PART TWELVE
**
Evie
**
"Mrs. Weasley, the food is wonderful!" I said. It was true—I had never had a better plate of eggs and biscuits in my life. "But I need to get back to Hogwarts."
"Why?" George whined. "Don't go! You just came," he said softly, leaning his chin on his hand.
"My mother," I whispered. "I've got a bad feeling that she's going to write soon." Without another word from anyone, I got my things together and stood by the fireplace.
"At least come back once," George pleaded.
"I'll try." We shared one, chaste goodbye kiss and stepped into the fireplace with my bag and a handful of Floo powder. "Gryffindor common room!"
I stepped into the common room moments later. I wanted to find Tasha, but I felt I should be a good daughter and clean up my things first. After everything was cleaned out and my suitcase was stashed under my four-poster, I hurried toward the quidditch pitch, where I thought Tasha would be.
But instead of finding Tasha, I ran into my mother, on her way toward Gryffindor. And I was completely and utterly shocked. I didn't know what I did, but I thanked Merlin a thousand silent times for letting me not get caught.
"Mom!"
"Evie, honey," she smiled. "You're studying? On Christmas?"
"Oh...I'm just...taking a break."
"But it's Christmas." She gave me a look. Her purse was stuck in the crevice between her forearm and her biceps.
"Yeah..." I said, not quite sure how to cover that.
"So," my mother said quickly. I was grateful for a change in subject. That meant I was off the hook. "Where's the boy? My girl's finally caught herself a real live boyfriend!"
I rolled my eyes and remembered to play the part. "He went home. Remember? The place you told me I couldn't go?"
"Oh. Right." Honest to Merlin, sometimes I felt like I was mothering her, the way she talked to me.
"Mom, don't you have somewhere to be?" I said impatiently.
"I left your father at the resort in the Alps." She handed me a small package, then took some Floo powder from her Versace bag. "Merry Christmas, Evie."
"Yeah," I said, hugging her. "Tell Dad Merry Christmas for me, too."
"Okay. By the way, I'll owl you about getting that boy of yours over for dinner." She winked. I cringed.
"'Bye, Mom!" I smiled. She left my sight.
Great. Just great. Dinner? I wasn't even prepared for this; George wouldn't even be close.
"Evie, I've been looking for you! Your mom—"
"Just left," I finished for Tasha, facing my friend. "I'm betting I got here right on time?"
"Yeah," she grinned, and took a deep breath. "We both would have been dead!"
I let out a big breath and slung my arm around Tasha's shoulder.
"Let's go to Hogsmeade. A butterbeer sounds nice."
"Quite," she agreed.
It was around noon when Malfoy called to me, "Locke, wait up." I turned around, flipping my dirty blonde hair over my shoulder.
"Hi," I said. I wasn't sure if I should be hostile or nice, so I decided on indifferent. I would have to make up my mind before adequately judging how to greet Draco Malfoy.
"Where's Weasel—I mean, your boyfriend?"
"Nice save. He's at home," I rolled my eyes.
"Good. Care to join me for a game of Quidditch?" He asked. I giggled at the way he was talking. He looked much like a butler.
Even though I was horrible at anything involving hand-eye coordination, and I was confused as to why we were suddenly friends, I didn't question it and replied, "Why, sir, I'd be delighted." My English accent was horrible. I smiled in spite of it.
"Great!" He dragged me to the pitch.
"Stop it!" I couldn't help but smile at Malfoy's outrageous behavior. It was me, 40, to him, 50, and he was now juggling the Quaffle in his thin hands. "You're just trying to stop me from winning."
"Ah, but it's working," Malfoy said, raising his blonde eyebrows. "And besides, you won't win anyway. Englishmen are better at Quidditch. And certainly Malfoys, too."
"Better than who?" I said, tossing the Quaffle from one hand to the other. "Certainly not Evie Locke, American quidditch player extraordinaire!" I flew forward slowly, concentrating on not dropping the Quaffle. I threw the ball toward the middle hoop and to my surprise, I scored. "HA! We're tied. Five more goals 'till I win." I grinned.
10 minutes later I was on the ground, Malfoy striding next to me.
"100 to 50. I win!" Through some miraculous happening....
"I let you win. It is Christmas." Malfoy smirked. I couldn't argue with fact.
"Ew," I remarked when I saw his face, turning away and starting off the pitch.
"What?!" He exclaimed, rushing to catch up to me. "Is there something on my face?"
"Yes. That ugly little thing on your mouth," I said.
"What? What is it?!"
"Your smirk." I turned to face him. He wiped his face with his hands and when he took them away, the smirk was gone. "Much better."
There was a pause. He seemed to look into my eyes as if trying to get me to say something. It puzzled me. I wasn't quite sure what he wanted me to say...
"Locke," he said after a while. He stepped closer to me. "Can I—"
"I have to meet Tasha," I said, suddenly remembering the time. I wasn't trying to cut him off, I just got caught up in what I had to do. "I'm sorry! I had a lot of fun, Malfoy. Thanks." I felt myself smiling faintly.
"Anytime," he said rather dejectedly, the Malfoy sneer on his face. It broke my heart, but I had promised to meet Tasha and Viktor at Hogsmeade for a Christmas get-together and I hadn't exactly planned on beating Draco Malfoy at quidditch.... I hoped George got my note and made it.
I left the pitch, leaving Malfoy behind.
*****
Tasha
**
When George showed up at Hogsmeade, he looked like he'd been summoned by the Mafia or something. He looked so stressed and nervous, until he finally settled into his chair and drank a few sips of his butterbeer. We'd ordered four. Evie came in a bit later and took the remaining butterbeer, kissing George on the cheek.
"Evie, what's going on?" He asked, the nervous look returning.
"My mom wants me to bring George home for dinner. She said she'd be talking to your mom about Viktor, too." She bit her lip.
Viktor looked a bit confused, but Evie seemed to be on a different wavelength entirely.
"Evie, are you okay?" I asked her.
She nodded quickly. "I'm fine. Just worried, I guess." As if to prove the point, she gulped quite audibly. Her eyes, though, were mixed with a distraction, like she'd been somewhere she hadn't expected and didn't want anyone to know about it.
Once we calmed her down and got her back to normal, we got to talking and didn't head back to Hogwarts until sundown. Viktor walked me to the common room.
"Hey Viktor, I've got some organizing to do. Want to help?" I asked, wanting to spend more time with him.
"I'd lauff to, Natasha." He smiled like I'd given him some relieving news. I giggled at his version of the word "love."
I turned to the Slytherin wall, told it the password, then snuck Viktor in, running to my dormitory as fast as we could.
He looked amused when he saw the poster Evie's mom had given me, but didn't say anything. We just exchanged glances. We sat on my floor, going through my desk when Draco burst in.
He looked at me, then at Viktor, and then the mess my room was in.
"What happened here?"
I looked at him bemusedly. "We're organizing all of my junk. Want to help?" I asked in a chipper voice.
He looked like I'd asked if he wanted to marry Ron Weasley. He didn't even answer—he just scurried to his room and shut the door. I stuck my tongue out childishly at his retreat and went back to organizing all of my old homework and papers. Viktor tapped me on the shoulder after a while, pointing to my window. The family owl, Tempest, held a big package and a note along with it.
I opened my window and he flew to me, dropping the package in my lap with an apathetic hoot.
"Thanks, Tempest," I said, and petted his soft brown head before he flew off to the Owlery.
My mother's formal handwriting was quilled on the note.
Darling Natasha,
Cady has told us of your new friend, so enclosed is an invitation for you, Evie, and your gentlemen to attend the annual New Year's Gala.
Much Love,
Mom
"Vat is it?" Viktor asked, leaning over my shoulder at an unusually close angle. I smiled.
"Read it." He did. I opened the package Tempest had dropped in my lap, still wrapped to perfection. Inside was a gorgeous emerald green dress with a tag written in French that I didn't understand. I held up the dress.
"Wow," Viktor breathed. "It's almost as beautiful as you."
I laughed. "You're so lucky cheesy works on me." He smiled, as if sharing a private joke, and kissed me softly. It was short, shorter than I wanted, but it left me stunned and joyful from the inside out.
"I should go," Viktor said. A feeling much like a rock dropped in my stomach. I didn't want him to leave!
"Good night," I said, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him once more.
"Good night, Natasha," he whispered before leaving.
After he left, I studied the dress. It was strapless, with a jeweled bodice and a long skirt that reminded me of a princesses' dress. It was breathtaking, but a nagging feeling persisted in the pit of my stomach.
Although I had a gorgeous dress and a gorgeous boyfriend—who happened to be a really good kisser—I was anxious. Meeting the parents? I wasn't so thrilled.
****************