Chapter Twenty-One: Inter-House Friendships

Our study group met every school night after that for the next few months, working out essay outlines and study guides for each class. After the first few weeks I started bringing my cauldron with me so we could redo the potions from class. Between the eight of us, we could master any assignment, and our grades were steadily improving. Although I wasn't sure Snape either noticed or cared – he was pleasant to the Slytherins and hostile to the Gryffindors as always – I caught Vector giving us piercing looks, and more than once I met Fawcett's eyes only to see her grin. "Think she wanted this or something?" I asked Lyra as we left her classroom one November morning.

"Wanted what?"

"You know, the study parties. The House unity or something."

Lyra snuck a look back over her shoulder. "I don't know. Maybe. How would she know, though? I mean, it's not like we all hang out outside of studying. It's just by Houses and us."

"Marissa and Cameron and Evan and I are together a lot," I pointed out.

"Yeah, but you were before that. Maybe she's just happy that you're well-adjusted and normal or something. Or maybe she's watching out for you for your parents."

"Right. Because my parents would totally tell someone about me now, and Fawcett would totally just pretend it's not happening but watch me sneakily." My voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Well, why not?" Lyra asked.

"I don't even think she knows my parents," I protested.

"Isn't she legally obligated to tell the headmistress if your parents are mistreating you?" Cameron interrupted, slinging an arm around my shoulders. "Otherwise she could be sacked."

"They're not mistreating me," I protested. "They never see me."

"Exactly," Lyra said. "They're ignoring you and not supporting you. You had to work and buy all your stuff for this year and get yourself a place to stay and everything. That's…" she trailed off.

"Neglect," Cameron filled in. "The government would have to step in."

I frowned. "But I wouldn't need them. I've got it worked out. And Snape almost likes me now. I can see it in his eyes."

"All you can see in Snape's eyes is intense dislike," Lyra countered. "Thinly masked dislike."

"That's only 'cause you're a Gryffindork," Cameron told her. "He likes us."

"I am not a dork!"

"Sure you are," he said, grinning. "Look it up, your picture's right there next to the definition."

"And yours is right next to annoying!"

"…Was that your idea of a comeback, Wood? 'Cause that just sucks."

Lyra shot him a death glare, and Cameron grinned and sauntered off.

"Ooh," Lyra muttered, "I'm going to hex him…"

"You and Marissa should start a club," I suggested. "Girls Against Cameron."

"At least we'd get a ton of members. I bet we'd even have more than the Gobstones club" – the Gobstones club was the biggest club at school – "there've got to be more girls who hate him than who like Gobstones."

"I doubt it," I replied. "I mean, most people outside of Slytherin or older than us or whatever, they wouldn't know who he is. Maybe when we're seventh years or something, but then probably all the girls will be in love with him."

Lyra's face contorted into a grimace. "That's disgusting."

"Why?"

"There are so many guys who'd be better to fall for!" she cried. "I mean, just look around. So many prettier people."

I looked around. "The guys all seem the same, actually."

"Really?" she asked. "You don't see, like, one you would want to go out with or anything?"

I shook my head. "They all look the same," I repeated.

"Huh," Lyra replied. As we walked toward the Great Hall, I kept my gaze moving critically over the crowds of boys; none stood out, at least not in a snoggable kind of way.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Just before Christmas break, Alicia and I were walking out of the Slytherin dungeons when she grabbed my arm. "Do you hear that?" she hissed.

I listened hard; I could hear a loud, shrill voice ahead of us. As we got closer I started to distinguish the words: "What do you think you're doing down here? This is Slytherin territory. We don't want other people down here spying on us, trying to figure out—"

Then another voice, quieter, younger: "I'm not spying." Alicia and I exchanged a glance and peeked around a corner; facing us was Alyssa Jennings, a fourth-year Slytherin, with one hand on her hip, pointing her wand at a smaller girl whose back was toward us.

"What's going on?" Alicia mouthed at me. "Should we do something?"

I shrugged, craning my neck to see more clearly. It was an unwritten rule that one simply did not meddle in the affairs of other Slytherins unless one was directly involved. "Then why are you in our dudgeons?" Alyssa demanded, pointing her wand at the younger girl's throat. "I can't think of any decent reasons for you to be here."

"I'm not doing anything," the girl repeated, and this time, her voice quivered as she spoke.

"Oh, no?" Alyssa replied, stepping forward. "Then what are you doing here?"

"Nothing!" she insisted, stumbling backwards. "I'm not doing anything!"

I could hear footsteps behind me; whirling around, I saw Evan approaching. Seeing the two of us against the wall, he moved to the side of the corridor and walked more quietly. "What's going on?" he muttered in my ear when he'd finally reached us.

"I don't know," I whispered back. I was about to elaborate when he stepped forward, pulling the younger girl behind him and turning to face Alyssa.

"What's going on?" he asked her. His voice was pleasant, but I could tell that he was worried; he was gripping his wand tightly in his hand, and his other hand was clenched into a fist.

"This Hufflepuff's been spying on us," Alyssa explained.

"I am not spying!" the girl in question cried. Her voice was strong again; I thought that Evan's obvious protection was giving her confidence.

"There's no other good reason for her to be here," Alyssa said to Evan. "Why else would a Hufflepuff come down into our territory?"

Evan shrugged. "She's just a first year. Leave her alone, Jennings, I'll walk her upstairs." He offered an arm to the girl, who took it gingerly. When they turned, walking past us down the corridor, I recognized her: Loretta Williamson, the kid whose parents had been killed by Evan's mother and father.

"Is that…?" Alicia whispered, staring after them.

I nodded. "Yeah, that's her."

"What do you think he's trying to do?" she asked, watching their retreating backs curiously.

"I don't know," I told her, "but I'm going to ask him about it."

But Evan was almost never in the common room for the next few weeks. In fact, it was almost impossible to catch him alone: he came to our study groups just after the first wave of people, and then left before I could talk to him; he only passed through the common room at night instead of staying and chatting or arguing. Even at meals and in classes, where it was normally easy to yank him aside, he was evasive. I finally cornered him the night before Christmas break, as he dashed through the common room on his way to his room. I got between him and the doorway to the boys' dorms, and held up a hand. "Halt!" I commanded.

"Hi, Lydia," he replied. "Help you with something?"

"Let's take a walk," I said cheerfully.

"You're aware it's past curfew, right?" he asked, looking at me like I was crazy. "Snape actually does take off points for wandering around at night, you know."

"Only if he has to," I said with a shrug, "and he likes me now, 'cause my potions rock. We're walking." He shrugged and followed me as I grabbed his arm and pulled him out the door and down the cold stone hallway of the dungeon. "Evan," I finally started, "are you… this Loretta person… you two…" I trailed off.

"I've just been helping her out with her work," he replied quietly. "That's all."

"Doesn't she…" I hesitated, trying to find the right words – the last thing I wanted to do was to offend him – "isn't it awkward, with, you know, all the… history?"

"You mean how my parents killed her parents?" he asked wryly, looking sideways at me.

"Yeah," I replied. "That part. Doesn't it make things… you know, hard?"

Evan shrugged. "It's weird, I guess, but I kind of feel like… Lydia, it's our parents who fucked up the world, right? Our parents and their parents. So it's like it's up to me to make sure she's okay, you know? Because it's my parents who made her not okay, who screwed everything up for her."

I looked over at him. "You know it's not your fault, right? You were just a baby when it happened. You're not at fault for what your parents did."

"But it's not her fault, either," he replied softly. "It doesn't matter whose fault it is, because we've got to deal with it either way. I mean, it's not your fault your parents won't talk to you, is it? But you've still got to deal with it; they don't have to deal with it, really. It's your life they've fucked up, so you've got to fix it."

I nodded. "Is she okay with it?"

"I think so. She was happy that I got her away from Alyssa, at least. And we've been meeting in the library, nights. I've been helping her with her work."

I looked over at him. "Bring her to study group, Evan. We can all help her. And that way she'll have, you know, more older friends."

"You don't think people will mind?" he asked.

"Why would they?" I asked. "It's first-year work, we can totally help her with that. And we're not just Slytherins, so she shouldn't be scared or anything."

"I'll bring her over," he said. "After break, anyway." He checked his wristwatch, and groaned. "Which reminds me, I'm not done packing. We should get back to the dorms, anyway, before Filch comes and puts us in detention."

"Right," I replied, following him back to the common room, where traditional the end-of-term party was in full swing. Music was playing loudly – the Raging Goblins were singing at top volume over the Wizard Wireless – and a large group of older boys had gathered around the punch bowl, which I knew had probably been spiked. I grinned at Evan and made my way through the thronging, dancing crowd of students to the table with the crystal punch bowl. I grabbed a goblet and filled it, grinning at Sarah Portsmouth, who had appeared by my elbow.

"Aren't you too young to be drinking?" she yelled over the din.

"Nope!" I yelled back, gulping the burning liquid down.

She laughed, raising her own goblet in a toast. "Ready for your break?" she asked, as we clinked glasses.

"Yes!" I shouted, grinning. And I was ready for a vacation; it had been a very, very long fall term, and I needed some time to recharge. I felt like I hadn't had a decent night's sleep in a very long time: between staying up late to finish the work that was actually due for classes, staying up to finish my extra potions work or the Defense work for Zach, and staying up just for the late-night conversations in the common room, I never seemed to get a full eight hours of sleep. With that in mind, I poured myself another glass of punch and moved back through the dancing crowd, making sure to wish my friends a happy break – it seemed like everyone else was going home – and headed slowly toward the black marble staircase and my room and bed.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A/N: Woot, I am back! And I still don't own the Potterverse (shocking, yes?). Reviews/feedback would be especially appreciated on this chapter, because my betas are sort of overwhelmed, between college and leaving the country and such, and so only Ambika-san was able to edit this for me (and so many, many thanks to her).