It was one of the few times of the year that the Hogwarts castle was as quiet and serene as the land it stood on. The grounds were covered with snow, unblemished but for a few paw prints here and there. The castle itself was blanketed with a sheet of the white powder while large icicles hung precariously from windowsills. It was a picturesque sight.
The moment of peaceful serenity was shattered when a group of Gryffindors – their faces rubbed raw and their robes damp – stumbled their way through the entranceway. Laughter filled the halls, causing the Christmas decorations strewn along the walls to twinkle in merriment.
"You cheated!" Ron was saying indignantly, a sour scowl upon his face. George laughed while Fred rolled his eyes impatiently.
"Excuses excuses," George tutted, waggling a finger at his younger brother. "You're just being a sore loser. Like usual."
"We made it clear from the beginning that it would a strictly no-magic zone," Ron argued, ignoring George. "Yet you two still decided to enchant your snowballs!"
"A no-magic zone is a no-fun zone," whined Fred.
"So you're not denying you cheated then?" Harry challenged, raising a brow.
The twins glanced at each other and shrugged unabashedly. "I wouldn't say we cheated per say..." Fred grinned. "More like improvised."
Ron pointed a finger accusingly at them. "I demand a rematch!"
Harry shook his head and laughed. Fred and George were, of course, up for the challenge, but the Boy Who Lived was ready to shrug off his damp robes and jump into a hot bath. "Maybe another time," he said appeasingly. "Doesn't seem like the snow is going away anytime soon."
The Weasleys grudgingly agreed and the four boys resumed their trek to the Common Room. Hermione was right where they'd left her, curled up by the fire reading Ghadding with Ghouls. She looked up as the portrait swung shut behind them.
Ron crinkled his nose. "Don't know why you're still reading that dreadful book." He grimaced at Lockhart's picture, which grinned winningly at him from the back of Hermione's book.
"We start this the first week of second term!" Hermione huffed defensively. "I'm reading ahead now while we have the time."
"I know, I know," sighed Ron, kicking off his soaked boots. "I just don't understand how you haven't fallen asleep outta boredom by now."
"The pictures inside probably keep her on her toes," snickered Fred, referencing to the pictures Lockhart included in all his books, randomly interspersed throughout (no doubt to keep the reader engaged). He nudged Ron in the side. Hermione's face flushed pink while Ron's scrunched into a scowl.
"That's not true!" She stood up, slamming the book shut. Lockhart was jolted out of his frame. "There's more to this story – and Professor Lockhart – than you think!" With an angry huff, she whipped around her bushy mane and marched up the stairs towards the girls' dorms.
"No need to get all riled up," grumbled Ron, trudging towards the boys' dorm.
"And here I thought Hermione valued intellect more than looks," sighed Fred dramatically, shaking his head in disappointment. "But at the end of the day, she's just a girl, lovesick as the rest of them."
"Too bad you're not smart or handsome, Ron," snickered George, nudging his brother in the side. "You don't stand a chance."
Ron's face flushed out of either embarrassment or anger. Or both. "Don't stand a chance…?!" His voice notched up an octave. "Not like I'm trying to impress anybody to begin with!" He scowled and stomped off angrily, muttering underneath his breath all the while. A moment later there was the sound of a door slamming shut.
"Now who's the one getting riled up?" grumbled George, heading towards the boys' dorm too. Fred chortled and patted him on the shoulder. Harry rolled his eyes and followed after them. He veered off to the left to enter the Second Years' dorm room while the twins headed further down to reach their room. After taking their showers, the pair headed back into the Common Room for a game of Exploding Snap. They stopped short of themselves when they caught sight of the figure on the couch.
"Perce!" they cried out.
Percy, who had been staring into the fireplace blankly, turned his head towards them. His pained expression quickly morphed into one of annoyance, a look the twins were all to familiar with.
"I thought you were out on the grounds." His voice sounded accusatory, as if upset that the twins were back inside.
"We came back early to see you!" chirped Fred gaily, jumping down on the couch beside his brother. Percy grimaced.
"Barely seen you at all this past week," George continued, sitting on Percy's other side. He raised his eyebrows. "Keep patrolling the halls at this rate and you'll be the new Mrs. Norris."
"Dunno why you're spending so much time patrolling anyway," added Fred. "There's not many of us to watch."
"Since there are only three Prefects here over break," Percy sniffed importantly, "I have had to invest more time in my duties. It's called taking responsibility." He raised his brows meaningfully. "A foreign concept to you two, no doubt."
"Oi, we're plenty responsible!" George huffed indignantly. "Why, we're being responsible siblings right now by checking in on you!"
Percy snorted. "Checking in on me?"
George softened in concern. "We've barely seen you around this past week." He placed a hand gently on his brother's shoulder. "And we know there's more to it than your responsibilities as a Prefect."
Percy stiffened. He clenched his jaw defensively. "…What do you mean?"
Fred sighed and shook his head. "C'mon, Perce, don't do us like that. We're brothers." He smiled. "We know you."
Percy looked from one twin to the other before glancing away from both of them and staring into the fireplace instead. His glasses reflected the flickering flames.
"You've been keeping to yourself a lot recently. More so than usual." Fred paused and said slowly, "Ever since that night you and McDouglas patrolled."
Percy stiffened at the mention of the Ravenclaw.
"…Listen," sighed George after a stretch of silence. "We know this isn't the most comfortable conversation to have. Especially with us." He smiled knowingly at his twin, who chuckled and nodded. "But we're your brothers, Perce." He placed a hand on Percy's shoulder and squeezed gently. "You can tell us anything." He meant it, too. Although George and Fred gave Percy hell on a daily basis, it was all meant in good fun. They loved their brother and didn't like seeing him this way. It wasn't healthy for him to keep all his feelings bottled up. Besides, hearing their outside perspective might provide him with some sound advice. (Alright, that may have been a stretch, but they were at least willing to try.)
Percy shook his head. "You're friends with Wood," he reasoned. "I'm not putting you in that position."
It was a fair point, actually. It wasn't so much an issue of trust as it was loyalty. It would be unfair for the twins to choose sides between their Captain and their brother. They knew Percy was watching out for them (and himself), but they couldn't help but feel slighted.
"Fair enough." Fred smiled tightly and slapped Percy on the back. Though he tried to sound nonchalant, there was no hiding the hint of disappointment in his voice. "You always have to be looking out for us, don'tcha?" His tone was one of both endearment and exasperation.
Percy smirked. "That's my job," he replied, half-jokingly, half-snootily. "Not as a Prefect, but as your older brother." His eyes softened, and there was a rare and brief moment of understanding between the three redheads.
"Aw, we love you too," crooned George, alleviating the atmosphere as he playfully squeezed Percy's freckled cheek. Percy scowled and shoved him away.
"Enough of this." Percy waved off, acting as if they hadn't just had a moment of genuine bonding between them. Now that his moment of vulnerability was gone, they had all reverted back to their roles. "I haven't had free time like this in my hands for weeks. Who's up for a game of Exploding Snap?"
And so the three of them played their game of cards, laughing and playfully arguing with one another. The three Second Years eventually joined them, and the Gryffindor Common Room was soon filled with shrieks and smoke as the cards exploded randomly throughout the game. For the first time over break, Percy had stopped thinking about Cara and worrying about school and his Prefect duties. Nor was he reprimanding his brothers for defying school rules or pulling a prank. He was in fact touched by their concern for him, and even though he had denied them the opportunity of filling in the latest gossip, he felt closer to them than he had in a long time. And for once, he was having fun.
The city was overwhelming during the Christmas season. The streetlights were strewn with Christmas lights and holly and mistletoe while stilt walkers towered over homey Christmas market stalls and the locals blasted their pipes in the streets, prancing about in nothing but their kilts. Oliver chuckled to himself and shook his head as he passed by a drunk shamelessly trying to pick up a pair of pretty girls. Ah, yes, home sweet home. As beautiful and magical as it was hiding away from the world in the Highlands at Hogwarts, there was nothing quite like the madness of Glasgow. Oliver loved every second of it.
He noticed a large crowd gathered along an open space. Watching street performers, no doubt. Sidestepping a pair of American tourists (who, to Oliver's annoyance, were loudly complaining about haggis) he joined the edge of the crowd to take a peek at the performance. To his surprise – and great amusement – it wasn't a dancing or musical performance, but a "magic" performance. Magic by Muggle standards, of course. When he was young he'd nearly given away the secret about wizards while watching a Muggle magician perform, so outraged and insulted he'd been. (Luckily, his mum had shut him up before he'd had a chance to say anything detrimental.) He remembered how condescending he'd been, declaring that Muggle magic was nothing but deception; a trick of the eye. Being able to pull a rabbit out of a top hat certainly did not mean you held magical prowess. Over the years, though, he'd learned to appreciate Muggle magic. It was actually rather endearing and cute, how they tried to play wizard for a day. After all the centuries of witch hunting and wizard discrimination, here they were trying to have a taste of their world. All rather ironic, really.
"Now, does everybody remember how earlier in the show I burned away the card she chose?" the magician was saying, referring to his volunteer. The crowd mumbled their answer. "If you could, m'dear, reach into your pocket…"
The audience gasped and 'ooh'ed and 'aah'ed when the volunteer fished out a card from her pocket. She showed it to the audience upon the magician's request, and the audience erupted into applause. Apparently, it was the same card she had selected and the magician had burned away earlier in the show. Impressive, if that were the case. Despite all the shite Oliver gave the Muggle magicians, he did have to acknowledge their brilliance and finesse; he certainly wouldn't be able to do their tricks without his wand.
"Thank you, thank you!" The magician tipped his wool cap in humble acknowledgement. "And give our beauty from Belfast a special round of applause!" He gestured grandly to his volunteer, who turned towards the audience to smile and wave. When Oliver caught a glimpse of her face, he first couldn't believe who he saw. He blinked. Then rubbed his eyes. And pinched himself. But still standing in front of the audience – and now heading back into the crowd after receiving a cheeky kiss on the hand from the magician – was none other than Cara McDouglas.
Shaking himself from his initial shock, he shoved his way through the quickly dispersing crowd, heading in her direction. He stopped and frowned when he couldn't find her. Had that really been McDouglas? Or had it just been another strawberry blonde? But he'd been certain it was her! What kind of fake boyfriend was he if he couldn't even recognize his fake girlfriend?!
"…Wood?"
He turned around to see McDouglas staring back at him, looking just as shocked as he had no doubt looked only moments ago. Her eyes were wide as saucers and her mouth was slack. He grinned at her, amused by her dumbfounded expression. It was a rare sight to see McDouglas out of her element, and it pleased him to no end.
"McDouglas," he greeted casually, acting as if he'd run into her in the corridors of the Hogwarts castle rather than on the streets of Glasgow. "Fancy seeing you here."
"Fancy seeing…?!" She spluttered for a moment, to his immense amusement. "That's all you've got to say?"
He paused, pretending to be thoughtful. "Merry Christmas," he added, his grin becoming cheekier by the moment. Her frazzled composure finally gave way to exasperation. She rolled her eyes and laughed.
"And a Happy New Year," she replied. She laughed again and shook her head, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. "This is crazy, running into you here. What're the odds?"
Oliver shrugged. "You're the one who received an O in Arithmetic, not me." He grinned and stuck his hands in his pockets. "You do realize I'm from around here, right?"
"Of course," she replied, almost sounding insulted that he even had to ask. "That's why we chose Glasgow as the city where we 'fell in love' over the summer, remember?"
Oliver supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. McDouglas was ever the detailed one. They had spent a lot of time coming up with the story about how they had transitioned from foe to girlfriend-boyfriend in order to make it seem as realistic as possible.
"I'm touched you remember that about me, love," he teased. She rolled her eyes. "But it begs the question – what are you doing here?" He raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be back home?"
She raised an eyebrow in return and folded her arms across her chest. "So I remember all these little details about you – being a good girlfriend and all, of course" – Oliver rolled his eyes – "yet you can't remember any about me?" He frowned in confusion. "I have family here," she elaborated.
He paused. "Wait, so you really do have cousins that live here?" He'd assumed she'd fabricated that part of the story to make things more convenient for them.
"Uh-huh." She rolled back and forth on the balls of her feet. "And they really do attend St. Andrew's – hence our 'run-in' at the cathedral. Speaking of which…" She glanced at the clock tower behind her. "I need to leave soon to attend mass. My family's waiting for me."
It was only now that Oliver took a good look at what she was wearing. She wore a knee-length wool coat tied around her slim waist, hiding what he assumed to be a dress underneath, and black tights with long boots. He noticed, too, that her hair was not its usual straight but had been curled for the occasion. Briefly he wondered just what she looked like in her dress, then he wondered why such a thought had ever crossed his mind to begin with. He supposed he was simply curious what she looked like in formal attire. He'd only ever seen her in her school uniform and casual wear, after all.
The absurdity of her dressed so nicely yet cruising around the streets of Glasgow and volunteering in a street show made him laugh. She frowned at him confusion.
"What?" she huffed defensively. "Think mass is a joke?"
He quickly backtracked, never having meant to insult her religion. But before he could explain himself, a familiar voice interjected.
"Made a new friend have you, Ollie?"
It was just like his mother to try to get between him and a girl. Luckily, this girl was only McDouglas; he hadn't been trying to impress her. His mother came to a halt on his right, smiling curiously at McDouglas while shooting her son a furtive glance.
"Actually, Mum," he corrected, caught between amusement and exasperation, "we already know each other." She frowned in confusion. "This is one of my classmates from school. Mum, meet Mc – Cara." Her given name didn't roll off his tongue as easily as McDouglas did. "Cara, this is me mum."
His mother brightened. "A friend from school? Why didn't you say so!" She guffawed and slapped him on the back. He grunted. "Pleasure to meet you, dear!" She shook McDouglas's hand enthusiastically.
McDouglas, though appearing taken aback by his mum's animated nature, smiled politely and replied, "The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Wood."
"Oh, I see you're from Ireland!" she replied excitedly. Oliver sensed that she was in one of her blabbering moods and intended on chatting McDouglas's ear off. "Where abouts you from? And what brings you to Glasgow?"
"I'm from a small village on the outskirts of Belfast, and I'm here visiting family." She hesitated, glancing antsily back at the clock tower. "I don't mean to be rude, but I really must be going."
"Already? But we've only just met!" Mrs. Wood frowned sadly. "It's not often I get a chance to see Ollie's friends. Say," she said suddenly, like a bright idea had just appeared to her, "I'm not sure how long you'll be in town, but we're going to the Underground tomorrow. We'd love for you and your family to join us." Oliver held his tongue. The last thing he wanted was to spend a whole day with McDouglas. And to meet her family! Now this was starting to feel like they really were in a relationship! Though, he reasoned, it wasn't everyday he ran into a classmate in Glasgow. And he supposed it would be interesting to see how McDouglas acted outside the school environment.
McDouglas frowned in confusion. "The Underground?" The word sounded foreign on her tongue. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what that is."
This time Mrs. Wood frowned. "Really? The side of your family that lives here has never mentioned it? It's Glasgow's number one attraction!"
Oliver, however, immediately understood where the discrepancy was coming from. "Mum," he said sensitively, leaning in towards her, "McDouglas is Muggle-born."
Mrs. Wood's eyes sparked in understanding. "Oh, m'dear, now you must come with us! But," she added seriously, "only bring the family members who know about your…" She made a swishing motion of a wand with her hand. "It's only for those who are part of our world, y'see. They have very strict limitations on who is allowed to enter." Not allowing McDouglas an opportunity to reply, she went on, "We can meet you lot at Café Avanti near Partick station at nine in the morning. Then we can all head down together."
McDouglas seemed overwhelmed, clearly not expecting that Mrs. Wood would go ahead and make arrangements with the assumption that she would be there. Trying not to be rude or offend Mrs. Wood, she started unsurely, "Erm…as excited – and grateful – as I am at your invitation, Mrs. Wood, I–"
"Don't worry if you can't make it, darling," she interrupted cheerily, waving off her concern as if it were no more than gnat. "I'm sure you have a packed schedule during your stay here, but I highly recommend you take some time out of that busy schedule to take a field trip with us to the Underground. It'll be so much fun!" Her eyes glimmered with the excitement of a child.
McDouglas didn't seem to know what to make of Oliver's mother, and he didn't blame her. She could be a little…much.
Oliver cleared his throat. "And if you can't make it, no worries. I'll send you an owl, yeah?" He started to steer her away, knowing his mother would hold her hostage otherwise. "Go on now, before a bolt of lightning strikes you in punishment for missing mass!" He waggled a finger at her playful sternness.
She glared at him while his mother reprimanded him. "Hope a lightning bolt strikes you," she muttered, quietly enough so that only he heard. Then she smiled brightly at his mum. "Hopefully I'll get a chance to see you tomorrow, Mrs. Wood. If not, it was so nice meeting you!"
"The same to you," she replied warmly. "And even if you can't make it tomorrow, I hope we can have some tea before you leave."
McDouglas agreed and waved goodbye before finally taking her leave. Oliver sighed in exasperation and scowled at his mother.
"Sorry darling," she said, thinking he was upset at her for taking too much of McDouglas's time. "You know how I can get sometimes. Especially around the girls." Her eyes glimmered mischievously while a cat-like smirk danced across her lips. "She's pretty, that one."
Oliver twitched, knowing where this was headed. "Don't start, Mum."
"What?" She batted her eyelashes innocently and shrugged. "It was just an observation." She grinned. "An observation I'm sure you've made too."
"It's the personality that matters," Oliver said instead, neither denying nor confirming his mother's opinion. "And as for McDouglas's personality…" He trailed off. "Well, I guess you'll see for yourself tomorrow."
Another three month update. And it'll be probably be longer than that for my next update. Y'see, I'll be traveling to Western Europe right after I graduate in May (going first to Ireland and Scotland to see Cara and Oliver's homelands! SO EXCITED) and then when I get back in late June I need to start preparing to move out the house in July. Y'know, start my career and all that. *Sob* So all that personal information I just gave you basically means: I won't update until August at the earliest unless I write Chapter 10 this month (which very well may be a possibility - I will try my best).
As always, a big thank you to all of you who read, review, follow, and favorite my story. Until next time!
