Disclaimer: You know the drill . . .

Chapter -:Ten:-

Liquid Luck

I woke up to a dark shape hovering over me.

Normal person reaction: Scream.

Bird-kid reaction: Punch said dark shape right in the nose.

"Ow!" a familiar voice howled, stumbling backwards. I flipped on the lights, almost tripping over the bedsheets tangled around my ankles in my haste.

"Oh, crap!" I shouted. "I'm sorry."

"A simple good morning would have sufficed," Fang muttered, still clutching his nose. There was a sickening crunch as he cracked it back into place. He winced slightly, swiping at the trickles of blood that were trailing towards his chin.

"Well now you know never to do that again," I replied, trying to stifle a laugh . . . and failing miserably.

"You were supposed to be up a half-hour ago, you know," he said, instead of the response I knew he was dying to spit out. Way to take the high road! "Everyone else has left for breakfast. I volunteered to stay behind and wake up Sleeping Beauty. Instead, I get decked in the nose."

"Dang!" I shouted, scuttling around my tiny room in a rush. "How much longer 'till breakfast ends?"

"Uh . . . about fifteen minutes."

"And you didn't think to get me sooner!" I exclaimed, grabbing a shirt and the stupid skirt I was forced to wear as a part of my uniform. I roughly shoved Fang out of the room, slamming the door in his face, already halfway out of my top.

When I finished dressing I abandoned all hope of brushing through my hair, settling on pulling it up into a messy ponytail. I snatched my wand from my bedside table, and flung the door open to find Fang leaning casually against the opposite wall, smirking profusely.

"What?" I asked crossly, trying to push past him.

"Max, relax." He grabbed my arm, pulling me to a stop. I struggled against his grip for a moment, before turning my glare on him.

"If I miss breakfast, so help me Go-" I began heatedly.

In reply he flashed his watch at me, the numbers there blaring that breakfast hadn't even begun yet.

"But you said-"

"I lied." He smirked.

I opened my mouth to tell him off when he advanced towards me, coming dangerously close. I took a step back, flush against the wall. He kept coming forward, his eyes narrowed like he was stalking prey.

"Uh . . . " I laughed nervously.

"What?" he whispered in my ear, his chest pressed against mine.

I tried to form a coherent response, but my mind was spazzing out, shorting out in places. My breathing was haggard, and I was losing all control of common sense. See what he did to me!

"We should go meet the others," I murmured, but even so I found my hands pulling his head closer, a vise around his neck.

"The others can wait," he mumbled as his lips brushed mine.

He pulled back slightly, making me pout. He chuckled at my expression, and I realized he was just teasing me. Oh no, I wasn't having any of that. I hooked a finger around his collar, yanking his head towards mine. His hands were on either side of my head, flat against the wall. I was trapped, that was true . . . but I didn't really want to go anywhere either.

Kissing Fang was like drinking sunlight. It filled you up from head to toe with a tingly warmth that was impossible to find elsewhere. It was exhilarating, and addictive. Something I would never get tired of.

"Max! Fang! Hurry up, we're about to lea-" Nudge thundered, rounding the corner. When she caught sight of our . . . position, she turned a scary shade of red. With a few mumbled words she whirled around and practically sprinted away.

Fang and I just stared at each other, his forehead pressed against mine. We laughed quietly, my hands still tangled in his hair and his flat against the small of my back.

"Stop sucking face!" Iggy yelled from the kitchen.

I rolled my eyes, sliding out of Fang's embrace. He sighed, following me down the hall.

"Ready to leave?" I asked airily, ruffling Iggy's hair as I passed like I used to when he was ten. He glared at me resentfully, smoothing it back into place.

"Sure thing!" Nudge said brightly, as if she had erased the incident from her memory. "We were just waiting for you two." Did I detect a hint of smugness in her tone?

Once everyone was assembled we trekked off for the castle, entering the Great Hall a few minutes after breakfast began. The room was in a clatter, but it still wasn't the same. Everywhere you looked people were glancing around warily, whispering to the people beside them. Voldemort had an effect no matter what the setting.

I found Harry seated with Ron and Hermione as usual. He had saved some room for us, and after saying bye to Fang, we walked over. There wasn't much talking done. Us bird-kids were too busy stuffing our faces for chatting.

"You ought to be holding try outs soon," Ron commented to Harry, which immediately caught my attention.

"That's right," I said. "You're the big bad captain this year. You have all the authority now."

"Yeah," he replied grimly, before resuming his previous activity, which was picking at his food half-heartedly.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing . . . It's just, Wood left a lot of responsibility to me. There are a lot of positions that need filled. I have to find a new Keeper, a few Chasers though I'm sure Katie will make the team fine, and two new Beaters. More than half the old team graduated last year," he grumbled.

"I'm sure everything will be fine," I insisted.

"Maybe . . . are you going to try out?" he inquired, giving me a hopeful look.

"Who me?"

He nodded.

"Oh, no. I quite liked being the Seeker. It just wouldn't be the same. I was thinking maybe I could be an announcer or something," I mumbled.

"Come on Max! You'd be an amazing Chaser! An even better Seeker, I do admit, but we could use you and your wings. Chasers need to be fast too, you know. You'll be able to dodge the Bludgers easily. You'll be the best Chaser ever, along with an amazing Seeker," Harry cried.

I-" I said, about to adamantly refuse, when I saw the earnest in which just about everyone at our portion of the table was looking at me with. "I . . . I'll think about it."

"You're a lifesaver, Max!" Harry cheered, clapping me on the back with a broad grin. I shrugged and resumed eating, chewing thoughtfully. I guess being a Chaser wouldn't be so bad . . .

- }{ -

I stumbled into Potions with seconds to spare. Professor Slughorn was standing at the head of the room, his back turned to me. I slipped inside quietly, sliding into my seat beside Iggy. I felt Fang's eyes burning a hole into the back of my head, and I quickly glanced over my shoulders, hoping he'd see the reassurance in my eyes. Potions, the only class we had together. I opened my mind a tiny crack, just enough for him to hear the 'later!' I was mentally shouting at him. He nodded and turned away.

"Where have you been?" Iggy hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

"Sorry . . . I got distracted," I admitted.

He nodded knowingly. "Making out with Fang in a broom closet again?"

I punched him in the shoulder, making him wince. "No!"

"What then?" he asked.

"I'll tell you later," I replied mischieviously.

He sighed, giving me a look before turning his attention back to Slughorn, who by this point had finished whatever he had been busy with, and was now staring intently around the room.

"Ah, Maximum," he said in delight. "I see you've decided to join us."

I blushed slightly, looking down at my desk.

"No matter. We all get a little caught up now and again," he brushed it off easily.

He started class then, rambling about God knows what. I tuned out, not really caring. I'd just borrow some of Hermione's notes. Not that I wanted to ask her for help . . . Oh, crap. I'm screwed. Who was going to help me with my schoolwork now! I decided it might be vital to actually listen then, and was just in time to hear some kid who looked vaguely familiar say: "Sir, you haven't told us what's in this one."

He pointed at one of the cauldrons sitting on Slughorn's desk. It was bubbling slightly, the contents splashing around inside. It was an eye-catching gold, and no matter how much it jumped around, none of it spilled.

"Oho. Yes. That. Well, that one, ladies and gentlemen, is a most curious little potion. Can anyone tell me what it is?" he questioned, turning his smile on Hermione, which wasn't much of a surprise.

She was glancing at it curiously though, and she didn't raise her hand. I'm pretty sure the shock emanating from the classroom was felt all the way around the world. Miss Hermione Granger, known teenage genius and know-it-all by birthright, didn't know the answer. What a scandal!

I turned my gaze back on the potion, my eyes narrowing. It looked familiar. I thought back to the day we first got our supplies for school. We had had to go and pick them up from the library, and out of sheer boredom I had wandered up and down the aisles, pulling books out aimlessly all the way. One in particular had caught my attention. I book of interesting potions.

This particular concoction sitting on the desk looked vaguely like something I had seen. Cautiously I raised my hand, glancing around to gauge people's reactions the entire time. Most seemed mildly surprised. I hardly ever participated in class.

"Yes, Maximum?" Slughorn asked, looking slightly disgruntled from Hermione's sudden lack of knowledge. He did seem happy that I was taking a chance, though.

"It's Felix Felicis. Quite literally, liquid luck," I explained, watching as everyone's eyes widened in shock. Murmurs spread through the room, and the excitement was palpable.

"You're quite right indeed!" Slughorn exclaimed, going on to speak about it some more. "And that is what I shall be offering as prize in this lesson."

The stakes had just been raised extremely high.

"One tiny bottle of Felix Felicis. Enough for twelve hours' luck. From dawn 'till dusk, you will be lucky in everything you attempt. Now I must give you warning that Felix Felicis is a banned substance in organized competitions . . . sporting events, for instance, examinations, or elections. So the winner is to use it on an ordinary day only . . . and watch how that ordinary day becomes extraordinary!

"So," said Slughorn, suddenly brisk, "how are you to win my fabulous prize? Well, by turning to page ten of Advanced Potion-Making. We have a little over an hour left to us, which should be time for you to make a decent attempt at the Draught of Living Death. I know it is more complex than anything you have attempted before, and I do not expect a perfect potion from anybody. The person who does best, however, will win little Felix here. Off you go!"

I got to work immediately, as did everyone else, although I probably had a lot less hope than the norm. I sucked badly at Potions. It was my worst subject. I didn't have the patience for sitting there, slaving over a hot cauldron for hours on end. It wasn't my style. I would much rather be up and out, slashing spells at Death Eaters or something. Not chopping up ingredients and measuring perfect amounts while making sure I stirred in the right direction, at the correct speed.

I wasn't expecting Harry to win either, though.

Authors Note: Review?