms for only a moment before she pulled back, looking into his dark chocolate eyes and planting a long kiss on his soft lips. She didn’t know if it was the alcohol, the overwhelming need for human touch, the confusion she felt for George, or because she truly liked him. But it didn’t matter. All she knew was that she wanted to kiss him at that moment. And clearly, he had wanted to kiss her. After a moment, Lee snuck his hand in hers and pulled her to the back alley where they continued to kiss. And kiss. And kiss...

They pulled apart only when Angelina joined them outside and cleared her throat. “We’re about to head back, you two.”

Fiona, who burned a bright shade of red, unwrapped her arms from around Lee’s neck, and adjusted herself. “Right,” she said. “We’re coming.”

Lee moved his hands from her waist, gazing at her intensely. Neither knew what to say to one another so Fiona kept it brief.

“We should go,” she whispered before making her way back inside the pub. The band had finished, packing up their things; and the group seemed to be finishing their drinks, pulling on their coats. Fiona caught an angry glance from George as she pulled on her own coat, but she didn’t care. He had no right to be angry with her. Fiona decided walking back with everyone (especially George) would be too uncomfortable, so she walked past the group and made her way back to the Honey Duke’s cellar on her own. The walk through the passage was lonely and cold, but necessary. She knew her friends would question her on her disappearance and her sudden infatuation with Lee, but she didn’t have the answers. She didn’t know what came over her. Desperation most likely.

The minute she made it back to her dorm Fiona fell onto her bed out of exhaustion. She knew this would be the talk of the Gryffindor tower. Not to mention it was her first kiss, but no one else needed to know that…

“Woohoo!!!” Lucy hollered as she walked into the dorm, spinning her scarf in the air like a cowboy and his lariat, “It certainly seemed like Fiona had a good time tonight.”

Fiona groaned. “Don’t embarrass me more!” She said into her pillow.

“No need to be,” Katie said with a grin, “It seems you’ve only caught the ‘Lee-bug’. Happens to everyone eventually…”

Fiona looked up, her mascara smeared onto her cheeks and pillow. “‘Lee-bug’?”

Gemma snickered. “Every girl gets it,” she said as she pulled off her shoes.

“What is it?” Fiona asked.

“An infatuation with Lee,” Katie replied.

Fiona frowned in confusion.

“Let me explain. Afterall I had it the worst.” Lucy said. “At first Lee appears modest and shy, trailing after the Weasleys, but the more you get to know him the more you become obsessed. Not to mention his beauty. You notice it later, and once you do, you’re hooked. You can’t get enough. You just want to…” Lucy struggled to find the words. “You just want to–”

“Eat his face?” Fiona interrupted, only slightly joking.

“Precisely,” Lucy said. “It’s happened to all of us. There’s just something magical about Lee…”

“But,” Fiona began as she sat up, “what if I really do fancy him?” The thought of going out and finding Lee again felt tempting to her.

“Then you do,” Gemma said sincerely.

“I don’t even know how to talk to him after this,” she said, biting her thumb nervously. “I mean, I practically ran away from him.”

“I don’t think he’ll take offense,” Katie said. “Lee’s a good person. So much so we’re all still friends with him after our own cases of the Lee-bug.”

“Fiona,” Gemma said quietly, “Are yeh sure you kissed him because yeh fancy him?” Fiona frowned. “I just mean… George seemed pretty miffed about yeh twos, and considerin’ where George and yeh have been for the last few days, I wonder if…”

“If what?”

“If yeh only kissed Lee to get back at George.”

The dorm grew very quiet. “No,” Fiona finally said. “Only, I don’t think so… I wasn’t thinking about George, really. I just wanted to kiss Lee.”

“You know,” Lucy interrupted, “come to think of it, it’s not just girls who catch the Lee-bug.”

“No?” Katie asked.

“I swear I’ve seen Cormac McClaggin drooling over him before.”

The girls laughed.

Chapter Text

Walking through all the stares in the common room wasn’t the worst of it for Fiona. The worst was not being able to sit with her friends at meals. Her roommates welcomed her with open arms, of course. But the Weasleys…

As expected, George wouldn’t even look at her, but there wasn't even a peep from Fred. And Angelina… Well, she at least acknowledged Fiona’s existence. As for Lee, things were rocky. He clearly wanted to talk to her, but out of respect for his friends, didn’t seek her out. Aside from her roommates, Fiona lost her friends.

By dinner time on Saturday, Fiona found herself leaving the Great Hall in tears. She went straight to the girls bathroom where hardly anyone went. Apparently it was haunted, but that didn’t scare her. She needed to be alone and away from everyone. Curled up in a bathroom stall, Fiona mourned the loss of her friendships. The worst part was that she wasn’t really sure why her friends were so upset with her. George; sure, she could figure that one out. But everyone else? Was it because she’d avoided them all week? Was it because she kissed Lee all night? She didn’t know.

“Do you mind?” a high-pitched voice said.

At once, Fiona stopped crying. “Hello?” she said quietly.

“Yes, you,” the voice said again. “I’m trying to think, and you’re distracting me.”

Fiona slowly stepped out of the stall where she saw the ghost everyone had been talking about. She floated just above the sinks, her hands on her hips, and her round glasses sitting perfectly on her nose.

“I– I’m sorry,” Fiona stuttered. “I’ll just go,” she added as she collected her things from the stall.

The ghost sighed. “Were you crying?” she asked, sounding as if she was forcing herself to care. Fiona assumed the ghost felt guilty, only sniffing in reply. “Don’t tell me it was Pansy Parkinson. I’ve heard dreadful things about that girl. Reminds me of Olive Hornby…”

“No,” Fiona said, “My friends are mad at me and I don’t know why…” She didn’t know why she was confiding in a ghost. Maybe she just needed to confide in someone. Even if they were dead.

“Your friends sound foolish,” the ghost said. “Why be mad at someone and not tell them why? A waste, is what that is.” Fiona smiled only a little as she agreed with the ghost. They were being foolish. “What’s your name?” the ghost asked.

“Fiona.”

“I’m Myrtle.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Fiona before wiping her wet cheeks. “I’m sorry I’m crying for our first meeting.”

Myrtle shrugged. “Usually it’s me that’s crying.” Fiona frowned in confusion. “That’s why those dreadful students call me ‘Moaning’ Myrtle.”

“I’m sorry they call you that,” Fiona said. Myrtle smiled. Fiona wiped her wet cheeks and checked her watch “Curfew is soon so I should go. It was nice meeting you, Myrtle.” Myrtle didn’t say anything as she left. probably grateful I left so she can get back to thinking Fiona thought to herself. Upon her solemn journey back to the Gryffindor Tower, she ran into an unpleasant familiar face.

“Look who it is!” Terence said to his posse. This was the last thing she needed, and Fiona intended to walk right by him. “The American Mudblood, if there ever was such filth.”

“Excuse me?” Fiona said, stopping in her tracks.

“You heard me,” he said with sneer.

“Sorry,” Fiona said with a cunning grin, stepping forward to meet Terence’s gaze. “I don’t think I did.”

“Filth!” he said with an accusatory finger.

Fiona leaned her ear forward. “What?”

“I called you a Mudblood you deaf bitch.”

Fiona stepped back, cocking her head as if she were trying to make out what he said. “Still nothing,” she said as she scratched her head. “Here, let me see if I can help.” Fiona pulled out her wand and pointed it straight at Terence. “Mimblewimble.” Terence opened his mouth to say something more but only an unintelligible noise came out at which Fiona laughed heartily. Terence glanced at his friends worriedly, clutching his throat in hopes of finding his words.

“You’ll pay for that!” another boy said, pulling his wand out and pointing it at Fiona.

“I don’t think I will,” she said, before casting the same curse on Terence’s two cronies. The three boys moaned and groaned, trying to find the words to cast a curse on Fiona, but nothing happened. “Now what is it you Brits like to say? Get lost? No… there’s something more biting than that.” The boys continued to moan, Terence even went as far to put his fingers in his mouth to try and untangle his tongue, “Oh, right. Piss off.” Fiona stormed away in fury. She wasn’t sure what came over her. The only person she’d ever really cursed was her brother. And of all the moments Terence could have picked on her, he picked the worst moment. Seemed to turn out worse for him than it did for her.

The following weeks felt no different to Fiona than before. She still spent most of her time alone, finding nooks and corners to curl up and hide in. Her roommates tried hard to make her feel included. Lucy even tried to have a music-listening session in the common room, but Fiona remained uninterested. In fact, she hardly listened to music. Not since her birthday…

She avoided the Weasleys and Angelina, which didn’t prove too hard as she shared no classes with them. Avoiding Lee and the Library, however, proved harder. She had finished “The Time Turner” along with another book her father sent, and was desperate to return to the library, but was fearful she would run into Lee. Though, she decided to brave it anyway. What were the actual chances she’d run into him? Apparently high…

“Psst, Fiona!” a voice whispered. Fiona looked around as she stood in the history aisle, but no one was around her. “Fiona, in front of you!” Fiona frowned, staring at the bookshelf that was before her. Through the books, she could see a figure on the other side, pulling a book out to get a better view. “Hi,” Lee said with his usual beautiful smile.

“Uh, hi,” she whispered back without one. She wanted nothing more than to run away, but her feet were planted firmly on the ground.

“You alright?” he asked.

“Fine,” she replied, looking to see if anyone was around. She was already a loner. She didn’t need people thinking she had imaginary friends too.

“Look,” Lee said as he nervously scratched his head, “I’m really sorry about everything. I really did enjoy that night.”

Fiona sighed. “If you enjoyed it so much, why are you pretending nothing happened? Why are we whispering to each other through a library book shelf?”

Lee’s smile faded as realization appeared to flood his emotions. This time he sighed. “The Weasleys were pretty upset that I was – er, occupied for most of their party. Apparently we missed the cake and everything.”

“Is that the same reason they’re mad at me?” Fiona asked, placing a hand on her hip, the other still holding the book she pulled.

“Yes – well, definitely Fred. Angelina doesn’t really care, she’s just trying to honor her boyfriend. You know how it is…”

“And George?”

Lee’s mouth twitched as if he had of great importance to say, but all he said was “same as Fred.”

Fiona frowned. “So how come they’ll talk to you and not me?”

“To be fair,” Lee said as he looked around his own aisle, “I am their roommate. It’s a bit hard to not talk to me. But they’re still not… happy with me.”

“Right,” was all Fiona said as she looked down at her shoes. She had hoped talking to Lee would subside her anxieties, but if anything she just felt more anxious.

“Fiona,” he said softly. She looked up at him. “You can fix this.”

“How?” she asked, a little irritated.

Lee smiled again. “Do what you best: Be yourself,” he said before disappearing down his aisle.

—-

“How long before that’s finished?” Asked Lucy, who laid across her bed doing homework.

“Hopefully soon,” Fiona replied, fixated on a red scarf she was knitting. She had been working on it for days after her conversation with Lee. She wasn’t sure what “being herself” meant, but did feel sorry for bailing on the Weasleys’ party. Fiona found that her feelings for him had subsided. Of course, he would always be beautiful to her, but she no longer felt the need to, as she put it, “eat his face.” In hindsight, she wasn’t sure what had come over her that night. An intense sense of loneliness accompanied by an immense amount of alcohol, perhaps.

Her feelings for George also seemed to be on the mend. More than anything, she missed his friendship. The scarf she was knitting was the last of the two she planned for. She hoped to gift these scarves to the Weasleys as part of her apology, and was anxious to finish them. She just wanted her friends back.

Fiona finished the scarves on an early Tuesday morning, and was so eager to gift them she didn’t even change into her school robes before going down to the Great Hall for breakfast. To her disappointment, and in her pajamas, she was the only one there, though it wasn’t long before she spotted at least one red head.

“Fred!” she called as she got up from her seat, the scarf in hand. Fred, who was accompanied by Lee, hesitated at the Great Hall’s entrance. “Fred,” she said again as she came closer, “Can I – uh – talk to you for a second?” Fred nodded, glancing at Lee as if he were dismissing him.

“See you,” Lee said as he looked down at her pink poodle pajama pants, snickering as he passed.

“Fred,” she began, “I just wanted to say that I’m so sorry for what I did at your birthday party.” Fred didn’t move, though he appeared to be listening. “I had been in a foul mood for a while, and that plus the alcohol… I don’t know what came over me. Regardless, I shouldn’t have missed out. I want to give you this scarf as your late birthday gift and to say I’m sorry.”

Fred took the red scarf in his hand, acknowledging the knitted golden “F” Fiona was sure to add. He looked up at her, a smile curling the corner of his mouth. “Thanks, Jackson,” he said finally.

“Are we good?” she asked anxiously?

“We’re good,” Fred smiled, playfully placing his arm around her neck and walking her back to the Gryffindor table. “You’ve got to tell me where you got those pajama bottoms. I’m desperate for a pair!”

The harder part was finding George. Every time she approached him, he would walk away. It was like trying to catch smoke with her bare hands. Whenever she got close to him, he’d wiggle his way out of the confrontation. He seemingly knew where all the hiding spots were too, disappearing as Fiona followed him around the corner. Eventually, she gave up, deciding that there was no point in trying to apologize to George. He clearly didn’t want to hear it.

Chapter Text

“Fiona, please!” cried Katie as she hung onto her arm.

“I’m no good,” Fiona replied, attempting to wiggle away. “I’m telling you, you don’t want my pointers!”

As the end of the year approached, Katie was adamant about getting her team back on the pitch to practice. She was eager to have one of her roommates watch and give pointers. Apparently this was a common routine for Katie, as Gemma and Lucy had no interest in being the person to help.

“I’m sure you are,” Katie said as they entered the common room. “Just this once. And if you really are as bad as you’re making yourself out to be, I’ll never ask you again.”

Fiona sighed, pausing at the stairs to the dormitories. “Fine,” she finally said.

“Great!!” Katie clapped excitedly. “I’ll see you on the pitch in an hour.”

Fiona went to the dorm to grab a coat. Though it was May, the Scottish highlands were still quite cold. Her stomach turned as she made her way to the pitch. A Gryffindor Quidditch practice meant George would likely be there. Things still hadn’t smoothed over. Like before, he avoided her when he could. And when he couldn’t, he said only very little; being sure to keep the conversation very surface level. If anything, it made Fiona uncomfortable. It made her want to avoid her friends again, though she tried hard to resist it.

Fiona made her way into the stands as the Gryffindor team huddled at the center of the pitch. From what she could tell, there was only one redhead at the practice. Whether it was Fred or George, she couldn’t tell. That was until Angelina gave him a great big smooch. That would be Fred, Fiona said to herself. She sat down, wrapping her coat tightly around herself so the bitter chill wouldn’t seep into her bones.

Finally the team soared into the air, some wearing a bright pink ribbon on their brooms to denote the opposing team. Fiona pulled out her notebook, writing as many plays as she could. The team moved so fast that she sometimes was unable to document it. She groaned in frustration when she could hear the team cheer, having been so busy jotting down the plays that she missed the final one.

“I see Katie made you a shorthand,” a voice said from behind.

Fiona craned her next to see George walking down the stands. She quickly looked away, anxious by his presence and unable to answer.

“She’s made all of us do that at some point in time,” George continued, taking a seat near her.

Fiona clicked her pen anxiously, trying to find a reply. Why was he suddenly talking to her? He had done nothing but avoid her for the last few weeks. “How come you’re not playing?” she mumbled.

“Broke my foot.”

When had he done that? Fiona glanced over at his foot that rested on his knee. It looked normal and didn’t appear in a cast or boot.

“Don’t look ‘broke’,” she replied, before glancing back at the pitch. She still wasn’t comfortable around him, but didn’t want to be totally rude.

“I fell off my broom. Madam Pomfrey fixed it, but said I couldn’t play quidditch for at least a week.”

“Bummer,” she replied, writing down a play between Angelina and Katie who soared gracefully through the sky.

Silence lingered between them as they sat in the stands, the dark grey sky only growing darker.

“Jackson,” George said. Fiona stiffened, worried as to what George could possibly say. “I’m sorry.” She turned to look at him, fully this time. He looked tired, his blue eyes cloudy with… what was it, anger? Sadness? Confusion? Fiona couldn’t tell. “I’m sorry for everything. My impulsive anger. Ignoring you. everything.”

Fiona said nothing as she looked down at her shoes, which were lined with mud and wet grass. He was finally able to admit his faults, but in a way, she too felt guilty. “I’m sorry too.”

“For what?” George asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“For bailing on your birthday. It was rude.”

“I can’t really blame you. You were miffed at me,” He said in a low voice.

“And Lee’s a pretty good looking chap,” she quipped. George cracked a smile and Fiona couldn’t help but return one. “Can we be friends again? I mean, like before? You’re with Alicia now. We’re just friends. That’s that.”

“That’s that,” He replied with a flat smile. Her head cleared with relief as she looked at him and for the first time in a while she felt she could finally think straight. Even memories seemed more clear, including one that made her sit up.

“We should shake on it,” she said as she stood and made for him. George looked taken aback, but obliged, taking her hand as she put it out. She pulled him towards her, so that she could place her wand on his shoulder. “Sayonara.”

“Damn!” George said, slapping his palm to his forehead. “I’d almost forgotten about that bloody game.”

“Shame,” she said with a knowing smirk. “So who’s your target?”

“You were,” he said bashfully. “You win, Jackson.”

“Damn right I do,” she said with a grin.

So things were back to normal between Fiona and George, and she was more than grateful for it. He was still with Alicia despite everything, but Fiona didn’t care. She had her friend back, and that was what mattered. But a new piece of gossip swirled the great halls of Hogwarts. Apparently Harry Potter had had a full blown meltdown in his Divination class.

“I heard it was like… an episode,” Lucy remarked in a low voice as they walked from their potions class.

“I thought he said it was a headache,” Gemma added.

“I just hope he’s alright,” Katie said, “Harry’s seen nothing but trouble for the last few years. He could use a break.”

“Ona!” Apollo called from across the hall. Fiona waved her roommates goodbye and met up with her brother. “I know the dates…”

“Okay,” Fiona replied, a little nervous to hear the details. “When is it?”

“Venus squares Mars from June twenty-second to June thirtieth.”

Fiona frowned in disappointment, hoping for an exact date. “Well at least we have a timeframe,” she admitted, wiping her forehead in defeat.

“No, Ona,” Apollo replied with a concerned look. “The last task is on June twenty-fourth…”

“Oh no,” She gasped, her hand covering her mouth, “You don’t think…”

“I do.”

Fiona intended to say more but was interrupted by McGonagall. “There you are!” the old witch said as she approached. “Dumbledore has requested a meeting with you.”

“He has?” Fiona asked.

“Yes. Follow me.” Fiona followed McGonagall, looking back at her brother who gave her a supportive smile.

McGonagall led Fiona to a large statue, chanting “Cockroach Clusters” before a staircase appeared.

“Up you go,” McGonagall said. Fiona hesitated, uncertain of what to expect from a meeting with Dumbledore. Would he be mean? Impatient? Curious?

When Fiona entered his office, she found Dumbledore sitting quietly at his desk. A twinkle in his eye, he spoke. “It’s great to finally meet our new exchange student.”

“It’s great to finally meet our headmaster,” Fiona replied as she approached him slowly.

“How are you liking Hogwarts?” He asked, looking over the glasses at the end of his nose.

“Loving it,” she smiled. Despite the recent drama, she couldn’t deny that she was happier at Hogwarts.

“Oh good,” he said earnestly. A moment lingered before Dumbledore continued. “McGonagall has informed me of your apparent dreams.” Fiona nodded. “Do tell me about them.”

Fiona started at the beginning. How she’s had these dreams since her childhood, how her most recent one revealed real trouble, how her brother walked her dream to help…”

“Somnimency,” said Dumbledore.

“Sorry?” Fiona replied, unsure of what he meant.

“You and your brother participate in Legilimency but in your dreams. Somnimency,” he repeated. “A rare yet incredible form of magic. Often occurring between twins.”

“Oh,” Fiona replied, taken aback. Dumbledore was an odd fellow. “I’d never heard of it.”

“So you believe Professor Moody to be in danger,” Dumbledore continued as he rose from his desk. “What led you to this conclusion?”

“The eclipse, an omen of death… the eye, Moody’s.”

“When do you expect this to occur?”

Fiona swallowed. “June twenty-fourth. The final task of the tournament.”

Dumbledore came forth, waving his arm to beckon a shallow basin that soon appeared from a nook in his office. “Have you seen this before?”

“It’s a pensieve,” Fiona replied, eyeing the runes etched onto the side of the basin. “I’ve read about them.”

“Yes,” Dumbledore said as he approached the pensieve. “So then you must know that it allows me to see memories.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He paused for a moment, waving his wand over the basin as if to awaken it. “If you will allow it, I’d like to have a copy of your dream, so that I may see it for myself.”

“You want my memory?” Fiona asked, lightly touching her temple.

“Only a copy,” he replied with a comforting smile. “I am not nearly as talented as you or your brother, so I’ll need to receive a copy from you.”

“How do I give it to you?”

Dumbledore held up his wand, placing the tip on his temple as he closed his eyes. Pulling the wand away from his temple, he pulled a thin silver line out his head into the pensieve. “Like this.”

Fiona took out her wand, ready to learn the same task.

“Think of only the memory you wish to conjure,” He said. Fiona closed her eyes. “Now, place the wand upon your temple and say to yourself exalto”

It tickled at first, but eventually she was able to withdraw her memory, Dumbledore concealing it with a crystal flask.

“I hope you will no longer feel burdened by this,” he said as he placed the flask on his desk. “But I thank you for speaking with me.” Fiona nodded, confused if she need do or say anything else. “Is there anything else you wish to speak to me about?”

“No,” Fiona finally said.

Dumbledore smiled kindly. “We’ll be in touch.”

Would they? Fiona wasn’t sure. She felt a little unsatisfied with the meeting, hoping he’d at least help her solve the dream. But alas, Dumbledore was no prophet. He was only a headmaster. And even being a headmaster had its limitations.

Chapter Text

“Who is still in need of music?” the petite Professor Flitwick called over the chatty orchestra. It was only a few weeks until the last task, and the winds of the Hogwarts Orchestra were in preparation for it.

Fiona raised her hand as Edmund passed her the music. “Hogwarts March,” she mumbled to herself as she read the title. It looked like a fairly harmless flute part, though it seemed she indeed had the melody.

“Ready?” Flitwick called again from the podium, preparing his white conductor’s baton in the air. “One, two, three, four!”

They began playing and a bouncy, celebratory tune commenced. Fiona thought it was rather goofy sounding, but it was a little reminiscent of the tunes she heard at nomaj football games in the U.S.

After rehearsal, Fiona caught up with Lucy.

“What do you think of the new tune,” Fiona asked as Lucy parked her cello on the stands. String instruments weren’t required to play for this piece, but Lucy took it upon herself to play anyway. Something about her boyfriend being first chair…

“Adorable!” she chuckled. “I just love that piece. We play it at the quidditch finals each year!”

They finished collecting their things and made back for the common room.

“I simply can’t wait for the next task!” Lucy said, jumping excitedly.

Fiona’s stomach dropped as she forced a smile. “Me too!” she lied. It had been weeks since she met with Dumbledore, and he never followed up with her. She tried to convince herself that no news was good news, but there was always that worry that it wouldn’t be.

“Katie and I are thinking of doing face paint,” Lucy said as they turned the corner. “Want to join?”

“Yeah, that could be–”

“No, you don’t get it,” an angry voice interrupted from around the corner. “I’m practically begging for your attention. How pathetic do I have to be?”

Fiona and Lucy stopped in their tracks at the sight of Alicia and George, both in a defiant stance outside the common room.

“Bloody hell, Alicia, how much more attention do you need?” George said, throwing his hands out to the side in exasperation. Alicia frowned, opening her mouth to say something more but stopped at the sight of Fiona and Lucy.

“Blimey! Would you look at the time” said Lucy, who suddenly realized they were outright staring at Alicia and George. She took Fiona’s hand and started to pull past them. “We’re late for that… thing that… Gemma…”

Fiona’s eyes met George’s as they sped passed. He looked away quickly, trying hard not to notice her there.

“Nice cover,” Fiona remarked wryly as Lucy pulled her through the portrait hole.

“What else was I to do?” Lucy argued, throwing her bag down on the cushy chair. “We were staring at them!”

Gemma, who was sitting on the opposite couch, looked up. “Everythin’ alright, Byrne?” she asked.

“We ran into George and Alicia…” Lucy replied cautiously.

Gemma raised her eyebrows knowingly and silently mouthed “Oh” as Lucy and Fiona made themselves comfortable by the fire. “I saw the first half of that argument.”

“Seems they’ve been doing that a lot lately,” Lucy said, shaking her head.

“They’re fighting?” Fiona asked. She had nary a clue about their disputes. As far as she knew, things had been going well between George and Alicia.

Lucy’s eyes widened as she nodded furiously. “Been like that for a few weeks now…”

“That’s too bad,” Fiona replied, but something deep inside of her jumped with excitement. She tried hard to quiet the feeling. It didn’t feel like an appropriate one to have.

Over the next few days, Fiona continued hearing about their fights, and even witnessed a few more at meals, in the halls, outside the common room. It seemed to be the talk of Gryffindor Tower. She’d been so busy trying to prepare for exams that she hadn’t had much time to ask George about it herself. Studying for Potions was becoming especially taxing as Snape had taken it upon himself to assign a three-page essay every class.

At least the weather was growing warmer, and Fiona decided to find a nice sunny spot by a tree to attempt her potions assignment could help.

“Pssst.”

Fiona looked around, curious to find where the noise had come from.

“Up here, Jackson,” a voice said. Fiona looked up into the tree to find George comfortably sitting on a large, low-hanging branch, his back leaning against the trunk.

“The bloody hell are you doing in a tree?” Fiona asked. She was taken aback by her very english verbiage. Maybe Lee was right and her friends were starting to rub off on her.

“‘Can see everything up here,” he said with a grin. “You should join me.”

“No thanks,” Fiona said before returning to her paper. “I like the ground.”

George hopped off the branch, seemingly hurting his foot as he shook it off. Fiona wondered if it hadn’t fully healed. “What are you working on?”

“Potions,” she replied, not looking up from her paper. “Snape’s gone mad it seems. He assigns us a new essay every class.”

George sat down beside her, looking over her shoulder so as to see the assignment. “Draught of Peace,” he said to himself. “Oh, that’s easy, that one.”

“Goodie,” Fiona replied wryly.

“No it is,” George said. “Just think: what was one of the main ingredients you studied this year?”

Fiona thought for a moment as the cool breeze whispered through her hair. “Moonstone?”

“And why is it so important?” He asked with his usual grin.

Fiona thought again, this time looking down at her parchment as she recalled sitting in the potions lecture on moonstone. “Because it can be used for conjuring.”

“There you go, Jackson!” he smiled, giving her a playful nudge. “See? You’re a great potions student.”

“Well you’re a great study partner,” she said as her eyes met his. A weird moment lingered between them before Fiona looked away. “Potions probably comes easy to you and Fred, seeing how you’re starting a whole business with it.” George’s gaze lingered on her for another moment before he too looked away.

“I guess I do have a leg up,” he agreed, looking out onto the Black Lake that glimmered in the distant sunlight.

Another quiet moment hung in the air. Fiona thought about how he had been fighting with Alicia. Curious, she asked him why. He looked at her, a slight frown creasing the skin between his eyebrows.

“That’s not really your business,” he said.

“With how public you two have been about it, I’d say it is,” she quipped.

“No it’s not, really,” he said sternly. The tension lingered and Fiona shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a low voice. “It’s just… It seems serious and I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sur–”

“Yes!” he exclaimed, standing so suddenly Fiona hardly saw him move. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?! I’m fine– We’re fine, there’s nothing wrong!”

Fiona looked up at him, shocked by his outburst “Weasley, I didn’t… I wasn’t…”

He sighed, looking down at his shoes. “I’m late for class,” he said before turning on his heel towards the castle. Fiona watched him go, past the tree he was so happy to be in only moments before. Something was wrong and he definitely wasn’t “fine,” but it didn’t seem she could get the truth out of him.

—--

“Poor Alicia,” Angelina said in a hushed voice at dinner. “They’ve really been having a rough patch.”

“How come?” Fiona found herself asking. “He wont tell me much.”

Angelina sighed as she played with her food. “Apparently George has been ignoring her.” Fiona frowned in concentration, eager for more details. “According to Alicia, he’ll only hangout with her when other people are around. They rarely get alone time. And when she asks, he’s pretty dismissive.”

“Mmm,” Fiona said, sipping her juice. She swallowed, recalling George’s emotional outburst from earlier. “I tried talking to him about it earlier today.”

“And?”

“And he just about blew up at me.”

“I reckon that’s right,” she said gruffly, before taking a sip of her drink.

Fiona checked her watch. She still hadn't finished her essay for Snape and was eager to finish it before it got too late. “I have to go,” she said as she collected her things. “I’ve another page of parchment due before Potions tomorrow.”

“See you!” Angelina said as Fiona made through the halls. She was about halfway to the common room when suddenly, she couldn’t move. Her feet had completely stuck to the ground. She bent down to try and pry them up but they wouldn’t budge.

“Well, well,” a voice said. Fiona looked up to see Terence and his mates approaching. “How the tables have turned. Expelliarmus!” The wand Fiona tried to pull from her pocket had been cast out of her hand. “Don’t think we’re going to let that happen again.”

“Let me go,” she said as she tried to pull her legs up.

“No,” He said, as he stepped forward, his wand still pointed at her. “You see, it took Madam Pomfrey two days to untie our tongues. You need to pay for that.” Terence grabbed the front of her robes, pulling her closer to him, his wand was inches from her throat. “What should we give you? Warts? Maybe we’ll shrivel your ears? The options are endless.”

“Expelliarmus!” another voice called from behind. Terence looked up in fear, throwing Fiona to the ground and knocking the wind out of her. She heard more spells, jinxes, and hexes being cast as she collected herself. Finally the spells subsided, and Fiona felt someone towering over her as she held herself up to cough.

“You okay?” the voice said. Fiona looked up to find George looking at her with both care and wariness, though appearing unsure of what to say.

“Yeah,” she said as she stood, looking only at him. “Thanks for saving me.”

George looked away quickly, seemingly bashful. “You should watch your back. Those prats are bad news,” he said before walking away. Fiona stood stunned in the hallway. What was his problem? Was it because of what happened between them earlier?

“George!” she called after him, grabbing his arm so he couldn’t escape. “I’m sorry.” George said nothing though the look in his eyes said a thousand words. “About Alicia. I didn’t mean to pry, it’s just… I’ve seen you guys arguing a bunch, well everyone has, and I couldn’t– uh– we couldn’t help but overhear…” Realizing she was rambling, she looked up at him, hoping he would say something, anything, but he remained still, his face like stone. Fiona blinked, surprised by his unwillingness to speak. “Right, I guess it’s still not my business… I’ll just go…” she said as she made for Gryffindor Tower. George grabbed her hand, pulling her back into him and planting a tender kiss onto her lips. Her heart raced and her brain swirled as their lips met. She wasn’t entirely sure what was happening until the realization set in. When it did, she surrendered completely. They parted moments later, saying nothing, just looking at each other. Fiona finally found the strength to say something.

“Georg–”

“I have to go,” he said quickly before turning and walking away. Fiona was left alone in the hallway, completely dazed by the events that happened. Had George just kissed her? Did he mean it? Wasn’t he still with Alicia? Her heart still raced and her mind still swirled as she slowly made her way back to the common room where her roommates were.

“Orright, Jackson?” Gemma asked. She, Katie, and Lucy were in the middle of a card game.

“Hmm?” she replied dazedly, slowly making her way to the table.

“Merlin, Fiona, have you seen a ghost?” Katie said.

“Peeves have a go at you?” Lucy joked.

“No,” Fiona said as she sat down. “George… he…”

“Oh yeah,” Katie interrupted, “Is he alright? He walked through here a couple minutes ago! ‘Looked like he’d seen one too…”

Fiona looked at her friends as she finally came to. She wasn’t sure if she could tell them outright what happened. She herself wasn’t even sure of what happened. “Terence,” she began, “He cornered me. Jinxed me so my legs couldn’t move. Was threatening to shrivel my ears or something.”

“That dickhead,” Lucy seethed. “What’d he do that for?”

“Well, I sort of hexed him and his friends the other day?”

“Wot?!” the girls said in unison.

“Tongue-tied them. They wanted payback.”

“So, what about George?” Gemma asked.

“He saved me. Scared them off,” she said.

“Why’d he look so upset, then?” Lucy asked as she looked over at the stairs where he must have excused himself earlier.

Fiona bit her lip and then shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Well, are you alright?” Katie asked.

“Fine,” Fiona shrugged.

She couldn’t sleep at all that night. Every time she closed her eyes she was right back in George’s arms, her lips locked onto his. More than anything she wanted to know why he had kissed her. If it was because he had feelings for her... no, she said to herself. that would be wrong. Fiona covered her head with her pillow. George had cheated on Alicia with her. It wasn’t fair. To either of them. She had wanted him for so long and now…

Fiona groaned, getting out of bed and pulling on her night robe. Tossing and turning wasn’t going to satisfy her brain’s racing thoughts, so she made for the common room. Per usual, the common room was vacant, yet the fire was lit and warm. She sat on the sofa, looking into the fire that seemed to calm her racing thoughts. She pulled in her knees and closed her eyes as she finally felt soothed, but was disturbed by the sound of footsteps. Looking up, she saw the red head she couldn’t get her mind off of. George paused on the stairs at the sight of her. Bloody hell, she thought. After a moment, he continued down the stairs cautiously.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked as he sat down in the chair beside her.

“No,” Fiona said, her gaze returning to the fire.

“Me neither,” he replied.

A few beats of silence passed before Fiona found the courage. “George,” she found herself saying.

“Mm.”

“Why’d you do it?”

He turned to look at her again. “Do what? Save you from those prats?”

“Why’d you kiss me?” She asked, her gaze meeting his. For the first time in a while their eyes were fully locked on one another, uninfluenced by cowardice, disappointment, or tension.

George sighed, his eyes still not leaving hers. The fire reflected an even redder glow on his hair. For a moment, he actually looked like he was burning. “I don’t know.”

“That’s not a good enough answer.”

“Bloody hell, Fiona, what do you want me to say? I don’t know why I kissed you.”

Finally their gaze broke as Fiona looked back at the fire. She remained still, unsure of what to say to George. It wasn’t a good answer, she wasn’t going to deny that. But she couldn’t make him tell her if he didn’t want to.

George sighed again, slowly standing from his chair and starting back towards the dorms. He paused in front of the staircase. “I kissed you because I wanted to,” he said without looking back.

Fiona scoffed at his response. “That’s still not a good enough answer,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re committed to Alicia. That means you can’t go around kissing whoever you’d like.”

He turned around and scowled at her. “I know that,” he said, growing irritated by Fiona’s lecture.

“Well, if you know that, Why’d you kiss me?”

“Because I fancy you!” George blurted. “Well… I did.” Fiona remained silent, her mouth agape, stunned by his confession. He too looked stunned, unable to make out what he had just told her. After a moment of hesitation, he continued. “When Alicia asked me to the ball, it surprised me. I’d planned to ask you but she’s been my mate since we were kids and I didn’t want to hurt her. And then at the ball, after you’d left, we sort of…” Fiona’s heart sank. “After, she’d kept going on like we were together, and I couldn’t turn her down.”

“Jesus, George,” Fiona exasperated. “Do you even fancy her at all?”

“Yes,” he replied confidently. “When I kissed you it was because I needed to know what my feelings for you were.”

“And?” Fiona asked as she looked at her shoes, feeling fed up and heartbroken.

George hesitated. He looked around the dimly lit common room like he was looking for the words to reply with. “Nothing but a silly crush.”

Fiona swallowed hard, feeling the tears begin to well into her eyes. “During all of this,” she began through shudders, “did you ever stop to consider what my feelings were?” George looked at her but said nothing. Anger boiled within her, her voice rising in volume. “Did you ever consider that I fancy you?! Did you ever consider how cruel it was to kiss me for your own investigative needs?”

“Jackson…”

“No!” She blurted, standing so suddenly she almost fell over. “Don’t >Jackson me! You fucked up, George.” Before George could say more, Fiona stormed past him, up the stairs, into her dorm where she crawled back into her bed and silently sobbed.

Chapter Text

LOOK, YOU’RE STANDING ALONE
STANDING ALONE
HOWEVER, I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN
I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN
NEVER BEFORE, NEVER AGAIN
YOU WILL IGNORE, I WILL PRETEND

“Oi!” Gemma shouted, waving her hands to get Fiona’s attention. “Mind turning that down?” Fiona took off her headphones, stretching a guilty smile across her face while the afternoon sun shined on her face through the library window. “Dunno how ye study with it that loud.”

She had taken her Walkman out of hiding, putting it to good use ever since she blew up at George. She wasn’t in the mood to talk to him and, unfortunately, didn’t know of all the hiding places he did. So, resorting to keeping her head down while she drowned out the noise with her music would have to do.

“Ye’ve been listenin’ to music a lot lately,” Gemma continued as she scribbled something down on her homemade study guide.

Fiona shrugged. “Is that abnormal for me?”

Gemma nodded as she considered Fiona’s question, her braids bobbing. “I suppose not… Still something’s up with ye.”

“I’m fine,” Fiona said casually.

“Then there’s nothing going on between ye and George then?”

Fiona looked up at Gemma, her eyes wide. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gemma smirked. “I saw the little moment ye had in the hallway the other night.”

“You haven’t told anyone, have you?” Fiona asked quickly. The last thing she needed was for people to find out about that. Gemma chuckled once before she shook her head. Fiona sighed with relief, returning to her homework. “It’s not what you think, you know…”

“Int it?” She responded. “I mean, it looked like a nip to me.”

“A ‘nip’?”

“A kiss.”

Fiona bit her lip. “It was. But he kissed me. I just happened to be there. Besides, I chewed him out in the common room later that night.”

“‘Chewed him’?”

“Yelled at him.”

“Oh,” Gemma said as she nodded slowly. “What’d ye say?”

“I asked him why he kissed me.”

“And what’d he say?”

Fiona sighed again, nervously clicking her pen. “At first he said he didn’t know why. Then he said he used to fancy me and he wanted to explore if those feelings were still there, which he very bluntly informed me that they’re not.”

“Does he know that that’s still considered cheatin’?” Gemma said, a frown of disbelief flashing across her face.

“He does now. I was sure to educate him on that.”

“Sounds like he’s acting like an erse,” Gemma scoffed. “Will you tell Alicia?”

“I don’t know,” Fiona said honestly. “I don’t want her to hate me.” And suddenly, after a hard swallow, tears began to fill her eyes.

“Fiona?” Gemma asked, noticing the tears falling onto her textbook.

“What do I do?” Fiona whispered through her silent sobs.

“Oh, hen,” Gemma said, scooting closer to Fiona so she could comfort her. “It’s goin’ to be orright. It is.”

Fiona wiped her wet cheeks, a pang of anger rising inside. “I’m just tired of crying over him. Why can’t he just… behave?”

“Is there anything I can do?” Gemma asked.

“No,” she replied as stood, gathering her textbooks and throwing them in her bag. She had become suddenly embarrassed. Crying over a boy in front of Gemma was not on her Hogwarts bucket list. “I need to shower.” Before Gemma could say anything else, Fiona left the Library.

She was hoping to go unnoticed in the halls as the tears still streamed down her face, but to her dismay she ran right into her sixth year friends.

“Jackson!” Angelina chirped. Fiona looked up warily, glaring right at George who looked away quickly. She said nothing as she passed, which seemed to concern Angelina who came running right after her. “Hey!” she called as she intercepted her. “Everything alright?”

Fiona tried hard not to look up, but in her attempt to avoid Angelina’s gaze, she met George’s. Struck with anger, she turned to look right at Angelina. “Ask George,” she said bitterly. Fiona left Angelina there, looking stunned while the cogs in her mind spun. She didn’t know if George would confess to Angelina. If not, Fiona at least hoped that she could figure it out on her own. If anyone could get to George, it could be Angelina.

And it was Angelina who bust down the door of her dormitory later that evening.

“C’mon!” she said as she ripped open Fiona’s bed curtains.

Fiona rolled over, her eyes burning from the light that flooded into her poster bed. “What the hell…”

“Up! All of you!” Angelina continued, clapping her hands to awake Fiona’s other roommates.

“Ugh, Johnson,” Gemma said as she checked the clock. “It’s nearly eleven at night!”

“Right it is! Get up!”

“Angelina,” Lucy croaked as she rubbed her eyes. She too was just barely asleep. “Mind telling us what’s going on?”

“We’re going out,” she said with a grin.

“Out?” the girls asked.

“Out, she repeated. “Get dressed!” She ordered. “Something fit.”

The girls sleepily and reluctantly got ready as Angelina helped pick out what to wear. Once they were ready, Angelina led them down the stairs, through the common room and the castle. The curfew was passed so they were diligent to be as quiet as a mischief of mice.

“Johnson,” Katie whispered. “Can you tell us what this is about?”

“Not yet,” Angelina replied, as she ushered them near the great entrance. She led them straight to the One-Eyed-Witch, where she chanted “dissendium,” ushering them down into the passage.

“Alright,” Lucy said, a little louder now that they were in the passage. “Let’s hear it.”

“We’re having a girl’s night!” Angelina chanted excitedly. The girls gave each other worried glances. “There’s a band playing at the Hogs Head! Anyway, I figured we could use a fun night out.” Angelina didn’t pause to hear their rebuttal or refusal, continuing straight down the passage.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Katie asked as she followed.

Angelina stopped again. “Some of us,” she began as she glanced at Fiona, “Have had a rough couple months. I figured it would be nice for us to just get out. You know, catch our breath.”

The girls all looked at Fiona, who returned a worried gaze. It seemed Angelina was able to get the truth out of George. Gemma already knew of course, but she hadn’t let Katie or Lucy in on what happened.

“Wot’s happened?” Katie asked as they began walking.

Fiona bit her lip, hesitant to tell her and Lucy what happened. “George sort of… Kissed me.”

Lucy gasped. “No!” she said in disbelief.

“Et’s true, I saw et,” Gemma confirmed.

“And you didn’t tell us?!” Lucy exclaimed.

Gemma frowned. “Et’s not really my business to tell.”

“When did this happen?” asked Katie.

“Last week,” Fiona said, trying hard to suppress the memory that worked desperately to surface. She filled her roommates in on the rest as they walked the long passage; how she’d blown up at George and how they weren’t talking yet again.

“That’s completely mental,” Katie said, her eyes wide in shock.

“That’s why we’re going out tonight,” Angelina added. “I think it’s well deserved, don’t you?”

“Definitely,” Lucy agreed before they pulled themselves out of the passage into Honey Duke’s cellar.

Hogs Head was decently packed. It seemed to be a well liked band as so many locals were at the pub. The girls drank their fire whiskeys and danced to the jangly tunes that the band played. Fiona greatly enjoyed herself the whole night. Not once did the thought of George even pop into her mind. When it did, she was back in her dorm and in the moment she found that she didn’t care. Maybe it was the side effect of the alcohol, but no ounce of anger, guilt, or sadness echoed inside her head. She felt she simply didn’t care about it all.

The next days that followed felt fairly tame to Fiona. She saw George occasionally, but it didn’t feel awkward. She still didn’t care. After all, he had told her that he had no feelings for her. She could do nothing but move on from the situation, which she felt confident in doing. Even after learning that George and Alicia had officially ended things.

Fiona first heard of the news at breakfast one morning, when Angelina came into the great hall looking tired and disheveled.

“Orright, Johnson,” Gemma asked as she looked up from her porridge

“Yeah,” she replied as she served herself an english muffin. “George and Alicia broke things off yesterday. Was up with her all night just trying to console her.”

“Oh, no,” Lucy said, a look of disappointment flashing across her face. Fiona remained silent. She hadn’t expected them to actually break things off so soon. She reflected on if the news affected her in any way. It didn’t. The only thing she felt was sorry for Alicia. As for George, well, she admitted she could see it coming.

After the breakup, things remained cordial between her and George. She wasn’t going to go out of her way and be “buddy-buddy” with him. He had still hurt her in some way. But a full-blown grudge wasn’t part of her plan.

“Right,” Fred said suddenly as he took the last bite of his breakfast. The great hall was packed with students who prepared to participate in the last Hogsmeade weekend before the end of the year. “Anyone care for a butterbeer?”

“We’ve just eaten,” Angelina said, a confused expression flashing across her face.

“It’s the last chance we get before we’re shut in for the task and finals!” He replied defiantly.

“Sounds perfect to me,” George remarked with a grin.

“Only if we can stop at Zonko’s,” added Lee.

“What could you possibly need that we don’t have?” George asked, his grin remaining though a frown wrinkled the skin between his brows.

“Nothing,” Lee replied, staring into his coffee. “But Zonko’s doesn’t charge half as much as you do.”

Fred scoffed, suddenly offended. “Well, excuse me!” He said. “May I remind you that we’re starting from nothing! We have to make a bang for our buck.”

“Well as long as you’re charging what you are, I’m going to Zonko’s.”

So, much to the Weasleys’ chagrin, Fiona and her sixth year friends stop at Zonkos before they got to the Three Broomsticks. Fiona decided purchasing a few things wouldn’t be so bad either, buying dungbombs just in case Terence Higgs and his loser friends tried anything again.

As usual, the Three Broomsticks was packed with students, celebrating the last free moments before it was time to hunker down and study. They were able to find a spot in the back corner where Fred brought them all drinks.

“So!” he said as he sat down. “Which exam are you lot least looking forward to?”

“The Transfiguration’s NEWT might kill me,” Angelina said as she pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

“Astronomy,” George said with raised eyebrows before taking a sip of his drink.

“Same for me,” Lee added. “What about you, Jackson?”

“Potions,” she said with a grimace. “I’m no good.”

“Rubbish,” George said quickly. Fiona looked at him. He was looking right at her, no hesitation in his gaze. “You’re brilliant. Snape doesn’t know what’s coming.”

Fiona burned bright red, stunned by the sudden attention provided by George. It was the most he’d addressed her in days. Not that he didn’t before, but the conversation had always been limited beforehand:

“Hi,” she’d say.

“Hi,” he’d reply.

“How’s it going?” she’d ask.

“Good. You?” he’d reply.

“Fine,” she’d finish.

And nothing more would ensue between them. But there he was now, complementing her across the table, his gaze uninterrupted.

“Well, now you have to ace that test!” Fred said, completely oblivious to the tension between her and George. Angelina had never told Fred what’d happened. And now Fiona assumed George never told Fred, himself. “Maybe if you’re good enough you could help us with our little business!”

Fiona broke from the gaze, smiling at sweet Fred who had nary a clue. “I think I’ll pass,” she said with a chuckle.

“Shame,” George said.

“I’m going to the loo,” Lee said as he stood. “Can I get anyone another drink on my way back?”

“Don’t bother,” Angelina said as she, too, stood. “I’m going up now. C’mon Fred.”

Fiona and George remained alone at the table together. George sipped his drink awkwardly, and Fiona looked around the pub, pretending to take it all in.

“So,” Fiona began, “how are you doing?”

“Fine,” he said with a coy smile.

“No,” she replied. “How are you doing?”

George bit his tongue, taking in what she truly meant. “Really, I’m fine. The breakup was mutual. Alicia and I are still mates.”

“That’s good,” she smiled earnestly before awkwardly sipping her drink.

“Look Jackson,” George said suddenly before inhaling sharply as if to slow himself down. “I’m really sorry about the way I treated you.” Fiona looked at him but said nothing, taken aback by his confession. “I don’t know what was wrong with me, but I was being a right foul dick with the way I treated you. And Alicia. I really am sorry.”

“Thank you,” she said with a flat smile. She hadn’t realized that she was waiting for an apology from him. But once she’d received it, there was a part of her that settled. Like she could finally relax.

“We’re mates, yeah?” he said, squinting as if he were preparing for her to say no.

“We’re mates,” Fiona said with a laugh.

Her sixth year friends returned and they spent the rest of the beautiful day with a few more drinks and a walk around the castle. The weather remained warm until the sun went down, where they retired to the common room for the evening.

The stress of preparing for OWLS grew harder for Fiona as the Third Task approached. While everyone was excited about the grand finale, Fiona couldn’t help but feel anxious.

“Hey,” Apollo said after a DADA class. “Any news?” Fiona shook her head. “Damn,” he continued, running his hand through his hair.

“No news means good news, right?” Fiona tried to remind him.

“I’m worried,” he said. “I feel helpless too.”

“Look,” she said. “Sometimes my dreams don’t always come true! You know that.” Apollo looked up at her, listening intently. “Maybe this is one of those dreams. Maybe Dumbledore knows that!”

“How can you be certain?” he asked, a glint of suspicion in his eye.

“I can’t be,” she replied earnestly. “I can only hope.”

The Final Task finally arrived, and there was a buzz throughout the castle. Fiona decided to give in to the fun of it all, fully convincing herself that nothing would come of her silly dream.

The dinner before the task was more lively than most. There were more courses provided, and Fiona tucked in, enjoying every bite. She had hoped to sit with the Weasleys but noticed them sitting with their family. It appeared their mother as well as another older sibling had come to accompany Harry before the final task.

The sky in the Great Hall changed and Dumbledore took to his feet.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began with a great voice, “in five minutes’ time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now.”

And with that Harry and the other champions disappeared through the door behind the staff table. Afterwards, Dumbledore dismissed everyone else to the quidditch field. Fiona, her flute in hand, made her way into the stands with the rest of the orchestra. From the other side of the stands, Fiona locked eyes with George, who gave her a big grin and a wave. She returned the wave just as Flitwick stepped up to the podium.

With his great big baton in the air, he shouted. “One! Two! Three! Four!”

And the orchestra played the tune. She was too immersed in her music to know if the crowd liked it. When they finished the rally song, Bagman stepped up to the podium of his own.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each — Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!” The cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky. “In second place, with eighty points — Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!” More applause. “And in third place — Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy! So . . . on my whistle, Harry and Cedric!” said Bagman. “Three — two — one —”

A loud whistle pierced the air. Harry and Cedric disappeared into the maze, followed not long after by Fleur and Krum.

“Now remember students,” Flitwick began. “The minute someone returns with the cup, we play again! For now, you may mingle amongst yourselves.”

Lucy found Fiona and together they guessed what could be happening in the maze since they couldn’t see anything.

“Bit of a bummer, don’t you think?” Lucy said as she leaned back on her hands. “At the Muggle Olympics they’ve got a jumbotron. Wouldn’t hurt us wizards to have them too!”

“Yes but then we’d be considered as low as the muggles themselves,” she said sarcastically, not believing a word that came out of her mouth.

Lucy joined in, turning up her nose. “Oh, yes how grim!”

Out of the corner of her eye, Fiona saw Madeye move oddly. He made sudden movements like he was shaking off a thought or cringing. Fiona had seen movements like that before when she’d arrive at South Station in Boston on her way to school. People, who’d be coming off of whatever drug they took, made similar movements. Almost like nervous ticks. She swallowed hard, worried as to what could be happening to him. She said nothing to Lucy, who was oblivious and continued chatting away.

After about thirty minutes and a red flare later, someone had returned to the maze. Fleur, who did not have the cup with her, but seemed distraught and hurt. People courteously applauded, worried on Fleur’s behalf.

Another fifteen minutes passed, and Krum returned. He appeared out of it too. Karkaroff tried hard to console him, he was nearly hysterical.

A sudden chill came over Fiona. The atmosphere wasn’t right, and she couldn’t put her finger on why. She considered that maybe it was because champions returned injured or like their head wasn’t fully there. Maybe it was because there wasn’t anything to celebrate yet.

And finally, after what felt like forever, both Harry and Cedric had apparated right back into the center, the cup in Harry’s hand.

Flitwick scrambled to his feet and the band to their instruments. “One Two Three Four!

Just like before, the orchestra played the jolly tune. Fiona couldn’t hear much except for the notes she and the students around her played, but she swore she could hear a scream. She looked up where Harry and Cedric still laid, other gathering around them. More screams could be heard and finally the whole orchestra noticed, stopping their playing as they stood up to get a better look.

“Harry! Harry!” Dumbledore cried as he approached the boy.

Words exchanged between them as more curious people crowded them.

“My God– Diggory!” the prime minister cried. “Dumbledore! He’s dead!” Fiona fell backward into the stands. Her dream had become a reality. But it was never anyone she’d suspected. It was Cedric.

No one had noticed she’d fallen as more and more people drew close, echoing the words that had just left the mouth of the prime minister.

“He’s dead!”

“Cedric!”

More commotion grew around Harry. Fiona felt as though her heart had completely stopped. Her body begged for air, but she couldn’t compel herself to breathe in.

“Nooo!!” an older man’s voice wailed throughout the crowd, stopping everyone in their tracks. Fiona finally inhaled, tears beginning to well. “That’s my son!”

“Everyone!” McGonagall called over the crowd. “Back to your dorms!” The crowd stood, still stunned. Cedric’s father still wailed, other began to cry. “Now!” she demanded. Without hesitation, everyone in the crowd scrambled to their feet, making their way back to the castle. Fiona remained in the stands, in complete shock.

“Fiona,” Lucy said quietly, tears streaming down her face. “We have to go.” But Fiona didn’t move. She couldn’t move. This was her fault. It was all her fault. Had she been more clever, she could have known. She could have stopped it.

She hadn’t even noticed Lucy had left and returned with another body.

“Ona,” Apollo’s uneven voice cracked. Fiona finally looked up. Apollo’s eyes we’re red and his chin trembled as he looked at her with his blue eyes. Fiona began to sob at the sight of him, leaping into his arms where he held her tightly. Eventually he pulled apart, looking into her eyes. “We need to go.”

Fiona nodded, mindlessly following her brother and Lucy back to the castle.

A stillness stiffened the castle’s air that once was buzzing with excitement. Not a soul spoke in the common room. Fred and George looked paler than usual, sitting on the stairs together, their younger sister, Ginny, comforted under George’s arm. Their brother Ron and his friend Hermione never returned. Lucy held Fiona’s hand. No one spoke. No one sobbed. Those who were crying did so silently. There was no sound until McGonagall stepped through the portrait hole, looking tired and a bit older. Everyone sat up, eager to hear what McGonagall had to say.

She opened and closed her mouth a few times as she struggled to find the words. Finally she spoke.

“My dear students,” she began. Her voice was clear, but not as stern as it usually was. “There has been a terrible incident this evening.” It was so quiet, one could hear a pin drop. “Tonight at the TriWizard Tournament, a student has died. I’m so very sorry to tell you that we have lost Hogwarts’ own, Cedric Diggory.” A couple gasps could be heard. Fiona shivered. She didn’t want to admit that it was true, but she really couldn’t deny it now.

“I’m sure you want to know more. But I can’t tell you everything because… I don’t know everything. What I do know is that Harry was with Cedric in his passing, doing everything he could to prevent it.”

“Where’s Harry now?” Neville Longbottom asked.

“Recovering in the hospital wing. Mr. Weasley’s family is taking care of him now.”
The Weasley twins and their younger sister seemed to relax a bit more. Fiona hadn’t realized Harry was practically part of their family.

“Now I want all of you to try your hardest to get some rest. Should you need me, I will be in my office.” The professor turned to make through the portrait hole, but was interrupted by a second year.

“Professor,” the young witch said. “How is it he died?”

The old professor sighed, looking like the question had aged her another five years. “I’m not in the position to tell you that now. Now all of you, please get some rest.”

On her way out, McGonagall locked eyes with Fiona. For a moment, Fiona was convinced she could hear the professor’s thoughts, but in a blink the old witch was out the door.

The room remained still for only a few more minutes before one by one, students began to make their way to bed. Fred and George consoled a very upset Ginny before they too slipped off to their own rooms. Fiona remained sitting on the floor, her back against the wall. She couldn’t move.

“Fiona,” Lucy said quietly, “C’mon.”

Lucy took Fiona’s arm, pulling her up and guiding her to their dormitory. She somehow found her way into her own bed. She laid under the covers, on her back while the tears rolled down her temples, through her hair, onto the pillow. She wasn’t sure if she slept at all that night. But one thing was certain: she never stopped crying.

"I WATCHED YOU SUFFER
A DULL ACHING PAIN
AND NOW YOU'VE DECIDED
TO SHOW ME THE SAME

NO SWEEPING EXITS
OR OFFSTAGE LINES
YOU MADE ME FEEL BITTER
OR TREAT YOU UNKIND

WILD HORSES
COULDN'T DRAG ME AWAY"

Chapter Text

The following morning was as dim as the night before. No one really spoke to one another, even at breakfast, when Dumbledore addressed the school.

“I’m sure you all have many questions,” he started. “And when the time comes, I will tell you what I know. But for now we must be respectful of Mr. Potter. What he has seen is something I wish none of you to endure. So as you return to your last classes of the year, be sure to leave Mr. Potter be. Off you go.”

Fiona was the first to leave the hall, she hadn’t eaten anything anyway. It was Saturday so they had the day off. She went straight to the lake where she sat on the rocky shore for hours, looking out onto the water that rippled in the warm sun.

Footsteps approached her, crunching through the pebbles with each step. She didn’t turn to see who it was. She didn’t care. She had nothing to say. To anyone. A figure sat beside her silently, and by the red glow that burned in her peripheral vision, she knew it was George. Still, she didn’t move or say anything. She didn’t want to.

George didn’t say anything either. Together, they sat in comfortable silence, the only sound coming from the lake’s small waves that lapped up onto the rocky shore.

“He’s going to be okay,” George said suddenly. “Ron told me.”

Fiona looked down at the laces on her shoes. “I know,” she croaked. She hadn’t spoken since the night before and hadn’t realized how many cobwebs had formed in her throat.

“And so are you.” Fiona turned to look at him. He too looked like he had been crying, his eyes worn and red.

“I’m not worried about me,” Fiona scowled. “I’m worried about everyone around me.”

“We’ll be okay too,” he said.

“How can you be sure?” she said, growing irritated. “Here I am, having a prophetic vision that someone was to die and I assumed it was the wrong person.”

“Wot?” George frowned.

“Not only that,” Fiona continued, ignoring George’s confusion, “But I put my faith into someone I thought could actually help. And he did nothing.”

“Jackson, what’s this about?”

Fiona glanced at him and hesitated. She didn’t want him to think she was a nutcase. She wasn’t. She never was. And she regretted that she’d even doubted herself for one second. Taking a deep breath, Fiona told George everything. He listened intently, never interrupting her.

“The bees,” George said a minute after Fiona confessed. “Black and yellow. That’s Hufflepuff.”

Fiona began to cry, realizing she had missed a huge message in her dream. “So maybe I’m dim witted then.”

“No, Fiona,” George replied confidently. “Even if you’d guessed that, you wouldn’t have been able to piece together who it was exactly.”

“I could’ve done more,” she said through sobs.

“No, you couldn’t have.” He said, scooting closer so he could comfort her. “Jackson, you can’t blame yourself for what happened. You weren’t even there. It’s not your fault. It’s not Harry’s fault. It’s not Dumbledore’s fault. It’s the one who killed Cedric himself. It’s Voldemort’s fault.” Fiona stopped crying immediately, stunned by the name drop. She looked up at George, silently begging him to say more. “Ron told me that too.”

“I thought he was dead,” she said quietly.

“We all did,” George said, looking out at the lake longingly.

“Malus reditus,” Fiona muttered. “Evil returns.”

“It seems so,” George replied.

Fiona still wasn’t sure why messages of Professor Moody had appeared in her dream. That was, until, news leaked out that he was an imposter the entire time. The rumor had it that he was Barty Crouch’s son, and that he had killed his father who had gone missing months earlier. The motive wasn’t clear. Supporters of Harry thought he was sent by Voldemort to rig the games and kill Harry. Deniers thought there was no correlation. At first, Fiona wasn’t sure what to believe. But once Dumbledore addressed the school, she knew which to decide.

“The end,” said Dumbledore, as he stood at the front of the great hall, “of another year.”

It was the last dinner before the end of the year. Apparently it was custom for Dumbledore to address the school. Fiona had imagined this dinner to be a bitter sweet moment. But as she looked at all her friends, and the students sitting across the hall, she only felt sadness.

“There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight,” continued Dumbledore, “but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here,” he gestured toward the Hufflepuffs, “enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory.” Fiona stood alongside her friends, who stifled their tears as they raised their glasses and spoke, “Cedric Diggory.”

“Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff house,” Dumbledore continued. “He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about.” Fiona swallowed, taking in the tension that rippled across the hall. The school had been waiting for this since the very task itself. “Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort.” Fiona took in the faces of those around her, some frowned in disbelief, others began to cry a bit more.

“The Ministry of Magic,” Dumbledore continued, “does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so — either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory.

“There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Cedric’s death,” Dumbledore went on, as he turned to glance at the Gryffindor table. “I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter.” Fiona glanced towards Harry, who looked down at the table avoiding everyone’s looks. “Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort,” said Dumbledore. “He risked his own life to return Cedric’s body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor him.” Dumbledore raised his goblet once more, and nearly everyone in the Great Hall followed suit.

“The Triwizard Tournament’s aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened — of Lord Voldemort’s return — such ties are more important than ever before.” Dumbledore looked from Madame Maxime and Hagrid, to Fleur Delacour and her fellow Beauxbatons students, to Viktor Krum and the Durmstrangs at the Slytherin table. “Every guest in this Hall,” said Dumbledore, and his eyes lingered upon the Durmstrang students, “will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again — in the light of Lord Voldemort’s return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort’s gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.

“It is my belief — and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken — that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was taken from our midst.

“Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory.”

Fiona had almost finished packing when she was confronted by Lucy.

“Take these,” she said, as she handed over a handful of cassette tapes. Amongst them was the Sunday’s “Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic” and the Cure’s “Wish.”

“I can’t take these,” Fiona said, pushing her hand away. “They’re your prized possessions!”

“Yeah, and I’m giving them to you!” Lucy said, throwing the tapes into Fiona’s trunk.

“Well, fine,” Fiona said as she rummaged through her things that were spread across her bed. “Then take these.” In Fiona’s hand were Hole’s “Live Through This” and The Cranberries’ “Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We?”

“You mad?” Lucy said with wide eyes.

“Absolutely mental,” Fiona replied with a grin.

Lucy hesitated for only a moment for pulling Fiona in for a great big hug. “Write me, okay?” she said before pulling away. “I’ll be stuck in Spain with my bloody parents, I’ll need the relief.”

“Of course,” Fiona smiled. “I’ll write to all of you.”

Katie and Gemma joined in for a great big group hug. They lingered there for a moment, tears filling their eyes. Fiona wondered if all end-of-year partings were this emotional. But maybe it was just because of everything that’s happened.

Fiona finished packing her things, taking one long look at her four poster bed before following her roommates to the train. In the courtyard she found Apollo, who was saying his farewells to his own roommates and Ravenclaw friends.

“I’ll write to all of you,” he said as he gave everyone half hugs. Luna lingered a little longer in to her hug, then handed him a yellow dandelion before waving goodbye.

“You ready?” Fiona said, motioning towards the trainstation. Apollo nodded, and they made their way towards Hogsmeade Station. “Did you get to say goodbye to everyone?”

“Yeah,” he responded.

“Even Fleur?” Fiona teased.

“That’s over,” Apollo cringed. “But, yes, I said goodbye.”

She smiled up at him as they walked on to the small platform. They found the compartment just like before with the Weasley twins, Angelina, and Lee. Fiona found herself not participating in the banter. Instead, she watched as the Weasleys quipped at one another, Apollo occasionally joining in. Halfway through the train ride, the Weasleys disappeared, wanting to check in on Harry, and so it was only Angelina and Lee they departed the train with.

They were about to part ways on the platform when Fiona stopped Angelina. “Thank you,” she said. Angelina frowned in confusion. “For being such a great friend to me.”

Angelina smiled coyly. “Anything for our Jackson.”

"I VOW THAT IT'S GOODBYE

TO THE OLD WAYS

THOSE STORIES WERE A GOOD READ

THEY WERE DUMB AS WELL

I COULD NEVER BE SEEN

FALLING DOWN ON MY KNEES

CRAWLING

OH NO

TALK ABOUT A SELL, SELL, SELL

End of Book 1.

Chapter Text

The minute the plane hit the ground Fiona could feel the humidity. Most people complained about the South Carolinan humidity, but to her it meant she was home. She watched the horizon zoom by as the plane slowed its speed. The bald cypresses and sweet gum trees were lush with green and there was hardly a cloud in the sky. Fionas heart fluttered with excitement at the sight.

“We’re here!” Fiona said to her brother excitedly.

“Eight hours later,” Apollo replied dully, bags under his eyes.

Their mother offered to send them home via the international floo network, but Fiona declined. Living at home with her dad for the summer meant living like a no-maj. An eight hour plane ride was the perfect way to get her into the right mindset. The Atlanta international airport was huge and it took the twins some time to find baggage claim and meet their father at the front. But once they did it was a joyous reunion.

“Daddy!” Fiona said, leaping into his arms. He laughed joyously, holding her tightly, and smelled just as she remembered: beeswax and lilac, just like the candles he made.

“My baby girl, I missed you,” he said as he took her in his arms. Her father was a short, balding man and as he stood before Apollo, he appeared only smaller. “Lord, you’ve grown!” he said, taking his son in for a hug.

“I missed you, Pops,” Apollo said as he parted, feeling awkward at how he towered over his own father.

They didn’t stop long to chat as the drive back to their home in Batesburgh would be around three hours– a perfect amount of time to catch up on all the things they had experienced at Hogwarts over the year.

In their father's Honda Accord, Fiona told him about all her new friends, filled him in on how she’d joined the orchestra, and about the Triwizard tournament. Then she stopped as the memory of screams and urgency filled her ears; the flashing images of the headmaster crowded around the body. And Harry, poor Harry, sobbing over the body of this innocent student, his competitor, his friend.

“Fiona?” she heard her father say. Suddenly she was back in the front seat of the car, the trees flying past the open window, and the warm humid air whipping the hair around her head. “You alright?”

“Pops, did Mom tell you anything about what happened at school?” Apollo said before Fiona answered. She wondered if he had used occlumency, as he had practically read her mind.

“No,” Mr. Jackson replied, his brow furrowed as he snuck glances between the road and his children.

“Well,” Apollo continued, a tinge of nervousness quivering in his voice, “A student died at school.”

“What?” Mr. Jackson said quietly. His hands gripped the steering wheel a little harder. “How?”

“At the tournament,” Apollo replied, leaning back into his seat. “They say it’s an accident…”

“It wasn’t an accident,” Fiona found herself saying.

Apollo tisked. “Fiona, cut it out. We don’t know that it was Vo–”

“Yes we do! Dumbledore said so himself,” Fiona cut him off, turning around in her seat to look at Apollo, her seat belt cutting into her neck.

“Harry wasn’t right in his mind when he told Dumbledore. You saw him, he was hysterical!”

“Because he saw Cedric DIE!”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Mr. Jackson interfered, his lips pursed so it puffed out his mustage. “Let’s put this conversation to an end.”

“You don’t want to know?” Fiona said quietly, suddenly feeling very guilty that she had already started a fight with her brother.

“No, and if I do… I’ll just call Mama.”

A silence hung over them for a while. Apollo stretched out in the back seat and quickly fell asleep. Fiona curled up in the passenger seat, wrapping her arms around her legs. She wasn''t cold in the slightest, but she needed to feel some sense of closeness. Her father eventually took her hand, holding it on top of the central console.

“You’ll be okay, baby girl,” He said with a thick southern drawl, his eyes still set on the road.

“Thanks, dad,” she said, a soft smile curling the corners of her mouth. Then she changed the subject “Do we have anything planned this summer?”

Mr. Jackson smiled. “There could be a couple beach days in our future… maybe we’ll visit Mamaw in Louisiana,” he glanced at Fiona with a suspicious eyebrow, “Why? Got somethin’ planned?”

Fiona made a cunning grin. “Crawfish boil?”

Mr. Jackson laughed heartily, causing Apollo to stir in the back seat. “Still on about that damn boil, aint ya?”

“Always,” Fiona laughed.

“Well maybe if you pass your driver’s test, we’ll have a crawfish boil.”

“Deal.”

The rest of the drive was quiet, Fiona napped a little as she already felt jetlagged from the travel, and by the time she awoke they’d already arrived back at their small house in Batesburgh.

Fiona took in the surroundings of her one story house. It all looked the same. The blue door was still chipped and burnt from the sun, and the shutters were still there, though the one on the right side of the house remained half hinged, broken from the last hurricane that blew through. As Fiona took it all in, she noticed the new couple gardening in front of their next door neighbor’s house.

“New neighbors?” Fiona asked, as they pulled into the driveway.

“That’s Helen and Mike Carr,” Mr. Jackson replied as he set the car in park, waking Apollo from his slumber. “They have a daughter around your age. ‘Vicky’ or ‘Ronnie’ or something.”

The three Jacksons unloaded their suitcases from the car into the house, which Fiona was pleased to see also remained the same as she had left it. It smelled of eucalyptus and lavender, the many scents her father used in his candles; the giant bookshelf in the living room that held their favorite VHS tapes seemed taller than ever; and her room still the same as she had left it the summer before, the pink bed covers and her Depeche Mode poster still on the wall. Fiona flopped on her bed, exhausted from the day’s travels. She thought of her friends back in England and what they must be doing. Would it be as warm as it was in South Carolina? Had Lucy left for Spain already? Was Katie already practicing quidditch in her backyard? And George… was he spending the summer at the burrow? Did he miss her? Fiona shook her head at the thought. Silly, she said to herself. In the end, she decided to grab a pen and paper and write to him. Even as friends they could write to one another, could they not?

Dear George,

I’ve just arrived here in South Carolina. It’s so hot. I miss the cool weather in England. Are things still cool there? Are you doing anything fun this summer? I bet summers at the burrow are nothing but fun.

I might be going to the beach one of these days with my dad. Apollo might come if he’s up for it. He already seems happier now that he’s home.
Oh, and I’ll be getting my driver’s license so I can drive the muggle cars your father’s so fond of.

Write me,
Fiona x

Fiona folded the paper into her envelope, sealing it with a sticker and marking it with her return address and stamp. She went to go look for Berty, the owl their mother left at the house so they could write but her father had just let him out. Fiona went out to whistle for his return but stopped at the sight of her new next door neighbor sitting on her doorstep. Fiona assumed this was the daughter of Mr and Mrs. Carr.

“Hey,” the girl said. She sat on the front porch, a cigarette lit in her hand. Though her hair was a greasy black, her features resembled Fleur. But maybe that was just because she was smoking a cigarette.

“Hi,” Fiona said, her letter still in her hand. She knew calling for Berty would immediately raise questions, so she decided to pretend to check the mail.

“You’re Fiona,” the girl said, before taking a large drag of her cigarette.

“Yeah,” Fiona said awkwardly, peaking inside the mail box that was attatched to the wall of her house. She wasn’t sure what to make of this girl, whose jeans were distressed and wore a black zip-up jacket even though it was eighty-five degrees.

“Nikki,” the girl said.

“Nice to meet you,” Fiona replied, shutting the mail box after grabbing the contents from inside.

“My parents say you go to boarding school,” Nikki added before Fiona could go back inside.

“Yeah,” Fiona replied plainly.

Nikki took another drag. “Here? I ain’t heard of a boarding school in South Carolina”

“No,” Fiona said. “In the UK.”

Nikki stood and squinted as she took in Fiona’s house. “Y’all don’t seem like the kind of rich kids that go to a boarding school in fancy England.”

Fiona scowled. “Thanks…?”

“I just mean,” Nikki said as she stood and crossed the lawn, “well… How is it you needa go to school in England?”

“My mom got a job there,” Fiona replied, taking in this close up of Nikki. Her nose was pierced and her eyeliner smudged around her eyes. It seemed like she tried to hide everything about her except her freckles. Those stood out.

“Parents divorced?”

“No,” Fiona said quickly. Nikki frowned in confusion. Fiona knew she couldn’t explain why her parents lived two lives without revealing she was a wizard. “It’s complicated.”

“‘Wish my parents were,” Nikki said with a smirk. Fiona cracked a small smile in return. “So, you here for the summer?”

“Yeah,” Fiona said, looking around at her street. She still wasn’t sure what she was going to do for the next few months. If anything it was going to get hotter, so a trip to the pool or the beach would be necessary.

“We should chill,” Nikki added before extinguishing her cigarette under the sole of her shoe. “This town is dead and all the kids our age are lame. But you seem alright.”

Fiona only smiled in return, unsure of how to reply.

"I'll call you," Nikki said, squinting in the harsh summer sunlight before turning on her heel for her house.

Fiona snickered to herself. There would be no need to call. She lived next door.

Chapter Text

“Go! Go!” yelled Nikki, who was halfway out of the pool.

Fiona squealed in excitement as she followed Nikki out of the pool and over the fence, grabbing her shoes on the way.

“If I catch you two in my pool again, it’ll be the cops that find you!” Mrs. Abbinson yelled after them, her voice fading as they ran farther from her home.

There was only a month left of the summer, and Fiona had spent the first half hopping pools in the neighborhood, drinking smirnoff in the giant culvert, and nicking leftover tips off the tables at the diner, all with Nikki by her side. Never in her life did Fiona dream of doing these things, but her dad was busy with selling candles and couldn’t take her to the beach, and Apollo was busy being depressed in his room or watching jeopardy. He hadn’t passed his drivers test like she had, and Fiona assumed he’d decided to punish himself. Sure, Fiona knew it was wrong to be doing all of those things, but by god she was bored. And Lord help a sixteen year old who was bored…

“That was close,” Fiona said as she caught her breath, hiding behind the tree a few houses down from Mrs. Abbinson’s.

“Gives you a sort of thrill, doesn’t it?” Nikki responded, her eyes wild with excitement. She pulled a cigarette out of her jacket, lighting it and puffing smoke into Fiona’s face. Fiona laughed, stealing the cigarette out of Nikki’s fingers, and taking her own hit. “Now that you’ve got your license we can have even bigger thrills.”

“How?” Fiona asked before taking another long drag.

“Because then we can go to the really rich neighborhoods,” she responded with suggestive eyes. “Maybe we can even go into another town and sneak into the bars.”

“You’re wild,” Fiona laughed before putting out the cigarette under her flip flop. She stored the butt back in the box. Cigarettes were expensive, and both being under eighteen, they weren’t easy to come by.

She had always been against smoking, worried it would harm her flute playing. But being with Nikki made it an easy activity to get into. That, and it helped suppress the memories of the third task. Those memories were unpredictable. Sometimes they’d come up when she first opened her eyes in the morning, sometimes when she went to bed, and sometimes in broad daylight. But Fiona could always trust that a few hits from a cig was enough to calm her down.

While Nikki had got Fiona into smoking, she wasn’t just some “bad” girl Fiona could get out all her pent up disobedience with. They had things in common too. Like Fiona, Nikki had an impeccable taste in music. The walls in her room were completely covered by stacks of vinyl, tapes and CDs. It was like a music library; anything you wanted to listen to, she had. Even the most underground bands that no one had ever heard of.

“The Night Crowd are killer,” Nikki said as she was going through one of the many media stacks in her room. Fiona was desperate for new music. She didn’t want to admit it, but the Sundays were getting old. “My cousin Shawna in Chicago sees them, like, all the time. Says they’re better live which is so hard to believe!” Nikki handed Fiona the Night Crowd’s cassette. It looked like it was homemade, but on the front they still managed to put in a picture of themselves.

That night Fiona put the tape in her boombox and played the Night Crowd’s music. It was a heavy-sort of rock, like some she’s heard on a Nirvana album. Still, it wasn’t bad. She took a look at the album cover again, which displayed a grainy photo of the band. They all had long hair, not as big as all the guys in Van Halen, but nothing like that of the shiny new boy band, *NSYNC. They were clean shaven with the exception of the bassist. A red head, he reminded her of George.

While the grungy music played, Fiona walked over to her desk, pulling out all the letters she’d received. Despite Lucy’s initial expectations, she was having a blast in Spain. Katie had met up with Angelina in London to catch a few quidditch games. And Gemma had got a summer job at her local market in Oban. Out of all of her friends, however, Fiona received the most letters from George. She had responded to the first few letters, but then they kept coming. At most, she’d received four in one week. There was only so much she could tell him, living in such a small town. That, and she didn’t feel like updating him on all the near trouble she’d got in.

George seemed to be having a lively summer, having stayed in London instead of the burrow– something about his mom’s new job. He’d caught up with Angelina and Katie, even spent a weekend with Lee. But in every letter he asked her what she was up to, and every response she wrote was vague. The most exciting thing she felt comfortable sharing was that she’d got her license. Otherwise, she wrote a few lines about the weather, how Apollo rarely left the house, and how she’d spent some time in her neighbor’s pool (being sure to leave out the extra detail).

She was in the process of responding to one of George’s five letters from the week when she was interrupted by a pounding on her door. She ripped it open to find Apollo standing there, fury in his eyes.

“Do you mind?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

“What?” she said before lighting up a cigarette in her mouth.

“The music, Ona,” Apollo said, pushing his way in and turning the music down on her boombox. “You really shouldn’t be smoking in here too.”

Fiona blew out a puff and scoffed. “Like dad’s gonna notice,” she replied as pushed open all of her windows. “His olfactory system is shot from smelling candles all day– Hey!” Apollo had taken the cigarette out of her mouth, going over to sit on the window sill and steal a few drags. “Excuse me, those are not cheap.”

“You can share with your twin of all people,” He replied wryly before blowing smoke out the window.

“Should you even be smoking?” Fiona asked as she stole the cig back from her brother. “I mean, you’ve been so depressed. You could develop a problem.”

Apollo scowled at her. “Unlike you?” he said sarcastically.

“I don’t have a problem,” she scoffed.

“No?” Apollo replied, unable to drop the sarcasm.

“Well, I mean I’m not shut up in my room all day reading Play Boys. Unlike you, I actually go out and have fun.”

Apollo hissed as he hopped off the window sill, making his way towards the door. “You know, Ona, ever since you met this Nikki girl you’ve turned into a real…”

Fiona scowled at him. “Say it,” she demanded.

“A real bitch,” he spat before slamming the door.

“Fourrer!” she called after him before tossing her dead cig into the dirt outside her window.

As she sat back down to finish her letter, she thought for a moment. Had she really turned into a bitch? She admitted she hadn’t gone out of her way to be nice to Apollo, but in turn, he hadn’t either. Fiona groaned as she looked at all the unresponded letters. Maybe she had turned into a bitch… but what was she to do? Be agood little girl and be bored out of her mind? Frustrated, Fiona lit another cigarette and turned up her music.

…

Fiona woke one morning to a rapping on her window. She tossed over, rubbing her eyes to see where the noise came from. Nikki was outside, looking anxious. Fiona groaned, getting up to open the window.

“What?” she croaked.

“You ain’t never gonna guess what I just found out,” Nikki said excitedly as she climbed through the window.

“I’m already out of guesses,” Fiona said wryly as she laid back down on her bed.

“The Night Crowd are playing a show in Columbia this weekend!!”

Fiona sat up. “Really?” Ever since Nikki gave her the tape, she had been listening to their music daily.

Nikki sat on Fiona’s bed. “Shawna just called and told me they’re on tour! Said they’re gonna play in Columbia on Saturday night!”

“We have to go!” Fiona replied, suddenly feeling very excited.

“Don’t worry,” Nikki said with suggestive eyes. “I’ve already got us tickets!”

“I have to find an outfit,” Fiona said, standing quickly to go through her wardrobe.

“Oh, no,” Nikki said, running after her. “You can’t wear any of this.” Fiona turned, frowning at her. “Girl, this is a twenty-one and up club! You and your pinks and purples will never pass for twenty one.”

Fiona sighed, placing her hands on her hips in defiance. “Believe it or not, I’ve passed for twenty one!”

“Were you really wearing any of this?” Nikki asked, gesturing to her closet.

Fiona reminisced on her birthday, recalling that it was mostly Lucy’s wardrobe she was wearing. “Ugh, you’re right.”

Nikki took her hand, pulling her back over to the bed. “Don’t worry. I got so many things you can borrow.”

Fiona got dressed and went over to Nikki’s house, going through her wardrobe to see what she could wear, when it hit her.

“Shit, Nikki,” she said, slamming her palm into her forehead. “I don’t have the car this weekend.” Nikki scoffed like Fiona was kidding. “I’m serious! My dad’s in Charleston all weekend.”

“We’ll take the bus, then,” Nikki responded, paying no mind to Fiona.

Saturday came and their father had already left for a farmers market in Charleston, leaving a few twenties for food. Fiona stashed one before showing Apollo, she figured she could use it at the bar. Later that evening, Nikki came over to get ready, bringing extra clothes and makeup. They sat on Fiona’s bed as they applied makeup, blasting music by The Night Crowd. Apollo stormed in, furious yet again.

“Do you mind?!” he barked, going over to the boombox and turning it down.

“What, can’t hear your Jeopardy?” Nikki taunted, before applying her dark vampy lipstick.

Apollo hesitated as he watched them get ready. “Where are you going?” he asked.

“Out,” Fiona responded.

“We would’ve invited you, but I could only get two tickets,” Nikki added with a snooty smile.

“Tickets? Wait, you’re going to a concert?”

“Damn right,” Nikki said standing up. She began to walk slowly around Apollo, like a lioness stalking her prey. “The Night Crowd’s playing Roadie’s tonight.”

“Roadie’s,” Apollo mumbled, warily watching Nikki as she stalked around him. “That’s in Columbia…”

“Damn right,” Nikki said again, before letting out a hearty laugh.

“Speaking of which,” Fiona said as she checked her watch, “the bus leaves in twenty, so we should go.”

“Sorry you can’t come,” Nikki said with a sarcastic pout before heading towards the living room and calling behind her, “we’ll get you an autograph!”

Fiona was about to follow Nikki when Apollo stopped her. “Ona wait,” he said, holding her arm. “I don’t like this. Columbia’s an hour away.”

“So?” Fiona said, wiggling her arm out of his grasp.

“Something could happen,” he said, a worried look in his eye. “Does Dad know?”

“Of course he doesn’t” Fiona scoffed.

“I don’t like this,” Apollo said again. He wasn’t being demanding of Fiona, if anything, he looked worried and small, more like a little brother than of a twin.

Fiona sighed, taking off the charm bracelet Katie had gifted her and handing it to him. “Take this,” she said as he held it in his hand. He glanced first at the bracelet, then at her, frowning in confusion. “It’s a charm bracelet.”

Apollo blinked. “Fiona,” he said firmly, “You may think I’m dumb, but I’m not that dumb!”

“No!” Fiona interrupted. “It’s charmed! You know… with magic” Apollo looked at the bracelet again, giving it a good inspection this time. “It’ll tell you where anyone is if you ask. Try it.”

“Where’s Fiona?” he whispered to it. His eyes widened as it communicated to him, though only he could hear. “Where did you get this?”

“Katie gave it to me,” she replied as she pulled on her jacket. “If I’m not home by one then something’s wrong.”

“Let’s hope I don’t have to use this then,” Apollo said wryly, throwing the bracelet into his pocket and going back into his room, being sure to shut his door as loudly as possible.

As expected the bus ride was long and boring, but eventually they made it to Roadie’s. It was decently packed, apparently more than just Shawna and Nikki had heard of the band. Still, Fiona and her neighbor were able to weasel their way to the front, not before downing a few drinks. After a few lousy openers, the Night Crowd walked on stage. Maybe it was the alcohol but the boys in the band looked even cuter in person. They picked up their instruments, playing the grungy sound Fiona had gotten familiar with over the summer.

OOH GIRL
LET ME PLAY YOU LIKE A VIOLIN
GIRL DON’T STOP ME NOW
CAUSE I’M ALL IN

LET ME LOVE YOU HARD
HARDER THAN ME
YEAH LET ME LOVE YOU HARD
HARDER THAN ME

“Ugh I wish Zach would play me like that,” Nikki exclaimed over the loud music, intensely watching the lead guitarist. And after the first few songs, he was intensely watching her too. In fact their gazes were firmly locked on one another. Fiona watched bashfully. It was almost like they were playing a game with one another. The sexier Nikki danced, the harder Zach played. Fiona wanted to laugh, it was almost ridiculous.

“Oh my God,” Nikki said suddenly as she drunkenly leaned over to Fiona, “Kyle is so checkin’ you out!”

“Which one’s that?” Fiona yelled over the loud music.

“Fi!” Nikki laughed in disbelief. “Just look! The one who can’t stop looking at you!” Fiona scanned the band until her eyes landed on the bass player. Of course, she thought. The George lookalike. He winked at her which made her stomach jump. Fiona was taken aback, unprepared for her body to respond that way. A few more songs and a few more intense glances later, Fiona and Nikki found themselves at the merch table at the end of the concert.

A tall balding man was running the table, looking incredibly worn and miserable. Fiona was just about to pay for a t-shirt when the bald man cleared his throat.

“You’re the girls in the front?” he asked. They nodded. “Come with me.”

Before Fiona could think, Nikki had already taken her hand, pulling her through the door backstage. Fiona checked her watch, it was almost twelve and they were going to miss the last bus back.

“Wait, Nikki,” she whispered, “we’re gonna miss the bus.”

“Then we’ll make them drive us home,” she said with a smirk. Fiona sighed, but followed. Eventually, the bald man led them into what appeared to be the green room. It wasn’t anything fancy. There were two old worn leather couches, a minifridge and a microwave. The long haired boys from the band looked up through all of the smoke they’d produced from their joints.

“Look who it is,” Zach flirted, tossing his long brown hair over his shoulder. He made his way over to Fiona and Nikki, who were still standing in the doorway, leaning his arm on the wall so he towered over them. “Funny, we never got your names.”

Nikki, who worked hard to suppress her excitement, laughed. “Nikki,” she said, in a sultry voice.

“Cute,” Zach said before taking her hand and pulling her over to the couch. Fiona followed sheepishly. “This is Kyle and Eddie,” He continued, gesturing to his other bandmates. Kyle gave Fiona another wink.

“Sup,” said Eddie, the drummer, looking high out of his mind.

“This is Fiona,” Nikki said, gesturing to Fiona who nervously waved.

“Fiona,” Kyle, the bassist, echoed. “I like that.” He walked over, sitting closely next to her. “What is that? Scottish?”

Fiona laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck. “I don’t know, maybe.” Kyle nodded slowly, his expression saying that Fiona’s response wasn’t the right one. She needed to think quickly. “What about ‘Kyle’? What’s that?”

Kyle laughed before scratching his red beard. “You know, I actually don’t know either.”

They laughed together. It was awkward, but Fiona admitted to herself that he was definitely cute. His chin was chiseled and he had the most perfect teeth she’d ever seen. Not to mention his beard added another level of temptation she couldn’t resist.

“So what college do you ladies attend?” Zach asked before lighting up a cigarette. Fiona blanked. She’d forgotten she was supposed to be over the age of twenty one.

“USC Columbia,” Nikki said quickly. “At least I do. Fiona, here, goes to school in England.”

“Scotland, actually,” she corrected without thinking.

“No way?” Kyle said, leaning closer to Fiona. “Which school?”

Fiona had to think quickly. “Royal Conservatoire. I’m studying music.”

“Wow, you’re cute and talented?” Kyle said, leaning even closer. “I hope we made a good impression.” Fiona smiled, her gaze flashing between his eyes and his lips. He got the hint, planting his lips on hers. She was fully locked into this sudden intimacy, turned on by the mystery of this person and the fact that there were no strings attached. She didn’t have to worry how this guy felt. She didn’t have to worry that he was cheating on someone with her. She didn’t have to worry at all. It felt like a nice change

When they came up for air, Nikki’s own lips were firmly planted on Zach’s, and Eddie had left. Poor guy, Fiona thought to herself.

“Hey,” Kyle whispered in Fiona’s ear, “you got a place to stay tonight?” Her stomach dropped. Not in a fun, cute-kinda way, but in a scared-kinda way. He was coming on too strong for what was comfortable for Fiona, and That worry she assumed she didn’t need to have had suddenly arrived.

Fiona tried to play off her sudden anxiety with a laugh. “My home,” she said.

“Is that an invitation?” he asked before sneaking another kiss.

Fiona laughed again, getting increasingly nervous. “No, but I wouldn’t mind if you gave us a ride there.”

“I’ll think about it,” he said with a grin, before leaning in for another kiss. The whole time her gut was telling her to run, but she couldn’t leave Nikki alone. Unsure of what to do, she froze, continuing to kiss Kyle. It felt like forever before they came up for air again.

“Kyle, buddy,” Zach said as he finally parted from Nikki, “We should get our guests some drinks.”

“Totally,” Kyle said as he stood. “What can I get you?”

“Just water,” Fiona smiled.

“Vodka soda,” Nikki said, her lips red and worn.

Fiona caught Kyle and Zach giving each other glances before they left the green room.

“We need to go,” Fiona said without thinking. She couldn’t shake the pit in her stomach.

“You ain’t having fun?” Nikki said, slightly slurring her words. Fiona couldn’t remember how many drinks she had.

“No, it’s just…” Fiona bit her tongue. “I have a bad feeling.”

“That’s just your nerves, Fi. Relax.”

The guys returned with drinks. Nikki downed hers. Fiona, feeling so queasy she couldn’t even tolerate water, set hers down.

“Not thirsty?” Kyle asked.

“I just want to get to know you more,” she lied with a smile. “Where are you from?”

“New Jersey,” he said. “Well, I was born there. I grew up in Illinois. That’s how I met Zach.”

Fiona turned to look at Zach, but his lips were already locked on to Nikki’s. Kyle placed his hand on Fiona’s thigh, eager to follow suit.

“When did you guys form the band?” she asked, ignoring his gesture.

“High school,” he said, leaning closer. “Hard to believe we’ve come this far.”

“Totally,” Fiona forced a smile, turning her head to avoid his lips. When she turned she caught a glimpse of Nikki, laying limp on the couch, Zach nearly climbing on top of her. Fiona sat up quickly. At first she thought her brain had mistaken the image, but no. Nikki was unconscious and Zach was on top of her, unbuttoning her jeans. Whatever was in her drink knocked her out.

“What happened to her?” She said, panic seeping into her voice.

Kyle put his finger on her chin, moving her head to look at him. “Don’t worry about it,” he smiled. But it wasn’t the cute smile from before. There was something more sinister in this smile.

Fiona slapped his hand away from her face, getting up and pushing Zach off of Nikki. “Get off of her!” she yelled.

“Ow!” Zach said, not expecting the physical intrusion. “Kyle, get your bitch, man!”

Before Fiona could react, Kyle had her arm in a strong grip, pinning her against the wall.

“Get off me!” she screamed.

Kyle shushed her like she was a kid throwing a tantrum. “It’s okay,” he comforted, though he had her arms pinned above her head and he pressed his hips into hers. “Just drink your water, and everything will be okay.” Fiona struggled to get away but Kyle was too strong. Holding her hands above her head with one hand, he tried to force feed her the water with the other. Fiona wouldn’t open her mouth. Irritated by Fiona’s refusal, Kyle held her face aggressively, squeezing her cheeks so she had no choice but to open her mouth. Another moment and the water would have gone down, but in a blink of an eye, Kyle had collapsed, falling into Fiona and sliding down. It was like something large had hit him, knocking him out completely. Fiona looked up to see what had happened. In the doorway stood Apollo, his wand in hand, pointed at Kyle who now lay on the floor, unconscious and limp.

Zach looked up to find his bandmate on the floor, then up to see Apollo. “What the fu–”

“Stupify!” Apollo said, pointing his wand at the guitar player. In a second, he too was out cold, like he’d been thrown against the wall, leaving a large hole behind. Apollo’s wand lingered in the air for a moment longer before he came to. He walked over to Fiona, inspecting her and taking her hand. “You okay?” Fiona nodded, still stunned. She looked around at the room trying to take it all in. Nothing felt real at this moment. It was like she wasn’t there. It was like she was back in the stands at the third task.

“Here,” Apollo said, handing her her wand. She took it, grasping it firmly like she was holding on for dear life.

Eventually, she remembered Nikki, who remained unconscious on the couch, her jeans pulled down to her thighs.

“Help me get her,” she said as she walked over to Nikki. She shoved Zach on to the floor away from Nikki, pulling her jeans back up and taking her arm to hoist it over her shoulder. Without saying anything, Apollo took Nikki’s other arm.

“Wait,” he said, setting her down on the couch and then pointing his wand at Zach. “Obliviate.”

Fiona followed suit, obliviating the asshole she knew to be Kyle from The Night Crowd. She’d never be listening to their music again, that was for sure. Fiona, suppressing the tears that formed in her eyes, kicked Kyle hard in the groin.

After a moment, they picked up Nikki again and made their way out of the stage door into the back alley.

“How did you get here?” Fiona asked, heaving as they walked the perimeter of the club. While Nikki was small, she was still heavy. The fortunate thing was that the back alley and connecting street were pretty vacant, so they could take their time. “You didn’t drive, did you?”

Apollo glanced at Fiona out of the corner of his eye, before looking away. “No. Worse.”

When they turned the corner, Fiona saw Apollo’s broomstick leaning against the club’s wall. Fiona gasped.

“Apollo,” she whispered, “you could get into so much trouble.”

“That doesn’t matter now,” he said quickly. “Hold her while I get on.”

Never in Fiona’s wildest dreams did she imagine she’d be flying on a broomstick through the South Carolina countryside. But there she was, sharing a broom with her twin brother, her unconscious Nomaj neighbor sandwiched between them.

When they landed, it was nearly four in the morning. Given the weight load, it took them longer than expected to get home. Nikki was still unconscious, so they laid her on the couch, covering her with the blanket their grandmother knitted, and leaving a bucket by her side in case whatever Zack slipped into her drink came back up.

Apollo went to the back porch, sitting on the step and lighting up a cigarette he had found in Nikki’s bag. Fiona sheepishly followed him out.

“Thank you,” she whispered, “for saving us.”

“It’s no problem,” he said in a monotone before taking a long drag of the cigarette.

She sat down next to him, holding her knees to her chest. “If you hadn’t got there in time they would’ve—”

“I don’t even wanna—” Apollo interrupted, though he stopped himself.

“Apollo,” Fiona said, even quieter. “You used magic.”

Apollo looked away. He knew what that meant. “You would’ve done the same for me.”

A few quiet moments lingered as they passed the cigarette back and forth. They listened intently to the symphony of crickets and frogs that chirped in their back yard. A cold glow of sunrise peaked from behind the horizon, casting a dark blue shadow on Fiona and her brother.

“You know,” Apollo said before letting out a puff of smoke. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You’re my twin.”

“You’re my twin too,” Fiona replied, holding her knees tighter. “We’re in this till the end.”

Apollo looked at her, a faint smile flashing across his face. He passed the cigarette to her. “Till the end.”

Chapter Text

Mr. Jackson returned late Sunday evening without any suspicion. Apollo and Fiona didn’t know how long they could hold on to this peace for. It was only a matter of time before the MACUSA Feds came and busted them for using Magic outside of school.

They were able to send Nikki home on Sunday morning before their father’s arrival. Besides an upset stomach, she was perfectly fine. Fiona worried at first that Nikki could have seen them use their wands or gained a little consciousness on the broom. And she did bring something up; how she hallucinated that the three of them were flying on a broom. Fiona smiled, before agreeing that it was a weird hallucination. Other than that, Fiona hadn’t heard from Nikki. She didn’t even know if she knew what happened before all the magic. She was going to tell her, but decided a morning she wasn’t hungover would make for a more productive conversation.

All was calm at the Jackson home until Monday afternoon, when a pounding at the door woke them from their summer siesta. Fiona and Apollo both peaked their heads out of their bedroom doors as they listened to the conversation at the front door.

“Are you Mr. Claude Jackson?” said a woman’s voice.

“Yes,” Mr. Jackson replied.

“Are your children, Apollo and Fiona Jackson, here?” another man’s voice asked.

There was a quiet moment before Mr. Jackson answered. “What’s this about?”

“Please, sir,” the woman said. “We need to speak with your children. This is a magic matter.”

Fiona could hear her father sigh deeply. “Paulie! Ona! Get your butts out here.”

Fiona and Apollo looked at each other with wide eyes before they slowly made their way down the hall and into the living room. At the front door stood two tall MACUSA officers, both wearing long brown trench coats, suit pants, white button ups, and ties. The woman was shorter, having red hair loosely pulled back into a pony tail, and a striking pale complexion. The man was taller, his skin was very dark and he wore rectangular glasses, making his expression hard to read.

“Have a seat, you two,” the man said, gesturing to the couch in the living room.

The twins sat down slowly, wary of making the wrong move. Their father joined them on the couch, while the two officers sat on the opposing lounge chairs.

The red-haired woman cleared her throat. “My name is Officer Wendy Clark. Myself and my partner Officer Jamar Wilson are from the Improper Use of Magic department at the MACUSA.” Mr. Jackson snapped his head to look at his kids. While he was a Nomaj, he still understood what the rules were. The woman continued, “Do you know why we’re here today?”

Both Fiona and Apollo stared blankly at the officers. Of course they knew why they were there, but they weren’t going to outright admit it. Not yet, at least.

Officer Wilson sighed, unlatching his brief case on the coffee table as he pulled paper work, placing it on the coffee table. “According to our sources,” he read, “On Sunday, August thirteenth, nineteen-ninety-five, at precisely one-sixteen AM, Apollo Eugene Jackson flew a Nimbus 2000 outside the agreed limits of one-six-eight-two Euclid Street Batesburgh, South Carolina. On the same date, at precisely one-forty-eight AM at Club Roadie’s in Columbia, South Carolina…” Fiona wondered if this officer was really going to go through every offense, “...two ‘Stupify’ hexes were cast by Mister Jackson on two Nomaj citizens. On the same date at precisely one-fifty at the same location…” apparently he was. Their father’s head fell into his hands. Fiona had never seen him look so angry. “...Mister Jackson and Fiona Pauline Jackson cast the ‘Obliviate’ spell on the same two Nomaj citizens. On the same date at precisely two-oh-seven AM, Mister and Miss Jackson flew a Nimbus 2000 from Columbia, South Carolina to Batesburgh, South Carolina while in the presence of a Nomaj minor.” The Officer finished, folding up the paper work and tucking it back into his briefcase, latching it tight.

“Does this sound familiar?” Clark asked.

The twins looked at each other, like they were bracing themselves for whatever may come. Apollo opened his mouth like he was to answer, but Fiona interrupted.

“It’s my fault,” she said quickly. Everyone turned to look at her. She sighed and swallowed, bracing herself to spill the truth. “Our dad was out of town this weekend, and myself and my neighbor, Nikki… the– uh– ‘Nomaj Minor,’ snuck out to Columbia to catch a concert. We were right up front and we caught the band’s attention, so they invited us into the green room to hang. I told Nikki we had to go back to make the last bus, but she was insistent. So we went… and we hung out… and they bought us drinks and…”

The memory hit her like a truck. It was like she was back in that green room, Kyle pressing her up against the wall. She was dazed even further when the memory of the green room turned into the Hogwarts quidditch pitch. Sounds of cries and screams echoing inside her head. The sight of Cedric’s body burning into her retinas.

“And?” Clark interrupted.

Fiona shook her head, shaking away the flashback. “And… the drinks we’re laced.” Fiona could feel her father stiffen. She knew he feared what she said next. “I didn’t drink any, but Nikki did. She was unconscious and the guitar player was on top of her. I shoved him off, and that’s when the bassist grabbed me and tried to force feed me the drink.”

Mr. Jackson took her hand. “You didn’t–”

“No,” Fiona interrupted, avoiding his gaze. She couldn’t look him in the eye. Not now. “That’s when Apollo arrived. He cast the spells, knocked them out, we grabbed Nikki, and got the hell out of there.”

Wilson turned to Apollo. “Is this true?”

Apollo looked at Fiona first, like he was looking for guidance on what to say. Fiona gave him a slight nod. “Yes,” he said.

Silence hovered over the living room before Clark cleared her throat. “Well, I’m sorry that happened to you, but rules are rules.” The officer pulled out two pieces of legal paper, placing them on the coffee table. “As punishment for using magic outside of school, against two Nomaj, and in the presence of a Nomaj minor, Mr. Apollo Eugene Jackson and Ms. Fiona Pauline Jackson will both be fined five-hundred dollars and are hereby expelled from Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

Fiona frowned. “Not Hogwarts?” she asked.

“That’s not our jurisdiction,” Wilson said. “If it were committed in the United Kingdom, it’d be a different story. As part of your rights as a Magical United States Citizen, you have the right to trial.” Fiona shook her head. They were in too deep. Even a great magical lawyer couldn’t get them out of this mess. Besides, she’d already confessed.

“This means I can never go back to Ilvermorny?” Apollo asked, his voice sounding small and tired.

“Unfortuntely,” Wilson answered.

“Uh, excuse me, officers,” Mr. Jackson spoke in his southern drawl. “I ain’t no wizard or nothin’, so what does that mean for me? I mean– do I need to do anything?”

“Your wife will be contacted within the week,” Clark said. “We know she’s overseas, so we figured we’d let you get to her first.”

Mr. Jackson nodded slowly, looking smaller than usual.

“That’ll be all for today,” said Clark as she stood, “Thank you for your time.”

The officers were halfway to the door when Fiona jumped off the couch.

“Wait!” she said, “What about those assholes? I mean– they tried to drug and rape us!”

“Unfortunately, that’s also not in our jurisdiction,” Clark said. “Had you made a police report, maybe something could’ve been done.”

“I couldn’t have done that,” Fiona argued. “We used magic.”

“Ms. Jackson, a word of advice,” Clark said as she stepped closer. Fiona took her in for the first time. Her eyes were big and blue, yet harsh. And her rouge lipstick looked as if it had been worn away. “Wizards and Nomaj don’t belong in the same world,” she began, “It’s too complicated. If you want to hang out with Nomaj, that’s fine, but expect to behave like a Nomaj: No Magic. So if that’s the case, I’d recommend taking up some self defense classes before hanging out with more people like Nikki and her friends.” The officer took one more look around the house and made for the door. “Thank you for your time.” Before Fiona could say more, Clark and Wilson had already apparated out of the house.

Fiona stood there, unable to move. Her family was apparently unable to as well. All that could be heard was the grandfather clock, ticking away, and the occasional tweet from Berty, their owl.

Apollo finally spoke. “I’ll never see my friends again.”

Fiona turned to look at him. He remained on the couch, his head hanging low as he stared at his shoes. “Apollo…” she said, stepping forward to come to Apollo’s aid. He stood quickly, avoiding her consolation and marching straight towards his room. She turned to look at her father, who remained sitting on the couch. “Daddy?” she whispered.

“Don’t,” he said, avoiding her gaze. “I have to call Mama.” He stood, looking around for the phone that wasn’t on its hook. “You know she’s gonna lose her head,” he added. “I- I have to be calm.”

“But Dad–”

“No, Fiona,” he said, putting his hand up to stop her, finally looking at her. “Go to your room.”

Mrs. Jackson came by floo powder that night, leaving no ounce of fury back in London. Fiona hadn’t seen her that mad in ages. No one was spared. Fiona felt guilty as her father sat there and took her mother’s rage. It wasn’t his fault, but her mother found a way to somehow make it partially his. In the end, it was Fiona who faced the brunt of it.

“...I mean, I don’t know what’s gotten into you!” Her mother said, yelling at Fiona in the living room. “You were my good child. I could rely on you for anything!”

“Oh, and what am I?” Apollo spat, “Chopped liver?”

“No, but I’ll tell you, Apollo,” she replied, pointing an accusatory finger, “You were getting pretty close last summer!”

“Mom, honestly!” Fiona interrupted, “What were we to do? I was about to get raped!”

“You call the cops!” she yelled back, throwing her hands out to the side. “You call the god damn cops! I’ve told y’all this so many times! If you get into trouble, call the police, don’t use your wand. I mean – I’ve been telling y’all this since you were five!” Mrs. Jackson breathed heavily, waiting for one of her children to reply, but none of them did. Her eyes glanced between the twins before her eyes narrowed in on Apollo. “Apollo, how was it you knew where they were?”

He looked up at her. “She told me they were going to Roadies.”

“No,” she said with a wild smile. “How did you know exactly where they were?”

Apollo bit his lip. Fiona made glances at him, trying to convince him not to say, but he ignored her, pulling out the charm bracelet from his pocket.

“What’s this?” Mrs. Jackson said, snatching the bracelet out from his hand.

“Katie gave it to me,” Fiona answered. “It’s charmed. It’ll tell you where anyone is if you just ask it.”

Mrs. Jackson put the bracelet in her pocket. “You won’t need this until you go back to Hogwarts.”

“So we get to go back?” Fiona asked, a tinge of excitement escaping through her voice.

“Of course you do!” Mrs. Jackson exclaimed, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “You ain’t got nowhere else to go!” Mrs. Jackson didn’t have more to say as she went into her room.

Her father, still sitting at the kitchen counter, spoke quietly. “Fiona, you are not to see that girl, Nikki, again.”

“But Dad–”

“No,” he interrupted. “That’s final.”

Chapter Text

As part of their punishment, Mrs. Jackson brought Fiona and Apollo back with her to London. Neither of them really cared whether they stayed in South Carolina or not. Either way, they’d be bored...

Apollo had completely gone with no communication for two weeks. He wouldn’t talk to Fiona and he wouldn’t talk to Mrs. Jackson. He only read. While Fiona was talking to her mother, and at least trying with Apollo, she was doing about the same. Her mother had taken all of her indulgences, even her Walkman and her tapes. She wasn’t really allowed to go out unless it was for school. But even that took some convincing.

It was only a few weeks before school and they needed books, so Mrs. Jackson let Fiona and Apollo go into Diagon Alley. Apollo still wasn’t talking, and Fiona just accepted it. She didn’t try to engage in conversation. If she needed him to know something, she’d just say it not expecting a response.

“Meet back here in an hour?” she said as she handed him a couple Galleons. Apollo said nothing, turning on his heel and walking into the broom shop. Fiona sighed as she watched him leave, wondering where his camaraderie went. He was so willing to ride and die for his twin, but now that he’d faced the consequences, he’s suddenly forgotten about it.

Fiona walked around the bookshop, pulling everything she’d need for her upcoming classes.She decided she’d take Care of Magical Creatures and Divination again. Trelawney may be batshit, but she could maybe help with Fiona’s premonitions. Four Galleons spent on her books, Fiona had a few Sickles and Knuts left over. She’d been cooped up in the apartment for a week and a half, and since her mother had already let her out, she decided to get a treat at a frilly cafe down the alley. She walked in, taking a gander at their drink and pastry options when someone called her name. She turned around, looking for who it could be when she spotted the red head she’d been ignoring all summer. George stood up, jogging over to where Fiona stood in line and pulling her into a tight hug.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be here for another week!” He was so excited, he was almost out of breath as he spoke. Fiona wondered if the tiny jog over really tired him out.

“Mom wanted us to come earlier,” she said through a forced smile.

“How come?” He asked, unawares.

Fiona searched around for the right words. “Reasons,” she said. George frowned like it wasn’t enough info. Fiona sighed. “I got into some trouble this summer.”

George raised his eyebrows. “I know about trouble,” he said with a grin. “Grab a drink and come sit with us. Would love to hear about the trouble you got in.”

Fiona nodded, leaning over to see who else was at the table. Fred waved, sitting next to his younger sister who smiled coyly. Fiona got her tea and walked over to the Weasleys, who appeared to be sharing a mountain of sweets.

“Hi Fred,” she said as she sat down.

“Fiona, you’ve met our sister, Ginny, haven’t you?” Fred said, giving his little sister a nudge.

“Yes,” Fiona smiled, “she warned me never to buy your products.”

George gasped dramatically. “Ginny!” he said, “Is that true?”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “I was doing her a favor.”

“I’ll have you know that our products have improved greatly,” Fred said as he turned up his nose.

“Oh yes,” Ginny sighed, “I know.”

“So,” George said, leaning over to Fiona. “What’s this ‘trouble’ you were telling me about?”

Fiona forced another smile as she contemplated telling the truth. What the hell, she thought to herself. “I got expelled from Ilvermorny,” she said nonchalantly.

“Wot?” Fred said. Ginny’s eyebrows went high, and George simply sat stunned.

“Both me and Apollo, actually,” she added before taking a sip of her drink.

“W-what’d you do?” George asked.

Fiona swallowed. “We cast hexes on muggles.” The table went quiet. “Well, actually Apollo did. I only cast an ‘obliviate’ spell.”

“Merlin, Jackson,” Fred said. “Is that all?”

“No, actually, we flew the Nimbus 2000 thirty-five miles with an unconscious muggle… My neighbor.” Fiona felt like she might actually start laughing. In fact, she couldn’t help it, but she did. She was almost hysterical. Everyone else at the table started to laugh too.

“Funny, Fiona,” Fred said.

Fiona laughed even harder. “I’m not joking!”

The snickers suddenly faded and George leaned towards Fiona.

“Er, Jackson,” he said, “You’re still going to Hogwarts, yeah?”

Her laughing slowed and she caught her breath. “Yeah,” she said. George sat back, a little more at ease. “Anyway, that was my summer. What did y’all do?”

The Weasleys looked at one another, almost like they were communicating telepathically.

“Well,” George began, “I told you mum’s got this new job…” Fiona nodded. “So we’ve been staying at our... “

“Family friend’s,” Ginny finished.

“Yeah,” George said as he watched his sister. “So we’re right in London. It’s been loads of fun. Was even able to catch a quidditch game with Alicia and Katie.”

"Without Mom knowing," Ginny added under her breath. George Nudged her.

“What’s calling you to Diagon Alley today?” Fiona asked, trying to ignore the weirdness between the Weasley siblings.

“Harry’s come to stay with us,” Fred said. “But ever since the Tournament…”

“He hasn’t been feeling well,” Ginny finished again. “Today, we just wanted to give him some space. There’s so many Weasleys and only one Harry. I’m sure it can feel a bit…”

“Crowded?” Fiona finished that time.

There was an awkward tension at the table now, all of them sipping their drinks to fill the silence.

“Well,” Fiona said, slowly standing from the table. “I told Apollo I’d meet him, so I should go. I’ll see y’all on the train?” Without waiting for their goodbyes, Fiona made for the door. There was a mysterious tension between the siblings and didn't feel like trying to figure out what it all meant. She darted back towards the alley, but George followed her out, stopping her in the street.

“Listen, Jackson,” he said as he held her back. She looked up at him, noticing a worried glimmer in his eye. “It seems like a lot’s happened to you this summer and… I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

Fiona hesitated, a little taken back by his sudden concern. “I will be,” she smiled, more for George’s comfort than her own. “I’ll see you at school.”

…

After another few weeks of boredom, the day had come for Fiona and Apollo to return to Hogwarts. Fiona simply couldn’t wait. While her prior interaction with Fred and George had been a bit odd, she was hoping to come back with a new perspective. She’d had all her fun and rule-breaking through the summer, she’d released all of her pent up angst, she’d worked through her traumas… Well, she hadn’t, actually. But she was hoping more positive and healthy distraction would help. And, after all, she’d never been happier than when she was at Hogwarts.

Fiona woke the morning of September first ready to turn it all around. She spent an hour in the bathroom primping, coiling her curly hair with her fingers until she found perfection. Afterwards she found her favorite shaggy sweater that she’d stored for the summer.

Her mother had hardened over the summer, and it wasn’t just because her kids got expelled. Each night Mrs. Jackson returned to the apartment, she was more and more agitated, blowing up at the smallest accidental inconvenience her children managed. Fiona and Apollo hid in their room most days. The year before, that would’ve been hard since they drove each other crazy. But this year, it was easy. Especially since Apollo wasn’t talking to anyone.

“Kids,” Mrs Jackson called from the kitchen, “Hurry up! Lord knows I’m not taking you to school if you miss the damn train.”

Fiona sighed deeply as she packed up the last of her things, sitting on her trunk to latch it. Lately, she felt as though Mrs. Jackson expected nothing but the worst of her: missing the train, failing her classes, not cleaning up after dinner. None of these Fiona had the intention of doing, but for whatever reason, her mother thought she did.

From her room, Fiona rolled out her trunk.

“Finally,” her mother said, “let’s go.”

The tube ride to Kings Cross felt busier than it had been the year before. Fiona felt a bit suffocated as she sat next to her family, watching the muggle business men and women load and unload as they pulled to each station. A thirty minute train ride later, they were at King’s Cross Station. Fiona didn’t wait for her family to get situated. She threw her trunk onto a cart, and made through the wall, straight to Platform 9 ¾ where she nearly ran into Lee.

“Woah!” he said, throwing his hands up to slow Fiona down. “The train’s still here, Jackson!”

“Lee!” she said as she slammed the breaks. She pulled him in for a tight hug. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

Lee laughed. “Alright, there Fiona?” he asked as he parted.
Fiona ran her fingers through her hair. “I’ve been locked away all summer.” Lee raised his eyebrows, attempting to make sense of what she said. “I got into some trouble,” she said in a low voice. Lee nodded slowly, but asked no questions. She always liked that about Lee. He never pressed.

“Fiona,” said Mrs. Jackson, who had just caught up with her, Apollo by her side. She glanced over her daughter to see Lee, who stood with his usual grin. “Who’s this?”

“This is my friend, Lee,” Fiona answered begrudgingly. She didn’t want her friends to become acquainted with her mother. “Lee, this is my mother.”

Her mother smiled at Lee. Fiona hadn’t seen her smile since they returned to the UK. “It’s a pleasure to meet my daughters' school friends,” she said, sticking her hand out for a shake. “After this summer, I was hopeful Fiona might have some better friends.”

“Mom,” Fiona said quickly. Lee continued to smile, though you could see the confusion flicker across her face.

“Right,” Lee added, looking rather nervous. “I’ll see you on the train, Jackson.” He left Fiona with her family.

“Was that necessary?” Fiona asked her mother, who was rummaging through her giant purse.

“This is all your doing,” she replied without looking up, still moving things around in her bag. “I can’t trust you anymore, let alone the friends you made.”

Finally, Mrs. Jackson pulled up her children's wands, hesitantly handing them to Fiona and Apollo. Fiona took her wand, inspecting it to see it had received no damage.

“You’re lucky I’m giving these back to you,” Mrs. Jackson said in a low voice. “If I hear one word about either of you misbehaving this year, I will pull you out of school.”

Fiona looked at her mother, taking in the words she already knew to be a bluff. There was no way that would happen. Their mother would have to teach them and she was the bread winner in the family. There’s no way they could afford that. Still, Fiona didn’t push it.

“Okay,” she said, kissing her mother goodbye. “See you for Christmas," Fiona said before taking herself and her luggage to the train.

She couldn’t deny she got into deep shit over the summer. School expulsion was no joke. Sure it was Ilvermorny, a school she had no interest in returning to, but putting the consequences aside Fiona couldn’t deny almost getting sexually assaulted was incredibly dangerous. Had Apollo not been there, she wasn’t sure what would’ve happened.

“Jackson!” a shrill voice called from one of the compartments. Fiona made a double take to find her roommates, Lucy, Katie, and Gemma, all getting settled inside.

Fiona couldn’t help but smile, darting into the compartment to hug her friends tightly. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed all of them until she saw their faces. Lucy had got a tan over the summer, saying the beaches in Spain were spectacular. Gemma had saved up a ton of money from her market job, hoping to buy everyone a couple butterbeers at their first Hogsmeade outing. And Katie was filled to the brim with excitement, having met some of her quidditch idols from the Holly Head Harpies team.

“What about you?” Katie asked anxiously, sitting across from Fiona.

“Yeah!” Lucy added, “I didn’t hear much from you at all!”

“Ye’v been up to a lot, then, yeah?” Gemma asked.

“I’m sorry I didn’t write much,” she said, anxiously running her fingers through her hair. “I’ve had kind of a… weird summer.” She could kill for a cigarette right now.

“Tell us!” Lucy encouraged.

Fiona bit her lip before telling them everything. By the end, her roommates were silent and Lucy’s jaw was nearly on the floor.

After a few more moments of quiet, Katie finally spoke. “You alright?” she asked, her brow furrowed.

“I’m here aren’t I?” Fiona tried to brush it off.

“No, Jackson,” Katie pressed. “You were assaulted by those dicks.”

“Yeah,” Lucy added, “Who cares if you were expelled!”

“My mom,” Fiona scoffed, looking out the window at the houses and farms that sped past.

“Well your mum’s an idiot,” Lucy said, crossing her arms.

“Luc,” Gemma said in a low voice, “Ye canny speak like that about someone’s mum.”

“Sure I can,” she replied, her nose in the air. “I mean, did your mum ever once ask you if you were okay?”

Fiona thought for a moment, recalling being screamed at in her living room. “No, she hadn’t.”

“Well, then, I stand by what I said.” Lucy said with a proud smirk.

Since this was Fiona’s second year, she no longer needed to get to the castle by boat. Instead, she rode with her roommates in self-drawn carriages. It was a rocky voyage to the castle, so much so Fiona was beginning to feel a bit sick. But all feelings of illness subsided as they arrived at the front of the Great Entrance. As she stepped into the stone castle, Fiona took in a deep breath. The air was cool and crisp, triggering a memory of happiness and releasing any tension she had built up over the summer. Together, the girls made their way to the Great Hall where they would have the first feast of the year.

“Katie!” a girl called from the Hufflepuff table. Leanne came running over, pulling Katie into a tight hug. Fiona watched them peel away, following Lucy and Gemma to the Gryffindor table. They were close to being the first ones there, taking their time as they picked a spot at the long table.

They settled into their spots, Fiona’s stomach rumbling with hunger as they waited for their plates to fill. Great Hall was the same as she’d left it: the ceiling reflecting the night sky, the candles floating midair, the air buzzing with excitement. Fiona felt a knot unravelling in her shoulder. She felt at ease.

“Oi!” A voice called from across the hall. Fiona turned to see Angelina, a great big smile on her face as she made her way to the Gryffindor table.

A wide smile stretched across Fiona’s face as she jumped from her seat, rushing to meet Angelina with a great big hug.

“I’ve missed you so much!” Angelina said, squeezing Fiona tight.

Fiona returned the squeeze. “You’ve no idea!” Fiona replied. She hadn’t realized it until seeing Angelina’s face, but Fiona missed her a lot and she was more than thankful to be back with her friends. Fiona pulled Angelina to sit with her and her roommates, all catching up on their summers, Fiona omitting the wild excursion she got expelled for. No, that would be a story for another time.

After a few moments of catching up, McGonagall entered the hall with the sorting hat. Fiona forgot there would be new students this year. The Great Hall quieted as the Hat began its song.

In times of old when I was new
And Hogwarts barely started
The founders of our noble school
Thought never to be parted:
United by a common goal,
They had the selfsame yearning,
To make the world’s best magic school
And pass along their learning.
“Together we will build and teach!”
The four good friends decided
And never did they dream that they
Might someday be divided,
For were there such friends anywhere
As Slytherin and Gryffndor?
Unless it was the second pair
Of Huffepuff and Ravenclaw?
So how could it have gone so wrong?
How could such friendships fail?
Why, I was there and so can tell
The whole sad, sorry tale.
Said Slytherin, “We’ll teach just those
Whose ancestry is purest.”
Said Ravenclaw, “We’ll teach those whose
Intelligence is surest.”
Said Gryffindor, “We’ll teach all those
With brave deeds to their name,”
Said Hufflepuff, “I’ll teach the lot,
And treat them just the same.”
These differences caused little strife
When first they came to light,
For each of the four founders had
A House in which they might
Take only those they wanted, so,
For instance, Slytherin
Took only pure-blood wizards
Of great cunning, just like him,
And only those of sharpest mind
Were taught by Ravenclaw
While the bravest and the boldest
Went to daring Gryffindor.
Good Hufflepuff she took the rest,
And taught them all she knew,
Thus the Houses and their founders
Retained friendships firm and true.
So Hogwarts worked in harmony
For several happy years,
But then discord crept among us
Feeding on our faults and fears.
The Houses that, like pillars four,
Had once held up our school,
Now turned upon each other and,
Divided, sought to rule.
And for a while it seemed the school
Must meet an early end,
What with dueling and with fighting
And the clash of friend on friend
And at last there came a morning
When old Slytherin departed
And though the fighting then died out
He left us quite downhearted.
And never since the founders four
Were whittled down to three
Have the Houses been united
As they once were meant to be.
And now the Sorting Hat is here
And you all know the score:
I sort you into Houses
Because that is what I’m for,
But this year I’ll go further,
Listen closely to my song:
Though condemned I am to split you
Still I worry that it’s wrong,
Though I must fulfill my duty
And must quarter every year
Still I wonder whether sorting
May not bring the end I fear.
Oh, know the perils, read the signs,
The warning history shows,
For our Hogwarts is in danger
From external, deadly foes
And we must unite inside her
Or we’ll crumble from within.
I have told you, I have warned you. . . .
Let the Sorting now begin.

The students applauded, though Fiona noted their confused expressions and the way they murmured to one another. She looked at her friends, who too looked confused.

“That was a bit odd, don’t you think?” Katie said as she continued to clap slowly.

“How do you mean?” Fiona asked.

“It’s never sung anything like that before,” Angelina explained. “It almost sounded like…”

“A threat?” Lucy asked.

“No,” Gemma interrupted. “A warning, more like.”

The girls gave each other concerning glances as the applause died down and McGonagall returned to the front. The night continued with the sorting, many scared-looking first years being categorized by the hat that may or may not have just threatened them. After a while, the last first year was sorted and Dumbledore came to the front.

“To our newcomers,” said Dumbledore, his arms stretched wide as he addressed the hall, “welcome! To our old hands — welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!”

At last, a delicious meal appeared on the plate before them. Fiona didn’t hesitate before she did as Dumbledore ordered. The conversation lulled as her roommates, too, “tucked in.” Fiona assumed it must have been a long day for the lot. They ate quickly, and it was only moments before Dumbledore cleared his throat again.

“Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices,” said Dumbledore. “First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students — and a few of our older students ought to know by now too.”

“Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch’s office door.

“We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the —”

Fiona’s eyes were drawn to a sudden movement from the staff table. A tiny woman, dressed in all pink, cleared her throat as she approached Dumbledore.

“Who’s the broad?” Lucy whispered.

“I think that’s Umbridge,” Gemma answered.

“Thank you, Headmaster,” said Professor Umbridge, “for those kind words of welcome.”

Fiona cringed at the sound of her voice. Never had she heard a woman’s voice so high-pitched before.

“Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!” the little woman continued, revealing very pointed teeth. “And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!” Fiona’s eyes flickered to her roommates, who were cringing just as she was. “I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I’m sure we’ll be very good friends!”

Umbridge cleared her throat again, revealing a more stern tone as she spoke. “The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching.” She bowed towards the other staff members, but Fiona felt it more forced than genuine

“Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress’s sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited.”

Professor Umbridge sat back down, the crowd of students stunned into silence. Finally, Dumbledore clapped, leading the staggered applause that followed.

“‘Bloody hell was that all about?” Angelina asked underneath the applause. Fiona only shrugged. She herself was still digesting it all.

“Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating,” he said, bowing to her. “Now — as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held next Tuesday evening for all houses!”

Fiona perked up at that. She, herself, wasn’t the most interested in quidditch, but Apollo would be. Maybe then he’d finally lift himself up.

After Dumbledore completed his announcements, the girls left for the common room where the Weasley’s were. Her heart jumped as their eyes met. George looked at her with his beautiful blue eyes, a suppressed grin stretching across his face. She waved, prepared to go over and meet him but was pulled away by Lucy who was eager to chat with her.

“I can’t believe nearly everyone is back this year!” she said in an urgent, yet hushed tone. Fiona frowned, confused by what she meant. “Didn’t you hear?”

“Hear what?” she asked.

Lucy tisked. “Apparently people think that Harry and Dumbledore are crazy.”

“Huh?” Fiona asked. She hadn’t heard of this controversy, in fact, she didn’t even know there was one.

“It’s a whole thing,” Lucy said as she took Fiona’s arm under hers and pulled her up the stairs towards the dormitory. “People think they’re propaganda pushers. Well, parents mostly, but the students are just following suit… you know how it is.”

Fiona snickered. Not because the subject was humorous but because of the way Lucy was talking about it. Serious subjects were always like some hot piece of gossip for Lucy. And, no matter how serious the topic, she seemed a little excited every time.

Fiona entered her dormitory, comforted by how nothing had changed from when she’d left it. Before even unpacking, she bellyflopped onto her bed, cherishing its cushiony comfort.
“And to think you missed us at all,” said Lucy

“When really it’s just been that bed, you’ve missed,” added Katie.

“I have missed you,” Fiona replied as she sat up. She grinned. “But I really have missed this bed."

Chapter Text

The next morning, Fiona and her roommates made their way down to the common room where a few friend groups resided. Harry was there with his friends Ron and Hermione, of whom were just made prefects. Hermione had just taken down a sign on the bulletin, crumpling it and attempting to toss it into the bin. She missed, nearly hitting Fiona in the head. Fiona picked up the crumpled paper that laid by her feet, unraveling it to read the announcement.

“Wot’s this?” Katie asked..

Fiona smiled, “Some sort of notice.”

GALLONS OF GALLEONS!
Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings?
Like to earn a little extra gold? Contact Fred and George Weasley,
Gryffindor common room, for simple, part-time, virtually painless jobs
(WE REGRET THAT ALL WORK IS UNDERTAKEN AT APPLICANT’S OWN RISK)

“Seems like the Weasleys are up to no good again,” she continued, crumpling the paper back up and putting it in the bin like Hermione intended.

“Per usual,” Lucy said.

The girls mozied their way to the Great Hall where they’d have their first breakfast of the school year and receive their time tables. To their delight, the tables were dressed with platters of french toast, eggs, ham, and bacon. Fiona, her mouth watering at the sight, didn’t hesitate to serve herself a full plate. After she finished her plate, she scanned the Great Hall for her favorite red heads, but only saw their younger brother and Ginny.

“Miss Jackson,” McGonagal said, snapping Fiona out of her surveillance. “Your times table.” The old witch held out a parchment, Fiona smiling sheepishly as she took it.

“Christ,” Fiona said as she perused the parchment, “I’ve got Divination to start.”

“I thought you liked Divination,” Katie replied, still working on her french toast.

“I do,” Fiona said, placing the time table down, “just don’t know if I can handle Trelawney first thing in the morning.”

“You’ll just be getting it over with, then,” Gemma added.

Lucy interrupted, “Of course they’re late to breakfast on the first day of classes.” She nodded her head at the entrance, Fiona following her gaze.

The Weasley’s had finally arrived, walking along the Gryffindor table. George’s eyes met Fiona’s, they both smiled at each other. George lifted his hand like he meant to wave, but was quickly pulled into a seat by Fred, who was already deep in conversation with Ron. A frown flickered on Fiona’s forehead, disappointed by his inability to talk to her yet. But maybe that was her own doing. She hadn’t exactly been the most pleasant or engaging the last time they spoke.

Fiona checked her watch to see it was almost time for her first class. “I should go,” she said as she collected her things. “See you at DADA?” Her roommates nodded and waved goodbye. Fiona walked by Fred and George, who were still sitting with Ron and his friends. Fiona and George locked eyes for only a moment as she passed, Fiona unable to hold in a grin.

Her heart settled as she made her way to Divination. It would likely be a relaxing class, the incense always calmed her nerves. Trelawney had them read tea leaves for the first few minutes to best refresh their memories, Fiona reading the girl who sat across from her.

“Rough summer?” Fiona asked, as she looked into the cup.

The girl, a Hufflepuff, sat stunned. “Yes,” she finally replied. Her hair a light brown, laid in a long ponytail across her shoulder.

Suddenly, a musty smell quaffed under Fiona’s nose. “Stuck at your grandmother's?”

“Er–” the girl looked even more stunned, “Yes.” Fiona smiled, mindlessly handing back the cup as she wrote down her findings. The girl looked into the cup for a moment, before speaking again. “How could you tell?”

“Hmm?” Fiona replied as she looked up.

“How could you tell all of that from…” she lifted up the cup, “this?”

Fiona put her quill down, taking back the cup, but revealing the bottom so the girl could see. “Look,” she said as she pointed into the cup, “It’s a chain. See how the leaves intertwine?” The girl nodded. “You were stuck. And then,” she added as she pointed to a different section, “there’s a venus symbol. And see it’s all wrinkled?” the girl nodded again. “It’s an older lady. Your grandmother.” The girl took back the cup, looking deeply into it. “Besides, I could smell her too.”

“Smell her?” the girl frowned. Fiona shrugged, eager to return to her writings. A moment passed. “What was your name again?”

“Fiona,” She replied with a flat smile. “Fiona Jackson.”

“Athena,” the girl added, sticking her hand out for a shake. Fiona took it, holding it for only a moment before she gave her cup to Athena.

“Your turn,” she said.

“Right, okay,” Athena said as she looked deep into the cup, rotating it side to side. “I see a… chicken?”

“Chicken?” Fiona repeated.

“Er… Yeah,” Athena said as she bit her lip. “Are you feeling particularly scared?”

“Not at the moment,” Fiona replied, looking around the room.

Athena sighed. “Then I don’t know,” she said, placing the cup down. “Perhaps you’ll have chicken for lunch, then.”

Fiona laughed at that. “Perhaps I will.”

“Look, I’m proper rubbish with this stuff,” Athena said sheepishly. “My mum’s a natural, she really wanted me to give it a go.” Fiona nodded, listening intently. “Would you maybe be willing to help me?”

“Oh,” Fiona replied. It was their first day and already she had been enlisted as a tutor.

“Not with everything of course… just maybe certain premonition readings. Like tea leaves and crystal ball readings?”

“Sure,” Fiona said, forcing a smile. “I’d be happy to help.”

After two hours of having to reteach the lesson to Athena, Fiona made her way back to the common room to relax before lunch. She had an hour to spare before lunch could even be served, so she opened up her copy of The Great Gatsby – one her father snuck her – sitting on the red couch. She sunk into its cushion, already sucked into the sagacious sentences on the pages.

“Oi!” a voice blared in her ear. Fiona jumped, throwing her book into the air, it tumbling onto the floor by her feet. George clutched his stomach, laughing heartily. “Did I get you?” he asked as he sat on the couch next to her.

“What the hell, George!” Fiona exclaimed, leaning over to snatch her book off the floor. “Can’t you see I’m trying to read?”

“Blimey, you sound like Hermione,” he replied with a grin. “What’re you reading anyway?”

“Muggle book,” Fiona said, sighing as she attempted to find her last place in the book.

“What’s it about,” George asked as he leaned over her shoulder.

“Nothing you’d understand,” she snipped.

George did a low whistle and shook his head. “Fiesty today.”

“Maybe,” Fiona replied, suppressing a grin.

“So, have you had DADA yet?” George asked.

Fiona shut her book. There would be no returning to it until George decided to stop pestering her. “Nope, that’s after lunch for me.”

“Well, she’s mental,” he rolled his eyes.

“Who? “Umbridge?” George nodded. “How?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” George said with a humored look. “I’m surprised Fred and I didn’t leave with detention.”

“You could feel that way with any teacher,” she replied as she mindlessly thumbed the pages of her book

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved. “I’m telling you, she’s mental.”

“If you say so.”

“Seems we can never get a normal DADA professor.”

A memory flashed before Fiona’s eyes. “Hey,” she said as she turned to look at him. She hadn’t even noticed, he’d put his arm around her. She tried to ignore it, but her heart raced at the sight. “We made a bet last year.”

George frowned, pretending to recall. “We did?”

“Yes,” Fiona said, adjusting her seat on the couch to face him. “You bet that Moody would make it to the next year.”

“I did?” Fiona frowned. George chuckled. “Alright, I did. How much do I owe you?”

“Fifteen,” she replied with a winning grin.

George smirked, leaning forward to pull the wallet out of his back pocket. The wallet was practically bursting at the seams, so much wizard cash was stashed inside.

“Good God, George,” Fiona said, her gaze flashing between the wallet and his eyes. “Business is really booming, isn’t it?”

George smiled sheepishly, pulling out a few galleons from his wallet before hiding it away in his back pocket. “You could say that,” he said, handing over the coins.

Fiona pocketed the coins, taking in her new perspective of George. Had he always been this loaded? Did he suddenly come into money? Or had business really been that good over the summer? She decided she would never know. George, while unashamed of his current wealth, didn’t seem like he wanted to boast about it.

“You want to make a bet about Umbridge, too?” she said with a cunning grin.

George smiled and raised his eyebrows. “You’re funny.”

“So they say,” she replied, jokingly flipping her curly hair over her shoulder. She checked her watch to see that lunch had already been served. “It’s lunch now. Care to join?”

“I promised Fred I’d meet him,” He said as he too checked his watch. “Next time?”

“Sure,” she smiled as she grabbed her bags, her gaze lingering on his for a little longer before she made it through the portrait hole.

Fiona ate her lunch alone, which, in the moment, was what she preferred. There weren’t many students there either, likely busy with their first day of the term. A few Ravenclaws fifth years had already cracked open their books. As she sat down at one of the dark oak tables, Fiona couldn’t fathom studying on the first day. There was too much to think about. Like her interaction with George, for example.

She hadn’t expected her body to react to George’s sudden closeness, let alone before her brain could. She thought she was over him. Afterall, she ignored him all summer, and she was sure any ounce of feelings she had for him were gone. But maybe they weren’t. Maybe it was because he flirted with her? Had she flirted back? Fiona shook her head before taking the final bite of her chicken sandwich. Would she be mulling over these recurring thoughts the whole year? Fed up with herself, Fiona wiped her mouth with her napkin, grabbed her bag, and made her way to Defence Against the Dark Arts.

She waited outside the classroom as the third years finished their lecture. Katie eventually found her, catching up with Fiona on her elective course that morning. Finally, the bell rang, and the third years exited the classroom looking smaller than usual. Many of them protectively clutched their books to their chests. One looked so disheveled, his hair laying messily across his head.

“What the bloody hell happened in there?” Katie asked, her eyes wide as she looked down at the passing third years.

“George mentioned she’s mental,” Fiona responded, peeking into the room to see if she was in there.

Professor Umbridge sat down at her desk, delicately placing her small glasses at the end of her nose as she read a parchment. After the room emptied, Fiona and Katie entered. They sat quietly at the back of the room, cautiously watching both the professor and the unsuspecting students that entered. Apollo entered, his eyes locking with Fiona’s before he quickly looked away. By the time one o’clock hit, most of the students were in their seats except for one. Umbridge stood and was about to address the class before Lucy barged in.

“Sorry!” She said as she sped past the plump pink professor. Lucy took a seat right in front of Fiona.

“Tardiness is not tolerated in my classroom,” Umbridge spoke in her squeaky voice. Her hands were on her hips and her lips were pursed. Any sense of sweetness she presented the night before had vanished.

Lucy paused, confused how such a sweet sounding voice could say something snippy. “Oh, I’ve just come from Runes,” she answered, “it’s all the way across–”

“Neither,” Umbridge interrupted, “is speaking out of turn.”

Lucy frowned. Fiona couldn’t tell if she was more confused or offended. Within a snap, Umbridge’s demeanor had returned to its initial sweetness, her lips curled into a pursed smile, and her eyes batted, the inner corners creasing with the smile.

“Good afternoon, class,” she chanted.

The class mumbled in response, all taken aback by Umbridge’s extreme moodshifts.

Umbridge cocked her head and tisked. “My, my, this school certainly needs their manners fine-tuned. Let’s try it again,” she said as she held her arms out, “Good afternoon, class!”

The class returned the remark a little more confidently, but a sense of uneasiness lingered in the final consonance.

“Very good,” she said, her lips curling so much it almost looked like a sneer. “Now, let’s take a look at our attendance.”

Placing her small glasses at the end of her nose, and lifting her attendance parchment, she went down by last name alphabetical order.

“Marcus Belby?” She said, her eyes scanning the room.

“‘Ere,” the voice replied.

Umbridge removed her glasses irritably. “You will stand as I call your name,” she said.

Marcus, a thin, awkward boy, looked around uncomfortably. Finally he stood. “Here,” he said, a little clearer this time.

“Present,” Umbridge corrected.

Marcus nodded anxiously, remaining standing until Umbridge told him to sit.

Umbridge returned her glasses to her nose. “Katie Bell?”

Katie bit her cheek before standing. “Present,” she said, her voice cracking as she spoke.

Umbridge curled back her lips in an attempt to smile at Kate. Katie, however, didn’t return one.

The pink professor continued down the list; Eddie Carmichael, Cho Chang, Marietta Edgecombe, and Carl Hopkins, all awkwardly announcing their presence.

“Apollo Jackson?” Umbridge spoke. Fiona jumped at the name like it was her own. She glanced around the room, waiting to see Apollo appear above the desks. Her gaze honed in on Apollo, who remained seated at his desk by the window.

“Apollo Jackson?” Umbridge spoke again, a little clearer.

“Here,” he finally replied, remaining seated. The students around him shifted uncomfortably. Umbridge looked up, then back down at her list, then back at Apollo. She smiled at him.

“You’re Apollo Jackson?” she asked.

“S’right,” he replied. Fiona couldn’t tell what expression he wore. The backlight of the window turned him into more of a silhouette.

Umbridge’s smile deepened. “I heard quite a bit about you this summer.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” he replied, his voice less confident than before.

“No?” Umbridge squeaked, her head cocked to the side. “I heard you got into quite the bit of trouble.” Apollo sunk slightly into this seat. “You should be so grateful all of us at Hogwarts let you into its doors this year, now shouldn’t you.”

When Apollo didn't answer, Umbridge's smile widened. "It was a very hard decision to let you back into this school."

“That wasn’t up to you to decide!” A voice shouted. Fiona had moved so quickly, she hadn’t realized the voice that spoke was her own. She was now standing, surrounded by a sea of widened eyes that looked up at her. Umbridge stood a little straighter now, her smile nowhere to be seen.

“And you must be Fiona Jackson” she said loudly.

“Besides,” Fiona continued, her voice as loud as Umbridge’s, “What happened to us this summer is private!”

“Actually,” Umbridge replied quickly, her unsettling smile returning to her lips. “It’s on your public academic record.”

Fiona opened her mouth in an attempt at a rebuttal, but she couldn’t think of anything.

“You and your brother were expelled from Ilvermorny,” she began as she approached Fiona. The students stirred at that, making quiet side glances at Fiona, who remained standing. “And that sort of information, public information, is notified to every other school you attend.”

Fiona’s heart was racing now, but her eyes never left the professor’s, who was now only a foot away.

“As I said,” she continued chipperly, “You should be so glad that Hogwarts even let you back.”

Fiona’s chest rose and fell as she breathed deeply, attempting to suppress the tears of embarrassment that welled in her eyes.

“Sit down,” Umbridge said before returning to her attendance.

Unable to fight anymore, she returned to her seat avoiding the other students' eyes. All except for Apollo. He was still back lit by the window, but Fiona knew he was looking at her. It wasn’t until a flicker of pity flashed across his face that he finally looked away.

Chapter Text

Fiona was worried how her outburst in DADA would get out to the rest of the school. But to her relief, it wasn’t her the school was talking about. she found herself surrounded in the Great Hall by a low hum of murmurs about Harry Potter’s apparent outburst.

Fiona pushed the steamed vegetables around her plate, trying to drown out the buzz of gossip. But to her dismay, Lucy was adamant about sharing the news.

“He went almost ballistic, is what I heard,” Lucy said, her eyebrows high with self importance.

“How do you mean?” Katie asked in a low voice. Not that it mattered, everyone was talking about it.

“Well, he said, and I quote, ‘Voldemort killed him, and you know it.’” Lucy’s eyes were wide with disbelief. “Apparently the look on Umbridge’s face was absolutely lethal.” Lucy broke into a giggling fit, Katie joining in.

Fiona sighed heavily. She didn’t think it was funny at all. She had been on the other end of Umbridge’s wrath, and didn’t think anyone else deserved to be either. Glancing at Harry, her pity strengthened. He stared intensely at his plate, his hands shaking as they held his utensils. Lucy was still going on about what Harry said, and if Voldemort really had killed Cedric. The part that angered Fiona was how she was going about it, like it was some hot piece of tabloid gossip.

“Jesus, these are real people you’re talking about!” Fiona bellowed. She froze at her own sudden outburst, scared that the hall had heard it. But it seemed like only a small group around them heard.

Lucy frowned. “Sorry,” she said rather unapologetically. “I hadn’t realized you’d get so offended.”

“It’s not about me,” Fiona said, returning to push her vegetables around her plate.

“It’s not?” Lucy said, turning to face her, snidely leaning her head on her fist.

Fiona turned to look Lucy in the eye, hesitating at the intensity that resumed between them. “Harry and Cedric are real people who went through real things. Damn it, Cedric is dead. He’s never coming back.” Lucy sucked in her cheeks, but didn’t lower her gaze. “This isn’t some hot piece of gossip, Luc.”

When Lucy didn’t reply, Fiona turned to Katie and Gemma. They stared at her with their wide eyes, still taking in her sudden anger. Embarrassed, she grabbed her things and left the table, going straight to their dorm.

She quickly scrubbed her face clean, changed into her pajamas and crawled into the bed. She wanted to fall asleep as soon as possible, not desiring to speak to her roommates for the rest of the night.

Fiona was half-asleep when they came back into the dorm. She heard them exchange whispers and tiptoe around her bed. Trying to ignore them, she pulled the covers over her head. She was almost asleep when she felt her bed curtains pull open, the weight of someone sitting on her bed. She pulled off her covers, turning over to see Gemma on her bed, Katie and Lucy standing behind her.

“Wot’s happened?” Gemma asked.

“What?” Fiona replied groggily. “Nothing.” She sat up, pushing her hair out of her face.

“Something’s wrong,” Katie said, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “You’ve never snapped at any of us like that.” Behind her, Lucy sniffed, her arms also crossed.

“I just don’t think it’s fair to be making fun of Harry,” Fiona said truthfully. “He saw Cedric get murdered."

“How are you so sure about that?” Lucy asked.

Fiona looked at her, the intense gaze from dinner still lingering between them. She sighed. She’d been hoping she could avoid telling them about her prophetic dreams. She didn’t want them thinking she was a loon.

Fiona sighed again, licking her lips as she prepared to tell them what she’d seen. She recounted the dream she’d had, all of the symbols, all of the moments; how’d she’d gone to both Trelawney and Dumbledore to decipher it, and that Apollo walked her dream with her.

“Hold on,” Katie said, “you’re saying your brother can find you in your dreams? Consciously?”

“Uh, yeah,” Fiona said, taken aback by Katie’s sudden interest.

“No way!” Lucy said, the intensity having completely vanished from her gaze. “Can you teach us how to do that?”

“I don’t know,” she said, still processing their reaction, “I guess."

“Aye Jackson,” Gemma smiled, “that’d be cool!”

“But wait, guys,” she said suddenly, putting her hands up to slow her roommates down, “do you understand why I’m so upset?” Her roommates looked at each other cautiously. “I’m sure Harry must feel responsible for Cedric’s death! And in some ways, I do too.”

“But that’s mental,” Katie said. “How is Cedric’s death in any way your fault, or Harry’s?”

Fiona’s tears began to well. She tried to stop them, but they ran down her cheeks anyway. “Because I could have stopped it. If I’d just been smart enough,”

“Poppet,” Gemma said, taking her hand, “It’s not your fault.” More tears fell from her cheeks, staining her red bed covers even darker. “Voldemort is at fault. Only him. Not Cedric, not Harry, not you. It’s all his fault.”

“So,” Fiona sniffed, wiping her face, “you believe me?”

“Of course we do,” Lucy said. “If what Harry says is true, that Voldemort’s back, then we need each other now more than ever.” Fiona nodded, wiping away the last of her tears. Katie and Lucy joined Fiona and Gemma on the bed, joining together at the hearts center in a group hug. Fiona thought she would be able to stop crying, but it only made her cry more, bringing up more emotions than she knew she had. She decided to take a shower in an attempt to calm down, but all night she could only think of one thing, or one person.

The next day, during her free period, Fiona snuck to Hogsmeade, stashing her uniform behind Hagrid’s hut. She had walked by a pay phone in Hogsmeade before, curious if it was ever used or even worked. Fiona walked up to the pay phone, putting twenty-five pence into the machine, and placed the cold phone against her ear and her shoulder. She pulled out a folded piece of paper from her pocket, and punched the phone number. Hoping the phone would begin ringing, an operator answered.

”This is a transatlantic call,” the operator said, ”please input forty pence to continue”

“Forty pence?!” Fiona exclaimed under her breath. She dug her pocket for more, and inserted it into the machine. Finally, the phone rang.

“Hello?” a voice answered on the other side.

“Hey,” Fiona replied, a smile stretching across her face.

”Well, pull my string and call me a yo-yo,” the voice said with a laugh, “if it ain’t Fiona Jackson.”

Fiona laughed. “Hey Nikki,” she said.

“I thought you were dead!” Nikki said.

“I thought that was gonna happen after my mom found out,” Fiona said nervously.

“Oh, no,” Nikki gasped. “How much?”

“Just that I snuck out all the way to Columbia.”

“Was she mad?”

“Well, she shipped me back to London, so you could say that.” Fiona laughed in an attempt to lighten the mood, expecting Nikki to laugh too, but all that was heard on the other end was silence.

Nikki sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said, an honest tone taking over her voice.

“My dad told me I’m never allowed to speak to you again,” Fiona added lightly, though it sounded more depressing as it came out.

“Already breaking the rules,” she replied, “sucker.”

Fiona chuckled. “Yeah.” Another moment of silence hung over the phone line. “Look, I– I just wanted to call to make sure you’re okay. Everything that happened with Zack and the band…”

“I’m fine,” Nikki interrupted. “It’s happened to me before.”

“Oh,” Fiona said quietly.

“It tends to follow me.”

“What does?”

“Trouble,” Nikki said. “I don’t have the best luck and I’m not good company.”

“I think you are,” Fiona said quickly. “You made my summer… fun.”

“But your dad is right,” she said. “You’re a nice girl, Fi. Girls like you don’t belong with girls like me. Girls don’t belong with girls, anyway...”

“What?” Fiona replied. She assumed Nikki didn’t remember that night, they were pretty drunk anyway. But even then Fiona tried to drown out the faint memory of it; sitting in the culvert, drunk off Smirnoff, their lips somehow meeting and staying locked until Fiona insisted she’d needed to get home. The next morning, Nikki acted like nothing happened, so Fiona followed suit. Besides, her grandmother always said that nice southern girls don’t do things like that. They could drink, they could swear, but they couldn’t do that. Lord, help them, her grandmother would say.

“Damnit, Fi,” Nikki swore under her breath. “You’re the only one I been thinkin’ about. Not Zack, not any other ugly boy who lives in Batesburgh. You.” Fiona remained silent on the other end, unsure of what to say. “And yet, you don’t belong with a girl like me. I’m too stupid and angry and–”

“Don’t say that,” Fiona said quickly. She wanted to say more but all of her emotions sat like a fat lump in her throat. Hard to swallow. Hard to clear away.

“I’m gonna,” Nikki replied, irritation in her voice. “You go on to your fancy private school, be a good student, get straight A’s… kiss sweet boys–”

“Nikki?” Fiona tried to interrupt.

“I’ll just be the cigarette you only have when you’re drunk,” she said, bitterly, “just to take the edge off.”

“Nicole,” Fiona said, hoping saying her full name would get her attention. It didn’t work.

“Don’t worry about me,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

The line clicked and all that Fiona heard was the dial tone.

Chapter Text

Fiona couldn’t help but dwell on her phone call though she tried not to. She wanted nothing more than to sneak back down to the pay phone and give her another call– to really talk through what happened. But the more she thought about it, the more she decided calling her back wasn’t a good idea. To Fiona, Nikki left the impression that she didn’t want to talk to her again. Feeling unwilling to talk to her roommates about it, she often spent her free periods by the lake, smoking the pack she was able to smuggle before her summer-long grounding. No one knew about that either, and she preferred it that way.

She sat on the lawn by the lake under a dark afternoon sky, taking long slow drags that warmed up her insides while her outsides remained bitten by the cold. Footsteps approached her just as she took another drag. She held her breath, turning over her shoulder to see who it was. None other than George, of course. He always seemed to know when she wanted to be left alone and very much ignoring it. She tried to subtly blow out the smoke, moving the box of cigarettes to the left hip while George sat himself on the right.

“Ahhh,” he said as he made himself comfortable, “beautiful day to be sitting by the lake!” Fiona looked at him, trying to make sense of his tone. “The sun is out, the breeze is warm, I can’t believe I didn’t think to come here sooner!”

Fiona rolled her eyes. Sarcasm, of course. What else would come out of his mouth? “You don’t have to stay,” she replied, looking out onto the lake.

“Yes, but then I wouldn’t be able to have one of…” He reached over to her left side, his lips inches from hers. There eyes met and for a second Fiona thought he was going to kiss her, but he pulled away, her box of cigarettes now in his hand. “...These!”

Fiona snatched them away quickly. “That’s none of your business,” she said, trying to hide the box in her robes.

“I didn’t know you were a smoker,” he said with a smirk.

“I’m not,” she said, defensively crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Right,” George nodded. “That would explain you hiding away every afternoon to have a fag.”

“What did you just call me?” Fiona frowned.

George looked at her and laughed, the outer corners of his eyes creasing with his smile. “A fag is a cigarette. Sometimes I forget you’re a yankee.”

Fiona sniffed. She wasn’t really in the joking mood. “You’re not going to report me to dear old Umbridge, are you?”

George scrunched up his face in repulsion. “Never,” he said. “So long as you let me have a smoke too.”

Fiona turned to look at him, his beautiful grin almost encouraging her to smile. “Fine,” she said quietly as she handed him the box.

He thumbed out a cigarette, placing it in between his lips as he lit the end with his wand. He inhaled. “So,” he said before releasing the puff of smoke. “When did you start smoking?”

“This summer,” she said before relighting her cigarette and taking her own hit.

“Was a rough one it sounds like,” he added, leaning back on his hands and crossing his stretched out legs.

“How would you know?” she asked.

A light breeze picked up again, sending another chill through Fiona’s skin. She wrapped her school cloak tighter around herself.

“Word gets around,” he said. “Your introduction to Umbridge being the story.”

Fiona sighed. “I had hoped that would’ve been left buried underneath all the gossip about Harry.”

“That’s definitely circulated too. Poor bloke. Can’t even make it to quidditch try-outs ‘cos he’s in detention all the time. Angelina’s about ready to kill him.”

Fiona snickered. “You don’t have to tell me that,” she replied. Though she’d distanced herself from her friends again, even the brief moments with Angelina were enough to learn how she felt about Harry.

“So wot’s happened, then?” George asked again. Fiona could feel his eyes on her. She took a drag from her cigarette as she mulled it over. How many times would she have to tell the story?

Though she dreaded it, she told him anyway. The muggle-girl next door. The drinking. The stealing. The concert. The assault. Apollo. The broom. The expulsion. She braced herself for some quip, joke, or some slightly offensive remark from George. But it never came. Finally, when enough silence had passed, she turned to look at him. He remained leaning back on his hands, his brows knitted into a frown she couldn’t quite read.

“Sounds a bit unfair,” he said finally. “I mean, you were only protecting yourself.”

“Well, the MACUSA doesn’t care about that,” she replied matter-of-factly.

“You think you’ll be expelled forever?” he asked innocently.

Fiona frowned in both confusion and irritation. “That’s what that means, doesn’t it?”

Silence followed for another moment, until George spoke quietly. “Well, then at least we’ll have more of our Jackson.”

Fiona cracked a smile, looking back at George who grinned at her. “To your detriment,” she joked.

George gasped playfully. “Is that a threat?” he asked, still grinning.

“It is if you tell my roommates I’m a smoker,” she quipped.
“I’m not sure,” he replied as he pretended to think it through, “that’s something they should really know.”

“I’m serious!” she laughed, playfully giving his shoulder shove. “This is between you and me!”

“Alright, alright!” George threw his hands up in surrender. “Secret’s safe with me, Jackson.” Fiona smiled at him, before handing him another cigarette. “Merlin, I should be nice to you more often!”

Fiona laughed, tucking her hand back into her cloak to keep it warm.

“Tonight’s the last tryout for quidditch,” George said suddenly. “You should come!”

Fiona frowned. “Uh, I’d say it’s a little late for me to try out for quidditch…”

“No, no,” George laughed. “Come watch.”

“Watch?” Fiona asked with a short laugh.

“Yeah, you haven’t really seen us in action. Come and watch!”

“Quidditch isn’t really my thing,” she cringed.

“Fiona, quit being thick!” Her heart jumped at the sound of him saying her first name. “I’m inviting you to come and watch!”

“Oh,” she said. He remained smiling at her, the creases of his eyes never fading. “I guess it could be fun.”

George laughed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, don’t hurt yourself.” He put the butt of his cigarette out on the grass, collected his book bag, and made back for the castle. “I’ll see you tonight!” He called from behind.

Fiona snickered quietly to herself and shook her head. Damn he was good.

She couldn’t help but feel excited about going to watch the final tryouts. She even convinced Gemma and Lucy to go, which Katie was thrilled about. They bundled up in the stands, the weather growing colder as the sun began to set.

“Katie says they think they’ll take on Ron this year,” Lucy said as she rubbed her hands together in an attempt to warm them.

“Weasleys are naturally talented, they are,” Gemma added as she squinted out on to the pitch. “I’d be surprised if they don’t let Ginny on soon.”

Fiona didn’t say anything, she was too focused on George, who stood on the pitch with Ron by his side. They were deep in conversation about something, not without George giving him a playful shove.

“What inspired you to come out here?” Lucy asked.

“Hmm?” Fiona said, still distracted.

“I never knew you had an interest in quidditch,” she added with a cheeky grin.

“I think it has something to do with the redhead who’s playing,” Gemma nudged.

Fiona rolled her eyes but couldn’t help a smile. “You guys, I’m so over that.” She said, shaking her head. Lucy and Gemma looked at each other with their eyebrows raised. “It’s true we’re just friends.”

“Jackson, you might want to update him on that,” Gemma said, her eyebrows still raised.

Fiona frowned. “What do you mean?”

“He’s been talking about only you for the past week!” Lucy exclaimed. “Where’s Fiona? We should tell Fiona! Fiona would love that!”

Fiona scoffed. “He did not say that.”

“He did!” Gemma added. “Jackson, are you blind? He so fancies you!”

Fiona thought about it. He had sent her numerous letters detailing every waking moment of his summer, of which she didn’t respond. Every glimpse she caught of him he was already looking at her. It made sense.

“I’ll let him tell me if that’s the case,” she said looking back out onto the pitch. And as if on cue, George was already looking at her, waving as he mounted his broom. Lucy and Gemma reduced to excited giggles, clutching each other excitedly as Fiona returned a bashful wave.

Eager to hear who had earned a spot on the team, Fiona, Lucy, and Gemma walked to the locker rooms after the try out ended. Out came Katie and Angelina first.

“Well,” Angelina said as she came out of the large wooden door, a hint of exhaustion in her voice, “We’ve got another Weasley on the team.”

“Blimey, you’re going to have every Weasley ever born!” Lucy chuckled.

“I wonder if there’s some reward for that,”’ Gemma added.

“Tell me about it,” Katie said as she knelt down to throw her hairbrush in her quidditch bag. “Even just having the twins is more than enough. In fact, it’s like having four Weasleys on steroids!”

“Oi, that’s my bit!” Angelina remarked, her hands on her hips. “You don’t even know what steroids are, Katie.”

Katie laughed as she stood. “That’s true, I don’t.”

“Well, that’s good for Ron, then,” Lucy decided with a firm nod. “The twins are so hard on him, but maybe now he’ll stand a chance – even the playing field, you know?”

“What’s this about us being hard on our dear Ronald?” Fred said as he entered the hall from the boys locker room.

George followed. “We are no such thing!”

“Right!” Fred agreed with a grin. “Ron’s always had the chance to be even!”

“He’s just never taken it,” added George.

“Until now,” Fiona interrupted. George’s eyes flicked to Fiona’s, his grin never fading.

“Touché,” he said without blinking. Fiona couldn’t help but lose her words, distracted by the edge in his demeanor. Maybe it was the fact his hair was all messy from the wind. Or perhaps it was the dirt that darkened parts of his skin. It could also be the fact that it looked like he forgot to shave the last couple days, red stubble appearing on his chin and above his lips. She inhaled deeply.

No one spoke as everyone watched their silent interaction. That was, until Lucy interrupted. “WELP,” everyone around her jumped, “What do you say about some celebratory butter beers in the common room?”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Katie said as she made down the hall, clearly oblivious to the tension that lingered. “I’m parched!” she called from behind.

Angelina, paying attention, took Fred’s hand and pulled him away, Lucy and Gemma following with suppressed giggles.

Fiona watched her friends go, a little embarrassed at her public display of… What was it… affection? No, it couldn’t possibly be that. She tried to change the subject.

“So,” she said, to George who remained standing, his eyes gazing upon hers. “How do you feel about the new team?” She began walking down the hall, George unhesitant to follow.

“It’s hard to say,” he replied, adjusting his quidditch bag over his shoulder. “Harry hasn’t been to any of them. Don’t tell Ron I said this, but Harry’s our best player.”

Fiona snickered with a frown, confused by the remark. “Aren’t they friends?”

“Oh, best mates,” he confirmed, “It’s just,” he scratched the back of his head, further tussling his already messy hair, “Ron won’t admit this, but he’s the jealous type.”

“Really?”

George nodded, his eyebrows high. “He just about lost it when he thought Harry had put his name in the goblet. Even more so when Krum asked Hermione, whom he’s absolutely mad for, to the ball.”

Fiona smiled as she looked down at her feet. She watched them move one in front of the other on the cobblestone floor. “Still hasn’t admitted his feelings for her, huh?”

George sighed regretfully. “Unfortunately no. Doesn’t stop me from asking when the wedding invitations will go out.” He laughed to himself.

“What about you?” Fiona asked as they walked up to the portrait of the fat lady.

“What about me?” George asked, adjusting the strap of his quidditch bag.

“Are you the jealous type?” She wasn’t quite thinking when she asked that. In fact, every time she looked at George, all thoughts went out the window. Her heart was racing now.

George looked at her and swallowed. There was an intensity in his gaze as they stood in front of the portrait, like he wanted desperately to do or say something important. He opened his mouth, about to reply, when Ron opened the portrait hole.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, looking a little red in the face, “thought you were Harry. Have you seen him?”

George blinked, like he was returning to earth. “Er– no,” he said before awkwardly clearing his throat. His gaze flicked between Ron’s and Fiona’s. Ron, annoyed by Harry’s absence, walked away, leaving the portrait hole open.

“Georgie!” Fred called from inside, “Weasley Wizard Wheezes awaits!”

George flashed Fiona a weak smile. “Duty calls,” he said before entering the portrait hole.

Fiona followed, joining her friends who smiled at her giddily. She didn’t tell them anything, mostly because nothing actually happened, but more so because she wasn’t even sure of what happened. It was like a great big hormonal monster took over her and started spewing flirtatious nonsense. She felt she’d gained a good grasp now, but as she distantly locked eyes with George throughout the night, she couldn’t help but lose control again.

Chapter Text

Fiona tried to suppress the tension she shared with George but, frankly, now she was curious about these feelings. Of course she’d had them the year prior, but he had broken her heart more times than she could count. Was it really worth investigating? According to her roommates it was.

“So what did you and Weasley chat about?” Lucy asked as they dressed for breakfast the next day.

“Nothing,” Fiona said as she folded her pajamas, neatly placing them on the bed. “Ron, mostly.” She was diligent to omit the part where she asked him if he was the jealous type. She was rather embarrassed about that slip.

“Don’t tell me he’s got a crush on you too,” Katie added as she came out of the bathroom.

Fiona snickered and shook her head. “No, he fancies Hermione. Anyway, we can’t know for sure that George fancies me. He’s just being kind, is all. Probably making up for the way he treated me last year.”

“Excuses, Excuses!” Lucy said as she opened the door. “One day, you’ll see.”

Lucy and Katie made their way down the stairs for breakfast, leaving Fiona and Gemma alone.

“Jackson, what do you really think?” Gemma asked quietly.

Fiona looked at her. If there was anyone she could trust with a secret it was Gemma. “I’m not sure, honestly,” she replied as she sat on the end of her bed to lace up her shoes. “I mean he really did hurt me last year…”

“I know,” Gemma said with a disappointed look in her eye.

Fiona sighed. “I think there’s a part of me that hopes he does fancy me. And, I don’t know... He knows how to… get me.”

“Get you?”

“Like, yesterday, before try outs, he was totally flirting. And, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t help but flirt back….” Gemma nodded, frowning as she listened. “...And then, after try outs he looked so… he was so…”

“Attractive?” Gemma answered, a slight smile twitching her lips.

Fiona sighed again. “Yeah,” she said bashfully.

Gemma chuckled quietly. “If you asked me, I’d say you fancy him.” Fiona rolled her eyes. “But–” she interrupted, “it’s really up to you to decide. No matter how much Lucy wants you two to be together.” Fiona couldn’t help but laugh at that. “C’mon, let’s have breakfast.”

They caught up with Lucy and Katie in the common room, making their way down to the Great Hall. It was a full English Breakfast that morning. Fiona filled her plate silly, knowing she’d likely need a nap after all the sausage she’d eaten.

“Jackson, did you enjoy watching tryouts?” Katie asked from across the table.

“Actually, I did!” Fiona nodded.

“That’s because a certain someone was there,” Lucy, sitting next to Fiona, said under her breath. Fiona gave her a playful shove to which Lucy laughed.

“It was kind of exciting, honestly,” Fiona said before taking a sip of her coffee. “We don’t have orchestra until after Christmas so it could be a nice way to spend some free time.”

“Oh!” Katie said excitedly, “Come watch our practices! Would you take notes again? Please! Pretty please!”

Fiona laughed at Katie’s desperation. “Alright, sure,” she said.

“Yes!” Katie said as she punched her fists in the air. “Our first practice is tonight!” Fiona gave her a thumbs up, hoping it would calm her down but it only amped her up more.

There was no George in sight that day. Fiona wondered if it had to do with his Weasley Wizard Wheazes business with Fred. Every so often they’d disappear together and reemerge with a new invention. She wondered what it could be this time. Perhaps fine-tuning the nosebleed nougat and antidote they paid first years to test out the night before.

Unable to fill the day with anything else, she spent it studying for defense against the dark arts with Gemma.

“This is all bullshit,” Fiona admitted as she read the course’s text Umbridge assigned. She frowned, continuing to skim the chapter. “This is actually all bullshit!”

Gemma looked up at her, a flat pitiful smile on her face. “Looks like this is going to be the whole year.”

Fiona continued, her voice exasperated. “I mean, how are we supposed to pass these NEWTS if everything we learn is theoretical? How are we supposed to protect ourselves from people like Terence Higgs?”

Gemma shrugged. Fiona, at a boiling point, slammed her book shut and took out her transfiguration homework instead.

The common room was decently empty with most students outside. Except Hermione, who was hunched over her own textbooks. She was a bit thankful the DADA book was theoretical since she was too distracted by the thought of George. In reality she was counting down the hours till the practice. She did enjoy watching them practice, and even more so watching George. He had a certain suaveness when he flew, more so than when he’s on the ground.

They worked on homework for a little longer until the clock finally struck five, and Fiona put her pencil down.

“Got to go,” she said as she carelessly threw her homework back in her back.

“In a hurry?” Gemma asked as she looked up from her parchment.

“Uh, kinda,” she said throwing on her coat and tossing the strap of her book bag over her shoulder, “Katie really wants me to be in the stands no later than five-thirty.”

Gemma smirked. “Right, Katie said that,” she said in a suggestive tone.

Fiona frowned. “Yeah,” she lied before turning on her heel towards the portrait hole.

“Say hi to George for me!” Gemma called from behind her.

Fiona sighed and rolled her eyes as she made through the portrait hole. She wished her roommates wouldn’t give her such a hard time about who she did and didn’t like. “Slagging” is what Lucy called it.

“It’s how we show affection here,” she had said one day when Fiona didn’t take her joke particularly funny.

She made her way into the stands on the quidditch pitch, sitting herself on the front row as she took out her notebook and pen. She wasn’t alone for long. Apollo entered not far from her. Their eyes met, and Fiona frowned in confusion. This was a Gryffindor practice, wasn’t it? He walked up, sitting not far from her.

“Hi,” she said quietly. It had been a week of school, and still she hadn’t heard from him.

“Hi,” he responded.

“He speaks,” Fiona retorted.

Apollo snorted as he shook his head. “Yeah, I do,” he replied.

A silent beat passed before Fiona found the words. “Are you still mad at me?”

“I’m always mad at you,” he joked. Fiona chucked quietly, still worried she’d anger him again. Apollo continued. “But less so, now. Especially after you stood up for me in DADA.”

Fiona nodded quietly, thinking of how to reply. “Dolores is no good,” she finally said. “We need to be careful around someone like that.”

“I know,” he replied, looking down at his shoes. “I have a bad feeling about her.”

Fiona looked out onto the pitch, the low hanging clouds clearing away. “Me too.” More silence passed before she spoke again. “So why are you here to watch a Gryffindor quidditch practice?”

The corners of his mouth upturned slightly. “I, uh, made it onto the Ravenclaw quidditch team…”

Fiona gasped excitedly. “Oh that’s great!” she said. “Have you told mom?”

Apollo laughed and shook his head. “I’m scared if I tell her she’ll realize she never took my broom away and want it immediately.”

“I’m sure she’s cooled down some,” Fiona assured him.

“Still, you can never be too careful with Colleen Jackson,” he replied. Fiona laughed. “Anyway, I wanted to come out here to see how the other teams play.” Fiona nodded, looking out onto the pitch to see if the team had entered yet.

“Why are you here?” he asked. Fiona turned to look at him. “You hate quidditch.”

Fiona snorted. “Katie wants me to take notes.”

They became suddenly interrupted by another small group that wandered on to the stands. Fiona hadn’t quite recognized them. By the way Apollo stiffened at the sight of them, she knew them to be Slytherins.

Finally the team came out, flying into the air, their quidditch uniforms making them look like red birds.

“Ow! Owwwww!” one of the Slytherin boys cat-called, “here they come!”

“Aww they look so cute on their little brooms!” the Slytherin girl joked.

“What’s that Weasley’s riding?” the blond one called in a sneering drawl. “Why would anyone put a Flying Charm on a moldy old log like that?”

“Who are they?” Fiona asked Apollo.

“That’s Draco Malfoy and his little posse,” Apollo spat under his breath. “Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy.”

Fiona took them in. The blonde boy who seemed to be the groups leader Fiona assumed to be Draco. His icy blond hair was slicked back, and his nose upturned, just like Terence’s. The girl, Pansy, had cropped brown hair and a pug-like face. The other two, Crabbe and Goyle, were larger boys.

“They seem—”

“Evil?” Apollo answered prematurely. “Their parents are all death eaters. How they’re not in prison is unbeknownst to me.”

“Their parents aren’t in prison?” Fiona asked, turning to look back at Apollo.

He pressed his lips firmly together as he shook his head, his gaze fixed on the quidditch pitch. “They weaseled some way out of any sort of sentencing.”

“Rigged,” Fiona muttered under her breath.

“Tell me about it.”

“Hey, Johnson, what’s with that hairstyle anyway?” shrieked Pansy Parkinson. “Why would anyone want to look like they’ve got worms coming out of their head?”

“Woah, what the hell?” Fiona said, her head snapping to look at Pansy. She was just about to go over there when Apollo grabbed her wrist.

“Fiona, don’t,” he said.

“I can handle them,” she said trying to wriggle out of his grip.

“Don’t,” he said firmly.

Fiona sighed and sat back down. She grabbed her notebook and pen, watching as Angelina gave them directions. The team spread out across the pitch, George readying himself with his beater. Fiona began to write as soon as the play started. Angelina raised the Quaffle with one hand and threw it hard to Fred, who passed to George, who passed to Harry, who passed to Ron, who dropped it.

The Slytherins mocked wildly at that but Fiona tried to ignore it. She watched as both George and Fred exchanged looks. The fact that they hadn’t too mocked Ron was hard for her to believe.

Ron, who had finally retrieved the quaffle, passed it to Alicia. Fiona began to write again.

“Hey, Potter, how’s your scar feeling?” called Malfoy. “Sure you don’t need a lie-down? It must be, what, a whole week since you were in the hospital wing, that’s a record for you, isn’t it?”

Eventually the quaffle worked its way back to Ron, who dropped it again. Fiona saw Angelina bark at him for it. She was definitely getting frustrated. The routine commenced again and finally Ron caught it, but when he tossed it to Katie, he hit her square in the face.

“Oof,” Apollo said under his breath.

Angelina continued to call orders over the team as everyone reacted. Fred took a moment to hand her something Fiona couldn’t configure. Afterwards, Angelina called more orders and Fred and George retrieved their bats.

More plays were made but not many were successful. Fiona typically wouldn’t have cared but having the Slytherin’s sneering behind her made it hard to focus. She wanted so badly to turn around and hex them.

A final play was made before Angelina called for everyone’s attention. Fiona looked up to see Fred and George racing towards Katie, who seemed to be floating mindlessly in the air.

“What’s happening?” Fiona asked.

“It’s Katie,” Apollo replied. “I think she’s hurt.”

Fiona looked up. Katie was now nestled between Fred and George’s shoulders as they sped off the pitch.
“Oh no,” she said under her breath.

“Hey Katie!” sneered Pansy. “Looking a little pale there! Your thinking isn’t quite as clear as a bell, is it!”

“Hey!” Fiona shouted as she turned to face the Slytherins. They turned, the sneers and smiles fading from their faces. “I hope all of you croak!” she shouted again with a pointed, accusatory finger.

Draco scowled. “Piss off, you half blood scu— RIBBET.”

Fiona paused. Had she actually just hexed them? She didn't mean to.

Draco looked at his friends, confused. “What the bloody hell did you do– RIBBET.”

Apollo burst into laughter, nearly falling over from laughing so hard. Fiona joined in the laughter.

Pansy Parkinson stood, her wand in hand. “You’ll pay for tha– RIBBET!”

Fiona laughed again. “I’m sure I will,” she said before grabbing her things, running down the stairs and back towards the castle. She hadn’t totally grasped what she’d just done. The last time she hexed a Slytherin she almost paid for it. What was the likelihood it could happen again?

She decided she would worry about it later as she made her way towards the hospital wing. Katie was hurt and she’d needed to worry about that first.

When she entered the hospital wing, Katie was already on a bed, Fred and George by her side.

Fiona ran up to them. “Katie,” she said out of breath. “What happened?

She held a gauze up to her face, her brows knitted into a frown, as she pointed at Fred and George. They smiled guiltily at Fiona.

“What did you two do?” she asked.

“Well, you remember those nosebleed nougats?” Fred said.

“The ones you gave to the first years?” Fiona asked.

“Yeah,” George answered, “Well, we’d been working on an antidote. We’d done it, actually!”

“Right,” Fred said. “And when Katie got a nosebleed, I thought I’d give her an antidote… Only, i–”

“It wasn’t the antidote!” Katie exclaimed loudly, throwing her arms out to the side revealing the wild nosebleed that was finally slowing. “These daft dung beetles didn’t think to make the antidotes look different from the nougats.”

The twins laughed nervously as Fiona glanced between them.

“We’re really sorry,” George finally said. “But now we know the nougats from the antidotes.”

“Ugh!” Katie grunted as she threw an empty bottle of Hemorrhage Ebb at them, bonking Fred on the side of his head.

“Ow!” he said, rubbing his temple.

“Serves you right,” Fiona said as she passed him, sitting on the edge of the cot next to Katie.

“Yeah!” Katie agreed animatedly. “And to make matters worse, it was all in front of those Slytherins.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Fiona said. “I hexed them.”

“You wot?” the three of them said in unison.

Fiona looked up at them, startled by their concern. “It was an accident!” she said putting her hands up in surrender. “I said I hoped they all croaked and then they started to, well… croak.”

The three of them burst into laughter.

“Like, wandless magic?” Fred asked.

Fiona shrugged.

“That’s impressive,” George added, still chuckling.

Fiona smiled bashfully, quickly retrieving her notes to hand to Katie to hide the redness in her face. “Here,” she said. “I wrote down what I could.”

“Thanks, Jackson,” Katie said. “But I hardly think today’s practice will do us much good.”

Fiona smiled weakly before Madame Pomfrey entered the curtain.

“It’s time for you three to go,” she said as she set some things down on the table beside the cot. “Miss Bell will need to rest. She’s lost a lot of blood today.”

“See you,” Fiona said to Katie before leaving the curtain.

She had just made it to the Hospital’s exit when George caught up with her.

“Kind of a bummy practice, innit,” he said as his stride matched her own.

“Definitely not the best I’ve seen,” Fiona replied. “And I haven’t seen many.”

George laughed at that, combing his fingers through his hair. He looked like he had after try outs, sending her heart in motion again. She worked hard to avoid his gaze, fearing he’d notice her blush.

“Well you’ll have to come to the next practice,” He said. As they entered the Gryffindor tower. “They’re usually more exciting than this one.”

“Are the Slytherins always there taunting you?” she asked before chanting the password to the portrait of the fat lady.

“Sometimes,” he replied as they entered. The common room was full of students hanging out. It was usually busy before dinner on Saturdays.

“Suppose I’ll have to be careful, then,” Fiona added. “Especially after hexing them.”

“I can protect you,” George said.

Fiona snorted. “Sure,” she said sarcastically.

“What?” He said as he leaned closer to her, inches from her face. “I’ve done it before,” he whispered with a wink. Fiona stopped up short, completely flustered by his remark. George, likely able to tell, smirked. “I’m off to shower,” he said, backing towards the stairs, his smirk never fading. “See you at dinner.”

Fiona said nothing but watched him go up the stairs. The sudden image of him in the shower popped into her mind, the water droplets rolling down his skin, outlining his defined muscles. She shivered as she came back to earth, the common room still buzzing.

Something was happening to her, something she couldn’t control. She didn’t like it.

Chapter Text

The next morning was a slow one for Fiona. She slept hard the night before, and for whatever reason, struggled to come to. It was Monday, and she’d have to have divination again. It was harder to enjoy the class this year, after Trelawney was no help in solving her dream the year prior. It left a bad taste in her mouth, and ever since, she’d been reluctant to attend class. That, and her tablemate, Athena, was quite dependent on her. Nonetheless, she prepared for class, getting dressed in her Hogwarts school uniform and heading down for breakfast.

“Morning,” Angelina said as Fiona sat herself across from her.

“Morning,” she replied, pouring herself a serving of Frosted Shreddies into a bowl. Oh, how I miss Cinnamon Toast Crunch, she thought to herself.

“Katie okay?” Angelina asked before taking a bite of her eggs.

Fiona shrugged. “She spent the night in the hospital. Seemed fine when I saw her yesterday, but I haven’t seen her this morning.”

As if on cue, Katie appeared, sitting herself next to Fiona. Her undereyes were bruised, and she had a small bandage over the bridge of her nose.

“You’re alive,” Fiona said, taking her in.

“No thanks to the Weasleys,” Katie mumbled, pouring her own bowl of cereal. “Lost so much blood, Pomfrey wanted me overnight. I hate the hospital beds.”

The post arrived a few moments later, owls swooping in, mail, newspapers, and packages hanging from their beaks and talons. A small black owl dropped an issue of the Daily Prophet into Angelina’s lap. She pulled open the string that bound the roll and unfolded it as she read the cover. She was mid-sip of her coffee when she nearly choked.

“You’re kidding,” she said, her eyes wide.

“What?” Fiona asked.

Angelina turned the paper around to show Fiona. Her eyes skimmed the headline:

MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST-EVER “HIGH INQUISITOR”

Fiona and Katie gasped at the same time. Angelina, appearing too miffed to read the full article, handed the paper to them. Fiona read it aloud.

“In a surprise move last night, the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

“‘The Minister has been growing uneasy about goings-on at Hogwarts for some time,’ said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley.”

“Hold on,” Fiona interrupted herself. “Is that Fred and George’s bro–”

“Older brother,” Angelina said, her tone flat. “Fred won’t talk about him, he’s so miffed.”

“Wait, what happened?” Fiona asked, a little irritated that George hadn’t mentioned anything before. She quickly assumed that if Fred wouldn’t talk about him, neither would George.

“To make a long, bloody story short,” Angelina said in a low voice, “He’s sided with the ministry in denying you-know-who’s return. Their Mum’s beside herself, apparently.”

“I never realized the Weasleys felt so passionately that he returned,” She replied.

“Well, you have to consider Harry,” Katie chimed, “He’s like their brother, really.”

Fiona nodded as she considered this. George didn’t talk much about Harry. But even then, he didn’t speak much about any of his actual siblings. He hardly knew he had a sister until she nearly ran into her last year. She continued reading.

”‘He is now responding to concerns voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve.’

“This is not the first time in recent weeks Fudge has used new laws to effect improvements at the Wizarding school. As recently as August 30th Educational Decree Twenty-two was passed, to ensure that, in the event of the current headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person.

“‘That’s how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the teaching staff at Hogwarts,’ said Weasley last night. ‘Dumbledore couldn’t find anyone, so the Minister put in Umbridge and of course, she’s been an immediate success —’”

“Oh bloody hell,” Fiona cut herself off again.

“I’m confused,” Katie said. “What does this mean?”

Fiona skimmed the page, uninterested in reading the whole thing for fear it’d anger her too much. “‘The Inquisitor will have powers to inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are coming up to scratch,’” she recited.

“Merlin,” Katie breathed.

“Makes sense why Hagrid hasn’t been back,” Angelina admitted. “He’d be fired first.”

Fiona thought of her divination professor. “I’m afraid Trelawney doesn’t stand a chance either,” she admitted reluctantly.

“Well, hopefully none of us will be there when she gets sacked,” Katie said, struggling to retain the pessimism from forming in her expression. “When’s that for you?”

“Now,” Fiona said, checking her watch before collecting her things.

“Keep us updated,” Angelina added as she took back the paper, purposefully crumpling the front page.

Fiona smiled weakly as she made for divination. The class was conducted as usual, starting with predictions between table partners, Fiona predicting Athena’s future well, while Athena stumbled through it yet again. Then Trelawney instructed them further on the reading of tea leaves, reviewing all the symbols and their meanings. She was explaining the meaning of a trident when Athena chimed in.

“Excuse me, professor,” she said while raising her hand. “Erm… how does one make out a trident from– er.. Well, that?” The image she was referring to was in the textbook. It was a cup of tea leaves, well clumped together. Fiona agreed that it would be hard for someone as uncreative as Athena to decipher.

Trelawney laughed. “Oh my dear, do you need glasses?” she asked as she adjusted her own large spectacles on her nose.

“Er… I don’t think so,” Athena replied.

Trelawney opened up the textbook towards the class. “My darling, if you simply look closely,” she said, pointing at the image example, “you can see the trident quite well.” Athena frowned.

“She must not know what a trident is,” said a Ravenclaw girl from a few rows away.

“Oi!” Athena blurted. “I know what a trident is!”

“There, there!” Trelawney said, holding up her hands as if to calm the class. “We don’t need to get upset. Miss Jackson, if you would so, please assist your tablemate in identifying the trident.”

Fiona sighed quietly, but nodded. For how much she was teaching Trelawney's students, she felt she ought to receive extra credit.

She scooted her chair closer to Athena, pointing at the image in the textbook. “Look here,” she said, outlining the trident symbol in the book. “Three prongs.”

Athena frowned, her lips pursed together. “I suppose…” she murmured.

“I can help you later if you want,” she offered, pity taking over her irritation.

“Thanks,” she smiled. Fiona smiled back.

The class ended with no interrogation from Umbridge. Fiona was relieved. She worried that if Trelawney got booted, she would have to teach the class. She just entered the staircase from Trelawney’s class when Athena stopped her.

“Thanks again for being such great help,” she said, clutching her divination book to her chest.

“It’s no problem,” Fiona replied shortly before continuing down the stairs.

Athena followed her. “Well, actually, I reckon it is,” she added, trying to keep up. Fiona wasn't interested in her guilt; besides, she was nearly late for DADA. She hurried down the stairs. “I’d like to make it up to you if you’re willing,” Athena called after her.

Fiona paused, interested as to what Athena meant. “Make it up to me?” she asked.

Athena nodded once as she came closer. She spoke in a low voice. “Look, I, er… I know you enjoy a fag every now and then…”

Fiona frowned. “How would you know that?”

“I saw ‘em in your bag once,” she smiled guiltily. “It was sitting open and I saw the Marlboro package peaking out.”

Fiona narrowed her eyes, curious as to where this was going. “What about it?”

Athena continued in a low voice. “I could get you something similar, but… better.” She looked around at the students who passed.

“Better?”

“Ever had grass before?”

“Grass?” Fiona asked.

Athena snickered. “You know… ‘bud’, ‘skunk’...”

“Weed,” Fiona answered.

Athena nodded. “Have you had it before?”

Fiona had never tried weed. Not because she didn’t want to, but because she never got the opportunity. Nikki said she wanted a drunk summer and swore off the green, so it was never around. Girls often smoked it in the bathrooms at Ilvermorney too, but Fiona wasn’t old enough or interested enough to try it then.

“No,” she finally replied.

A grin stretched across Athena’s face. “You’ll like it,” she said. “Meet me at the greenhouse before dinner. I can get some to you then.”

Fiona raised her eyebrows. “I don’t know if I nee–”

“Trust me,” she interrupted. “After you’ve tried it, you’ll practically be begging to tutor me, you won’t get enough.” Athena chuckled to herself, then continued down the stairs, leaving Fiona behind.

She didn’t know how she felt about it. Sure, alcohol was one thing, but physical drugs? It was a felony to have it in the Muggle world; was it the same in the wizarding one?” Unsure and unwilling to hash it out then and there, she made her way to DADA, where the tensions were higher than usual.

The class remained as boring as ever. There was no lecture or instruction from Umbridge other than to read the assigned chapter and take notes. Moreso, no wands were allowed to be used. Fiona intently followed the big hand rotate around her watch, waiting for it to reach the top of the hour. It felt like forever, but eventually the bell rang. Fiona urgently pulled her things together, eager to get out of the room that felt like it was closing in on her, but was stopped by Umbridge.

“Miss Jackson,” she said in her high pitched voice. Fiona scowled up at her. “Is it true that you hexed Mr. Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Miss Parkinson?”

Fiona only frowned in response.

“It was reported that you,” she paused recite from a piece of parchment, “'cursed them into croaking like frogs?'”

A smile twitched the corner of her mouth. “Not intentionally.”

Umbridge raised an eyebrow. “How do you mean?”

“They were teasing my friends and I told them that I hoped they croaked, and then well… they did,” she said. “An accident, I swear.”

“And you expect me to believe that?” She said, her eyebrow still cocked. Fiona shrugged. “Detention, Miss Jackson.” Fiona’s mouth fell open. Umbridge sighed “I expect Mr. Potter will be back in detention again this evening, so I will have to see you tomorrow evening. You’re dismissed.”

Fiona turned on her heel, her mouth still open. Detention? She’d never received detention before. And why had it been given by Umbridge? She didn’t have anything to do with the matter. If anything it was a harmless prank against the Slytherins. They were still alive, weren't they? They’re pathetic, she admitted to herself. The more she dwelled on it, the more she looked forward to the little gift Athena was to give her that evening.

…

The hour before dinner couldn’t have arrived sooner. Potions was dismal, Snape being more on edge than usual, likely due to the fact that Umbridge could’ve arrived to evaluate him at any moment. The consequence of his irritability, however, was Gryffindor losing twenty points by the end of the class. Terrence Higgs couldn’t stop laughing, making the Gryffindors act out even more, causing Snape to reduce more points.

The bell rang and Fiona scrambled to collect her things, carelessly throwing them into her bag. She didn’t wait for her roommates, but they were able to keep up. When the time came for Fiona to turn towards the greenhouse instead of towards the Great Hall, her roommates questioned it.

“Where are you off to, Jackson?” Katie called.

“I'm meeting someone,” was all she could think of.

“Er…” Lucy hesitated, “alright.”

She turned on her heel towards the greenhouse. “I’ll be at dinner,” Fiona called over her shoulder. “Just need a second.”

She left her roommates in her dust, as she raced towards the Greenhouse. Drugs. She was going to do drugs. And she was hiding it from her loved ones. Except it was only weed, so it couldn’t really be that bad, could it? Still, she didn’t want to tell her friends about it. Maybe she shouldn’t do this. She was satiated enough with cigarettes wasn’t she? Fiona slowed her pace, almost ready to bail and turn back towards the Great Hall when Athena called her from the opposite end.

“You came!” she said, a grin on her face. They met in the center of the hall, where the greenhouse entrance was.

“Uh… yeah,” Fiona said, forcing a slight smile on her face.

“Well c’mon,” Athena said, tossing her long ponytail over her shoulder. She took out a key from her robes to unlock the golden handle on the greenhouse door.

“You have the key?” Fiona asked from behind.

The door unlatched, and Athena pulled the door open. “Herbology club. I’m the head.”

They entered the warm greenhouse, which glowed with golden sunbeams from the setting sun. They walked through the aisles, moving and breathing plants on both sides.

“Watch out for the tentacula,” she warned mindlessly as they passed the slithering plant. Athena took them to the back corner of the greenhouse, where a large potted bonsai-looking tree sat. There was a knot in the center of the tree stump that she pointed her wand at. “Ligustrum revelio,” she chanted. At once the knot receded, revealing a deep cavity. Athena reached inside the cavity and withdrew a small object holding it up to Fiona with her fingers, and revealing a tightly rolled joint.

“You keep these in here?” Fiona said, taking the joint and inspecting it. She rolled the little object between her fingers, a skunky scent wafting under her nose. She coughed in repulsion, the scent nearly knocking her off her feet. “Even when the smell’s that strong?”

Athena laughed, taking a joint for her own. “We don’t grow it here, just store it.” She said, tapping the trunk with her wand, the cavity closing again.

“Where do you grow it?” Fiona asked.

She smiled cunningly. “That’s a secret I'll never tell.” Athena then took Fiona’s bag off her shoulder, searching for her box of cigarettes, and took the joint from her fingers and stored it inside. “Repelio Odorem,” she chanted at the box, before handing it back. The scent Fiona was repulsed by had suddenly vanished.

“Thanks,” she smiled, placing the box back in her bag.

“Look,” Athena said in a more serious tone. “I’m really not supposed to be showing you all of this, but I really feel like I owe you, or that I’ll continue to owe you. Merlin knows I won’t be improving in that class.”

“Lips are sealed,” Fiona promised. Besides, she wasn’t sure she’d need continued use. Just to take the edge off.

Athena smiled gratefully. “Thanks,” she replied.

Together they walked back to the Great Hall, Fiona’s stomach rumbling with hunger.

“So does Leanne know about this?” Fiona asked suddenly, recalling Katie’s friend was also a Hufflepuff.

Athena snickered. “She’s our roller. Nimble fingers, that one.”

Fiona laughed heartily before covering her mouth with her hand. “Does Katie know?” she whispered.

Athena shrugged, though a coy smile remained on her lips. “You’ll have to ask her.”

They entered the great hall which was already packed with students eating their meal. Athena peeled away to the hufflepuff table as Fiona did the same towards the Gryffindor table.

She sat down with her roommates, Angelina and the Weasleys not far.

“Look who’s finally arrived,” Lucy teased.

“Sorry,” Fiona shrugged, loading her plate with dinner sausage and boiled carrots.

Gemma leaned in. “So who was it?” she asked in a low voice from across the table.

Fiona frowned. “What?”

“Oh, come on, Jackson!” Lucy moaned. “We certainly know it wasn’t Weasley ‘cos he’s been here the whole time!” George snapped his head up at that. “Who was it?!”

Fiona frowned even more at Lucy’s near hysterics. “I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Well you obviously snuck away to snog someone,” Lucy declared loudly. Angelina snorted a shocked laugh in her drink, Katie laughed heartily, and Gemma tried hard not to smile. Fiona burned bright red. Had she just said that in front of everyone? She glanced at George quickly. He looked as red and shocked as she assumed she did.

“I wasn’t snogging anyone!” Fiona defended quickly, before taking a long sip from her cup of water, hoping it would cool her down.

“No one leaves class that quickly to go to the loo,” Lucy replied. “Besides you said you were meeting someone.”

“Yeah I was!” Fiona said loudly, angered and embarrassed by Lucy’s accusation. “I met my classmate, Athena, in the Greenhouse. She was showing me…” she hesitated for only a moment to come up with an excuse “...what happens in Herbology Club.”

“Herbology Club?!” Everyone at the table echoed.

“Yes!” Fiona exasperated.

Lucy grew very small. “I’d never pin you as an Herbology enthusiast,” she admitted quietly.

“Yeah, well,” was all that Fiona could say. She glanced at George, who was watching her closely but looked away quickly once their eyes met. She was mortified at what had just occurred. To announce that she was snogging someone… in front of George. She wanted to slap Lucy. Of course she would say “I’m just slagging,” and maybe that was the case, but her feelings towards George were starting to change. Since he suddenly expressed such interest in her, she considered him as someone to fancy again. But would he now think she was interested in someone else? She sighed heavily.

It was a quiet dinner after that, despite the rest of the Great Hall conversing loudly. Lucy, the usual yapper, was too embarrassed to say anything more. Fred and Angelina attempted to fill the silence, but found themselves receiving only awkward laughs, grunts, and throat clearing in return.

George finished his meal first, excusing himself back to the common room. Then Fred and Lee followed a few minutes before Fiona finally excused herself.

“I’ll see you in the common room,” she said as she stood from the table.

Lucy grabbed her sleeve, pulling her back. Fiona looked down at her, her blue eyes big and apologetic. “I’m really sorry, Jackson. I don’t know what came over me… I was just… I just…”

Fiona sighed. It was hard to stay mad at Lucy for too long. “You were just excited,” she answered.

“Yeah,” Lucy replied with a flat smile. “I just really didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t. Just embarrassed me, really,” Fiona replied with a small chuckled. Lucy flashed her teeth apologetically. “It’s okay,” she tried to reassure her. “Everyone needs a good humbling now and then. Or as you put it, ‘slag.’” Lucy chucked at that. Fiona flashed a flat smile at them before making her way up to the Gryffindor Tower. She thumbed the box of cigarettes in her bag, eager to try the new herb Athena had gifted her.

She’d heard many things about Marijuana, that it made you calm, or giggly, hungry, and more. She also knew it wasn’t possible to overdose on it, but you could ingest too much. She promised herself she’d make the joint last as long as possible.

When she entered the common room, the Weasley twins and Lee were in the corner, already changed into more comfortable evening attire, poring over a potion book. George looked up as Fiona walked through the portrait hole, and quickly glanced away again when their eyes met. Fiona sighed, worried he’d felt hurt or betrayed. Maybe he was the jealous type after all. Fiona smirked slightly at the thought.

She ran to the dormitory to change into some comfortable pants and a sweater. She couldn’t smoke it in the room, it’d stink up the place. Besides, her roommates would return any second. Instead she decided she’d try the astronomy tower since she knew there was no class that evening.

She picked her bag up again and raced down the flagstone steps into the common room, nearly running her roommates over.

“Woah!” Katie said, holding her hands up to protect herself from Fiona’s speed. “You alright?”

“Yeah!” Fiona replied a little too cheerfully. “I left my divination book in Trelawney’s. Gonna go grab it.”

“Er, alright,” Gemma said. Fiona smiled and side stepped them for the portrait hole. “You’re still gonna to study with us, right?” she called after her.

Fiona turned, walking backwards. “That’s why I need my book,” she called back. Before she could hear a response, she’d already slipped through the portrait hole. She held her bag close to her as she passed several students returning from dinner, worried they could smell what she was concealing. The charm Athena had placed on it was already starting to fade.

She pushed open the door to the stairwell, the high wind already whipping around her. After climbing the winding staircase that led to the top, Fiona tried to catch her breath. It wasn’t an easy walk, especially since she was in a hurry. She looked over the edge of the tower down at the lake that glowed in the pale moonlight. She placed her bag down, opening it to retrieve her box of marlboros, and, using the dull golden glow that illuminated from the windows below, thumbed out the joint Athena had handed her. She placed the fragrant roll between her lips and lit it with her wand. She inhaled the smoke and exhaled, blowing the fumes into the light sky. A sense of deep relaxation flooded over her.

“This is an odd place to leave your divination book,” a voice spoke from behind.

Fiona jumped and gasped, nearly dropping the joint she held between her fingers. She turned to find George stepping into the moonlight.
“George,” she said, placing her hand on her chest to calm her nerves.

“Fiona,” he replied with a smirk, stepping closer. Fiona hid the joint behind her back. She wasn’t sure how well that’d work, it reeked too much.

“How is it you always know where I am?” she asked, a tinge of anger in her voice. George chuckled once. She smirked back. “Are you stalking me?”

He was now only a foot from her, the golden glow illuminating his blue eyes from below. “No one has ever been that urgent to retrieve their study book. Well, except for Hermione. I knew you were up to something.”

Fiona rolled her eyes. “Worried I’d run off to snog some mystery person again?” She joked. A frown flashed between but quickly faded as he forced a laugh.

“Please,” he said, leaning on the railing next to her, “I’m not Lucy.” He was looking out into the distance, studying the darkness the veiled the ground. Fiona pursed her lips before revealing the joint between her fingers, holding it right in front of his face.

George looked at it then smirked. “I thought I smelled something,” he said with a sarcastic tone.

“Yeah, yeah,” Fiona said, offering it towards him. “Go on, have a go.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” he said taking the joint between his finger and thumb, the embers illuminating and orange red as he inhaled. He exhaled the smoke out with a smile. He offered the joint back. “Didn’t know you were a junky.”

“I’m not,” Fiona replied defensively, taking the roll. “This was my Herbology club orientation earlier.”

George laughed. “Not really interested in the club, then?”

“Well now that I know they’ve got this I might actually be!” They both laughed at that, watching as a few post owls flew into the Owlry on the other side of the castle. It was a quiet evening, besides a few suspicious noises from the Dark Forest, the night was completely still.

She turned to look at him. “Read about your brother in the paper today.”

George didn’t meet her eye. “Oh, him.”

“Why didn’t you ever mention him?” She passed him the joint.

“Well, cos percy’s a twat,” he said as he took a hit, “always has been. Consider Harry more of a brother than him at the moment.”

“Yes, but you don’t mention him either. You don’t really mention any of your siblings… besides Fred,” she replied, leaning her elbow on the railing. “Why’s that?”

George breathed, looking down at the joint between his fingers, then back out onto the lake. “When you’re part of the sacred twenty-eight,” he began, his voice quieter than before, “there’s a tremendous amount of pressure and expectation around your family, even as pureblood traitors. Who you are always comes back to who you’re related to. Sure, we’re all Weasleys, but we’re all different as well. I find that not mentioning them helps me remember that.”

Fiona nodded slowly, understanding how it felt. She and Apollo weren’t identical, but it didn’t stop people from comparing them to one another. “How many siblings do you have?” she asked.

“Six,” he replied almost instantly. Fiona assumed he had been asked this many times before. “Bill’s oldest, he’s the best looking of us all.”

“Disagree,” Fiona blurted. George finally turned to look at her, the moonlight reflecting off his blue eyes. She shifted uncomfortably, pretending to be distracted by something out in the distance.

He snickered quietly before continuing. “Then there’s Charlie, he keeps dragons in Romania. Then came Percy, the snobbish twat. There’s Fred and myself, then Ron, who deserves more credit than he’s given, and then there’s Ginny: the best of us.”

“That’s a lot,” Fiona admitted quietly.

George gave a subtle nod. “And we're all so different,” he added. “It’s hard to believe that people even try to compare us to one another, but they do. And don’t get me wrong; I love them, all of them. But sometimes I can't stand them. Sometimes I need a break.”

“So the Joint’s helping?” Fiona quipped.

“Immensely.” They grinned at each other before breaking into giggles, the joint starting to work its magic. “And what about you?” George continued as he stifled his laughter. “You never really mention Apollo.”

Fiona shrugged with a smile. “People really used to compare us to one another, but that didn’t last long. We’re so incredibly different. He plays quidditch, I don't. He had friends, I didn’t. He was popular, I wasn’t. Still, I suppose I don't mention him for the same reason. It can be hard, being a twin.”

George shook his head. “It’s hard to believe you weren’t popular at your old school. You’re so easy to get on with.”

“The girls at Ilvermorny would disagree, but thanks.”

“They must have been jealous, then.”

“Doubtful.”

“No, Jackson,” he said, shaking his head again, “You’re smart, witty, adventurous… you’re bloody gorgeous. There’s no way they weren’t jealous.” Fiona stood stunned, looking up at him. George’s excited expression faded as he realized what he’d said. She remained still, waiting for him to do something or say something next. “Err, I think this joint’s getting to me,” he said as he scratched the back of his head. “Care to raid the kitchens?”

Fiona blinked, still stunned by his initial remark. “Um, I’m not really hungry,” she finally said. It was true. She didn’t have much of an appetite. The pang of disappointment that sank in her heart suppressed any hunger she even had. “This joint’s just making me tired.”

“Right,” George said before clearing his throat awkwardly.

Fiona dropped the very last nib of the joint onto the flagstone floor, extinguishing it with the bottom of the shoe. She hoped George would say something more, but he only stood awkwardly, watching her.

“I’m off to bed” she said, looking up at him. She tried to smile at him, but her disappointment was already making it hard. “See you tomorrow,” she added as she made her way towards the stairs, leaving George on the balcony.

Chapter Text

“C’mon, mate! Get up!” called Fred as he ripped open the bed curtains.

George sat up groggily, yawning and scratching the back of his head as his eyes adjusted to the bright morning light. “‘Time is it?” he asked, still sitting in his bed.

“Late,” Fred retorted as he pulled on his robes. “Breakfast’s almost over.”

George sighed, throwing off his covers and heading into the loo. He could’ve sworn he’d set his clock the night before, but maybe he hadn’t. He was up all night studying the contents he would likely need for his and Fred’s new invention. They were attempting a cosmetic product, one that would vanish pimples or acne, and were nearly there, but for whatever reason, the pimples would always return.

George lazily brushed his teeth before dressing and heading down for breakfast. He had just entered the Great Hall, nearly sitting down next to Fred when it caught his attention: the scent of lavender. He turned to see where she could be, looking up and down the Gryffindor table and hoping to find her. He paused once he spotted her, watching as her blonde curls bounced with each step, her partial profile hidden by the doorway she exited through.

“You alright, mate?” Lee asked.

George jumped, snapping out of his daze and closing his mouth that was left agape. “Yeah,” he said as he sat down. Fred sat across from him, stifling his grin. George kicked him from under the table.

Of course Fred knew who he was gaping at. He knew everything. The nice thing was that he didn’t bring it up all that often. It surprised George at first, Fred was always more confident than he was, willing to discuss anything and everything. But for whatever reason, he never pressed George about his feelings. He liked it that way.

Angelina came over a moment later, slapping her copy of Daily Prophet on the table in-between Fred and George. They jumped.

“Good morning to you too,” Fred said wryly.

“You’ll want to read this,” she replied, ignoring his quip, sitting next to him.

Fred eyed her as he took the paper from the table. “Okay,” he said before clearing his throat to read. George watched him carefully, curious as to what could be the headline. It wasn’t long before a firm crease appeared between Fred’s eyebrows.

“Bloody twat,” he said, crumpling the paper in his hands before tossing it back onto the table. George and Lee jumped.

“What’s happened?” Lee asked as he glanced between them.

George hesitated, glancing at Fred who remained frowning as he angrily ate the last of his breakfast. Angelina nodded, as if to tell him to read it.

He picked up the paper, straightening out the kinks Fred had created before reading the front page.

“In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

“‘The Minister has been growing uneasy about goings-on at Hogwarts for some time,’ said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley.”

This time it was George angrily crumpling the paper in his hands. “Bloody twat!” he echoed, standing up to take out his wand, pointing it at the paper that lay helplessly on the table. “Diffindo.” At once, the newspaper shred into a million pieces, decorating everyone’s breakfast like black and white confetti.

“Oi!” Lee said, “I was still eating.”

George ignored him, the hot ball of anger never extinguishing from inside his chest. I hate him, he said to himself. I hate that bloody traitor. He locked eyes with Fred, knowing he was thinking the same thing. His lips were pursed, and the little furrow between his brows remained.

“I need to cool off,” George said suddenly, grabbing his bag from the seat next to Lee. “I’ll see you lot in Charms.” He threw his bag over his shoulder, leaving his friends at the table.

Ever since he was little, his siblings were always pissing him off. But no one pissed him off more than Percy. Maybe that was because Percy hated him. But in reflection, he felt like Percy hated all of them. He was much too good for the rest of them, much too smart for the rest of them. And now, he was a Fudge sympathizer. What’s next? He joins the dark side?

George growled to himself, sitting on the window ledge outside Flitwick’s classroom. He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself. He was often angry. Padma Patil had told him it was because he was an Aries… Whatever that meant.

“You alright?” a voice said as he approached from down the hall. It was Fred, his books tucked under his arms.

“I just– he just–...” George struggled to find his words, he was still fuming.

“I know, mate,” he replied, placing his hand on George’s shoulder.

“I just feel bad for mum,” George added. “And Dad… he has to face him every day at the ministry. I hope he’s not such a twat when they have to see each other.”

“This is Percy we’re talking about,” Fred quipped. George smiled at that. At least they all agreed he was a git. “C’mon, class is starting soon.”

They made their way into Flitwick’s classroom. It was a normal class period until Umbridge came in. At first George was confused until he remembered the article.

“Hen-hem!” Umbridge declared. Flitwick stopped his lesson, squinting to see who had entered the room.

“You think she’s got something in her throat?” Fred joked under his breath.
George smiled. “Reckon it’s chronic,” he quipped back.

“Can I help you?” Flitwick asked from the front of the class.

“I’m sure you’re aware that I’ll be monitoring this class period?” Umbridge said in her shrill voice, her forced smile never fading.

“Er– oh yes! I suppose that’s right,” Flitwick replied, flustered by the intrusion. “Make yourself comfortable.”

George watched the plump pink lady sit in a chair at the corner of the classroom, scribbling down on her clipboard every now and then. Staring at her, he grew angry again. He hated that pink prissy pighead. His dad had mentioned her to him before, having a complete distaste for her and her policies.

“She’s absolutely no good,” he’d said one night at the dinner table. “Believes muggles are… Well, she thinks very little of them.”

“Enough of that, now, dear,” his mum had interrupted. She never liked it when he aired out his business to the kids.

The class continued without another interruption from Umbridge, besides the noise of her pen furiously scratching her clipboard.

After class was lunch, where they returned to the Great Hall, running into Ron, Harry, and Hermione. They all chatted about the new assessments Umbridge was conducting. George was sure to remind Harry not to land in detention, warning him that Angelina would kill him if that was the case. Really, he said it more for Fred’s benefit than Harry’s. Angelina had been so stressed lately, Fred wasn’t getting any. Not that he expected that of her, but it was putting a damper on their relationship nonetheless.

George thought about how little he’d been getting too. The last time he’d done anything was the year before, when he was dating Alicia. And then there was that kiss with Jackson in the corridor. His heart pounded at the memory; how she’d apologized to him, how her brown eyes glimmered in the low evening light from the lit torches, how soft and pink her lips looked. He’d been so distracted by how beautiful she was, he’d completely missed what she’d said before she turned to leave. Without even thinking, he’d pulled her back into him, taking her head in his hands and planting a firm kiss onto her lips. He almost pulled away, fearful he’d been too forceful, but she leaned in, parting her lips and placing her hands on his chest. When they’d parted, his realization set in. Flustered, he’d told her he had to go, leaving her in the corridor.

He shook off the memory before it led him to the worst part; when he’d lied and said he had no feelings for her. It was bogus, of course. He’d had feelings for her, and still did. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into him again, to plant another kiss onto her sweet lips, to feel the outline of her gorgeous figure with his fingertips. But he accepted that that would likely never come. In the process of everything, he’d hurt her time and time again. He’d even made her cry. He hated himself for it. Fred tried to convince him it wasn’t anything to worry about, that girls were sensitive and cried at everything, but Jackson didn’t strike him as a crier. No, she was a force, like a double shot of espresso that kept him going through the day.

The day went by like all the others: boring and uneventful. George couldn’t wait to be out of school, actually out in the real world, working alongside Fred. The longer he was at Hogwarts, the more he felt like it was holding him back. It was too structured. Too boring.

After classes, he made it to dinner, sitting with Fred, Lee, and Angelina, along with Katie and her roommates. But there was no Jackson.

“Oh, you’re here?” Lucy said. George frowned at that, unsure of what she meant. “Huh,” was all she said before she returned to her dinner.

He tried to shrug it off, eating his dinner quickly. Potions always left him starved. Finally Fiona arrived. She was out of breath, seating herself between Lucy and Gemma.

“Look who’s finally arrived,” Lucy teased.

“Sorry,” Fiona shrugged as she loaded her plate.

“So, who was it?” Gemma said in a low voice. Girl gossip. George tried not to pry, but he was curious.

“What?” Fiona replied with a frown. She always looked so cute with the little furrow between her brows.

“Oh, come on, Jackson!” Lucy whined “We certainly know it wasn’t Weasley ‘cos he’s been here the whole time!” George looked at Lucy, then to Fiona, then back to Lucy. “Who was it?!”

What was she getting at?

“I still have no idea what you’re talking about,” Fiona replied in a low voice.

“Well you obviously snuck away to snog someone,” Lucy declared loudly. It felt like time stood still. Snogging? She couldn’t have been snogging someone, could she? George suddenly felt hot, as his mind raced. Maybe she could’ve been, she’d been so distant from him compared to last year. Maybe she really was seeing someone. A pit fell in his stomach before Fiona glanced at him. Realizing he was gaping at her again, he quickly looked away.

“I wasn’t snogging anyone!” Fiona said.

“No one leaves class that quickly to go to the loo,” Lucy replied. “Besides you said you were meeting someone.”

“Yeah I was!” Fiona said loudly, anger creeping into her voice. “I met my classmate, Athena, in the Greenhouse. She was showing me… what happens in Herbology Club.”

“Herbology Club?!” George said at the same time as everyone.

“Yes!” Fiona exasperated.

She shared a few more words with Lucy, but by that point he had tuned it out. It wasn’t until their eyes locked again that he came back to earth, the disappointment sinking deeper into his stomach. We can’t be sure she’s lying, said a voice inside his head. Yes, but we can’t be sure she’s telling the truth either, said another. George continued his dinner in silence, ignoring the conversation around him as he thought it through. Had he missed his opportunity? Had he ruined any chance of being with the southern belle he’d dreamt of every night?

George dropped his fork loudly on his plate before standing up. “I’ll get started on the new project,” he said to Fred before heading back to the common room. He marched straight into his empty dormitory. His bed had been made, but that didn’t stop him from angrily ripping his sheets off the bed, throwing them on to the floor. He wanted to punch something. Anything to keep him from continuing to feel the sadness and guilt that lingered inside him. He threw off his uniform, which still smelled subtly like bat spleen from the potions they made in class, pulling on a soft pair of trousers that were much more comfortable. Already, he felt better, opening the window and sitting on the end of his bed to catch his breath. The cool autumn breeze cooled the bare skin of his shirtless torso, causing goosebumps to form. Eventually, he pulled on a sweater before throwing his sheets and covers back onto his bed. Deciding to distract himself, he made back down to the common room where Lee and Fred already sat, problem solving the acne potion that kept wearing off.

“Any clue what would make this last longer?” Asked Fred as he approached them.

“Reckon it needs to be a salve of some sort,” he replied, sitting himself next to Lee.

“Like Armonium?” Lee added. “I think that’s what they use in wizarding perfumes. Makes them last much longer.”

Fred raised his eyebrows in thought. “Very well could be,” he replied before jotting down Lee’s idea. “We’ll try that next. Any other ideas?”

From across the room, George spotted Lavender Brown apply a dark rouge lipstick, attempting to win the attention of Cormac McClaggin. “What do you reckon they put in lipsticks?” he asked, still watching her blot her lips together.

“Not sure where you’re going with that,” Lee replied with a short laugh.

“Well they last a while, don’t they?” George continued, turning to look at Fred and Lee.

Fred made glances at Lee. “I suppose…”

“Like, for instance, when you snog a girl, afterwards they’ve still got lipstick, don’t they?”

“Yeah,” Lee laughed, “and so do you!”

“You know what I mean,” George said, crossing his arms.

“Snogging still on your mind?” Lee continued, making suggestive eyebrows at him.

George frowned. “Pardon?”

Lee grinned. “I saw the look you made when you’d heard Jackson was snoggin’ someone.”

“Shh!” Fred interrupted, his eyes wide as he looked towards the portrait hole.

George followed his gaze, landing right on Jackson who’d entered. She had determination in her walk, and suspicion in her brown eyes as she looked around the room. Their eyes met, and George became flustered, looking away. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her depart up the stairs towards the dormitory.

“Nice going,” said George, punching Lee in the shoulder.

Lee rubbed his arm. “So I’m right, then?”

George hesitated as he stared at Lee. Why was he so fearful of telling him? Lee was good. Besides a bit of slagging, he wasn’t one to go meddling in other people’s business.

“Er, let’s get back to the potion, yeah?” Fred interrupted, sensing the tension.

They worked a bit more on the product before Fiona came back down the stairs, nearly running into Katie.

“Woah!” Katie said, holding Fiona by her shoulders. “You alright?”

“Yeah!” Fiona replied, cheerfully. George considered that suspicious. She’d just come into the common room a few moments ago with a scowl and now she was all chipper. “I left my divination book in Trelawney’s. Gonna go grab it.”

“Er, alright,” Gemma said. Fiona smiled and side stepped them for the portrait hole. “You’re still gonna to study with us, right?” she called after her.

Fiona turned, walking backwards. “That’s why I need my book,” she called back before disappearing through the portrait hole. George watched her roommates trade knowing looks before they retired to the sofa in front of the fire. Something was definitely up, and George had the sudden extreme urge to find out what it was.

“Go on,” Lee whispered. George turned to look at Lee who was grinning widely. “Go find out what she’s been up to.” Fred grinned too, nodding slowly.

George grinned back. “Be back in a few,” he said to Fred and Lee. If Fiona was really in a hurry, than she’d already be far gone and couldn’t catch up to her. He stood, making his way over to Ron, who sat with Hermione in another far corner of the common room. “Ron,” he said, towering over his younger brother who remained sitting, playing with a deck of cards.

“George,” he replied, flipping over his Aces.

“Harry around?” George asked, putting his hands in his pocket.

“Detention,” Hermione answered, not looking up from her homework.

George stifled a laugh. Angelina was definitely going to kill him. “Well, look, I really need the map.”

“Wot map?” Ron asked, finally looking up at George. He’d grown so much in the last year, he was starting to look more and more like Charlie.

“Don’t play stupid,” George replied, his eyebrows high.

“It’s Harry’s,” Ron said in a low voice.

George placed his hand on the table, leaning closer to Ron. “Yeah, and who gave it to him?” he whispered.

Ron rolled his eyes and groaned. “Fine,” he said as he stood, “but next time you ask Harry yourself.”

Ron led him to the top of the stairs into their dormitory, opening the trunk at the end of a bed George figured to be Harry’s. He withdrew a parchment, unfolding it and handing it to George.

George took out his wand, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” At once, ink developed on the parchment, displaying a map of Hogwarts in its entirety, and the title Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs are proud to present the Marauder's Map taking up the whole front page. He unfolded the map even more, searching for Fiona’s name.

“What do you need this for, anyway?” Ron asked irritably, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Going to nick something from Snape’s cellar,” he lied mindlessly as his eyes skimmed the parchment. And finally he spotted it: Fiona Jackson underneath the ink that read Astronomy Tower. “Mischief Managed.” He folded the parchment and tossed it back to Ron. “Thanks mate,” he said, slapping him on the shoulder as he quickly made for the stairs.

He raced down the stairs, through the common room and into the corridors that led to the tower. Lee’s encouragement seemed to have worked. He was going to do something to show her how he felt. He wasn’t quite sure what. In the end he wanted nothing more than to kiss her again.

He ran up the winding stairs that opened up to the astronomy tower balcony. There she stood, in the pale moonlight, the light autumn breeze blowing through her hair, a puff of smoke moving in the same direction.

“This is an odd place to leave your divination book,” he said.

Fiona jumped and gasped, turning to look at him.

“George,” she replied, clutching her chest.

He loved hearing her say his name. It sent a flutter through him. “Fiona,” he replied with a grin, stepping closer. She quickly hid the cigarette she had behind her back, but the closer he got the more he realized that it wasn’t a cigarette. The smell was too funny.

“How is it you always know where I am?” she asked with a challenging tone. George chuckled which made her smile. “Are you stalking me?”

He was closer to her now, the moon silhouetting her hair making it look like a halo. “No one has ever been that urgent to retrieve their study book. Well, except for Hermione. I knew you were up to something.”

She rolled her brown eyes. The moonlight reflected off her curves, sending a warm feeling into his body. He knew he ought to look away for obvious reasons, but it was too tempting. She looked too good. “Worried I’d run off to snog some mystery person again?” A painful visual entered his mind then, he tried to shut it out, playing off his discomfort.

“Please,” he said, leaning on the railing next to her, “I’m not Lucy.” He looked out into the distance, still working hard to mute the image of her snogging another person. It made it worse that it was McClaggin he imagined. Fiona held something in front of his eyes. He looked down to see a neatly rolled joint between her fingers,

“I thought I smelled something,” he said with a sarcastic tone.

“Yeah, yeah,” Fiona replied, offering it towards him. “Go on, have a go.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” he said, taking the joint between his finger and thumb. He inhaled the smoke, warming up his insides before exhaling with a smile. He offered the joint back “Didn’t know you were a junky.”

“I’m not,” Fiona replied defensively, taking it back. “This was my herbology club orientation earlier.”

George laughed. “Not really interested in the club, then?”

“Well now that I know they’ve got this I might actually be!” They both laughed at that, watching as a few post owls flew into the Owlry on the other side of the castle. It was a quiet evening, besides a few suspicious noises from the Dark Forest, the night was completely still.

She turned to look at him. “Read about your brother in the paper today.”

He froze. Why? he thought to himself. Why bring up Percy? “Oh, him.”

“Why didn’t you ever mention him?” She passed him the joint.

He took it in his fingers, thinking of how to reply. “Well, cos percy’s a twat,” he said, taking a hit, “always has been. Consider Harry more of a brother than him at the moment.”

“Yes, but you don’t mention him either. You don’t really mention any of your siblings… besides Fred,” she replied, leaning her elbow on the railing to look up at him. “Why’s that?”

He breathed, looking down at the joint between his fingers, then back out onto the lake. How much would he tell? “When you’re part of the sacred twenty-eight,” he began quietly, “there’s a tremendous amount of pressure and expectation around your family, even as pureblood traitors. Who you are always comes back to who you’re related to. Sure, we’re all Weasleys, but we’re all different as well. I find that not mentioning them helps me remember that.”

She nodded slowly before replying. “How many siblings do you have?” she asked.

“Six,” he replied almost instantly. “Bill’s oldest, he’s the best looking of us all.”

“Disagree,” Fiona blurted. He looked at her quickly before she realized what she’d said. She cleared her throat awkwardly.

What’d she mean by that? He snickered quietly, trying to play it off. “Then there’s Charlie, he keeps dragons in Romania. Then came Percy, the snobbish twat. There’s Fred and myself, then Ron, who deserves more credit than he’s given, and then there’s Ginny: the best of us.”

“That’s a lot,” she replied quietly.

He nodded. “And we're all so different,” he added. “It’s hard to believe that people even try to compare us to one another, but they do. And don’t get me wrong; I love them, all of them. But sometimes I can't stand them. Sometimes I need a break.”

“So the Joint’s helping?” She quipped.

“Immensely.” They grinned at each other before breaking into giggles. Talking with Fiona was always easy, and he always enjoyed it. He wanted to do it more often. “And what about you?” he continued as he stifled his laughter. “You never really mention Apollo.”

She shrugged with a smile. “People really used to compare us to one another, but that didn’t last long. We’re so incredibly different. He plays quidditch, I don't. He had friends, I didn’t. He was popular, I wasn’t. Still, I suppose I don't mention him for the same reason. It can be hard, being a twin.”

George shook his head. “No, what’s hard is to believe you weren’t popular at your old school. You’re so easy to get on with.”

“The girls at Ilvermorny would disagree, but thanks.”

“They must have been jealous, then.”

“Doubtful.”

“No, Jackson,” he said, shaking his head again, a little annoyed by her unwillingness to see the truth. “You’re smart, witty, adventurous… you’re bloody gorgeous. There’s no way they weren’t jealous.” Fiona stood stunned, looking up at him. Shit, shit, shit. As she stared at him he realized he should’ve come with a plan. He should’ve figured out what to say and what to do first, maybe even how and when to kiss her. But now he was standing before her like a bloody idiot, frozen by making a choice. Too much time had passed, he couldn’t kiss her now, he couldn’t keep flirting with her. Fucking hell! He had no option but to bail. “Err, I think this joint’s getting to me,” he said as he scratched the back of his head. “Care to raid the kitchens?”

Fiona hesitated, blinking up at him, a frown forming over her big brown eyes. “Um, I’m not really hungry,” she finally said. “This joint’s just making me tired.”

“Right,” George said before clearing his throat awkwardly. I’m an idiot! I’m an idiot!

She dropped the very last nib of the joint onto the flagstone floor, extinguishing it with the bottom of the shoe. George felt he should say something else but he was completely flustered.

“I’m off to bed,” she said, looking up at him. She tried to smile at him, but her disappointment was already making it hard. “See you tomorrow.” He watched her walk away, frozen like a dear in headlights.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath.

…

He was too ashamed to fill Fred and Lee in when he’d returned to the dormitory the night before. He’d actually gone to the kitchens, pigging out on some freshly baked cookies hoping it’d keep his mind off of the absolute trainwreck that ensued on the astronomy tower.

George groaned as he rolled out of bed, walking straight to the bathroom to relieve himself and brush his teeth.

Fred appeared behind him in the mirror’s reflection. “So, you came back late last night,” he said, making suggestive eyebrows.

George paused his brushing, bending over to spit in the sink. “What about it?” He replied, wiping his mouth with a towel and throwing it over his shoulder, returning to the dormitory.

“Oh no,” Fred continued, following along behind him. “What’s happened?”

George sighed, pulling out a spare uniform from his trunk. “I acted a bloody fool, that’s what.” Fred nor Lee responded, waiting for him to continue. “I lost my head,” he said, “and word-vomited all over her. Called her ‘bloody gorgeous’ and then… it was like I couldn’t think. I felt completely frozen, torn between what I’d just said and what I should do.”

Lee and Fred looked at one another cautiously.

“Well you had to have said something,” Lee said, his hands on his hips.

“Yeah,” George said as he closed his eyes, cringing at the memory. “I said that the joint was getting to me and asked her to the kitchens.”

Fred and Lee audibly cringed.

“You didn’t kiss her?” Fred exasperated, placing his hands on his head. George shook his head. “Blimey mate, you’ve done it before!”

“I know!” he barked, causing Lee to jump. He sighed and sat at the end of his bed. “I’m just so afraid of screwing things up again. I care about her too much.”

Fred walked over to George, slapping him on the shoulder. “Cheer up, mate,” he said, “At least now you really know she wasn’t snogging someone else!”

George gave in to a small laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. Fred always knew how to lighten the mood.

As they made their way down to breakfast, a knot formed in George’s stomach. Facing Fiona after the fumble from the night before would be difficult. But she was there, sitting across from Angelina, deep in conversation as she ate her cereal. As George approached, he decided to challenge his anxiety and treat Fiona as if nothing weird had happened.

“Mmooorning,” he said in a low voice, sitting next to Fiona. She looked at him, her eyes wide with worry.

“You’re chipper,” Angelina remarked.

“I am,” George said, forcing a smile as he poured himself a bowl of cereal.

Angelina laughed. “What’s happened, then?”

He grinned, looking up at the enchanted sky, pretending to think. “I just slept well last night, is all. A nice change from the usual. All thanks to Jackson here.”

Fiona frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t remember?” he replied playfully as he grinned widely. “The wonderful herb you learned about in your Herbology club?”

Fiona raised her eyebrows, opening and closing her mouth as she struggled to find the words. “What herb?” she replied, attempting to lie.

Angelina snickered. “Jackson, it’s alright,” she said, “You don’t have to pretend.”

“Pretend what?” she asked, shaking her head.

Angelina leaned forward. “Us seventh-years are keen to… you know.”

Fiona relaxed a little. “You’ve done it before?”

She nodded with a frown. “Thank you Hannah Abbott!” she replied in a sing-song voice.

“Ange does her homework in exchange for a few… rolls,” George added, amused by Fiona’s initial anxiety.

“Not all the time,” she clarified. “Just when I need something.” Fiona took a deep breath. George assumed she was finally putting it all together. “Don’t tell anyone on the quidditch team,” Angelina added in hushed tones. “We could get booted.”

Fiona put her hands up. “‘Secret’s safe with me.”

Angelina turned to George with a cocked eyebrow. “How’d you find out about her secret?”

George swallowed. “We shared a spliff at the top of the astronomy tower last night.”

Angelina glanced between them, a small grin curling her lips.

“Well!” Fiona said suddenly, collecting her bag as she stood from the table, noticeably uncomfortable by what Angelina was piecing together. “I’m off to class! See you.”

They both watched her leave before Angelina spoke.

“Did you…?” She asked.

“No,” George answered firmly, unable to withhold the disappointment from his tone. “No, I completely cocked up last night.”

She leaned forward, her tone hushed. “What’d you do?”

“Nothing horrible,” he replied, waving his hand reassuringly. “I just… well. I was a dud. Completely missed my chance, and now…”

“Now you think it’s put her off,” Angelina answered.

“Yeah,” he replied, biting the inside of his cheek. “I want to make it up to her, but I feel like I’ll need to find another moment alone. Where we won’t be interrupted, or she won’t feel embarrassed.”

Angelina nodded as she thought, her thumb under her chin and her finger under her nose. “She’s got detention with Umbridge tonight. Harry tells me her detentions go pretty late, so there’s a chance you’ll be able to catch her alone when she comes back.”

George nodded. “That might work.”

Angelina checked her watch before tossing her long braids over her shoulder. “Look I’m off to class,” she said as she stood before placing her hands on the table to lean close to George. “If you hurt her again, I’ll bloody kill you.”

George looked up at her, his eyes wide. Angelina didn’t always scare him, but in that moment she did. She didn’t put up with mistreatment when it came to her friends. She gave him a firm talking to the year before, after he’d broken up with Alicia.

Her demeanor suddenly changed, her lips stretching into a chipper smile! “See you!” she said before making off to class.

George decided to wait until that evening before talking to Fiona again. He mulled over what he would say for hours in the common room, even resorting to writing out a few sentences; that he was sorry for the way he treated her, that he’d had so much to say the night before, that he fancied her madly and wanted nothing more than to kiss her again. In the end, he scrapped everything, ripping the parchment from his notebook before crumpling it and tossing it in the fireplace.

By the time she returned to the common room he’d exhausted all ideas, and once he glanced at her, he realized it wasn’t the right time to profess his love for her anyway.

She stepped through the portrait hole into the vacant common room. It was nearly eleven thirty, way past curfew. George wondered if she would ever even return. He looked at her, the orange glow from the fire casting onto her face, reflecting off of the tears that streamed down her cheeks.

He stood so suddenly from the lounge chair, he hadn’t felt himself move. “Jackson?” he said softly.

She looked up at him, clutching her left hand with her right. At the sight of him, she began to sob, walking right up to him and nestling into his shoulder to cry.

George held his arms out, weary of what was happening before he wrapped his arms tightly around her. He held her close, his mind running down the list of things that could’ve happened. He wanted to know, but figured letting her cry wasn’t a bad idea. Besides, holding her close felt nice, even though she was inconsolable.

They stood there for a few minutes before she began to calm.

“What happened?” he asked softly.

Fiona parted from his embrace, wiping the tears that ran down her cheeks. “Umbridge,” she croaked. George frowned, guiding her to sit on the couch. “She booked me for detention for casting that jinx on Malfoy and company.” He nodded, following along. “She told me I’d be writing lines. I figured that’d be easy enough, but she wouldn’t let me use my quill. She gave me one of her own, but it didn’t have any ink.”

“What?” George said.

Fiona ignored him, continuing with her story. “She told me I wouldn’t need any. At first nothing was happening when I was writing, and then…” She trailed off, more tears running down her cheeks. “And then I felt a pain in my hand as I wrote. When I looked down at my hand I saw there was an engraving in my skin. And then, when I looked down at the paper, I realized that the red ink that was coming out of my quill was blood. My blood.” George breathed deeply, horrified by what he was hearing. “She made me keep writing, so I did. By the end, this was written on my hand.”

She held her left hand up to George, who took it in his palms. The skin was red, irritated, and swollen, but nothing was more disturbing than the fact that “I will not cast hexes” was engraved into it. His eyes widened at the sight before he pulled her in for a tight embrace.

“You should go to Madame Pomfrey,” he said.

She pulled away quickly. “No!” she said. “What if Umbridge tries to fire her? I can’t do that.”

“You have to do something,” he said, taking another look at her hand. “It could scar.”

Fiona sniffed. “It’ll be fine.”

“Not unless it gets infected, and then you’ll have to see Madame Pomfrey.” Fiona bit her lip before wiping away another dose of falling tears. “Come up to my room, I might have something.”

He took her uninjured hand, leading her up the stairs to his dorm. It helped that there were no enchantments on the boys’ rooms. They were outside the door when George hesitated, peaking his head into his room to make sure everyone was decent. In the end, everyone was already asleep, so he pulled her into the room, guiding her to the trunk at the end of his bed.

“Lumos, he whispered, before opening his trunk. Fred stirred behind his bed curtains, making George jump. Trying to explain this to his dorm mates would be too difficult. After rummaging about, he found his bottle of dittany, wound-cleaning potion, and murtlap. Taking a spare piece of gauze he was saving for a later invention, he dabbed all three onto it before applying it to the back of her hand. “Hold it there.”

Fiona winced as she pressed the gauze into her skin, but then relaxed once it started to heal.

“C’mon,” he said after closing the lid to his trunk, “I’ll walk you to your room.”

They walked slowly to the girls’ side, stopping just before the stairs.

“I can’t go up there,” he said. “Enchanted stairs.”

“Right,” she replied, lifting up the gauze to look at her hand. She winced, placing the gauze back down.

“Look if you’d like, I can get you more of this stuff tomorrow,” he offered, scratching the back of his head.

“Thanks,” she said without looking at him. “I’m sorry I cried.”

“Are you mad?” He replied, confused by her embarrassment. “If that happened to me, I’d cry too! I mean, to think that a teacher would… would—“

“Hurt a student?” She said, finally looking up at him. Her eyes eventually flicked away, looking out the window to watch the rain fall outside.

“It’s not your fault,” he replied suddenly. Her eyes remained fixed on the window, but a small smile curled the end of her lips.

“Thanks, Weasley,” she said before looking down at her shoes. “I’m tired. I think I’ll go to bed.”

“Right,” George replied, stepping back to let her up the stairs. “Sleep well.”

She paused halfway up the stairs. “You too,” she replied before turning and continuing towards her dormitory.

George watched her go, the scent of lavender lingering in the corridor.

Chapter Text

She woke the next morning, her hand still tingling but no longer in pain. The memory of the night before came flooding back to her. She groaned, rolling over into her pillow. Crying in front of George, how stupid. She had done it before, but usually had been able to pull herself together. Not last night. No, last night she totally collapsed. Maybe it was the fact she hadn’t eaten much that day. Maybe it was because she hadn’t slept. Whatever it was, she still collapsed in George’s arms, overwhelmed with emotion.

She’d never been hurt by a teacher before. Sure, she never felt safe in Umbridge’s class, but that didn’t mean Fiona wouldn’t feel betrayed by what the professor had done. It was magic she’d never seen before, but she admitted it was clever magic. Both clever and evil magic.

She hoped George didn’t think she was pathetic. He had been so nice to her, letting her cry, taking her to his room to treat her injured hand, walking her to the stairs, endlessly reassuring her it was okay to cry. Still, she felt like she’d overstepped.

Fiona sighed, listening to her roommates stir around her bed as they got ready for class. What would she say to them? She pulled open her bedcurtains and made her way into the loo, trying to avoid her roommates’ eyes.

When she came out, Lucy was sitting at the end of her bed, pulling on her shoes.

“Hiya, Jackson,” she smiled. Fiona smiled back. “How was detention?”

“Long,” Fiona replied, going to the chest at the end of her bed to pull out her clean school robes.

“Seemed like Umbridge kept you late,” Katie added, combing her hair into a ponytail, “we were asleep before you came back.”

Fiona didn’t respond, continuing to rummage through the chest.

“What’d she have yeh do?” Gemma asked. “Clean every nook and crannie?”

Fiona pulled out her uniform, throwing it on the bed before she turned.

“I wish it was that,” she smiled flatly, holding up her hand so they could see.

The girls frowned as they inspected her hand from afar. Lucy jumped off her bed, taking Fiona’s hand in hers so she could see. It wasn’t as red and irritated like the night before, but the engraving was still there.

“That fucking bitch,” Lucy spat under her breath. The other girls joined Lucy, studying Fiona’s hand like it was a science project.

“She did tha’?” Gemma asked, almost lost for words.

“Not technically,” Fiona said, pulling her hand away, “but yes. She did.”

“That’s got to be illegal,” Katie said, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’ve got to tell someone.”

“No,” Fiona replied. “Umbridge is the ‘high inquisitor’ or whatever. If I tell any other professor, she could fire them.”
Her roommates gave each other weary looks.

“Well,” Katie began softly, “Are you okay?” Fiona nodded. “And your hand? Should we go to Madame Pomfrey?”

Fiona shook her head again, taking a look at her hand. “I ran into George in the common room when I came back. He gave me some topicals.”

They all nodded quietly, but as Fiona turned to get dressed she could’ve sworn Lucy gave Gemma a knowing look.

They made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast, Fiona being sure to hide her hand in her robe. She trailed behind her roommates, looking over in the Ravenclaw table’s direction. Her brother was seated, in deep conversation with Cho. She wondered if she should tell him what happened, and as she pondered the thought she walked straight into a tall and sturdy figure.

“Woah!” George said, holding her up. “You alright?”

Fiona stumbled backward, dropping her backpack on to the ground, her books falling out of the pocket she’d forgotten to zipper. She groaned, ignoring George and kneeling down to pick up her History of Magic and her Divination book. He knelt down with her, handing her her DADA book and a few quills that had rolled away.

“Thanks,” she said under her breath as she took the quills from him.

George’s gaze lingered on her injured hand. “How is it?” he asked. Fiona tucked her hand away after throwing the last of her things in her back.

“Fine,” she said as she stood. “Thank you for your help last night.” Her eyes met his for a moment before they darted away, too overcome with embarrassment by what had happened the night before.

George nodded slowly, looking at her wearily. “Good.”

They stood awkwardly together as other students passed by them.

Fiona breathed in. “We should–” she pointed past him, over to where their friends sat.

“Er– right,” George replied, looking over his shoulder. “Right. Breakfast… Food.”

Fiona chuckled awkwardly. “Right,” she said, forcing a smile.

They silently walked over to the table where their friends sat, sitting themselves between Fred and Angelina.
They sat together quietly, participating in separate conversations when Hermione approached.

“Good morning, Hermione,” Fred charmed, a cunning grin stretching across his face.

“Mind if I have a word with all of you?” she said in a hushed tone. The expression she wore looked serious, but a glimmer of excitement remained in her eyes.

“Not at all,” Fred replied. He turned to find George and Lucy still deep in conversation. “Oi, Georgie! Future sister-in-law wants our attention!”

George turned, his eyebrows high. “Right-o?”

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes. Fiona assumed she’d gotten that remark before. “Listen,” she said quietly as she sat down at the table with everyone. “We all know we’re not learning anything in Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“No thanks to that wretch,” George said bitterly.

“Right,” Hermione agreed. “Well, it’s taken some convincing, but we’re forming a er… sort of secret club where we learn how to defend ourselves.”

“Brought Lupin back, have you?” Fred joked.

“No,” Hermione said definitively. “It’s Harry who’ll teach us.”

“Harry?” Angelina said, matching Hermione’s hushed tone. “You sure he won’t be in detention for it?” A bitterness lingered in her tone.

“Look,” Hermione said, ignoring Angelina’s quip, “Keep it a secret, but if you’re interested, meet us in the Hog’s Head this Saturday.”

“I’ll be there,” Fiona declared impulsively.

“Yeah!” George replied, a little too excitedly. “Me too.”

Fiona glanced at him, her eyes meeting his as others around them agreed to come. Their eyes remained locked on each other, and Fiona couldn’t help but smile at him. He smiled back.

“A bit exciting don’t you think?” Lucy said as they walked to class together.

“Yeah,” Katie replied, “I’ve never done something like this before. Sort of like breaking the rules.”

“It is breaking the rules,” Fiona snickered. The summer had made her quite experienced in rule breaking.

“Do you suppose Harry can really teach us something?” Gemma asked.

“I suppose,” Katie replied, walking into their History of Magic class. “He’s been through so much, hasn’t he?”

Fiona sat next to Lucy, watching as Apollo and Cho walked in, seating themselves on the other side of the class. She still figured she should tell him about what happened with Umbridge, but even more so that he should come to the meeting at the Hog’s Head.

She stopped him in the hallway after class.

“Paulie,” she said as she tried to catch up to him and Cho.

He turned to his name. “Ona,” he replied as he realized who it was.

“Has Hermione talked to you yet?” she asked.

He frowned. “No.”

She filled him in on everything; her hand, the secret club, trying to ignore Cho’s presence. Cho made her nervous. She was brilliant and beautiful, confident on a broom, and had a winning smile that could weaken the knees of any teen boy.

“She did that to you?” Apollo asked, taking her wrist to inspect the injury.

She pulled her hand away, ignoring his question. “So you’ll come?”

Apollo turned to look at Cho.

“I will,” Cho said suddenly, “If the invitation is extended?”

“Of course,” Fiona smiled. “Just keep it a secret. Paulie?”

“It’s risky,” he replied in a low voice, “but I’ll do it.”

Hogsmeade Weekend finally came, a chilly day, the students huddled close to each other to keep warm as they walked to the village. They had a few minutes before the secret meeting, so Fred, George, and Lee peeled off to Zonko’s while Fiona and the girls went to Madame Puddifoot’s for a hot tea.

“What do you suppose will happen at this meeting, anyway?” Lucy asked, her hands wrapped around her hot drink as they walked all the way to Hog’s Head.

“Maybe it’s just a feeler,” Katie replied, her hands in her coat pockets, “You know, just to see if it’s really a good idea?”

“Seems like a risky idea, doesn’t it?” Gemma asked, trailing just behind them.

“Yes but that’s Harry,” Angelina joked. “Always a risk taker.”

They entered the Hog’s Head, a dingy bar that was layered with grime. It was nowhere near as welcoming as the Three Broomsticks. The girls looked around at the ominous looking patrons, grouping closer to one another in discomfort. Fiona relaxed at the sight of Apollo, who stood awkwardly in the corner with Cho, who smiled at Fiona before giving her a small wave. It wasn’t long before more came through. Even Athena had showed up alongside Leanne. The room capped off with the Weasley twins and Lee.

“Hi,” Fred said as he approached the grumpy barman. “Could we have… twenty-five butter beers, please?”

The barman groaned before taking out bottle after bottle, the students lining up to grab one, not before Fred demanded everyone pay up.

“My boyfriend, the charmer,” Angelina retorted sarcastically.

The lot eventually settled around Harry, Ron, and Hermione, Fiona flashing a smile at Apollo, who looked miserable next to Cho’s curly headed friend, who conveniently sat herself between them.

They eventually quieted, eager to hear what Harry had to say, but it was Hermione who spoke first.

“Er… Well – er – hi!” she said nervously, her voice raised in pitch.

No one responded, still waiting to hear for something more to be said.

“Well . . . erm . . . well, you know why you’re here. Erm . . .” Fiona wished she’d just spit it out. “Well, Harry here had the idea — I mean” — I had the idea — that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defense Against the Dark Arts — and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us … because nobody could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts” —

“Hear, hear,” said another boy who agreed. Hermione smiled.
“Well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands.” She paused, looked sideways at Harry, and went on, “And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just theory but the real spells —”

“You want to pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. too though, I bet?” said a dark haired boy.

“Of course I do,” said Hermione at once. “But I want more than that, I want to be properly trained in Defense because . . . because . . .” She took a deep breath, “Because Lord Voldemort’s back.”

Fiona froze at the sound of his name but then relaxed, relieved that someone like Hermione too believed that he was back. She locked eyes with George, who gave her a flat smile. It wasn’t long before the room became fixated on Harry again. He looked older than Fiona’d recalled. Maybe that was the stiffness in his brow, or the muscles protruding has he clenched his jaw. But if anything he looked more sad.

“Well . . . that’s the plan anyway,” said Hermione. “If you want to join us, we need to decide how we’re going to —”

“Where’s the proof You-Know-Who’s back?” interrupted the blond boy who came in with Ginny.

“Well, Dumbledore believes it —” Hermione began.

“You mean, Dumbledore believes him,” replied the blond boy, nodding at Harry.

“Who are you?” said Ron rather rudely. Fiona snorted quietly at that. He had said exactly what she was thinking

“Zacharias Smith,” said the boy, “and I think we’ve got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who’s back.”

“Look,”Hermione quickly replied, “that’s really not what this meeting was supposed to be about —”

“It’s okay, Hermione,” Harry spoke. His arms were crossed in front of his chest. A moment passed before he sighed and stood a little straighter.

“What makes me say You-Know-Who’s back?” he asked, looking Zacharias straight in the face. “I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn’t believe him, you don’t believe me, and I’m not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone.”

A silence fell over the group as they all stared at Harry. It was brave of him to say, but in the end Fiona felt he shouldn’t have to defend himself. Harry uncrossed his arms, flashing the back of his hand that displayed the same injury she had. Fiona felt pity. It only made sense that he also had it. But it looked much worse, redder, rawer. Afterall, he had been in detention almost every night.

Zacharias said dismissively, “All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory’s body back to Hogwarts. He didn’t give us details, he didn’t tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we’d all like to know —”

“If you’ve come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can’t help you,” Harry said. Fiona cleared her throat ready to defend him, but he continued. “I don’t want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that’s what you’re here for, you might as well clear out.”

“So,” Hermione began uncomfortably, “So . . . like I was saying . . . if you want to learn some defense, then we need to work out how we’re going to do it, how often we’re going to meet, and where we’re going to —”

“Is it true,” a hufflepuff girl near Athena interrupted, “that you can produce a Patronus?”

Fiona looked at her roommates, who appeared stunned. Fiona herself had only done it once. And not for very long. It was not an easy task to commit.

“Yeah,” he replied, crossing his arms again.

“A corporeal Patronus?”

Harry hesitated. “Er — you don’t know Madam Bones, do you?” he asked.

The girl smiled. “She’s my auntie,” she said. “I’m Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So — is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?”

“Yes,” said Harry.

“Blimey, Harry!” said Lee with a grin as he turned to the twins. “I never knew that!”

Fred shrugged. “Mum told Ron not to spread it around,” he said before giving Harry a grin. “She said you got enough attention as it was.”

“She’s not wrong,” mumbled Harry and a couple of people laughed.

“And did you kill a basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore’s office?” demanded another boy. “That’s what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year. . . .”

“Er — yeah, I did, yeah,” Harry said quietly.

An impressed commotion commenced over the crowd.

“And in our first year,” said Neville to the group at large, “he saved that Sorcerous Stone —”

“Sorcerer’s,” Hermione corrected.

“Yes, that, from You-Know-Who,” finished Neville.

“And that’s not to mention,” began Cho “all the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year — getting past dragons and merpeople and acromantulas and things. . . .”

Harry’s eyes were locked on to Cho. Fiona knew what a boy looked like when he had a mad crush, and Harry exampled it just fine.

“Look,” he said once he’d snapped out of it. “I . . . I don’t want to sound like I’m trying to be modest or anything, but . . . I had a lot of help with all that stuff. . . .”

“Not with the dragon, you didn’t,” said one boy. “That was a seriously cool bit of flying. . . .”

“Yeah, well —” replied Harry.

“And nobody helped you get rid of those dementors this summer,” said Susan Bones.

“No,” he begrudgingly agreed, “no, okay, I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I’m trying to make is —”

“Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?” said Zacharias Smith.

“Here’s an idea,” said Ron loudly, a frown darkening his brow, “why don’t you shut your mouth?”

“Well, we’ve all turned up to learn from him, and now he’s telling us he can’t really do any of it,” he said.

“That’s not what he said,” snarled Fred Weasley.

“Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?” asked George, pulling a scary looking device from inside one of the Zonko’s bags. Fiona stifled a grin, admiring his innate sense of protectiveness over his somewhat-adopted brother.

“Or any part of your body, really, we’re not fussy where we stick this,” added Fred.

“Yes, well,” Hermione interrupted quickly, “moving on . . . the point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?”

Lucy turned to Fiona. “Will you?”

Fiona looked down at her hand, then back at Lucy before nodding her head.

“Right,” said Hermione with relief. “Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don’t think there’s any point in meeting less than once a week —”

“Hang on,” said Angelina, “we need to make sure this doesn’t clash with our Quidditch practice.”

“No,” said Cho with a nod, “nor with ours.”

“Nor ours,” added Zacharias Smith.

“I’m sure we can find a night that suits everyone,” said Hermione, impatience in her tone “but you know, this is rather important, we’re talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort’s Death Eaters —”

“Well said!” barked Ernie Macmillan, “Personally I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything else we’ll do this year, even with our O.W.L.s coming up!” Lucy and Katie rolled their eyes at that. “I, personally, am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher upon us at this critical period…”

“My god, does he ever shut up?” Lucy asked under her breath. Fiona stifled a giggle.

“We think the reason Umbridge doesn’t want us trained in Defense Against the Dark Arts,” said Hermione, “is that she’s got some . . . some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he’d mobilize us against the Ministry.”

“Well, that makes sense,” Luna spoke dreamily, “After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own private army.”

Fiona looked at Apollo who cringed.

“What?” said Harry.

“Yes, he’s got an army of heliopaths,” said Luna solemnly.

“No, he hasn’t,” snapped Hermione.

“Yes, he has,” said Luna, her dreaminess never fading.

“What are heliopaths?” asked Neville.

“They’re spirits of fire,” said Luna. “Great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of —”

“They don’t exist, Neville,” said Hermione tartly.

“Oh yes they do!” said Luna angrily.

“I’m sorry, but where’s the proof of that?” snapped Hermione.

“There are plenty of eyewitness accounts, just because you’re so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you —”

“Hem, hem,” said Ginny in her impression of Umbridge so convincing that Fiona jumped. “Weren’t we trying to decide how often we’re going to meet and get Defense lessons?”

“Yes,” said Hermione at once, “yes, we were, you’re right. . . .”

“Well, once a week sounds cool,” said Lee Jordan.

“As long as —” began Angelina.

“Yes, yes, we know about the Quidditch,” said Hermione irritably. “Well, the other thing to decide is where we’re going to meet. . . .”

Fiona thought for a moment.

“Library?” Katie suggested.

“I can’t see Madam Pince being too chuffed with us doing jinxes in the library,” said Harry.

“Maybe an unused classroom?” said Dean.

“Yeah,” said Ron, “McGonagall might let us have hers, she did when Harry was practicing for the Triwizard. . . .”

“Right, well, we’ll try to find somewhere,” said Hermione. “We’ll send a message round to everybody when we’ve got a time and a place for the first meeting.” She looked throug her bag before pulling out parchment and a quill, then hesitated. “I-I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think,” she took a deep breath, “that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we’re doing. So if you sign, you’re agreeing not to tell Umbridge — or anybody else — what we’re up to.”

At once, Fred and George came forward to sign their names, but others hesitated.

“Er . . .” said Zacharias slowly, not taking the parchment that George was trying to pass him. “Well . . . I’m sure Ernie will tell me when the meeting is.”

But Ernie was looking rather hesitant about signing too. Hermione raised her eyebrows at him. “I — well, we are prefects,” Ernie burst out. “And if this list was found . . . well, I mean to say . . . you said yourself, if Umbridge finds out . . .”

“You just said this group was the most important thing you’d do this year,” Harry reminded him.

“I — yes,” said Ernie, “yes, I do believe that, it’s just . . .”

“Ernie, do you really think I’d leave that list lying around?” said Hermione testily.

“No. No, of course not,” said Ernie, looking slightly less anxious. “I — yes, of course I’ll sign.”

More came forward to sign after that. Fiona herself signed not before handing the pen to Apollo. He hesitated, but eventually put quill to parchment.

After everyone had signed, Fiona put the parchment back into her bag.

“Well, time’s ticking on,” said Fred briskly, getting to his feet. “George, Lee, and I have got items of a sensitive nature to purchase, we’ll be seeing you all later.”

Fiona watched them leave, eager to follow, but her feet remained planted next to her roommates.

“C’mon,” Katie said as she pulled her coat on, “I want to go to the broom shop before it gets dark.”

Gemma carefully set down her bottle as if it were a sensitive explosive. “Can we at least go some place with unexpired bottles of butterbeer?”

Chapter Text

“She’s canceled quidditch, the crazy bitch!” Angelina huffed as she entered the common room, the Weasley’s and Alicia Spinnet behind her.

“Who has?” Fiona asked

“Umbridge,” George said from behind Angelina.

Fiona stood to approach them. “What about the secret meetings?” She asked in a low voice.

“Harry says it's still on,” Fred said, falling into a cushy red chair and throwing his feet up onto the ottoman.

“Who gives a flying piss about the meetings!” Angelina exclaimed, throwing her arms out in frustration. “Quidditch is canceled!”

“There there, Ange,” Alicia remarked, patting her shoulder.

George peeled away, pulling Fiona aside as Angelina continued to rage with George.

“So you’re doing it then?” He asked quietly, his hands in his pockets.

“Of course I am,” she looked down at her hand, the injury fading into a scar.

“Good.”

Fiona stifled a smile. “Sorry about quidditch,” she added quickly.

George shrugged, his grin fading only slightly. “There are more important things to worry about.” Fiona nodded. “Anyways, now I’ve got to find use for my time. Suppose I could do more with Fred on our inventions.”

“Suppose.”

He made a sideways glance, raising his eyebrows to create a facetious expression. ”unless, of course, there’s something else I could be doing…”

Fiona laughed, taking the bait. “Gee, I don’t know! George, would you want to hang out?” she asked sarcastically.

“Why Fiona, I’d say that’s a splendid idea,” he replied with an incredibly posh accent as he mimed smoking from a corncob pipe. “What do you suppose we do?”

“Say you help me with potions?”

George dropped the bit, frowning as he spoke. “Well that’s no fun, Jackson.”

Fiona thought for a moment. “Maybe I can go to Herbology club and show you what I’ve learned…? On the astronomy tower…?”

George grinned. “Now you’re talking,” he replied with a low voice. “This time, let's go to the kitchens after.”

“Deal,” She said, trying hard to suppress a grin. She didn’t want to give up how excited she was. For whatever reason, she felt that was sacred.

She’d secured the blunt from Athena after divination, promising she’d help her with homework in return. Athena was adamant about that, especially since Trelawney had completely checked out of actually attempting to teach. Something about the review Umbridge had done.

After dinner she raced to change and ran up to the astronomy tower, though when she got to the top, she realized she was underdressed. The rain had died down from earlier and the wind was mild, but it was the cool bite of the air that seeped into her bones. She decided to light up the joint before George got there, hoping it would warm her up.

“Couldn’t wait?” George said as he approached, his school bag over his shoulder.

Fiona turned, still leaning on the balcony railing. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m freezing. Thought this would warm me up.” She eyed the bag on his shoulder. “What’ you bring?”

George took the pack off his shoulder, placing it on the ground and tapping it with his wand. At once, the bag unzipped, a small lawn rug floating out and unrolling onto the floor. Along with the rug came a few silver tins, laying delicately on top of the neat plaid rug.

“Wot’s all this?” Fiona asked in a phony English accent. She tried to suppress the honest smile that was surfacing to her lips. He looked adorable, standing there with his striped button down, and an adorable grin that stretched ear to ear.

“Food from the kitchens,” he said. “And something else.” He tapped his bag with his wand, a potions text book floating out and laying gently on the rug.

“Potions?” Fiona said as she stepped closer to hand him the joint. He took it, his fingers touching hers for a moment.

“You said you wanted help,” he replied.

“I did, didn’t I,” she smiled, kneeling down on the blanket and picking up a tin.

“There’s finger sandwiches, cookies, crisps, and chocolate,” he said, pointing to each tin as he remained standing.

Fiona looked up at him smiling. He smiled back, but remained standing. She frowned. “Is this just for me, or are you going to sit?”

George laughed awkwardly, biting his lip. “Er… don’t laugh…” He said quietly. Fiona frowned and laughed in confusion. “So… Fred and I have made this Fever Fudge that’s supposed to give you fevers…”

“Uh huh…”

“...And well, we’ve been unable to aid the side effect…”

Fiona suppressed a grin. “Uh-huh….”

“Which is pus-filled boils that form on your…”

Fiona cringed. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So, I do want to sit it’s just…”

“You need help sitting.”

“Er… yeah.”

Fiona stood up, trying to ignore the idea of giggling. It was a rather gross thought, but the way George was going about it was hilarious. She stepped over the tins next to him, holding his arm as he slowly bent his knees.

“Ow, ow, ow…” he said with each beat until he was finally seated.

Fiona snickered silently before sitting opposite him. It was a small rug, so they were fairly close.

A quiet moment hung over them as they passed the joints and dug into their snacks. Eventually Fiona asked, “Ange told me you were able to have practice today.” George nodded. “How was it?”

“Soggy,” he replied. “Besides, riding a broom made my predicament–”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Fiona interrupted, suppressing a laugh. George grinned awkwardly. Fiona continued, worried she’d embarrassed him too much. “Suprised you even went forward with practice, it was raining so hard.”

“Considering Umbridge almost cut us for good,” he replied as he reached for a finger sandwich, “there was no way Angelina wouldn’t force us to practice.”

“Don’t know how she managed last year,” Fiona added, reaching for her own sandwich, “since there wasn’t any quidditch at all.”

George shrugged. “She wasn’t captain last year, so I suppose she wasn’t as worried.”

“Suppose,” she agreed, reaching for a couple of crisps. They ate quietly together, and Fiona found herself finally able to take the scene in.

“Why all this?” she asked. George looked down at the tin and the rug. “I thought we were just going to smoke.”

“I thought sitting could be nice,” he shrugged.

Fiona frowned. “But you can hardly sit as is,” she replied, motioning to the awkward seated position he was in. “And why the food? I thought we were going to the kitchens after?”

“Er… I was hungry.”

Fiona shook her head. “We just had dinner.”

George groaned. “Blimey, Jackson!” He exclaimed, looking up at the tower’s ceiling. Fiona blinked, surprised by his outburst. “Merlin forbid a lad try to impress you!”

“Impress me?” She laughed. “Why would you want to impress me?”

“You’re serious?” He said, a little irritated. Fiona nodded with a frown, still confused about what he was getting at. George shook his head before taking a long drag of the joint. “Never you mind,” he sighed, handing the joint back.

Fiona felt confused as she took the hit, but maybe that was the effects of the weed hitting her.

“Let’s crack this open, shall we?” George said, picking up the potions book and flipping it open. He was less irritated now, but Fiona could tell an edge still remained him. “What are you learning now?”

“Love potion,” she replied, still studying his demeanor.

He snorted once before flipping to the page. “Figures,” he said under his breath. Fiona noticed he was cleanly shaven. It didn’t look bad, but the stubble suited him better. Her heart thumped as she made a new realization. It only made sense, and, after all, she had her suspicions.

“Weasley,” she began, her voice smaller than before. He looked up at her, his blue eyes glimmering in the low evening light. “When you’d said this was all to impress me… is it because, well, maybe you fancy me?”

“Welcome to the plot, Jackson,” he replied without blinking.

Fiona hesitated. “But… I thought you didn’t. At least last year you said you hadn’t.”

George sighed. “I was a right foul git last year.” Fiona swallowed hard as she digested it all. Her heart beat quickly, and she began to shake. George hesitated at the sight, his demeanor lightening. “You cold?” Fiona didn’t respond. She wasn’t sure if she was cold, or excited, or scared. Without saying anything, and with minimal struggle, George scooted over to Fiona, placing his coat onto her shoulders.

She turned to face him, his face inches from her, still shaking. She looked at his lips, the red stubble just starting to grow back. “You should let your beard grow out,” she said.

George looked at her, surprised by this remark. “Okay,” he replied.

At once their arms were around each other, lips locked. Fiona hardly saw it happen, but she didn’t fight it. She wanted nothing more than to stay in his embrace, his lips pressed on to hers, his hands on her back. She then grabbed his collar and pulled him closer to her, suddenly wanting to intertwine herself with him. The more she pulled the harder he kissed, and it wasn’t long before she felt his hands slip under her shirt and up her back. And suddenly she was back in the greenroom, forcibly pressed up against the wall, Kyle’s hips grinding into hers.

“No wait,” she said, pulling away. George too pulled away, his eyes wide. Her heart pounded and her body continued to shake. And all of the sudden, tears began to form in her eyes.

“Jackson, are you alright?” He asked softly, his eyes wide with concern. “Did I come on too strong?” Fiona felt herself choke on her words, her tears falling down her cheeks. “Did I hurt you?”

Fiona shook her head. She felt paralyzed; pissed that such a memory would interrupt this moment, a moment she hadn’t quite realized she’d been waiting for. Moreso, she was embarrassed that she had to stop. George looked at her, his eyebrows raised with worry. “I have to go,” she said before standing and running away, leaving George on the tower.

“Jackson, wait!” He had called as she ran, but given his predicament, there was no way he could catch up to her. Or so she believed. She had made it down the stairs and around the corner when George caught her wrist.

“No, George,” she said through tears as she tried to pull out of his grip. “Just let me go.”
“I can’t,” he said as he pulled her back, his hands now on her shoulders. Fiona worked hard to avoid his gaze. “I can’t mess this up again.” She gave up trying to run, though she still wouldn’t look at him.

They were in the vacant hall just below the astronomy tower. The torches were lit fairly low, and all Fiona could see was the incandescent light that revealed George’s concerned expression.

“I cocked up last time, Jackson,” he continued. Fiona looked away. “I had you, and then I lost you, and then I had you, and then… I can’t lose you again. I won’t lose you again.” Fiona inhaled deeply, the tears now streaming down her face. “What’s happened? Have I done something?”

“You…” Fiona began, wiggling out of his grip to sit on the window ledge. He didn’t follow. She breathed once more, trying to collect her thoughts. She was mortified of what she was about to explain. “You haven’t done anything.” He remained standing there, his eyebrows high. “Remember the situation I got into this summer?” He nodded once. “Every once in a while I’ll get a flash back.”

He stiffened. “A flashback?”

“To the green room. When… he…” She squeezed her eyes shut trying to make the fear go away.

“Stop,” he said suddenly, taking her healing hand. Fiona looked up at him, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the other. “You don’t need to tell me everything if it hurts too much.”

Fiona nodded, finally starting to calm. Her head felt only a little clearer, and she felt even more embarrassed. “I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I…”

“Not at all,” George said as he squeezed her hand. “I’m still mad for you.” Fiona smiled up at him as he smirked at her, her heart fluttering at the sound of those words. His nose looked strong in the low torch light, and his jaw even stronger. “Look, let’s just try again another time. A proper date, yeah?”

Fiona nodded again, her smile feeling stronger than before. “Don’t tell me you’re going to take me to Zonko’s.” She said as she stood.

George laughed, standing so that he towered over her. “Zonky’s is mint, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

They continued to joked with each other as they made their way back to the common room. Fiona felt shy around him again, wondering if she should hold his hand or not.

When they approached the portrait, he paused.

Fiona looked up at him, his face stoic. “You okay?”

He turned to her quickly, like he snapped out of a daze. “Can we wait to tell everyone until after our first date?”

Fiona smiled and frowned. “Okay…”

“I love our friends, but they can be a bit…”

“Opinionated,” Fiona answered.

“Right.”

She chuckled, “I wouldn’t mind waiting to tell Lucy,” she admitted. “She can be a bit…”

“Opinionated,” George answered that time.

Fiona laughed bashfully. “Well, we can at least walk in together,” she said, stepping towards the portrait before being pulled back by the arm, George planting one last delicate kiss onto her lips.