Thank you to Olivia0707 for leaving a review! This chapter begins the summer break from Hogwarts.

"MARGAUX!" Lenore shouted as her sister descended the hallway steps. "YOU LOOK GORGEOUS."

Placing one foot in front of the other, Margaux teetered down the stairs garbed in all her end-of-term dance gear. Her long maroon dress shimmered in the natural light streaming in from the front door, each sequined bead reflecting the light ten-fold.

"You really are beautiful, baby," said their mother, Clair Henry. Clair was shorter than Margaux, with wavy golden brown hair styled just above her shoulders, bright blue eyes, and tanned, youthful skin. Clair's arms shot out for the camera on the hall table. "Is Michael coming soon?"

"He should be here any moment," Margaux said, glancing at the clock on the wall.

"Are you really going to walk to the school in those heels?" Lenore asked.

"His mom is going drive us," Margaux said.

At that moment, Tim Henry emerged from the kitchen, a cup of coffee in his hand. He was a worn-looking intellectual-type, only a few inches taller than Lenore, with thick salt and pepper hair and a mustache to match, thick-rimmed glasses, and energetic brown eyes.

"Tim, isn't it a bit late to be drinking coffee?" Clair said. "You're going to be up all night."

"I'm preparing to wait up for Margaux," he said slyly as he took a sip of the bitter black liquid. "Sweetie, you look wonderful."

"I said I would be awake," Lenore said. "You don't have to stay up."

"Ha!" Tim laughed. "Yes, how about I just let my fifteen year old daughter wander around the town at night? That sounds like a plan. Thank you, Lenore, for bringing that idea to my attention. If anyone needs me, I'll be in the den watching TV and ignoring my children."

"What's different from any other day?" Lenore grinned.

Tim lightly smacked his oldest daughter with the paperback novel he clutched. "Nonsense," he smiled. "And don't make jokes, because you get to be the favorite child today."

"What?" Margaux demanded. "Why?"

"Because Lenore steers clear of boys," he smiled.

"More like boys steer clear of her!"

Lenore faked offense as Tim laughed. Behind them, they heard a knock on the door. "I'll get it!" Clair shouted.

Her wrist turned the doorknob, revealing a smiling young man on the front porch. He was handsome, with tanned skin, floppy gold hair, and a bright smile. In his hands, he held a small white corsage.

"Hi, Mrs. Henry!" he said warmly. "Is Margaux here?"

"You just missed her," Lenore stepped in. "She left without you and said to meet her there."

Margaux yelled, "Hey!" as her sister feigned closing the door. She hurried down the last few steps and opened the door again. Behind her, she heard the sound of Lenore and Tim's hands slap into a high-five.

"Sorry about them," she said to Michael.

He grinned. "Perfectly alright. You look lovely tonight, as always."

Margaux's blush was interrupted by her mother's screech.

"Everyone out to the front lawn!" Clair said. "We've got to take photos."

As Clair exited the house, her eyes moved over to the street. She squinted at the Chevrolet SUV parked in front of the house. "Why… is that Debra?"

Michael's eyes flickered between Margaux and Clair. "Yes, ma'am, do you know my mother?"

"Debra!" Clair called with a wave.

The woman in the drivers seat jumped out of the car faster than they expected. Within seconds, she was in Clair's arms, giving her kisses on the cheek.

"Clair!" the tall blonde woman cooed. "Oh my gawwwwwd! I haven't seen you in years!"

"Oh god," Clair said, "how long has it been?"

"Nearly fifteen years," Debra said, pointing to Michael. "Remember the office threw us that joint baby shower?"

"I do!" Clair gasped. "Oh my, I feel ancient now. Look at you! You've only gotten more beautiful with time!"

"You, too, dear!"

"Wait," Margaux interjected. "You two know each other?"

"We sure do!" Debra said. "Your mother and I used to work at the Embassy together. She worked in accounting, I worked in the visa department. After Michael was born, I became a stay-at-home mum and we lost track of each other after a few years. Oh, this is wonderful. I had no idea we lived in the same area! Or that our kids knew each other!"

"Me neither! This is fantastic. We need to catch up."

"How about after I drop these two off, we go for coffee?" suggested Debra.

"Sounds like a plan! We'll have to—"

"Mum," Lenore cut her off. "Can I take the photos while you blab away? They are already late to the dance."

Clair shot her daughter an annoyed glance, but handed her the camera.

"Thank god," Margaux breathed.

The pair posed in plenty of serious and playful poses as Lenore snapped away. Tim shook Michael's hand, scared the piss out of him, and the two found themselves in the back of Debra's car, with Clair sitting in the front seat loudly laughing at their nickname for their old supervisor.

"Well, this is off to a great start," Michael whispered.

"Could be worse," Margaux grinned. "It could have been revealed that we are cousins."

"Very true," the boy smiled.

Debra dropped the kids off on the curb outside the school gymnasium. Michael assured his mother he would be home by midnight and that his friend Kunal would give them a safe ride home. Outside, dozens of strange teenagers toed the concrete slab into the gym. Margaux suddenly felt nervous. To her left, she felt Michael slip his hand in hers.

"Alright, Mar," Michael said, "now remember this is a state school dance. This won't be anything like your fancy private school functions."

Margaux laughed. "I have no airs. Except there is a pair of underwear on the ground over there."

Michael smiled at the lacy pink thong someone had apparently abandoned in the car park before the dance. "It's about to get much worse."

The gymnasium was hot and humid. Large industrial fans blew air in from outside, but it did not help with the humidity.

"You don't have air conditioning in here?" Margaux asked.

"What did you think this was? Kensington Palace?"

Margaux elbowed him with a giggle. The room was dark and filled with activity. Straight ahead, a dance floor featuring about four hundred kids shook the entire room. Against the left wall, a long table offered small desserts and individually canned drinks.

"What, no punch bowl?" she asked.

"No, not after last year when someone spiked it."

"I wasn't aware that happened outside the movies."

"Oh, there's a lot of things that go on here that will surprise you," he said. "Come on, want to meet my friends? You might remember some of them."

Margaux obliged and followed Michael across the gym and through the dance floor to some tables where four teens sat.

"Oi!" Michael said. "This is Margaux Henry."

The first to shake her hand was a tall, thin boy with brown hair named Greg. Next, a short, older looking boy called Kunal gave her a firm handshake. Finally, the girl with pink and black braids named Heather hugged her and said, "I remember you! In year five we sat together at lunch sometimes!"

"Oh, I do remember!" Margaux said. "Wow! You grew up so pretty!"

Heather blushed. "Thanks! You are so pretty, too! I remember you had the longest blonde hair. I like it short like that, it's very stylish!"

"Thank you!" Margaux cooed. "I love your braids!"

"Do you really?" she asked as she glanced down at her hair. "I got them put in because I knew they'd match my dress, but now I'm thinking they're too much."

"Absolutely not! I love your whole outfit."

Heather placed her hand over her heart. "You're sweet!"

"Did you want to dance now that Michael is here?" Kunal asked Heather.

"What about Greg?"

Michael whispered in Margaux's ear, "Greg's date is here, but she is ignoring him."

"I'll be fine," Greg sighed. "You lot go on. I've got these cupcakes to keep me company."

Heather bit her lip to stop from laughing, so Margaux felt her amusement was validated. "California Love" by 2Pac blasted over the speakers as Michael took her hand and led her to the floor. They had a grand time getting down to the wild rap and dance music the DJ played, until after about five songs blended seamlessly into the next the DJ slowed it down with a Michael Bolton song. Half the dance floor cleared, leaving the group of four to split down the middle. Michael wrapped his arms around Margaux's back with a smile, which made her heart flutter. She returned the motion and they stepped nimbly over each other's feet.

"You're a pretty good dancer," she laughed.

"Thank you," he said in mock self-absorption, "I am quite the athlete."

She clutched his back tighter as the song surrounded her ears.

"Shit," Michael murmured into her shoulder after a minute.

"What?"

"Greg's date is dancing with another bloke."

"Where?"

"To your left. The girl in the light blue dress."

Margaux casually glanced in that direction. She saw a heavier-set, but still very pretty, girl dancing with a guy much fitter than Greg. "Oh, shit," Margaux said. "Should we do anything?"

"We could—"

But Michael was cut off by the sound of Greg's fist pounding the boy in the face. The bloke stumbled back, his rear hitting the floor as he fell and slid towards the DJ stage.

"Oh shit," Michael said, letting go of Margaux. "I'll be right back."

The bloke's friends came to his aid and started for Greg. Michael grabbed his friend's arm and pushed him towards the emergency exit. "Go! Go!" Margaux heard him shout over the music. Michael forced Greg out the door and told him to run. He closed the door and ran back to Margaux, as the three huge boys hurdled out the door after Greg.

"Shit!" Margaux said. "Is he going to be okay?"

"He'll be fine," Michael said. "Greg can run. But if they catch him, it's not looking up. All three of those boys are on the wrestling team."

Margaux looked around wildly. Nobody even seemed to be disturbed, not even the teachers. "Does this stuff happen all the time?"

"All the time," Michael emphasized.

The music changed from slow to a Wheezer song Margaux vaguely remembered hearing her sister play. And so they went through that pattern a few times more, until Michael and Margaux found themselves together again exchanging playful banter. In the heat of the gymnasium, Margaux's palms began to sweat. Actually, quite a bit of her was sweating. "It's so hot in here," she said.

"I know," Michael said. "It's awful. We can leave soon if you want."

"Okay, next bad song, we'll go. Sorry my hands are all sweaty," she said, breaking their hands apart so she could wipe them on her palms on her dress.

"Totally fine," Michael said. "I bet I look like a mess right now."

"Nah," Margaux grinned.

"Well, that's good," he smiled back. "Because I wouldn't want to look awful next to someone as pretty as you."

Margaux nervousness tripled. She could not explain why. She had always been comfortable around Michael, and vice versa. It must have been the added pressure of romance surrounding the air. Just as that thought crossed Margaux's mind, she heard a few people gasp at the front of the room. She peered over the crowd and saw a boy kneeling on the ground underneath a white plastic arch used as a decoration for the theme: "An Evening in Ancient Rome." A girl stood above him, clutching her hands against her mouth. He took out a cheap, sparkling ring, slipped it over her finger, and she screamed with glee.

"Someone just got engaged?" Margaux's eyes widened. "What the hell?"

"I told you," Michael laughed, "expect the worst. That is high on the list of trashy things I've seen, but it doesn't top it."

"What tops it?"

"Probably that guy over there wearing a suit pattern with one-hundred pound notes and carrying a pimp cane."

Margaux laughed when she spotted the boy.

"On that note," Michael said, "did you want to get out of here?"

"Yeah," Margaux said, "I think I've seen enough and I'm burning up. What time is it anyways?"

"A little past ten. We can either go out to eat or go to a party. I'm not sure if you're the party type, but—"

"Oh, I am," Margaux said. "I want to go."

"Alright," he smiled. "You don't have to drink if you don't want to. I'll probably only have a cup or two."

"Me, too," Margaux said.

The group gathered into Kunal's car and drove a few streets over to the party. It was being held in a small single story home painted white with blue shutters. "Whose house is this?" Margaux asked.

"Some guy who graduated last year. His name's Matt. It's actually his grandmother's house, but his parents gave it to him when they sent her to a nursing home," Kunal said as he removed the key from the ignition.

"So, what," Margaux said, "are the toilets going to have bars on the wall to prop yourself up?"

Heather laughed. "That'll come in handy when I get pissed tonight."

Margaux had never been to a muggle party before. She did not know what to expect. Wizarding parties could get crazy. So far, the scene appeared tame.

"Wait," Michael said to Margaux. He got out of the car, jogged over to her side and opened the door for her.

"Thank you," she smiled.

"Why didn't you do that for me?" Heather smacked Kunal lightly on the chest.

"Ouch, woman! You were out of the car before I got the chance. You were a little too excited for that Smirnoff Ice."

"Do you like Smirnoff Ice?" Heather turned to Margaux.

Margaux did not want to say she did not know what the drink was. She was used to the oddly named wizard drinks, but she simply nodded.

As they entered the house, the scene changed dramatically. People floated everywhere. The walls thumped from the loud speakers in the hallway. The rooms were well lit, despite the events Margaux had seen go down in Hollywood movies. Everyone, for the most part, was still clad in their dance gowns and suits, minus the jackets.

"Greg!" Michael called.

The thin boy bounced over to the group, already drunk off his ass on what looked like Jack Daniels in his plastic cup. "Hey, mate! How was the rest of the dance?"

"Great!" Michael said. "You would have known if you hadn't punched out Jack Weaver."

"Look," Greg pointed at nothing in particular, "Jack is a git and Claudia can do better! That's all I wanted to say!"

Kunal scoffed. "Well, ya said it loud and clear!"

"What happened when Weaver's goons chased you?"

Greg's eyelids kept rolling open and closed. "I ESCAPED," he shouted much louder than the rest of his sentence. "Those pricks can't outrun me! I scaled a goddamn fence and left those fat fuckers in the dust. Then I came to Matt's house to refuel AND HERE I AM!" He raised his cup.

Michael gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Good for you, mate. Be careful with the drinking tonight. We've got a meet next Wednesday."

So, Greg was on the swim team, Margaux realized. The boys bid their farewells to Greg and Heather led Margaux directly back to the fridge in the kitchen. She grabbed two individual bottles of the cloudy vodka, popped the tops off, and handed one to Margaux.

"Tastes like Sprite," she said as she gulped one down. By the time Margaux took one sip, Heather was already prying the top off another bottle.

"Where did your first bottle go?" Margaux asked.

Michael put his arm around Margaux's shoulder. "Heather is what we like to call 'borderline alcoholic.'"

Heather sneered at him. "You can't be fifteen and an alcoholic. That's a word for adults."

"As someone less than a year and half from adulthood," Kunal said, "I assure you, that word can apply to you."

"Shut up," she smiled as she pressed her lips against his.

The couple began to make out vigorously, so Michael led Margaux to the living room. "You want to just sit on the couch and people watch?" he asked.

"Sounds good," she said. She sat next to Michael on the small couch and sipped gingerly on her vodka. "This does not taste like Sprite."

"Is that what Heather told you?" he grinned. "That flavor is awful. The Screwdrivers are much better."

"That's the one I wanted to try, but she handed me this one. What are you drinking?"

"A Mike's Hard," he swirled the liquid around the bottle.

"That stuff it awful," she said. "It's so sweet."

"It is quite nasty," he agreed. "But I don't want to get drunk."

"Why not?"

"Because I want to spend time with you," he said with a hint of anxiety in his voice. "And I want to remember it."

Margaux's stomach clenched. She bit her lip into a smile. "So," she said. "Tell me what it's like going to school with these people."

"Well," Michael scooted in to whisper in her ear. "You see that guy over there? In the red baseball cap?"

Margaux nodded.

"He's a father of two."

He eyes grew wide.

"And that girl over there in the short purple dress?"

Again, a nod.

"She sucks off one of the substitute science teachers for fun."

"Oh my god," Margaux said. "Tell me more rumors."

"Nah," Michael said. "I wouldn't want you to think I'm a gossip."

"Come on!" Margaux pleaded. "I know you are perfectly lovely."

She saw Michael blush a little. "Alright," he agreed. "That guy in the white suit? He fingered a girl on the bus last year."

Margaux crinkled her nose but laughed.

"Last one," Michael said, "because I feel like a bad person. That girl in the jumpsuit? She's banned from the Nando's on Oak Street for stealing cutlery. They caught her walking out with twenty spoons gripped between her thighs and an equal number of forks in her purse. "

Margaux giggled. "Does it kind of make you wonder what they say about you?"

"Oh, I know what they say about me," Michael said.

"What's that?"

He leaned in close to her ear and whispered, "See that guy in the red bowtie next to the charming girl? One time, during a swim meet, his Speedo fell off in the pool."

Margaux gasped as a smile flashed across her face. "No!"

"Yes," he said. "I had to climb out of the pool naked in front of the entire team, along with teams from seven other schools, parents, and even some students in the audience."

"That's awful!" she laughed. "Was it embarrassing?"

"Well, it happened like a month ago, so I'd say I'm still feeling the embarrassment," he grinned.

The pair talked the rest of the evening way. After what seemed like twenty minutes, but was actually two hours, Kunal announced he was taking Heather home and told Margaux and Michael to get in the car. They helped a very drunk Heather into the front seat. They dropped her off first, sitting in the car as Kunal helped her into the house and presumably into her bed.

"Won't her parents see her coming in drunk?" Margaux asked.

"Nah," Michael said. "She hasn't got a mom and her dad's great but he works the night shift."

"Oh," was all Margaux said. She did not remember that conversation coming up at the year five lunch table.

"Are one of you going to move to the front seat or am I going to chauffeur you around?" Kunal said as he beat a hand to the passenger seat.

"Take us on a drive, Jeeves!" Michael waved.

Kunal started the engine. "This is some racist bullshit," he muttered under his breath, which made his two passengers nearly choke on their own laughter.

Margaux gave him her address and he cruised over the empty midnight streets as a soft rock song played over the FM radio. "Right there!" Margaux pointed to her two-story brick house.

Kunal stopped the car. Michael again jogged over to her side to open the door. He walked her to her front porch.

"I had a lovely time," Margaux said.

"Gosh," Michael said, "I did, too."

"We'll have to hang out more this summer while I'm home."

"We will," Michael agreed.

"So…" Margaux said.

Michael gulped. "So…"

On a whim, she leaned in and pressed his lips to hers quickly. The sensation caused her stomach to flutter. She pulled away after a few seconds.

"Goodnight," Michael grinned.

"Goodnight," Margaux replied sweetly.

She opened her front door, turned off the porch lights, and locked the bolt.

"Well," Lenore said, turning around from her spot on the couch. "You're back a little early."

Margaux glanced at the clock. She was home fifteen minutes before curfew.

"Did you have fun?" Tim asked.

"Yes," Margaux said. "It was fun. Muggle dances are different than anything I've ever been to."

Tim stood up, kissed his daughter on the head, and said "Glad you had fun. I'm going to bed now. Night, sweetie."

Margaux followed him up the stairs, with Lenore at her heels. She entered her bedroom and Lenore closed the door behind them.

"Len, you're supposed to be on the other side of the door," Margaux said.

"Did you kiss?" Lenore grinned.

"That's none of your business."

"So, yes."

Margaux laughed. "Maybe. He's so sweet."

"Good," Lenore smiled. "I'll leave you alone, now. Goodnight."

And what a night it had been. That evening, Margaux had nothing but happy dreams.