A/N: Here it is. Written in just four days. Beta'd by Molivline (thank her for all the little words that I always forget, ex. 'the'). The biggest. Chapter. Ever. Actually, no, that's false, there's a bunch of stuff that'll go down at the end of Molly Gale's school year, but this is SUPER HUGE TOO. so. You know. Enjoy. Because not all chapters will be this dramatic.

Don't Trust Me

Black dress with the tights underneath,
I got the breath of the last cigarette on my teeth,
And she's an actress, but she ain't got no need
She's got money from her parents in a trust fund back east...
Bruises cover your arms,
Shaking in the fingers with the bottle in your palm,
And the best is, no one knows who you are,
Just another girl, alone at the bar.
Don't trust a whore, Never trust a whore,
Won't trust a whore,
Don't trust me.

-3Oh!3

After a blow up—whether it was between Nate and me or me and Dad or whatever—Nate and I didn't talk. We let the distance grow because Nate and I both needed regrouping time—time to pick ourselves up off the floor and root through the disaster that had just occurred, try to figure out what went wrong. Sometimes—like when I got kicked out—we threw each other an I'm alive note, but only when things were bad. So I was expecting, post-Saturday, to not here from Nate for a while.

But here we were on the fifth day, and I had heard nothing from Nate.

Not a word. And it was screwing with my brain. I was thinking up every nightmare situation that I could, and all of them left me with a brain aneurysm. I even had a nightmare Wednesday night that had robbed me of what little sleep I had managed to claim between correcting Cormac's Transfiguration term paper and doing my own homework. But that was why, when Albus tapped my shoulder on Thursday morning at breakfast, I jumped maybe a foot in the air and knocked my plate into my empty cup, sending it clattering. Fred caught it with his ninja skills, setting it back on the table to a muttered thanks from me.

"Good morning." Albus said slowly. "Someone's jumpy." He pointed out, slipping into the seat beside me. He grabbed the pitcher of pumpkin juice, then my cup, pouring me some, and he set it down in front of me. I blinked down at it, before I looked back up at him. "You look like you could use it." He said.

"That bad?" I asked, and Fred, across the table, grinned, drawing my gaze to him.

"You look like a zombie." He told me.

"You charmer." I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes; all the same, I reached up to fuss with my hair. "Is that how you get all the ladies?"

"Oh, yes." Fred said indulgently. "I tell them how terrible they look and they just… fall over their feet, getting to me."

"Mm-hmm." Albus said skeptically. "That's why you had to ask Maia to the dance twice before she said yes—"

"Switching topics." Fred said loudly as Rose and I laughed softly. "You ready for the game today?" He asked Albus, grinning. "Ready to kick some Slytherin ass?" He asked. I raised my eyebrows, glancing up at Albus. Today we had a big Quidditch game—the last one before break, and it was considered the kick off to Christmas break, coupled with the holiday dance. It was a big deal who won this game. And to make it worse, it was Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. The last game against Slytherin had been when I was dating Rory, and Albus hadn't caught the snitch, sending him into an angry, depressed state that I'd had to talk him out of. And I'd hoped, then, distantly, that the next game against Slytherin would be lower stakes, maybe a game on a Hogsmeade Saturday, so not as many people would come. But it seemed that Albus wasn't going to catch a break.

"Are you?" I asked curiously, when Albus didn't respond; he glanced down at me, his expression clearly telling me to shut up. I blinked, then yawned tiredly, covering my mouth with my hand, and when I recovered, Albus was frowning at me.

"You yawned." He noted. I raised my eyebrows.

"Indeed I did, oh observant one." I said, mocking him lightly.

"Bad night's sleep?" Albus asked me; I glanced at him, judging how seriously he would take my response.

"Nah," I lied.

"Liar." Rose immediately called me out on it, and then avoided my gaze; I couldn't help but wonder why. "She had a nightmare. After staying up half the night helping Cormac on his homework."

"It's fine." I said, cutting off Albus before he could start in.

"Sounds like it." Albus murmured sarcastically. "Nightmares. Always great." I didn't dignify that with a response. "What's up?" He asked me.

"The kids." I said after a moment, glancing up at Albus, my eyes—with the deep purple circles beneath them, a result of no sleep—meeting his green gaze. I was tired in more ways than one. My life had turned into a one-woman show of alright-ness. And no one was even watching anymore—everyone knew, thanks to the Prophet and Celia, how screwed up everything was.

"You haven't heard from Nate, still?" Fred asked after a moment. I glanced across the table at him, then shook my head once. "You think he's okay?" Fred asked after a second, his voice careful.

"Nate can take care of himself." I said, and this was the first thing I was properly sure of. Dad was crazy, Mum wouldn't do a thing to stop him, Cal and Ellie were too young to do anything for themselves. But Nate was strong. Just like me. "Let's talk about something else."

"Alright." Rose straightened up. "Let's talk about the dance." The boys groaned and I winced; Rose smiled angelically at us.

"Do we have to?" Al demanded.

"Yes." She said firmly to him. "Did you ask anyone to the dance?" Albus choked on the sip of his own Pumpkin juice; I laughed softly, even as Fred shot Rose an annoyed look. I understood the feeling, even if I was better at hiding my annoyance; it seemed like all Rose could talk about was the dance. Granted, it was tonight, so maybe today it was warranted, but she'd been talking about it for weeks. "Alright, taking that as a no." She continued, oblivious to our irritation, and looked at me. "Molly Gale, did anyone ask you?" I frowned at her, letting that be my answer. "Another no." She looked at Fred, and he stiffened. "Why are we the only social ones in this group?"

"Well," Fred's voice was acidic, and my eyes widened as I recognized the sound of Fred genuinely angry about something, "you're going with Molly's ex-boyfriend, so I'm fairly sure that actually loses you any points you would have gained." Fred said shortly, before he took a sip of the coffee in his cup, calm as anything. Rose straightened up defensively as I stared at Fred, silence falling over Al, Rose and me. Oh, Hell.

"It's fine with Molly." Rose snapped at Fred, her face turning red. I raised my eyebrows; Rose had never asked me if it was fine with me. And no one with eyes and ears would have been convinced by my performance in the dress shop. "She dumped him like two months ago—"

"It's still weird." Fred said shortly, glancing at Rose; she flinched a little. Rose could yell at people, but the second you pushed her on anything, she tended to collapse in on herself rather than stand up for whatever it was she was supposed to be supporting. "You're her best friend and you're going with her ex-boyfriend. That's bad." I swallowed. That sounded bad, and it was bad, a little bit.

"She didn't even treat him well." Rose snapped.

"He accused me of cheating." I said to Rose, frowning at her. "I wasn't. Who treated whom badly, again?"

"You practically cheated." She said, turning to me wildly, pushing her hair out of her face, glaring at me.

The silence returned: Fred, Al and I exchanged looks, then stared at Rose, who frantically looked around from person to person, as if expecting to see some sort of support from Albus or Fred. Rose thought I'd cheated on Rory. I felt hurt swirl around somewhere in my head where I still allowed emotion, before I straightened up, my eyes narrowing as I tried to salvage what I could of this. But my brain kept popping back to the fact that Rose—my best friend, the girl with whom I trusted everything—had thought I was cheating on Rory. I'd thought she knew me better.

"I…" I fell silent. I didn't even know how to respond to this.

"Molly, think about it." Rose said heatedly, leaning forward; her words cut at me, and I glared at her. "The entire time you two were together, Rory was playing second fiddle to Albus." She gestured at her cousin across the table; Albus, beside me, was frozen. "Rory wanted to grab dinner, but Albus was upset about the game so you went and talked him down from his broom." Rose sounded so angry, now, that the emotion threw me off—why was she mad? Even if what she was saying was true—which it wasn't, I mean the incident was, but she wasn't right about the conclusion—what stake did she have in this that she got to be mad at me? "Rory told you how uncomfortable he was with you spending time with Albus and you blew him off." She paused, her gaze burning on me. I hadn't told her any of this; how did she know it? "And then Rory asked you to choose." Her voice was final, and cruel, and I felt my stomach knot. "And you chose Albus." She stared at me hard. "I'm still so stunned by the hypocrisy of it all." She glared at me. "You give me these big speeches about morality and treating boys like humans and—" She shook her head, as if disappointed in me. "And you cheated on a really nice boy."

I swallowed, feeling the bottom of my stomach disappear. I wasn't up for this—I was too tired to handle this, and 90% of my brain was already dedicated to worrying about Nate and Cal and Ellie, as it always was. I couldn't stand here and have Rose hurl insults at me, especially not insults that rung true. I wanted to smack Rose, or cry, maybe. But I didn't smack people and I certainly didn't cry. I was Molly Gale. I could weather my father, and I could weather my brother, and I could weather Rose Weasley.

"You want to talk hypocrisy?" I said after a moment, my voice low and lethal. I wasn't in the mood for a take down—this wasn't like anger at Celia, which was gratifying. This was just painful. "I stood by you while you cheated on nearly every guy in our grade—even the good ones. Liam was in fucking love with you, Rose. And you cheated on him with some Slytherin kid who you—shocker—cheated on." I raised my eyebrows. "There is no speech you could give me about cheating that I haven't given you a thousand times."

"I—" Rose fell silent, blushing as her eyes filled with tears. It was useless fighting with Rose because she always ended up in tears. Rose's tearful gaze flicked from me to Albus, then to Fred, as she searched for a sympathetic face. "Guys…" She sounded pathetic, her voice too high as she tried to sound angry rather than lonely. After a second, the tears overflowed, and she shoved herself to her feet, stepping over the bench and running down the pathway between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. Fred, Albus and I watched her go in silence, until she left the hall. Then I let my gaze flick the boys, my mouth a little open; even for Rose, drama queen extraordinaire, this was quite a performance. Albus was just frowning, looking a little irritated and a little confused, but Fred just rolled his eyes, grabbing his coffee and taking another sip. After he'd swallowed, he offered Albus and me a wan smile.

"What a great way to start the day."

"All right, guys, that's all." Professor Longbottom said, smiling at us from the front of the classroom. "I'm going to let you go early. Literally none of you are concentrating." He said the words in good humor, and usually I'd reward that with a smile, but I was far too preoccupied. Rose was sitting beside me—we were partners in this class—but she'd not said a word to me the entire class, studiously avoiding my gaze and not touching the note I'd slid across the table to her. I'd felt the boys watching us—trying to catch Rose's eye, or maybe mine, I wasn't sure—but I'd avoided them. Fighting with Rose this morning had left me horribly on edge.

"Rose." I said firmly as she slammed shut her textbook and shoved it in her bag. She didn't even glance at me as she lifted her bag onto her shoulder; meanwhile, I scrambled to get my notebook shut, lifting it into my arms rather than put it in my bag as I tried to catch up to Rose. I literally ran in front of her, stopping there as I stared at her. "Rose, I'm sorry about this morning—" I was left apologizing to Rose, here. This was pathetic. I was pathetic. But I'd rather lose the battle and save our friendship than the alternative.

"I don't want to talk about it." Rose murmured, pushing past me.

"Too bad." I growled at her, grabbing her bag; she turned around and tried to tug it from me, but I held on tightly. "Tell me what the hell's going on." She glared at me, but I held strong. Rose was a sprinter, in terms of fighting; she could fight admirably, for about three seconds. But then she got tired. I was a marathoner. I worked smarter, not harder, and shut people down long before they got started. If I just waited, Rose might give.

"I forgive you, okay." Rose hissed at me, the words sounding odd when she was obviously still so angry. "Done." I stared at her.

"You don't…" I heard my own vulnerability in my voice, and hated it, hastily covering it, but my words revealed how confused I was by this argument, "you don't sound like you forgive me." I pointed out.

"What do you want from me?" She demanded raggedly, her shoulder sagging, all the anger evaporating in a heartbeat.

"I want to know what's going on that's made you like this." I hissed, stepping closer to her. "You're my best friend, have been since we were eleven, and I have never seen you act so psychotic as you are today—"

"I am not acting psychotic—"

"Yeah, you are." I shot back. She fell silent, staring down at me.

"I'm sorry." She said after a second. Her voice was oddly resigned.

"That is not what I want." I told her slowly after a second. I didn't want an apology. I wanted an explanation.

"Too bad." Rose muttered. She tore away from me, her eyes filled with tears again as she ducked out of the Green House. I watched her go, feeling a numbness creep around my heart. What the hell was going on with Rose? She was acting crazy—literally insane. Rose had never been predictable—she had always been a bit of a wild card—but this was a new level. And I was too busy with every other thing going in my life right now to give a damn about what Rose was doing.

"Molly?" Professor Longbottom's voice broke my reverie. I glanced up at him, blinking hard to clear my vision, and he watched me sympathetically. "Everything okay?" He asked, glancing pointedly at the door that Rose had just stormed through. I hesitated, before I nodded.

"Fine." I said softly, as Albus came up behind me. I glanced back at Albus, thinking of what Rose had said this morning. I'd chosen Albus over Rory a hundred times when Rory and I were dating. I was sure that didn't constitute cheating, but it meant something. Maybe more than something, because I was the girl who pushed everyone away, and early on, I'd stopped pushing Albus away.

"You okay?" He asked me, putting a hand on my back and I felt it, now, wondering what it meant. Every time Albus had every touched me, every brush of our hands, every time he'd touched my hair, every time he'd called me love. What did they mean? I swallowed that question, immediately calling myself an idiot; I hated Rose for doing this to my brain. I knew what this meant—I'd known all along what Albus wanted, how he felt. I'd known since August 18th, when I'd wound up at the Leakey Cauldron and found Albus there and he'd flirted. I'd just been parading around like I didn't know, or maybe didn't care. And Rose was making me face up to the mess that was Albus Severus Potter.

"I have History of Magic." I said after a second, turning away from him and starting for the door.

"That wasn't an answer to my question." He told me, his voice slightly louder to make sure I heard his words even as I walked away.

"I don't have one." I told him, glancing back with a small, rueful smile.

At least I was being truthful.

"It's too fucking cold." Liam muttered as he slipped into the seat beside me, pulling his jacket tighter around himself as the wind kicked up; we were at the Quidditch pitch. The snow was falling already, thick and hard, and I felt a pang of concern for Fred and Al, both of whom would have to fly in this. No one who grew up playing Quidditch seemed to recognize what a really dangerous sport it was; the Potter clan seemed completely oblivious to it.

It'd been two class periods since Rose had walked out of the Green House, and I hadn't talked to her since. She had to figure out what was going on inside her head before I was willing to shuffle through it—I just wasn't up to running after her and her insanity, right now. Maybe after break, once I'd rested up, though I hoped to God she was over whatever-it-was by then.

"It's winter." I told him with narrowed eyes. "Tends to get cold." Liam flashed me a grin; he didn't care that I was being a brat. That was what being this close to Holiday break did to Hogwarts students. Suddenly, we were all happy and relaxed.

"Alright, you lot," Donovan Goyle's booming voice came over the stands as the last and latest of the students filed in; the crowd fell silent as the second-year announcer looked around. "Let's get this started, shall we?" There was a round of cheering, and I grinned, even as I eyed the pitch nervously; I could barely see the Slytherin side of the field through the snow. The boys had to fly in this. This was going to be one of those games that put my teeth on edge. "Flying for Slytherin: Graciano Corsi, Robert Preben, Theodora Wexley, Natalya Swann, Oberon Zabini, Brian Gallagher, Eleuthera Prince." Liam and I both snorted at the final name; sometimes the pureblooded families just stunned me with the way they named their children. Eleuthera? That was just child cruelty, naming your kid that. The Slytherins broke into cheers anyway, and I rolled my shoulders uncomfortably, waiting in complete silence on the Gryffindor side of the pitch as we glared at their players as they flew on.

"For Gryffindor," Donovan contiued, his voice flatter, now; he didn't give a damn about the Gryffindor team, but there was a collective air of excitement on the Gryffindor side of the pitch. "We have Duane Jordan, Fred Weasley, James Potter, Albus Potter, Lily Potter, (I sense a little bias, Professor!)" There was a roar of protest from the Gryffindor side of the pitch; the Potters just happened to be a Quidditch family. And any implication of favoritism towards the Potters because of their father did not make go over well with anyone who knew them. "Alright, alright, you lot, hush up—" There was a pause as a professor scolded Goyle, before he returned gruffly, "Finally, Serafina Finnigan and Grace McClellan." The red robes spilled onto the field and the entire Gryffindor portion of the crowd jumped to their feet, cheering loudly, even as the wind ripped through the pitch, making my hair fly around my face. "Everybody take your places, and Madame Wood will start the game in…three…two…one…and the balls have been released!"

The bludgers shot into the air with a low whistling sound, and the snitch shot into the air, while Madame Wood threw the quaffle into the air. Serafina Finnigan sprinted forward for it, but got knocked out of the way by a bludger that hit her side; she flipped on her broom, but she pressed a hand to her ribs as she swooped away.

Albus shot upwards, hovering above everyone, while James shot towards Sera and Fred took off towards the bludgers. Grace was already hollering—something along the lines of Goddammit, James, Sera's fine!—but it was impossible to hear her over the wind and the snow.

"This game is going to be impossible." I half-shouted to Liam, the only way to get him to hear me even though he was just beside me. He nodded, leaning over the railing, and I swallowed, grabbing the railing myself as a strong wind blew through, knocking the first year beside me into me. I didn't shoot her a dirty look, though; I recognized her as one of Cormac's friends. I spared them my wrath, mostly because I knew Cormac would throw a monster-sized fit if I didn't.

Fred smacked the bludger towards Natalya Swann, who dodged it and, swishing around, cut in front of Fred so quickly he had to drop ten feet in the air and lost sight of the bludger. Sera regained something akin to balance and took off after Grace McClellan and Lily Potter, while James hastened to catch up with Fred.

And the game had begun.

"How is Albus going to find the snitch?" Liam murmured in my ear, the only way we could hear each other; I pulled away from him, glancing up at him with a shake of my head. I had no idea. I couldn't see four feet in front of me. Finding a tiny golden snitch in this would be hellish. Liam and I watched the players scatter, and I kept an eye out for Albus, hoping for just a little glimpse of him, but he was long gone, the snow hiding him.

"FOUL ON WEASLEY!" Goyle hollered suddenly, two minutes later, and I squinted at the snow; really? I could see some red and green figures that had stopped moving, which usually meant arguing, in Quidditch. But I didn't see enough to figure out who was who, much less who had fouled who. "Gallagher is on the ground now—first disabled of the game, due to a bludger from Fred Weasel—oops, Weasley—" Heavy booing from the Gryffindor side met Goyle's words: what an original shot at Fred. Really. People had been making that joke since their parents were kids.

"Landau, in for Gallagher!" I heard team captain Robbie Preben shout, and there was a shuffle of green robes on the sideline, before Greg Landau kicked off, and replaced Gallagher. Then the game began again, people darting around once more.

"Where's Rose?" Liam asked me after a few minutes, turning to me with a frown. I looked up at Liam carefully, the words I'd said this morning to Rose echoing in my head: Liam was in fucking love with you. Liam had been in love with Rose. But she'd dumped him without a second thought, so he'd hated her. And now he had to treat Rose like a normal person. It made me feel bad for Liam—except I was the girl with no emotion. Sometimes I felt like grabbing Albus and Fred and shaking them—it was their fault that I was this way, suddenly feeling guilty or sympathetic or happy. I'd been stoic, before. Now it was like I was falling down a mountain or something, losing ground faster than I could ever hope to make it back.

"She's been mental all day," I told him, glancing up with a tight smile for a moment, then let it drop. "But you know how that works."

"I do." He agreed, the word sounding like a concession. "She barely shows for prefect rounds, and when she does, she get all offended when I ask her when she's been." He shrugged.

"She flipped on me this morning—like properly flipped." I told him after a moment, my voice quiet and careful. I wasn't usually in the business of talking about Rose behind her back, but something was going on with her. "She told me I'd practically cheated on Rory, with Albus. Which is false."

"You didn't cheat." He agreed after a moment, and my gaze snapped up to him; that sounded like only a partial agreement. "Molls, look—you…" he paused, seeming to reorganize his thoughts. "You didn't cheat." He repeated. "But you weren't exactly a great girlfriend."

"Liam—" I growled.

"No, Molly—hear me out." He said. "You were dating Rory. And you were—you kept Albus around." He looked down at me. "Albus has been pretty clear about his intentions and you didn't tell him to fuck off, even though you had a boyfriend. Not cheating—" He repeated, making clear that he was on his own side of this argument. "But something that wasn't great."

"Albus has no intentions…" I said, dragging out the word that sounded like something from health class, back when I'd gone to a muggle school and had something like health class.

"That would be false." Liam said firmly.

"We aren't having this conversation." I said firmly.

"Alright, you want to do this?" Liam demanded, looking to me irritably. "One, he's crazy protective. About everything. Two, he flipped a shit when you started dating Rory—he was jealous, Molly, get with the game plan—" I smacked Liam's arm for that, and he glared at me, "and when you dumped Rory for him—which, by the way, yes, you did, before you go down that path—"

"No I didn't dump Rory for Albus!" I hissed at him, grabbing his arm. "I'm fucking tired of everyone saying that—I dumped Rory because he didn't know me if—"

"You chose him." Liam interrupted, shaking his head as he negated my entire argument. "What do you think that translates to, for Albus? That you thought he was a really awesome friend and you wanted to be best friends forever and braid each other's hair and paint each other's nails?" Liam looked down at me seriously, his eyebrows drawn together. "You're not stupid, Molly. Stop acting like it."

"10 points for Gryffindor," Donovan said suddenly in a grim voice; Gryffindors broke out cheering, despite the fact that no one saw what had just happened, but I just frowned up at Liam. "And it looks like Sera Finnigan's out with an injury, making her the second disabled player this game—"I glanced out through the snow, making sure that Sera hadn't gone spiraling to the ground or anything—she hadn't—before I glared down at the railing in front of me. "Nelly Vane in for Sera Finnigan, with James Potter rotating out as well—following your girlfriend, Potter? Rory Corner replaces James Potter and the game resumes."

I glanced up through the snow, still hoping for a glimpse of Albus as I considered what Liam had said. I was really fighting with Liam for the fight's sake, rather than actual conflict of belief. I knew Albus didn't want to be my best friend. I was just trying to figure out what I wanted, still. I wasn't sure—and part of me wouldn't let myself decide. Because I didn't have so much to lose, anymore, that letting myself want Albus, and then losing him, would be alright.

But Albus was pretty adamant about sticking to me. He'd made that more than clear.

"Rory told me Albus fancies me." I said softly.

"Rory's a smart bloke." Liam agreed.

"He's the one who accused me of—"

"Cheating, cheating, yes, I know, bad Rory." Liam said obediently. "He probably just drew that from you spending every spare second with a certain roommate of mine…and from Rose's constant prattling." Liam shook his head as I glanced sharply up at him.

"What constant prattling?" I demanded, my eyes narrowed.

"She's been talking about you and Albus since September." Liam said. "Even to Rory. Which seemed tactless, but she's Rose, you know?" He smirked. "It's not that she lacks tact. It's that she refuses to use it."

"Rose talked about me and Albus to Rory when we were dating?" I asked in a low voice.

"Indeed." Liam said, glancing down at me.

I felt an odd feeling creep up my spine. Rory had accused me of cheating, which at the time, had seemed beyond rude. But if he'd heard from my best friend that I had something going on with her cousin—who would he be to argue with that? My best friend should have been as good a source as anyone. But Rose had to know that talking about me and a boy in front of my boyfriend would be bad. And she wouldn't have done that. She was my best friend.

Except that this felt like the millionth thing I'd had to excuse her for because of our friendship.

"Natalya Swann has spotted the snitch!" Donovan Goyle's voice slammed over the stadium, shaking me from my thoughts of Rose and Rory. The moment the meaning of the words hit me, I felt dread seize me as I leaned forward, searching the pitch. Where was Al? He couldn't lose another game to Natalya, it'd crush him.

Please, please, please, I murmured as I tried my hardest to spot Albus in the array of players in the swirling snow. Suddenly, there was a glimmer of gold and a high pitched buzzing—the snitch was two feet from my face, and a half second later, Natalya and Albus, even with each other, zipped after the snitch, their robes flapping and snapping as they both went faster than their brooms were meant to take them.

"Swann and Potter are shoulder-to-shoulder after the snitch—" Donovan exclaimed, "I have never seen someone go so fast on a Comet 7950—Merlin's beard—" I held my breath. Please. Please. Albus could get that snitch. I knew he could. "Swann gains the lead—and Potter snatches it back. Just ten feet behind that snitch—now eight! Six!" The crowd was silent as we all waited with baited breath; Albus had to get that snitch.

I could see the green and the red, and Albus's distinctive black hair was also visible now that he was down to my eyelevel. They sped around the pitch—please, please, please I thought the word with every ounce of my being—before Natalya and Albus both wobbled, and then Albus leapt forward. Both of them skidded to a stop, and the wind kicked up for a moment before it died down, and through the momentary silence, I could hear Natalya cursing.

"Gryffindor WON!" Donovan Goyle exclaimed angrily, and the stands around me roared as everyone jumped to their feet, including me. I couldn't help the massive grin that split my face as I whooped, while Liam shouted beside me.

Finally, I got something good.

Half an hour later, the Gryffindor team came into the Common Room to a loud cheer—people were ecstatic. This was a good day; classes were over for two weeks, we had the dance tonight, and Gryffindor had won the game. Sera, her broken ribs wrapped and healed by Madame Pomfrey (Gallagher's bludger had done some damage), was sitting beside me on the couch, but she was curled up beside James, who had a protective arm around her as he glared down at the coffee table. Both of them had come down early because they'd left from the pitch for the Hospital Wing, then just come back to the Common Room.

The second the team came in, I bounced to my feet, my head spinning still with the win. I could tell from the faces of the team that they were still pretty proud of themselves. I scanned the red robes for Albus, and when I saw him, a second wave of elation, topping the one I'd felt when he'd won, hit me; ignoring my better judgment, I covered the space between us, hugging him tightly. He laughed, sounding happier than I had heard him in weeks as he caught me.

"You caught the snitch!" I said in a whisper so excited I was practically hoarse, grinning up at him. My gaze locked on his, my grin taking over my face, and he grinned down at me, his eyes brighter than I'd seen them in some time—he was proud of himself. He should be. He'd done great out there.

"I caught the snitch." He echoed, grinning down at me. "I. Caught. The. Snitch." He looked up on the last word, around to the rest of the Common Room, and since the butter beer had already made an appearance, there was a hearty cheer. I felt laughter spill out of me accidentally, ducking my head against Albus's chest, my forehead touching his robes, and let the happiness fill me. Albus ran a hand through my hair, and I exhaled sharply at how nice that felt.

"A toast!" Fred Weasley called out; I glanced up as Fred, butter beer already in hand, lifted it, clapping his cousin on the back with the other hand. His butter beer swished but didn't spill. "To this good man," Fred began, and Al laughed, one arm dropping from my waist as he hooked it around Fred's shoulders, I grinned, leaning against Al, "Who saved the Gryffindor qudditch team from a pathetic defeat by the Slytherins," Cheers broke out at this (the butter beer had definitely made an appearance) and Al glanced down at me; I laughed softly—I was too happy. This was too good. I knew it couldn't last—I knew that tomorrow morning I would get up, get a room at the Leakey Cauldron, and be pretty much alone for the next two weeks. But I couldn't let this go to grasp that.

Fred stopped toasting Albus as Rory passed him; Fred leapt on him, congratulating him with a grin as Rory laughed, staggering against the tackle. "Nice job," James Potter said quietly to his brother with a tight smile from the couch, which AL and I were standing a few feet from; that was the most that Albus could hope for from James, and I felt Al straighten up. Even if it wasn't much, Al liked to know his brother thought he'd done well.

Albus's arm dropped from my waist, but his hand found mine, his fingers twining in mine as he pulled behind him, around the couch. I glanced up at him, but he didn't say anything, and I looked down at our hands. "Ser, you okay?" Albus asked, pulling me beside him.

"Yeah—I apparently broke three ribs." Sera said sheepishly. Albus winced in sympathy, and I frowned at Sera.

"Are you still able to go to the dance?" I asked after a second.

"Oh, I've had worse." Sera said easily, brushing the thought off; James bristled beside her, dropping his forehead to her shoulder. Sera ran a hand down his arm. "Jamesie just doesn't like it much, when I get hurt. A little protective, this one." She rolled her eyes, smiling in spite of herself, before her gaze landed on me. "You know about that, though."

I raised my eyebrows, but Albus chuckled. "She does." Albus agreed, and I pushed some of my hair out of my face, nodding once. I did, despite the fact that I didn't know what to think of the comparison between Sera and myself. Sera was James Potter's girlfriend—I was not Albus Potter's girlfriend.

I found myself playing along, though, after a moment. "He flipped on me just last weekend because I scraped my arm," I said, smiling a little at Sera, who brightened; I never engaged with her, the fact that I'd bothered to respond probably meant something to her cheerful self. The thing was, as sunny as Sera was, she required a lot of upkeep. She needed the people around her to be nice for her to keep functioning. I might have had less fun in the meantime, but when bad stuff did happen, I was strong enough to handle it.

"Al, that's adorable." Sera said with a grin, and Albus shot me a look; I hadn't just gotten a scrape, the look seemed to say. But I smirked up at him, turning to put a hand on his chest, and his hand left my other hand so he could slip his arm around my waist, pulling me against him. I looked up at him, once again wondering what the hell we were playing at.

"I'm not that bad…" James grumbled, forcing my gaze to flick to him.

"You rotated out of the Quidditch game when Sera got hurt." I pointed out, and he glared at me as Sera and Albus laughed. I turned my smirk onto him, and he looked away after just a moment, rolling his eyes.

"Albus didn't catch the snitch last game against Slytherin because you were snogging your boyfriend." James muttered back. Albus, beside me, stiffened, and I swallowed as the perfect feeling that had been swirling around us ebbed away. I hated James for a second—how dare he make things awkward when Albus had done so freaking well out there. When I was so comfortable, Al's arm around my waist.

"Oh, takes a big man to tear down his little brother for making a mistake." I murmured, my eyes narrowed. James held my gaze for a moment, his brown eyes flashing for a second as he regarded me.

"That was more of a shot at you." He said after a moment.

"James, stop." Albus murmured to his brother.

"You took a shot at me for dating a friend of yours?" I asked James. "What are you going to do to Rose?"

"I took a shot at you because when you dated one of my friends, you screwed over my little brother." James said shortly. Something Albus snapped at that.

"Stop it." Albus hissed at James, his arm dropping from around my waist as he took a step towards his brother; James leaned forward in his seat, his eyebrows raised in a challenge to his little brother. "It's one thing to say something to me, I don't give a damn about that." Albus growled; James seemed put-off by the fact that Albus hadn't immediately backed down after the first warning. "But stay the fuck away from Molly." He growled. James didn't respond, and Albus glared. Finally, James raised his eyebrows, but nodded once. Albus turned away from us and cut behind me, shoving his way back into the crowd. I inhaled shortly, turning back to James.

"You're an asshole." I told him shortly.

"You are too." He retorted, unbothered by my words.

"James." Sera said, sounding shocked as she straightened up, then she winced, pressing a hand to her ribs. "You're being ridiculous—"

"No, Sera, it's fine." I murmured. "He's not wrong." I turned to James. "I may be a bitch, or an asshole, or whatever I'm getting called this week, but I only get this way when someone attacks me or mine." I flickered a small smile at him, but it was ice cold. "And tonight, Albus did something really amazing, and all he got from his big brother was a "good job" before you went on to take shots and him and me." I raised my eyebrows. "Who do you think is worse?" James frowned at me, but said nothing, so I turned away from him, walking into the crowd to find Albus.

I slipped past several kids, including Fred who was talking to a fourth year girl who looked thoroughly frightened of me, but he slung his arm around my shoulders and grinned at me despite her presence. "Miss Molly—where are you going?" He asked me.

"Going to find Albus." I said with a tight smile to him. "James is in fine form tonight." The words, sarcastic and angry, bit out of me before I could stop them; Fred's grin faded a little.

"Need help?" He asked. I shook my head.

"Thanks." I said, shrugging a little. "I handled it."

"Of course you did." Fred said, chuckling. "James is in one piece?" He checked.

"Only because Sera was there and I feel like Voldemort every time I do something mean in front of her." I admitted. Fred laughed, and I rolled my eyes, pulling away with a brief glare for the fourth-year. I pushed through the crowd for another few minutes, ignoring people as I tried to find Albus; finally, I concluded Albus was not still in the Common Room. I pushed through one of the doors that went to an abandoned hallway in Gryffindor tower, jogging down the stairs to where I had a hunch Albus would be.

I stepped off the final step, spotting Albus leaning against a window sill; I crossed to him, stopping in front of him. Albus glanced up at me, his gaze dark. "Your brother is an asshole." I told him after a moment. "You played incredibly out there."

"He's just mad 'cause Sera got hurt." Al murmured, his gaze sliding down to the floor, away from me and the truth I spoke. "He's always like that when she's hurt." He said softly. I stayed silent, letting him drag his own gaze back up to meet mine; I saw the anguish on his face, and it made my stomach hurt. "That used to confuse me—especially because when there was the whole ordeal with her grandmother, Sera got hurt all the time. The year before I started Hogwarts, she was always getting hurt and James would just storm around in the worst mood. And I thought, why wouldn't he get used to it?" He smiled weakly, as if asking for forgiveness. "I get it, now." He murmured. There was a pause. "Molly, you didn't argue with what Rose said this morning." His voice was soft.

"I did too—" I began crossly.

"No, not the—not the mean part. Not the hypocrisy part—you argued with that." Albus said, his voice still soft—he sounded sad. Or maybe worried. It made me nervous. "You didn't argue that you practically cheated on Rory. She listed twelve million examples—you dumping him because he wanted you to stop…stop talking to me, being the chief one." He paused, staring at me, and I bit my lip, crossing my arms over my chest as if that could stop us from going down the road that Albus was dragging me down, here. "You didn't argue that you did all of that." Albus fell silent for a moment, leaving space for me to protest what he was saying; I couldn't or maybe just didn't. "Which stands to reason, it's true. You meant to choose me. You meant to ditch Rory. But you still dated him." Albus left room for argument again, and I didn't. "What are you doing, Molly?" His voice was slow and soft. "I'm tired of playing this game. I can't stand to see you hurt, I can't stand to see you with another guy—not even Mikey, and Merlin knows he gave you up in a heartbeat when I told him to piss off." I winced, lifting a hand to push my hair out of my face. "You know where I stand." His gaze didn't move from my face. "Where do you stand?"

I felt my stomach plunge. I had choices here. Albus was giving me the perfect out. The same way that Rory had given me the perfect out, two months ago, when he'd asked me to choose. I could have chosen no one and walked away, then. But I chose Albus. I'd wanted him then.

And I wanted him now.

I reached out, grabbed Al's hand, and pulled him up, forcing him to stand independent of the wall, and then I stood on tip-toe, slipping an arm around his neck and pulling his head down to mine, covering his lips with mine. I felt an explosion somewhere in my brain, and I felt my heartbeat triple, and I forced myself to pull away after only a moment. I look up at him, taking a shaky breath. "I stand with you." I said after a moment, and then I let my arm slip from around his neck, backing up a step. Albus was watching me with a kind of delighted shock. His lips had curled into a small smile, his eyes wide, and I bit my lip, then turned away from him. I walked to the stairs, then let myself speed up, until I was taking them three at a time. I tore through the Common Room to the girls' dormitory staircase, then took those up three at a time again, and I didn't stop until I got to the fifth-year girls' dorms. I slipped into my empty dormitory and shut the door behind me, before I turned and pressed my back to the door, my head spinning.

I'd kissed Albus Potter.

Three hours later, my hair carefully curled and pulled back from my face, my make-up freshly done and preserved with a clever charm from Witch Weekly, my high heels making me hugely unstable, I stepped into the Common Room. The dance had started an hour ago, and the Common Room was mostly empty; the boys had stayed late at the party that was in their honor, and then taken extra time getting ready. I'd been hiding in the dormitory since I'd kissed Albus, hoping for a letter from Nate or something to distract me. But no word from my family, and I'd been left alone with my thoughts about Albus.

I straightened as I saw Albus leaning beside the wall beside the portrait hole, but I let my arms swing at my sides; I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing I was now nervous. He grinned at me all the same, though, straightening up himself; he was in very nice dress robes, ones that were black and not too feminine, though I had to admit, dress robes made even the most handsome look sort of ridiculous.

"Hey." Albus said as I walked up.

"Hey." I echoed, stopping about a foot from him, my gaze meeting his fearlessly.

"You look amazing." He told me with a smirk.

"Thanks," I said carefully.

"So." Albus said after a second, his grin returning full force. I winced in preparation for what he was about to say; I knew he was about to go to what had happened that afternoon. "You kissed me." Knew it. I glared up at Albus.

"That makes it sound like I took advantage of you." I muttered, my eyes narrowing still further.

"I mean, you did." Albus said, still grinning. "I asked you a question. And you kissed me." HE paused. "And then answered it. Stands to reason that maybe I just—" I dropped my gaze from Albus, beginning to pass him, and his hand shot out, grabbing mine. I glanced up at him sharply as he pulled me back towards him gently; I let him. "Hey, I'm kidding." Al said lightly to me.

"Good." I muttered, working my jaw. I stared up at Albus, my blue gaze boring into his green one, and I sighed, letting myself relax a little; Albus's arm slipped around my waist as he pulled me against him, and I felt a small smile work its way onto my face against my will.

"Calm down." Albus murmured to me, lifting a hand to push a few stray hairs out of my face; I was surprised by the tenderness of the gesture. "This is just a dance. It won't eat you."

"You don't know that," I murmured after a moment.

"I do." Albus assured me. "Fred went down a while ago and then came back up to tell me to hurry. He came and went and wasn't eaten."

"Hmm…." I smiled at Albus. "I suppose we should go then. If I won't get eaten and Fred is down there…"

"I mean, yes." Albus paused. "And you're going as my date. Just clarifying that." His words were awkward and mistimed and adorable, in a way that I would not have tolerated from anyone else.

"You're going as my boyfriend." I said, my voice lightly mocking, but there was a light question in the words; I was not a girl who kissed guys and then ran away. I needed to make sure Al knew this was not a one-night thing. "Just clarifying that." Al grinned, and I rose on tip-toe to kiss him lightly before I pulled away, grabbing his hand and pulling him out the portrait hole.

A minute later, we turned onto the hallway of the Great Hall. There were a few kids standing in front of the huge archway, but one girl specifically caught my eye; Celia Goyle, in a dark red dress with a black clutch in her hands, was standing in front of it nervously.

"Did they ever nail you for turning her into scale-girl?" I asked Albus in a murmur, and he grinned, shaking his head. I chuckled as we approached, and Celia caught sight of us. Her eyes narrowed angrily at Albus for a moment before she looked at me, her gaze serious, but, for once, not angry.

"Molly." She said lowly as she approached us in front of the archway, then glanced at Albus. "Pothead." Albus, looking unimpressed, nodded to her. She looked at our hands. "Oh, the tabloids are true, you two are together…"

"Fuck off, Celia." I murmured.

"I wanted to talk to you about that, Molls." She said with a sarcastic tone and smile. She dropped both when she glanced with a glare to Albus. "Privately."

I eyed Celia; she didn't look particularly angry at me, though there was a flash of something in her eyes. I decided to take my chances. "Go inside." I told Albus after a moment. "Go find Fred and Maia—I'll be inside in a sec." I told him. I saw a brief look of confusion, but Al released my hand reluctantly, passing Celia with an irritated expression as he walked into the Great Hall.

"What do you want?" I said to Celia. She stepped forward, opening her clutch and pulling out an envelope, holding it out to me. I took it from her, looking at it for a moment, then looked back to her.

"Read it." She urged.

"What is it?" I asked.

"A letter." She drawled. "I realize that the girl whose family kicked her out might not get letters, but I assumed you'd at least be able to recognize one…"

"Tell me what this is or I'm throwing it out and going into the dance." I said firmly. "I'm not in the mood for this right now. I'm having my first good day in like four months." Celia watched me for a moment.

"I'm about to ruin that." She admitted, nodding to the letter. "That's the most recent letter from the source—who is NOT me—to Rita Skeeter. You need to read it." I frowned at her, before I turned the envelope over in my hands and opened it; it was sealed tightly. I pulled out the paper inside, unfolding it. I didn't even get through reading the date before I felt a dizzy feeling swamp me as I recognized the handwriting. Dear Rita, the letter began, her hand writing as familiar to me as my own. I skimmed the letter anyway, phrases standing out to me. Her dad meant to hurt her, this time…her little brother had to patch her up… she broke her wand. I felt sick to my stomach as I got to the signature at the end of the letter.

Sincerely, Rose Weasley

To be continued…

A/N: Do you hate me? I know you do. Don't worry, part 2 will be up in a few days. Keep in mind though...more reviews=less time between postings. :) Don't worry, though, I won't actually ration my chapters until you guys review. I just really like reviews.

Also, Molly's dress and Rose's dress are on my profile.

To my lovely, lovely, lovely, reviewers, who are all incredibly loyal:

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