"What's going on?" Anthony asked anxiously when he saw his best friend again in the common room. "Are you okay?"

Terry gave him a watery smile, and replied

"Yeah, I'm fine."

He sat down, one hand on his thigh where the letter was folded in his pocket. Anthony looked curious, but shrugged. He turned to talk to Michael, leaving Terry to his own thoughts. Terry swallowed. How could he leave the best friends he'd ever had? But he knew his parents didn't approve, they never had…

FLASHBACK

"Mommy!" Terry called, giggling to himself "Mommy, look!"

His mother shrieked as she saw the teddy bear floating in mid air. She backed against the wall, her eyes wide and frightened, holding her crucifix necklace in front of her as if to ward away her own son. Terry looked confused, his little arms held out to her. Her scared eyes met his pleading ones, and she looked away, chanting bible passages under her breath. The toy fell with a flop to the floor. Terry took an uncertain step forward and she fled, catching up the phone to call the vicar. Terry sat alone in his nursery, confused as to what he had done to upset her, sorry for whatever sin he had just committed.

Terry shook his head sadly. His parents were strict Christians and they saw all witchcraft as work of the devil. As he grew up, and more strange things happened around him, they tried to ignore it in hope that it would go away. But when he turned eleven, they found out that he was a wizard. He saw again his parents' shocked white faces, muttering behind closed doors as he sat alone and afraid, reading his Hogwarts letter, Bible quotes flicking through his mind.

"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live"

"There shall not be found among you any one that maketh his son or his daughter to pass through the fire, or that useth divination, or an observer of times, or an enchanter, or a witch."

"And he caused his children to pass through the fire in the valley of the son of Hinnom: also he observed times, and used enchantments, and used witchcraft, and dealt with a familiar spirit, and with wizards: he wrought much evil in the sight of the Lord, to provoke him to anger."

For a while he convinced himself that he was evil, bound for Hell, demon spawn. But then he began to see that maybe his parents were wrong. And he had chosen to go to Hogwarts. He had argued for a long time before they grudgingly allowed him to go. And now they wanted him to come home, after he had made friends, grown roots in the school. Hogwarts was where he belonged now. He had tried to explain this in his letters, to tell his mother that he was happy. But clearly she wouldn't be happy until he was back at home.

Terry blinked back tears. Anthony was looking at him again, mixed concern and confusion showing in his face. Terry attempted a grin, his face muscles seeming oddly unfamiliar, as if he was moving them by way of marionette strings. He tried again. It seemed a little better this time. Anthony didn't seem satisfied, but he turned away nevertheless. Terry pulled out the book he had got from the library, merely to distract himself. Above the stern warning from the school librarian was a list of those who had borrowed the book. He wasn't surprised to see that the Gryffindor captain Oliver Wood was on the top of the list.

Terry frowned slightly, his slender fingers flicking absently through the yellowing pages. Every now and again he caught a glimpse of Anthony watching him from his armchair, turning quickly away as Terry looked up. Terry sighed softly, stopping halfway through the book and reading about the position Chaser.

Chaser is the oldest position in Quidditch he read before his mind began to wander again. He forced himself to look back to the text, but the words were blurred in his mind and he couldn't read them. He narrowed his eyes, trying to concentrate, thumping his fingertips on the worn spine of the book.

"Look Terry, are you sure you're okay?" asked a voice next to his ear. Terry jumped. When did Anthony get behind him? His best friend was biting his lip, a tentative hand stretched toward Terry. Terry sighed, closing the book and laying it on his knee.

"Anthony, quit nagging. I'm all right, really." he insisted. Anthony drew back his hand with a frown.

"No Terry, you're not. You've been acting spaced out for ages. Ever since you got that letter…"

Terry scowled, his blue eyes clouding over.

"I said I'm fine. Just leave me alone," he snapped. Anthony looked hurt, and Terry regretted it. He shouldn't take it out on Anthony.

"Ant, I'm sorry," he muttered after an awkward pause. Anthony nodded.

"It's okay Terry. I was being nosy. I understand if you don't want to tell me."

He got up, giving Terry a nervous pat on the shoulder and turning to go. He grabbed his bag and left, sneaking another look at Terry out of the corner of his eye. Terry's head was bowed over the small green book, his hands clasped in his lap. Anthony frowned sadly as he walked away, not looking back again. Terry looked up suddenly. He knew what he had to do. His lips twisted in a small smile as he opened his school bag, looking for parchment and ink.

The library was dark, shafts of light illuminating the specks of dust in the air. Rows and rows of books, precisely ordered by Madam Pince, stood undisturbed, their leather spines well polished and gold lettering shining through the dingy air. One small book looked particularly battered; its green spine had several scratches and its title was barely legible. Sarah Fawcett ran her hand across the books until her hand closed on what she was looking for. With a small smile, she drew Quidditch through the Ages off the shelf and flicked through it. She frowned as a piece of parchment fell out of the pages, fluttering slowly to the ground. She picked it up, holding it up to the light.

"Anthony!" she called, winding her blue and bronze tie around her fingers "Anthony, come and look at this!"

He boyfriend got to his feet, walking over to stand by her side.

"Quidditch through the Ages…" he murmured sadly as he recognised the small book and remembered the last time he had seen it. He took the parchment she had found, his eyes widening as he scanned the neat cursive handwriting. Sarah looked anxiously at him.

"What is it, Ant?" she asked, as he read Terry's letter again, his hands trembling. He folded the parchment and slipped it into his trouser pocket, his lip quivering.

"I need to go, Sarah. I'll see you in the common room."

He left hurriedly, his mind working and his eyes closed, not concentrating on where he was going. So Terry hadn't left without saying goodbye after all. Anthony hoped that his best friend was all right, and wondered if he missed Anthony as much as Anthony missed him.