A/N: Hey guys—
Late again, but for a good reason: I had basketball tryouts this week. Good news, I made varsity. Bad news, I've got practice FIVE FREAKING DAYS A WEEK. God help me. My arms are in an impossible amount of pain.
Also, just to clear this up because there was some (extremely understandable) confusion: Fred Weasley mentioned in my story is not George Weasley's twin, but his son. According to a family tree of the Weasley Family made my JKR (anything written to her is akin to my holy text) this is the Weasley family tree:

Harry & Ginny-James Sirius, Albus Severus, and Lily Luna Potter
Ron & Hermione-Rose and Hugo Weasley
George & Angelina-Fred and Roxanne Weasley
Percy & Audrey- Molly and Lucy Weasley
Charlie Never has children
Bill & Fleur- Victoire, Dominique and Louis Weasley

By the way, if this gets confusing again, further on, feel free to message me. :)

xoxo

Worry About It Later

"It's easy to blame chaos on the ones with cloaks and daggers
who push the hidden hands that hold the strings of ultimate control
when you ain't got love."
—brakesbrakesbrakes

"Hogwarts, A History says that the Hogwarts Express has been taken students to Hogwarts for the last two hundred years." Cormac told me quietly as we stood on Platform 9 ¾. Cory, Rose and I were waiting to get on the train, while Rose's brother Hugo talked to his friends a few feet away; Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were putting Cory's, Rose's, Hugo's and my things on the train for us. Awfully kind of them, considering that I was still not particularly pleased with their guardianship of me.

I'd kind of been weird about that, actually: I hadn't told Cormac that our parents no longer had custody of us. And perhaps even worse, I didn't feel bad about it: I was just protecting him. The fact of it was, Cory was eleven. It'd only been a week and a half since Dad had hurt my wrist, had kicked me out of the house and scared Cory out of his mind—I wasn't going to add to his mental trauma. Cormac was acting like everything was A-Okay, but I knew better. It was a Gale family trait, keeping your emotions hidden. And Cormac had inherited it in spades.

I planned on hiding it from him for a while, and as part of that—I had to still send Cormac home for break. Not only because I was trying to hide the custodial issue from him, but I could tell that he missed Nate and Mum and Dad and Cal and Ellie. He'd never admitted to that, but he'd had a couple nightmares. He hadn't even told me about those—he'd woken up in tears once, and it'd woken me up. Poor kid was pretty distressed. And I was going to take every precaution to keep him from being unhappier.

I wasn't sure, however, how the Weasleys would feel about my sending Cormac back to our family, even for just two weeks. It wasn't that I cared personally. No matter who had legal custody, my family was my family, and everyone else was just—around. But I'd known Mrs. Weasley long enough to understand that she wouldn't just let something she was uncomfortable with sit. She and Mr. Potter had already removed me from my parents' custody and not told me until the deed had been done. Who knew what she'd do about me sending Cory home over the holidays?

"Before that there were no wards on apparition," Cormac continued, and I pulled him against me, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. Cormac loved information when he was facing a new situation, and he loved sharing that information. Sometimes it was adorable, even endearing, when he spurted these random facts that no one gave a damn about. But right then, all it was doing was making me a little homicidal. "And there were also no wards on the Hogwarts grounds against apparition so students just apparated to school instead of taking the Hogwarts Express but then a student named Lola Lopez spliced herself going to Hogwarts and her toes and nose all ended up in America and they only ever found her big toes so—"

"Hush." I ordered, but Cory just glanced up at my questioningly. "Alright, kiddo, you're not reading that anymore." I told him, shooting Rose, beside me, a bewildered look, and she laughed softly. I was still confused though: how could your nose and toes get spliced?

"Is that possible?" Rose asked, frowning. She was still hung up on the splicing thing too.

"It most certainly is!" Mrs. Weasley said in a scolding voice. "Which is why underage witches and wizards aren't supposed to apparate!" Mrs. Weasley continued firmly as she walked up, shooting me a serious look. Mrs. Weasley had given a hundred thousand little hints like that: I got the message already. I didn't regret disapparating though. It'd helped my little brother.

"Hermione, love, she gets the message," Mr. Weasley said gently, coming up beside her and capturing her hand in his. I liked Mr. Weasley—he was really easy-going, and loved hearing about my brothers. When I'd been younger and been a little stupider, I'd wished that he was my own dad—but, of course, now that he was the male half of my legal guardians, all I wanted was for him to get the hell away from me.

Mr. Weasley looked at his daughter. "Rosie, angel, do me a favor and treat the prefect badge well, hmm?" Mr. Weasley said with a smile, obviously switching subjects, and Rose gave an uncertain smile to her father. Her prefect badge was carefully hidden in her bag—she'd not wanted to wear it so she'd wrapped it in a sweatshirt and hidden it at the bottom of her bag. Rose liked to consider herself something of a rebel—and this prefect badge was just completely contradicting that. I also knew her well enough to know that she'd rather die than report someone—there were going to be no detentions given out by the Gryffindor prefects.

The fact that Rose had even gotten a prefect badge had surprised both her and her parents—she was smart, but not really well-behaved. Unfortunately, though, the only other person eligible for her badge was me: there had to be one girl prefect and one boy prefect from each house, from each year, starting in fifth year. And I didn't qualify for it, because I had a "certain disdain for authority" (direct quote from the aging Professor Sinistra, who taught me Astronomy, one of my least favorite subjects).

"Or at least don't lose it, Love," Mrs. Weasley said fretfully, reaching out to smooth down her daughter's hair, and Rose shrugged uncomfortably, pulling away from her mother. "I know you're not very pleased about it, but it's an honor—"

"Mm-hmm." Rose agreed vaguely.

"And never be late for your nightly rounds—" Rose made a choking noise.

"Nightly rounds?" She demanded.

"Prefects have to make them every night." I said to her, smothering a mocking smile, and she wailed softly, all façade of trying to impress her parents with her calmness gone.

"I'm not giving up my evenings—" Rose protested, sounding alarmed, and I couldn't help but laugh a little at how dramatic she sounded. "No—c'mon—can I just return the stupid badge? I'll be a miserable prefect, you know that Mum—I'll just give it back to Uncle Neville and it'll be fine—" Mrs. Weasley glared at her, and Rose, realizing that this wasn't an option, looked at me desperately. "Want it?"

"Absolutely not." I scoffed, snorting in laughter, and Mrs. Weasley shifted her glare to me. I almost rolled my eyes—I couldn't win with this woman, she wanted her kid to want the prefect badge and she wanted everyone else to want it too?—but instead I fell silent, meeting her gaze firmly. I wasn't scared of Mrs. Weasley. She might have been ridiculously smart and a war hero and my legal guardian, but I was just as strong-willed as she was.

Mrs. Weasley glared at me for a moment longer before looking away first, and I glanced down at my brother, dropping my arm from around Cory's shoulders. "Kid, let's go get on the train, alright?" I said with a small smile. "We'll find you a compartment and I'll save us one, alright, Rosie?" I suggested, glancing up at Rose.

"I have to sit with the stupid prefects in the stupid prefect car…" Rose said in an irritated voice.

"Who am I supposed to be sitting with then, oh best friend of mine?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. I supposed I knew this—prefects sat in the prefect car. But I hadn't really applied that knowledge to Rose.

"We always sit with the boys anyway, just sit with them." Rose said, waving her hand at me.

"I'm not sitting with Albus and Fred without you." I said carefully, enunciating my words perfectly. Rose grinned. "I'll tear my hair out long before we ever get to Hogwarts." I continued tersely, and at this, Mr. Weasley chuckled. Even Mrs. Weasley cracked a smile, and I glared resentfully at them. My serious disdain for Albus and Fred had become something of a family joke, once the adults had joined us in Diagon Alley and realized how much I hated Albus, and how little he cared.

"Unless you're going to be super cool and sit with the first years—" Rose said sarcastically and gestured to Cory, who frowned at this idea, "You're going to have to sit with Fred and Al." I groaned, looking away. I didn't have that many friends and I really, really hated having that pointed out to me, but that was exactly what was going on here. I wasn't a social person, and usually I got by with Rose as my best friend and then kind of tolerating the boys when I had to. Unfortunately, the when-I-had-to thing had never lasted the eight hours it took to get to Hogwarts. So, I was a little out of practice.

"Okay, then I guess I'll go find them and grab a compartment with them—" I said slowly, unhappy with how this was working out. I pouted for a second. "I need more friends." I muttered.

"Agreed." Rose said unhelpfully, and I scowled at her and flicked her arm, then put a hand on Cory's back, leading him away from the Weasleys.

We pushed through the crowds of people, and I said hi to a couple of people before Cory and I got to the train doors. Suddenly, I bumped into someone, and I glanced up, blushing as I realized I'd bumped into Rory Corner, a sixth year Gryffindor. Rory was handsome in a kind of generic way—with five feet eleven inches (an inch shorter than Al), searing blue eyes, and brown hair that was kind of casually messy. He wasn't exceptionally well-muscled, but he was fit. Normally Rory—despite his attractiveness—would not have been even a bleep on my radar. The reason I even cared about Rory Corner's existence at all was because his grades on the OWL were legendary: he'd applied for and received all twelve OWLs. He ended up only taking nine of the actual classes but he was an incredible student and probably going to be the Head Boy next year. Teachers were always using him as the example, and he was well-loved by every adult in the school.

"Rory, hey," I said, smiling at him.

"Molly Gale—just the girl I was looking for—" He said with an easy grin, as Cory tore away from me and darted up the train steps, then turned into the hallway. I glanced after him, then looked at Rory and raised my eyebrows: I was embarrassed, but I wasn't going to show it if someone held a gun to my head.

"I think I just got ditched by my eleven-year-old brother…" I said carefully. "I hope you're impressed."

"Just stunned." Rory said with a smile, and I hesitated, then cracked a half of a smile back. I'd give Rory the benefit of the doubt. Rory grinned after a beat, seemingly pleased with something, and then he continued. "So I hate to talk business when you are obviously too cool to do such a thing, but are you the Gryffindor fifth girl prefect?"

"Nope, that would be Rose Weasley." I said with a nod. Everyone was always looking for Rose. Did I sound jealous? I was, a little. But I was Rose's best friend. I'd gotten over most of my jealousy a long time ago. You couldn't be Rose's best friend without giving up that battle.

"Ew, really?" Rory said, and then he caught himself: I smirked, permitting myself a single chuckle while he scrambled to look properly apologetic. "I—didn't mean that the way it sounded."

"No, it's fine—I know she can be a bit of a pain to work with." I said, shrugging. "My Charms grade dropped to an A when she was my partner third year."

"She's just… easily distracted." Rory said with a rueful grin, hefting a backpack on his shoulder a little higher up. "And perhaps a little distracting." He admitted with a shrug. I nodded once, pressing my lips together so they formed a line. "So, Molly, how was your summer?"

"Fine." I said noncommittally. Or, really, lied noncommittally. My summer hadn't been fine. But I also wasn't about to volunteer that information. Rory was smart and cute and I wasn't about to scare him away with tales of the Gale family and the breakdown of our general family dynamic. "How was yours?"

"Pretty good until the end—my idiot of a little brother swiped my wand and cursed my room accidentally…" Rory chuckled embarrassedly to himself. "My walls sing now. My dad undid most of it but my closet's being pretty stubborn…" Rory shook his head.

I laughed a little at this, though I kept my guard up, and didn't say anything. "The weird part is, they sing in German—and you wouldn't think it, but it's kind of distracting." Rory continued as if this were a revelation, grinning still.

"I can barely believe it." I said, shrugging and smiling at him a little. "I know I can't work unless my walls are singing to me in German…" Rory laughed, sounding like a little kid, and the sound made me laugh a little myself: his laugh was infectious like that. "Your brother sounds like mine—how old is your brother?"

"Eight." Rory said with a grin. "As of today. Kid won't let me forget it—he's bouncing around here somewhere." Rory gestured to the Platform. "D'you have just the one brother or other siblings?" He asked curiously.

"I'm actually one of five, but that sounds most like the seven-year-old twins, one boy, one girl—definitely something they would do." I admitted. "And they bounce all the time. Not just on their birthday."

"They'd be the same year at Hogwarts as Logan." Rory pointed out.

"Actually, I'm muggle born, and so far only two of five are magical so jury's still out on that." I said carefully, pushing my hair out of my face as I tried to think of something else to talk about. I loved my family but I didn't know Rory that well, and I didn't want to talk about them to him.

"You're muggleborn?" Rory demanded, raising his eyebrows. I ducked my head in a nod. "Weird, I guess I assumed you and Rose knew each other when you came to Hogwarts—" He said, and I nodded again—a lot of people thought that. For all that I didn't make friends easily, Rose weren't you two best friends even at the beginning of first year?"

"When you're the only two Gryffindor girls your year, and there are five Slytherin girls, it becomes pretty necessary to be close friends." I admitted.

"Your year has all that conflict with the Slytherin kids—I guess with Rose and Albus, that becomes pretty fact-of-life, huh?" Rory asked, and I nodded, rolling my eyes. Our conflict with the Slytherins was pretty bad—the worst since Harry Potter's year, according to the teachers, who handed out detentions like it was nothing. The year above had had a few issues their first and second years, but we had full-on-wars with the kids: it had gotten so bad once that every Slytherin and Gryffindor kid our year had gotten detention after on incident.

"You have no idea." I informed him.

"Excuse me, James is my year, and Sera and one Slytherin boy are always having problems—you can imagine." Rory said, grinning still, and I laughed softly. There was a beat of silence before Rory rubbed the back of his neck. "If I didn't have to sit in the prefect car, I would ask you to be in my compartment—as is, I'll just catch you for a Chocolate Frog at some point, alright?" Rory asked, and I smiled at him, tucking a few strands of hair behind my ear.

"Sounds great." I told Rory. He nodded.

"I have to go find Rose, make sure she actually makes it to the prefect car, but I'll see you later, okay?" Rory said, and I nodded. He walked past me, and I twisted to glance at his retreating back, still smiling a little.

And that smile would have stayed put had the following not happened: Albus Potter decided to show up.

He came up behind me, and I glanced up and back at him as he paused at my side. "Was that Rory Corner?" Al asked, a sort of pained expression on his face, and I nodded, the smile still on my lips as I pushed some of my hair out of my face. "What'd he want?"

"None of your business." I said after a beat, realizing I was being sappy and suddenly embarrassed by that. I didn't actually like Rory—I knew myself well enough to recognize that. But I thought it was nice he was interested, at the very least.

"Mm-hmm," Al said skeptically, and I narrowed my gaze at him; he grinned at the familiar reaction, slinging an unapologetic arm around my shoulders. "So I guess you're sitting in my compartment on the train." He said, grinning.

"Ugh, don't remind me." I muttered exasperatedly as I tried to remove his arm from my shoulders: he kept a firm grip, though he wasn't hurting me, so I let my arms drop. "That right there is insentive enough for me to become an actual social creature, try making friends." I shuddered at this idea, mostly as a joke. A little truth was in the sentence, though: I was about as social as I was required to be to be friends with Rose. "Compartment with you for eight hours—I'm going to kill myself."

"Your words hurt me so, my dear—" Albus said somberly, and I began to pull away from him: his arm dropped to around my waist when it fell from my shoulders, and almost naturally, his hand fit to my hip and he pulled his arm in, turning me so I was pulled against him. I put my hands on his chest, but didn't push away quite yet, too surprised to move. His own expression flickered to surprise before he carefully hid his own emotion as well, his gaze piercing mine. I felt dazed, caught off guard—things I was patently not comfortable with. I liked being in control. And here Albus was, pulling me against him without even asking. And worse than that, my instinct, the very first thing I thought to do, was not to push him away.

And then he grinned at me, and I resisted the urge to smack him.

"Albus Severus Potter, you have the self-control of a four-year-old." I murmured to him, not moving. "And you should be glad I have more than you do, or else this little stunt right here—it would be the last thing you'd ever do." I raised my eyebrows in a challenge, but Al's grin had softened to something like a smirk but less snarky. I swallowed, then shoved his chest, pushing myself away from him and looking down, wrapping my arms around my stomach. I felt jittery somehow, and in the edge of my vision, I saw Albus run a hand over his always-messy hair, trying to press it down while he avoided looking at me.

"Miss Molly," Fred sang as he came up. I glanced at Al instinctively, seeing he was glancing at me—had Fred seen whatever that little thing just was? I doubted it when Fred looped an arm around my shoulders, and I glared up at him violently: I was still recovering from what had just happened.

"You have five seconds to remove your arm from my shoulders before I hurt you." I hissed.

"Ah, how pleasant our Molly is today." Fred said grandly, and I rolled my eyes.

"My threat still stands." I told him firmly.

"Cheerful as a ladybug." Fred said charmingly.

"And you're as useless as one—remove your arm from my shoulders, or I'll remove your arm from your shoulder." I retorted, shooting him a withering glare. He let me go.

"You drive a hard bargain." He said appreciatively, then looked up at Albus. I followed Fred's gaze: Albus's gaze hadn't left me, his green eyes firmly on my face, and when my gaze met his, he raised his eyebrows. I refused to move my gaze—I would not be the first one to look away—and after a second, Al just looked at Fred, rubbing the back of his neck. "So are we going to be getting a compartment, dear friends?" Fred said after a second, evidently realizing that he'd missed something and that Albus wanted him to move this along. "Because it would be such a shame if we missed the train, and had to take a page out of Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron's book…"

"What?" I demanded.

"My dad flew a car to Hogwarts his second year, when he missed the train." Albus explained with a weak smile, and I nodded once, before Fred took off up the train stairs, barreling past me. I scowled.

"Shot a window seat." Fred called behind him, and Albus cursed, taking off after him. I blinked, then rolled my eyes. Cormac acted more mature than them. So exactly what was I doing sitting with them on the Hogwarts Express? Not sitting alone and avoiding general pathetic-ness.

Aim for the new school year: make new friends, so the next time Rosie ditched, I didn't have to sit with these idiots.

I followed them on, though, because it wasn't like I had anywhere else to sit or anyone else I liked enough to sit with. Fred and Al had turned left when they'd gotten up the stairs, so I followed along, spotting Al skidding into the fourth compartment down. I shook my head, brushing past the other kids in the hallway and following them into the compartment, though I stopped in the doorway to survey the scene in front of me.

Fred and Al had gone into a compartment with other kids in it—strictly speaking, Al's other friends. There were five boys in our year at Gryffindor—Al, Fred, and then Mikhail Palahntuk, Gavin Morton and Liam Fitzroy. Gavin and Liam were tolerable enough boys, though Liam and Rose had had a messy break up over the summer before she'd started dating Greg Landau, so it was a little awkward between them. And Mikhail—Mikey—was my exboyfriend, a quiet, kind boy who I'd dated last year for a heartbeat before he'd dumped me in a sweet, albeit confusing way: I was under the impression he had a crush on Rose and only figured it out after we'd started dating. A little of a jackassy thing to do but he hadn't meant any harm, so I didn't hold it against him, though I didn't talk to him a lot anyway.

Silently, I crossed to the only empty seat left, folding my legs under me as I sank down, and Fred, who was sitting next to me, slung an arm around my shoulders. I glared at him. "Seriously? DIdn't we go over the no-arms-around-shoulders thing just one minute ago?" I demanded angrily.

"Molly dearest has to sit with us this year because my darling cousin is a prefect—"

"Rose is a prefect?" Liam demanded, choking on the words, and I smirked a little, nodding. "No—c'mon, are you kidding me—" He lifted his robes, which he was already in, showing me the shiny badge pinned to one pocket. "I've been praying all summer that you were the prefect—"

"I appreciate the thought, but no dice." I said, shrugging a little.

"I can't be a stupid prefect with Rose of all people—"

"Eh, play nice." Al ordered, chucking a pen at Liam. Liam grabbed the pen out of the air and chucked it back at Albus.

"She's my ex, what'd you expect me to think of her?" Liam demanded, sounding outraged—Liam had a bit of a short temper, which kept him from being best friends with Al and Fred. I could list Al and Fred's unattractive traits in my sleep, but they weren't short-tempered. In fact, I wasn't sure I'd ever seen Al act genuinely angry—fleetingly mad, sure, but never irate. I'd kind of figured it was because his older brother—James Potter—was about as short-tempered as a three-headed dog. It was the same with Ellie and me; even as a seven-year-old, she was more emotional and extroverted than I'd ever been. "She treated me like shit—"

"Liam, shut up about Rose." I ordered, raising an eyebrow at Liam, and he glanced at me, and he held my gaze seriously, challenging me. I narrowed my eyes after a minute, and Liam looked away: I smirked. I could tolerate Liam. But he was being kind of a jerk today. And we weren't friends enough for me to put up with that. He sighed explosively, falling back in the seat angrily. "Aren't you supposed to be in the prefect car?" I asked, and Liam nodded sulkily. "Then perhaps you'd better go find your car, hmm?"

"I'm not surprised you don't understand what it's like to have a messy breakup." Liam said carefully, glaring at me. "As I recall, you've had exactly one boyfriend who dumped you in a heartbeat as soon as he figure out how emotionless you are—"

"Hey," Mikey said quietly. "That's uncalled for."

"Of course you're defending her—"

"Fuck off, Liam." Al muttered. Liam glanced disbelievingly at Al, and then pushed himself to his feet, pushing out of the compartment. I swallowed, and avoided the gazes of Mikey and Al. "Molls, you alright?" Al asked me softly. Why couldn't he get it through his head—my name wasn't Molls. And he didn't have to treat me like a two year old.

"I'm fine." I said quietly, glancing up at him a flashing gaze, and he sighed shortly, glancing at the door.

"Liam's an idiot." Mikey said softly. "You know that. And what he said wasn't true." I fell silent, just switching my gaze to my lap before looking back up at the boys.

"Can we switch subjects?" I asked after a second, my voice hard. But I felt like a toddler. I hated this—I hadn't had a chance to argue with Liam, hadn't had a chance to win the argument. And if I was being completely honest with myself—he was right, at least a little: I had had exactly one boyfriend; he had dumped me in a heartbeat; even now, with Al and Mikey trying to be nice, all I could do was push them away. I knew I was "hard to get to know"—the way that Rose had described me to Al in Madame Malkin's. I did distance myself from people intentionally, because I didn't like them or trust them.

But I had it that way for a reason.

I could rely on the people I kept around. Rose had passed every test, every roadblock I'd put around me—sometimes, just barely scraping by. She wasn't perfect. But she was loyal and brave and would stand up for me even if she knew she wouldn't get any credit for it. She was on the list of people I trusted—a list that was, in case you couldn't tell, really short. Just two people: my brother Nate and Rose. I'd literally known Nate for as long as I could remember—my first memory was his birth. If I didn't trust him then I'd be screwier than anything. Then Rose. That was it: two people, end of story. I didn't need anyone else. Especially not Albus Severus Potter. Even if he was trying his hardest, he didn't stand a chance. I kept too many secrets, played my cards too close to the vest, and I could be too mean. No one could get close to me.

Not even someone as insistent as Al.

"I win!" Albus said triumphantly, slamming down his hand of cards, and I squeaked unintentionally as the cards exploded into a flurry of sparks, and Al laughed, glancing at me, and I grinned back despite myself, feeling my cheeks flush a little. My eyes met his, and I felt my gaze almost glued there, before the cards exploded for real this time, and I snapped my eyes shut, leaning to my left a little, and Al slipped an arm around my shoulders, and for the briefest of moments, my head rested on his chest, before I realized. Everyone burst out laughing, a couple of people coughing a little because of the smoke, and I opened my eyes, and felt a wave of relief as I realized Al wasn't looking at me anymore.

"You cheated!" Fred cried accusatorily at Al. "No way you beat me—"

"You're crap at exploding snap." Albus snapped at him, and I felt his eyes bore into my face, but I refused to meet his gaze.

"I am not—" Fred continued, but neither Albus nor I were paying attention.

"I hate to interrupt this scintillating conversation," A voice said from the entrance of the compartment, and everyone turned to look at Rory Corner, who was standing in the doorway, grinning and looking perfectly at ease. I exhaled shortly. "I've just come to take Molly for a moment if no one minds…" Rory said, and I raised my eyebrows.

"Come to take me for a moment?" I echoed. He flashed me a grin.

"I promised you a chocolate frog, remember?" He asked, and I blinked, then, remembering, I nodded. I dropped my own exploding snap cards on the table, and got up, crossing to him and smiling a little. I glanced back at Al, only to notice he was frowning at me. I straightened up, my gaze narrowing at Al.

Rory and I walked into the hallway, and Rory shut the compartment door behind me, flashing me a grin, and I smiled back. Rory had one of those grins meant to dazzle—pearly white teeth, all straight and in a row, his tanned skin and bright eyes making it more dazzling. "You're having a good ride, I take it?" Rory asked, still grinning. I shrugged a little. Rory began to lead the way down the hallway.

"It's going fine, but…Albus Potter and Fred Weasley and I aren't particularly friendly, so it's a little odd that I'm sitting alone with them." I admitted honestly as I followed Rory down the hallway.

"Rose mentioned something along those lines." Rory said, nodding a little. He glanced down at me, his gaze sombering, and I glanced up at him warily. "She also said something else—about Al and you…?" He said slowly. I raised my eyebrows. Surely Rory wasn't saying that Rose had implied that Albus and I were together? I was going to kill her dead—what the hell had she been thinking? I could barely tolerate Albus.

"Al and I are barely friends." I said, shaking my head once, but even as the words left my mouth, they felt odd, like I was lying. But I wasn't: I didn't know Al. He was no where on my radar because I didn't want him there. "Rose is just being odd—Merlin only knows what she meant. I'm not friends with Al, and I'm certainly not dating him."

"Good." Rory said after a second, then he flushed, "I mean—not—you should, y'know, if you want to—but—" He paused. "I'm going to just shut up now, if that's okay." He mumbled, hanging his head, and I laughed quietly, looking up at him.

"I get what you mean." I said softly, cutting him some slack. I wasn't sure whether or not I liked Rory, at this point, but he was a sweet enough guy who looked good on paper, at least. And ten times less annoying then Al. "So you're tolerating Rose and Liam, hmm?" I asked, switching subjects for him.

"Legitimately, two more annoying prefects can't have been chosen." Rory said angrily. "Rose is just—her, you know—"

"You have a stunning grasp of the English language." I murmured.

"But Liam Fitzroy—if the kid wasn't dressed in red and gold I wouldn't believe he was Gryffindor—he just sits there and whines the entire time, first about how Al Potter apparently was being a jackass and then some crap about you." Rory muttered. I smirked felt my eyes narrow instinctively: I was going to tear Liam a new one if he was actually gossiping about me. "I'd punch him if I didn't think I'd get my badge taken away." I smirked, ducking my head: everyone who'd met Liam had pretty much the same opinion of him. He was just a hothead and got angry far too fast, but if he was calm for long enough, you could usually hold up a civil conversation with the kid.

"So you're pretty into the whole prefect thing?" I asked Rory, a little surprised at his words. I didn't know any prefects that would defend their badge—most prefects either pretended to be or actually were extremely embarrassed by it. He nodded, looking sheepish.

"My brother was pretty much an idiot his entire time at school." Rory said. "So I don't want to be him. And my dad really wanted into the idea of one of us being a prefect, it just sort of stuck on me, I guess." He glanced back at me as we slipped onto a new car, and we saw the old woman with the sweets cart. "How much for the chocolate frogs?" He asked her, smiling politely.

"Two knuts a piece, dear," Rory passed four knuts to the woman and grabbed two, and I glanced up at him.

"You didn't have to pay for me." I said carefully, pushing some of my hair out of my face.

"I wanted to." Rory said easily, and I raised my eyebrows. I didn't like people paying for me—I was psychotically independent like that. It wasn't even that I was super feminist and wanted to pay for myself because boys paying for myself demonstrated my inferiority or something ridiculous like that—I just didn't like to owe other people.

Rory pressed the chocolate frog into my hands and I opened the packet, tearing the metallic plastic and pulling out the card first: I didn't like chocolate frogs. I liked chocolate, but I couldn't stand to eat things that moved independently, one of the last vestiges of my muggle childhood left in my behavior. I glanced down at the card, than felt my face twitch into a smile almost accidentally: The Potter Family. Harry and Ginny Potter and their three children beamed out at me, waving happily while Al grinned his stupid grin, his green eyes brighter than anyone else's in the photograph. I shook my head, smiling bitterly: I couldn't get away from the kid.

"I hate getting the evil ones." Rory said, rolling his eyes and holding up his card: Peter Pettigrew was standing nervously in the picture, looking out at me worriedly. "I especially hate this one—it's awful what he did to James's grandparents." I ducked my head in agreement, still studying my own card. "Which one did you get?" Rory asked, and I sighed, holding up my own card.

"The Potter family." I said with a smile. "I swear, I can't get away from the kid—I had to spend the last two weeks with him and now… we're at school." I shrugged. Rory raised his eyebrows a little, his smile dimming.

"You spend a lot of time together?" Rory asked, his voice sounding odd. I shrugged again, uncomfortable with where this was going. "I thought you weren't friends—"

"Corner, if I didn't know that we weren't dating so you had no right," I began carefully, "I'd say you sound jealous." I finished, raising an eyebrow in a challenge. Rory did sound jealous—despite the fact that I wasn't anything to him. Rory smiled uncomfortably.

"Rose told me you were blunt." Rory murmured after a moment, rubbing the back of his neck, and I narrowed my eyes at him. "I didn't imagine it'd be quite this blunt."

"You were actually scoping me out with my best friend." I murmured, tilting my head to the side: Rory's behavior was throwing me off my game. "An awful lot of trouble to go to for a girl you barely know."

"I'm hoping to get to know you better." Rory said with an easy smile.

"Everyone's been hoping that recently…" I said, and then rolled my shoulders. "Why doesn't anyone ever ask whether I want to get to know them?" I kept my voice quiet as two third years passed us: I didn't want the whole school talking about me. "My opinion counts for something, you know."

"Well?" Rory asked, stepping closer to me. I held my stance though this made me nervous—I had been standing too close to too many boys recently. Or, well, just to Rory and Al. But considering that I'd had exactly one boy ever be interested in me romantically, it wasn't like I walked around doing this all the time. Just the last few hours. "Would you like to get to know me better?"

"See, if I told you that, all the mystery of me would be gone." I said, the words coming to me almost magically (hardy-har, like magic, I was magical, so funny) but it sounded good, enough like I wanted to keep him at a distance but not just shove him away. As if to reinforce that point, I stepped closer, so we were standing chest-to-chest. I was acting like Rose would act—sort of sluttily. And I was not proud of it—but, in all honesty, I didn't have that many female role models. I was winging this whole "flirting" thing. And the only lessons I'd ever gotten were from my less-than-modest best friend. Besides, Rory was acceptable boyfriend material—and maybe just the suggestion of another guy in my life would make Albus lose interest, or at least consider it. "I would just be… regular. And what would be the fun in that?" I reached in my pocket and pulled out two knuts, the cost of my chocolate frog, and tucked them in the pocket of his robes, a smirk gracing my lips. "Hold onto those." I murmured. "I pay for myself." I tapped his chest lightly with my hand and then turned around, walking back towards the compartment I'd been in with Al and Fred and company. I slipped into the next train car, before realizing I still had my chocolate frog card in my hand. I looked down at it: everyone but Al had left the photo, but he was frowning up at me, looking sort of disappointed. I felt a surge of guilt somewhere in my stomach but I ignored it, and frowned back down at the photo before sighing shortly, and tucking it into my pocket.

I really was stuck with this kid.