AN: An extra long chapter to apologise for the delay in updating. Also, reviews would be really nice - and let me know if you spot the Doctor Who reference, and The Script reference. Enjoy!

For the second time that day, Larna had to explain everything she had seen and heard, this time to Professor Snape. Throughout her whole recounting of events, he stared at her intently, his face blank but his eyes boring holes into her.

As she came to the end of her monologue, Snape turned to Draco, still expressionless.

'Pray tell, Mr Malfoy, when did you begin to imitate the g... Weasley?'

His head lowered - whether in shame or thought, Larna was uncertain - the Slytherin muttered, 'From when Price started arguing with him - she was arguing with me.'

With strange, seemingly irrelevant interest, the Head of Slytherin asked, 'And how did you manage to keep Weasley out of the way, as well as ensuring your absence went unnoticed?'

The Ravenclaw thought that this line of questioning was not important, but, too intimidated, she said nothing.

'It was mainly luck. I just snuck into the office when Fred was running errands; it was easy for Milicent and I to sneak out of our Department. No one ever checks on Magical Games and Sports.'

For the first time since he had arrived, Snape said something constructive. 'Do you think this behaviour is acceptable, Mr Malfoy?'

'No, sir.'

'No, it is not. You will follow me while I decide on a suitable course of action.' Both Slytherins left, leaving Larna with Dumbledore and McGonagall - the latter of whom had said nothing since the Potions Master's arrival. The usual grave expression was once again portrayed on her face, and with a simple 'If we are done here?' (to which Dumbledore nodded) she left.

'Now, Miss Price, we have to decide where to go from here. You understand that it is too late for you to return to the Ministry as an apprentice?' The sixth-year nodded, looking forlorn, though she seemed set to accept the truth of the matter.

'Besides that, have you thought about contacting Mr Weasley?'

A tear escaped the girl's eye and she brushed it away, a steely determination washing over her. 'I was going to write to him, but... I just didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry, I was wrong"? "Forgive me"? No, I don't want to be superficial.'

'Ah. I thought we may come to this little snag. I understand your feelings. That's why I took the liberty to arrange, right about now...' There was a familiar twinkle in Dumbledore's eye, and Larna was uncertain what it meant. The headmaster nodded to the door of his office, from which could be heard a knocking at that precise moment. Rather than calling for the visitor to come in, he walked to the door and opened it, muttering a quick 'Hello' to the unknown person and exiting, leaving the intruder alone with the sixteen-year-old.

'Fred?'

'Larna.'

The girl was speechless. Incredulous of Dumbledore's antics, she had no idea whether to laugh or cry.

'How did you...'

'Dumbledore sent me a patronus. He didn't say what he wanted.'

'Oh.'

Avoiding anymore pointless conversation, Larna allowed silence to fall now the question had been asked. For the first time since his arrival a few seconds ago, she allowed her eyes to drink in Fred's appearance. He looked dishevelled, she noticed with sadness. There were bags under his eyes, and his hair was untamed, unlike its usual soft, silky texture. His clothes were creased and, in general, it seemed he hadn't been looking after himself properly.

The spell was broken, when, in a wobbly tone, Fred murmured, 'I've missed you.'

It took no more than those few words for the two people to rapidly close the little space between them, Fred enveloping Larna in his arms, while she tried to reciprocate. She breathed deeply, realising she had missed his scent almost as much as she had missed his face, and in that moment, she vowed never to let go of her soulmate again.

'I'm... sorry,' Larna muttered, as salty tears fell from her eyes onto Fred. She barely contained her sobs; her body shook with the effort of it.

Seeing the state of his former girlfriend brought tears to Fred's eyes too. 'Shh, it's okay,' he whispered into her hair, stroking it as he talked. 'I understand. And-' he let go and pulled apart from her slightly, looking into her eyes. With his fingers, he followed the lines on her tear-stained face, before saying, 'I forgive you', and once again taking hold of her fiercely in a possessive vice. The Ravenclaw melted into his grip, and thought that, for the first time in months, things were looking up.

When Dumbledore returned around forty-five minutes later, it was to find the pair perched on his desk, holding hands and whispering quietly.

'Ah. Not interrupting anything, am I?'

'No, Professor.' It was Larna who spoke. 'I think we're okay now.' Looking at Fred for reassurance – who nodded – she smiled at the headmaster, who subsequently returned the gesture.

'I simply came to inform you both of the action which will be taken against Mr Malfoy.' Dumbledore took a seat behind his desk and both young people turned to face him. 'The thing is', he began gravely, 'As much as I wish it wasn't the case, there is little, on the disciplinary front anyway, that we can do. Draco had been placed in detention every Saturday for the rest of the year. Also, 100 points have been taken from Slytherin. But in all honesty, that's about as far as we can go.'

Fred was incredulous, and in true Weasley style, his face was beetroot. 'What do you mean? Is that it? He used polyjuice, for Merlin's sake! How can-' Larna had become nervous. Tugging on the Gryffindor's hand, she began 'Fred, it's okay, it doesn't...' But he shook her off. 'It does matter! This should be taken further, to the Ministry. There are laws against underage magic, and against using potions. This can't be the end of it.'

Dumbledore sighed; he looked stressed, and Larna wondered for the first time if the pressure of running Hogwarts was finally getting too much for him.

'What you have to understand, Mr Weasley, is that Draco – or more accurately, his father – has connections within the Ministry. By all means, appeal for a disciplinary hearing. But I highly doubt it will get you anywhere, not with Lucius' influence. My advice to you would be to simply forget about all of this and move on.'

Fred nodded subtly, but his face did not change from its stubborn expression. 'Goodbye, Sir.' He turned and went for the door, bringing Larna, who still clasped his hand, with him. The sixth-year uttered a brief 'Goodbye, Professor,' before following Fred from the room. Once on the staircase, she asked, 'What are we going to do now?'

Fred simply smiled mischievously. 'Watch and learn.'