My face was so red by this point I would have been worried it would explode if I wasn’t being publically humiliated in front of the entire school as James Potter wheezed laughter five feet away from me.

It took less than twelve hours for it all to catch up to me

“Actually, Potter, the reason I’m always in the library is because everyone seems to want to claw my eyes out whenever they see me. Now, whose fault is that?”

Oh sweet holy wonderful Merlin; why? What have I ever done to you?

And for the first time I saw what Fitz had tried to tell me all those weeks ago; James Potter was not a bad person.

“Why didn’t you just use the oven?”

“Sylvia Plath,” Fitz said in explanation.

Resolve, people, as taught by Whatever-His-First-Name-Is Fitzroy.

I thought it was quite mature of me to settle for sitting and glowering at my coffee as though it had personally offended me.

He and I both knew he had no idea what was going on. I was also sure neither of us cared.

I sighed and contemplated flinging Fitz from the Quidditch stands.

I was dreaming of the Riviera and liquorice wands when it happened.

This was going to be a long Christmas.

I was going to murder Charles.

I would fight it with everything I had and Merlin save whoever stood in my way. 

This was the last time he was coming home.

I realised something then, looking between Jillian and Andrea.