On the trip home for Christmas, Eglantine shared a compartment with the Fanshaw sisters and Gilderoy Lockhart, who had fastened himself to Juliette like an admiring, cartoon-eyed louse. Gilderoy had been the pasty, blond child from the platform whose parents had been lecturing him about the importance of pimple cream, she remembered. She didn't understand their urgency: Gilderoy didn't look like he had ever even seen a pimple. He had the perfect pink and white Tudor rose complexion that usually belonged to people in eighteenth century portraits. When he smiled, it was like one of those over-the-top American Muggle toothpaste adverts, and he seemed to rarely stop smiling. Eglantine thought that he was rather clever, despite his appearance, but he was certainly obnoxious beyond belief.
She'd been getting used to Esmeralda. She was in her year, in her house, which meant they'd already been roommates for six years, but she'd never really paid her much mind. Most Ravenclaws were useless to her: they were either overly studious, like Boyden Clearwater, one of those hopelessly insecure overachiever types, like Theresa Oldenkirk, or just utterly boring. Esmeralda was definitely the latter sort, but perhaps missing Cam had made room for another utterly boring person in her life. Cam was always there to throw a wet blanket over her crazier ideas, and though she was getting better at doing that herself, she still liked to have the wet-blanketing come from the outside every now and then. Esmeralda helped her talk through her ideas and make them more suited to reality, just as Cam used to do. She had found a spell to turn her hair a stunning shade of blonde, and Esmeralda had talked her out of it: that had been the genesis of their new friendship. Esmeralda had also talked her out of going out with Gaspard Shingleton, because even though he had a fantastic New Year's party every year (which was the only reason she even talked to him; she was planning ahead) he reeked of cabbage and had an overbite like a Clydesdale. It was the whinny that had really won Eglantine over. She hadn't known that Esmeralda was aware of jokes, and the sheer surprise had impressed her.
Esmeralda was full of anxiety about some massive Muggle Christmas party her father was holding, because her flat-chested self was expected to wear a grown-up dress for the first time, in public, and said dress stood out several inches from her front.
Eglantine, meanwhile, was hoping that Voldemort wouldn't come calling on any Bertrands for the holidays. He'd been worryingly quiet since Crevan's murder, with only one Dark Mark murder spree: a house full of college-age Muggles at Oxford, whose party had been ambushed by a Death Eater.
She listened to Gilderoy going on to Juliette about how, out of all his family, he was the most talented wizard, and what a burden he expected it to be in future years. Juliette was responding in a thinly-veiled sort of way that she felt the same about being the most attractive member of the Fanshaw family, casting pitying glances at Esmeralda, who was hardly a cave troll.
They were somewhere in Nottinghamshire when there was a knock at the door. The person had their back to the door: male, tallish. Not James, because there weren't any cowlicks. Not Peter or Remus—their hair was lighter. Not Severus: clean hair.
"Isn't that Sirius Black?" said Juliette, batting her eyelashes. (Gilderoy looked momentarily deflated.) "What does he want?" It was plain that she thought it was her that he wanted: she was fluffing her hair.
"I expect he wants Eglantine," said Esmeralda.
"How do you know?"
Esmeralda just shrugged, but Eglantine thought that she was probably right. He didn't even know Juliette or Esmeralda, and certainly didn't know Gilderoy (at least, she didn't think so, because Gilderoy hadn't had any pranks played on him yet, much to her chagrin. She'd have to introduce them). Why was he standing like that, though? Almost…furtive.
She stuck her head off. "Yes?"
"Come out. Please?"
She was about to sigh impatiently, but she was curious. It was exciting, almost mysterious, that he should show up here after months of mutual ignoring. It was probably something disappointing and petty that he wanted to discuss, but all the same.
She slid out, and followed him as he waved her further down the train to an empty compartment right at the very end.
"What?" she said. "Awfully secret, this."
"I didn't want James around." He shrugged. He was frowning, which was odd—apart from when he was moping in her closet, she had scarcely seen him without an aggravating little smirk on, that said, I'm thinking of ways to cause trouble.
"Why?"
"Er…well, because."
"Because why?"
"I—er—well, about a week ago, I got this." He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket, and Eglantine recognized her mother's handwriting instantly. "Your mum invited me to your house for Christmas Eve."
"Oh. Well—er—that was nice of her, wasn't it? She knows you're staying with the Potters. Cam knew you were there all summer—I didn't tell her, she just knew—and I imagine she told Mum. Mum probably just wants to pry into your life. You don't have to go. It's the thought that counts, isn't it?"
"I'm coming."
She narrowed her eyes. "How? And why are you telling me ahead of time, like I've got to be warned?"
He sighed and slumped back in his seat. "To answer your first question, I plan on lying. I don't make it a habit to lie to my best friend, but just because he's my best friend doesn't mean he can't be stupid sometimes. I think he'll come around eventually. If Lily Evans can change her mind, so can he. And to answer your second question, I'm telling you ahead of time because you've been weird. You've been acting like I don't exist. You kissed me that second time, remember? All of a sudden you're acting like I did something foul to you."
"I am not! It's just weird, all right? I told you, I've never kissed anybody who's—who's a friend. It would be like kissing Peter, for Merlin's sake—"
"Oh, thanks!"
"Bad comparison, sorry. All right, it would be like…like kissing one of the Prewetts. Awkward, you know? There's so much…knowledge there."
"I thought you and Cam fancied the Prewetts."
"They're fit, yeah, but we've never tried to snog them, have we? Nobody has. Well, by nobody, I mean—Belinda probably has, but to her, snogging is like just waving casually to somebody. They're kind of old for me, anyway. There are probably laws against that. And what do you mean, 'if Lily Evans can change her mind'?"
He gave her an odd look. "I thought you'd know. James hasn't exactly achieved victory yet, but Lily's starting to warm to him. She's stopped calling him names. And once I caught her looking at him as if he wasn't horrendously annoying."
Eglantine snorted. "Achieved victory. Lily's not a Quidditch match, she's a person."
"Did you two have a falling-out or something? I thought you'd know already."
"I suppose. She's sort of conceited, you know? It gets grating after a while."
"I've never found her to be conceited."
"She thinks everybody fancies her."
"A lot of people do."
"She thinks they fancy her so much that she's like some kind of celebrity."
"Surely she doesn't."
"Whatever, maybe she doesn't, it's obnoxious."
He just gave the smirk. "Do you mind it? Me coming?"
"No, why should I? You used to go to Crevan's. I think James might mind if he finds out, though."
"He won't. I haven't even got to use Floo powder. Your mum made me a Portkey that I can use at any point Christmas Eve. And I'm not staying long. If he asks, I'll just say I've been to Peter's. He said he'd cover for me."
"Oh, yes, and Peter's a fantastic liar. Very strong personality. He'd never tell James at all."
"It won't be a problem."
"Why do you want to go so badly? It's not even fun. If I were in your shoes, I'd say, 'Too much trouble, thanks very much, I'll just hang around with the Potters and play board games.'"
"Oh. Well, old times sake and all that. I know you're not nostalgic, but I suppose I am." He stood up abruptly. "That's all. I've got to get back. I'd just told them I was going to the loo."
"Yes, you probably ought to get back. Wouldn't want James to know you're doing something you're not supposed to."
"He doesn't control what I do, Eggs. And I've never understood why you dislike him."
"We've been through this. He dislikes me. Also, he's a twat. End of story."
"He's my best friend."
"I have no obligation to like your friends, Sirius. I like Esmeralda, but I haven't got to like her sister."
He wrinkled his nose. "Julia, isn't it? Awful girl. No, I shouldn't think you have to like her."
"And I don't have to like James. I don't know why it even matters."
"I don't know, either. Well. I guess I'll see you."
He kissed her on the forehead, a quick and nervous darting kiss, like a chicken eating a kernel, and her first thought was of Snow White kissing Dopey the dwarf. Who even did that? Was she a toddler? She knew she wasn't tall, but she wasn't exactly, well, a dwarf.
God, was he weird.