Chapter 2

The tall blond witch wearing Quidditch practice robes and sitting across from two dark-haired Ravenclaws pointed at the picture of a fat, broad faced baby and asked seriously, "Isn't he precious? I never thought Violetta and Hilliard would be able to produce something this decent really."

Wendelin Burke and Dreda Yaxley exclaimed in unison, "Rosamunde!"

Rosamunde Dawlish shrugged her shoulders and replied defensively, "Well Violetta is normal enough, but Hilliard is really the oddest wizard. Of course the entire Hobday family is strange, but Father was too thrilled that they'd married Violetta off to a wizard after her last boyfriend."

Wendelin finished chewing a mouthful of toast and asked, "The Muggle musician?"

"Yes. I don't know how Violetta could stand it. He was always touring with his band anyway."

Dreda considered the picture of the ugly baby and said thoughtlessly, "I don't know why anyone would want to date a Muggle really, even one who writes romantic Mugglish songs about you. But I'm sure Egmont will be very normal, Rosamunde, despite Hilliard's contribution. Is he walking yet?"

Rosamunde looked somewhat irritated, but said only, "No, but Grandmother is ever so pleased because she is convinced that Egmont changed the mashed beets and liver that Violetta was feeding him into treacle porridge."

Wendelin grimaced and choked on her muffin. Dreda pulled a face and asked, "Did he, you think?"

Rosamunde, who still had not touched the food she had piled on her plate, replied, "Well if someone were feeding you beets and liver, wouldn't you?"

Wendelin, who had just stopped coughing, added, "Anyone would."

Dreda nodded. "So he is already showing signs of magic though? That's excellent."

Rosamunde pushed aside her eggs with a fork and replied, "Yes. Violetta didn't display the smallest bit of magical ability until she was five. Father was very afraid that it was Mother's influence, of course, since the Dawlishs are typically very magical. But then Violetta did get Sorted into Hufflepuff, poor darling, and one can't expect much from that lot."

Wendelin, who was the only Ravenclaw in a mixed family of Hufflepuffs and Slytherins said warningly, "Rosa."

Dreda, who was also the first Ravenclaw in her family, said gently, "Rosamunde didn't mean that all Hufflepuffs are stupid, Wen. But you wouldn't rather be in Hufflepuff would you? I know I'm glad I didn't get Sorted into Slytherin, although Uncle Edmund is still so appalled that a Yaxley could be Sorted anywhere else that he swears that the Sorting Hat must have been Confunded."

Rosamunde sighed and pushed away her plate. "The first reserve practice of the year and I can't eat a thing. Davies is in a right state about Flint being back. I don't want to think about what it is going to be like this morning. He wants all of us reserves to be fit to fly at a second's notice."

Wendelin snorted. "Honestly, how thick do you have to be to fail all of your NEWTs? I heard that he got a Troll in History."

Rosamunde laughed loudly, "Well he looks like a troll, so that isn't surprising."

As Wendelin and Rosamunde continued to snigger, Dreda looked surreptitiously over at the Slytherin table where she could see the wide shoulders and dark hair of Marcus Flint, who was facing away from them. She could make out from his posture that he was unhappy about something and speaking angrily to another large dark-haired Slytherin, who she thought was named Montague.

"Are you two coming down to the pitch? Because it is time for me to go. Davies will have my broom if I'm late again."

Wendelin and Dreda both finished a last mouthful of breakfast and stood up to follow Rosamunde from the Great Hall. As Dreda stepped backwards from the table and bent to get her bag, she heard a chair scrape forcefully and something being dropped loudly on a table. When she stood up and looked about, she noticed Marcus striding angrily towards the door to the Great Hall. Following Rosamunde and Wendelin, Dreda reached the door just as Marcus was pushing it open to exit.

However as he began to walk through the door, Rosamunde said nastily, "Such a gentleman, Flint."

Turning round with a look of malice that made even Rosamunde step back, Marcus opened his mouth to speak and then stopped. Dreda watched a confused expression come over his face as he said, "Dreda, erm, I didn't see you." Then with a hasty shove, he opened the door again and awkwardly stood back.

After only a moment of hesitation, Dreda grabbed Wendelin's arm, walked through the door, and turned her head to look behind her. Marcus had pushed through the door directly after Wendelin and allowed it to close behind him so that Rosamunde had to catch it quickly before it could hit her in the face.

Fixing Marcus with an angry glare, Dreda said, "Are you alright, Rosa?"

Rosamunde turned on Marcus with a snarl, "You really are a troll, aren't you? It's a wonder you can even lace your boots without help. Just you watch out on the pitch, Flint, because Ravenclaw are looking forward to sweeping you lot in November."

Wendelin grabbed Rosamunde's arm, saying, "Rosa! That's enough. You were meant to be at practice five minutes ago."

Dreda watched Marcus as he looked with pure loathing at her friend before he answered, "Too bad you aren't good enough to be out there with Ravenclaw during the game, Dawlish. Looks like you'll be spared what Slytherin has to offer this time."

Wendelin tugged determinedly on Rosamunde's arm and said in a loud whisper, "You can't be caught for fighting again, Rosa! They'll finally drop you from the reserves." Rosamunde glared at Marcus, pulled herself free of Wendelin's grasp, and turned to leave.

Deciding that her pity for Marcus had been mistakenly placed, Dreda turned abruptly to follow her friends outside. She could hear a grunt behind her and a thud, so she looked back momentarily to see that Marcus had apparently banged his head against the stone wall of the corridor and was standing with his head leaning against his hands on the wall. Unconcerned with what Marcus was doing to himself, Dreda jogged ahead to catch up with her friends as they headed down to the practice pitch.

"If someone asked you to go to Hogsmeade though, would you?"

Dreda peered at Rosamunde, who was gazing out the window of their dorm room. "I don't know. That would depend on who asked, of course. But really, I'd rather if we all just went together like we usually do."

"Wendelin is going with Dom Bradley, remember?"

"No, you didn't tell me! You finally convinced him to ask her?"

Rosamunde turned her head back towards Dreda and replied, "Yes, the stupid prat was so afraid that she would say no even though I told him she was interested. You wouldn't think someone who was such an excellent Chaser would be so hen-hearted about asking a witch out."

Dreda nodded, "Especially since he's known her for years. I'm glad he did though; she'll be so pleased. You aren't sorry you turned down Warrington, are you?"

"No. Even if I didn't mind that Warrington is about as intelligent as a Horklump, or that he purposely sent that Quaffle at my head so I would fall off my broom last year when I was in for MacGruder, or that his laugh sounds like a goat, I wouldn't go anywhere with anyone that is friends with that great hulking beast, Flint. Not a chance."

Dreda shrugged. "Right. So we'll go together then."

"Yes. You, me, Jonathan, and Barbary."

"Wait, why is Harold coming? He didn't break up with Edra again, did he?"

Rosamunde finished the last bite of her Chocolate Frog and tossed the Famous Wizard card on her bed. "She turfed him this time. She wanted him to ask his brother for tickets for the next show, but he wouldn't."

"Why not? Heathcote is nice enough; he'd give them to Harold."

Rosamunde hesitated for a moment as she tried to decide whether a brownish coloured Bertie Botts' was safe to eat. "But you know Barbary, he's always afraid that people are friends with him because of his brother."

Dreda nodded. "He's probably right some of the time. Well, at least no one wants to be friendly with me due to my family. Do you remember the summer after our first year when Father found Wen feeding his Augurey a Gobstone? I was so afraid that she wouldn't want to speak to me at school after that, regardless of being cousins."

Rosamunde smiled grimly, "I had forgot about that. But I suspect that Wen is used to wizards like your father considering her own family."

Dreda took a handful of Bertie Botts' from Rosamunde's proffered box. "Well the Burke family, yes. Some of Mother's relatives are really quite unpleasant. But Uncle Hubert is much nicer than my other Burke uncles and Aunt Althea was a Rufford, who are quite a normal sort of family. All of Wen's sisters are quite nice, I think."

"But her brothers."

Dreda shrugged, "Not much worse than Eldred and Wilfred, really. Are you going to keep your Wizard Card? Because Wen's youngest sister is starting a collection and she probably doesn't have a Bragge."

Rosamunde flicked the card onto Dreda's bed and asked, "So no one has asked you for the Hogsmeade weekend?"

Dreda looked suspiciously at Rosamunde. "Why?"

"No reason."

Dreda sat up from leaning over to put the card in her trunk. "Why, Rosa?"

"Well I thought that there was someone who was going to ask you, that's all."

Dreda said uncomfortably, "Well I don't know how you know about that."

Rosamunde's expression became very confused. "Well of course I know. He has pestered me about whether you were interested."

Dreda stared at Rosamunde for a moment before replying, "We can't be talking about the same person."

Rosamunde sat up and clapped her hands happily, "Oh, who is it? Who asked you? You aren't going to go with him?"

Dreda shook her head, "No. I told him that I don't like people who are not nice to my friends."

Rosamunde's expression clouded again. "Oh, do I know this person?"

Dreda sighed. "Yes, but it doesn't matter. I'm not going with him. Who did you think was going to ask me?"

Rosamunde shrieked, "You can't not tell me!"

Dreda stood up from the bed and said firmly, "No, I am not going to embarrass him, Rosa."

"Etheldreda!"

"Now if you would tell me who you thought would ask me that would be far more interesting."

Rosamunde huffed with irritation and said, "Well he doesn't want you to know he is interested in you because he is afraid you would say no."

Dreda pulled a sour face. "Well that's rather pathetic. If he doesn't ask then he'll never know."

Rosamunde started to respond, but stopped when the door to the bedroom began to open. "There you are, Wen. Where have you been?"

Wendelin sat down on Dreda's bed with an exhausted sigh. "I was talking to Dom."

Rosamunde tilted her head and said wryly, "That doesn't sound good for Bradley. What did he do?"

Wendelin looked surprised. "Oh, Dom didn't do anything wrong. He's sort of sweet really, don't you think? It was when some of the Slytherin team passed us and wanted to start something. What's that big dark one that looks like a gorilla?"

Rosamunde said with narrowed eyes, "Warrington."

"Maybe. Anyway, he looked to be in a real nark about something. I think they might have actually started a duel there in the courtyard if those two ginger-headed Gryffindors from the team hadn't come up to stand with Dom."

"The Weasley twins? They are more likely to start trouble then stop it."

Wendelin waved her hand dismissively, "Nevertheless those two came over to support Dom and then Flint came along and told the other Slytherins to shove off. I was never more surprised. I had to drag Dom away from it though, because the Weasleys seemed inclined to finish with Flint."

Dreda spoke for the first time, "Did they?"

Wendelin replied, "No. Flint went off with his Slytherins and he didn't look too pleased with them either."

Rosamunde snorted, "Probably didn't want them brawling where they could get caught so easily. But you and Dom are together then?"

Wendelin blushed slightly. "Not exactly together. We haven't done anything but take a walk round the lawns. But I like him."

Dreda commented seriously, "I like Dom Bradley. He seems like a decent bloke and he's not the sort of Quidditch player who thinks only of Quidditch."

Wendelin dug into Rosamunde's box of Bertie Botts' and answered as she bit into a dark green one, "Exactly. Eurgh, this one tastes like moss."

"Dreda?"

Lifting her head from her pillow and pulling back the curtains so she could see Rosamunde, Dreda replied softly, "Yes?"

Rosamunde's voice was uncertain as she asked, "You know it was Jonathan who was going to ask you, don't you?"

Dreda flopped back onto her pillow. "Yes."

"I thought so. You acted differently round him today. Barbary even noticed it. I thought you liked Jonathan."

Dreda heard her friend's voice too clearly and had an idea that she was not the only witch in the room who was listening. "I do, he is very nice. But I don't like him in quite that way. I'm glad he didn't ask me to Hogsmeade, since I would have felt like I ought to say yes. It would have been a bad plan, Rosa."

Rosamunde asked in a whisper that was still a little too loud, "Are you interested in someone else?"

Dreda closed the curtains to her bed with one hand as she replied, "Can't we talk about this tomorrow, Rosa?"

There was silence for a few moments before Dreda heard the reply, "Yes, but don't think that I will let this go."

"I don't. Good night, Rosa."