A/N: anyone hear Katy Perry's new single California Gurls? Urgh, she's representing all us Cali Girls, and she makes us look like total slutbags -_- I know it's hard to believe, but try to believe that we're not all like that (; Dear Santa, I'd like someone else to represent me, please. Don't get me wrong, I love the song... but still, Katy Perry? Gosh.

ASH123, in response to your review about the pictures: Yeah, I've been thinking about getting pictures of them for a long time, but I can't find any celebrities that look even remotely like Vanessa or Ashley... or Aiden. I've been trying to do a banner for this fic, too, but like I said, I can't find anyone that look like them. So I would actually draw them out, but my artistic skills are terrible. My friend is really good at drawing, though, but I don't want to ask her to draw for me because it's a lot of work for her.

Disclaimer: you can travel the world, but nothing comes close to the Golden Coast. Once you party with us, you'll be falling in love. CALIFORNIA GIRLS we're unforgettable! Daisy dukes, bikinis on top, sun-kissed skin so hot we'll melt your popsicle (;

Chapter 21-Three Weeks, Six Days, Nine Hours, and Thirty-Seven Minutes

Harry and I spent exactly three weeks six days nine hours and thirty seven minutes at 4 Privet Drive. How did I know this? Well between the Dursley's complete mortification that they had two almost fully trained witches/wizards in the house and Harry spending hours locked up in his room, I had a lot of spare time on my hands. That was good, because I had lots to think about too.

I did my thinking all over the place—in bed, on the crapper, sitting on the floor waiting for Harry to remember that he didn't have the room all to himself.

Sharing a room with Harry has become a routine torture. You would not know what I mean unless you've had to store all your belongings in the same area as a fifteen-going-on-sixteen year old boy that's had a sudden obsession with cleaning his stuff and throwing yours all over the place. I've found a pair of bras stuffed between the bed and the nightstand; my wand carelessly thrown into a closet full of Uncle Vernon's molding suits; a pair of knickers living with dust bunnies under my bed; the wailing bracelet Ashley had given to me for Christmas that I had started to wear again—after I had Hermione put a Silencing Charm on it—mixed in with Harry's dirty underwear. I now clung onto the Malfoy necklace Draco had given me for fear that if I ever let it out of my sight, I'd find it wrapped up in one of Harry's yellowing socks.

I spent most of my free time thinking and daydreaming. For the first couple of days, I toyed with the idea of Ashley still being alive and fighting desperately to free herself from the clutches of the evil Death Eaters. I'd dream about Apparating to her—though I didn't know how—and assisting her and perhaps punch the scumbag Moore in the face while I was at it. I strictly forbid myself from thinking of Draco, and it worked for a while. I certainly had other things to stress about. Somewhere around the middle of July, though, the recurring dreams started. It was always the same, lame scene. Draco would arrive on the back of a handsome white steed, declare his everlasting love for me, and whisk me away to some foreign land where we could have our happily ever after.

It was pathetic. And yet I waited all day for these dreams. My subconscious remembered every detail of his face, from the dark flecks in his grey eyes to the single freckle on the side of his nose.

Somewhere around the three week mark, I was sitting at the breakfast table brooding about the apocalypse when there was a great screech and the hulking figure out Uncle Vernon stood, staring out the window.

"OWLS!" he bellowed, his mustache quivering. "Out in broad daylight! What do you think you're playing at?"

As Uncle Vernon leaned down to fix a beady eye on us, Harry and I caught a glimpse of the two bran owls flying across Privet Drive. One of them began to tap at the kitchen window. Aunt Petunia leapt up, gave a terrified shriek, and bolted out of the kitchen, Dudley in tow.

"The O.W.L results must be here!" Harry exclaimed, jumping up and unbolting the lock on the window. The larger of the two birds flew over to me and stuck out its leg.

"O.W.L.s?" said Uncle Vernon. "What are O.W.L's?"

"They're a type of nocturnal bird," I said patiently, unfastening the envelope from the owl's leg, "that usually prey on small rodents and—"

Harry said, "Ordinary Wizarding Exams."

"Exams?" said Uncle Vernon incredulously. "What does your kind have to take exams for? How to Become A Hazard to Society 101?" He chortled heartily at his own joke.

Harry and I glanced at each other and rolled our eyes. I looked back down at my exam results and a sudden inspiration hit me.

"Oh no!" I cried dramatically. "I only got an E in Masturbation! I practiced all term for it too! Oh but it's okay, I got an Outsanding in Lap Dancing. I think the judge was really impressed by me."

Harry stifled a snort of laughter and, deciding to play along, feigned anger. "I've failed my cross dressing exams! Ness, this is all your fault. I told you that I shouldn't have worn that red dress! It clashes horribly with my eyes!"

I stumbled out of the kitchen, faking a stomach ache to as an excuse as to why I was bent double with silent laughter. Harry stayed behind for a few seconds, explaining to a blotchy-faced Uncle Vernon that it was a joke and not to be taken seriously.

Upstairs, I opened my test results again and really looked at it.

Vanessa Rose Potter has achieved:

Astronomy: E
Care of Magical Creatures: A
Charms: O
Defense Against the Dark Arts:O
Arithmancy: A
Herbology: P
History of Magic: E
Potions: E
Transfiguration: E

I set the papers down, feeling quite satisfied with myself. I had gotten an Outstanding in both Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms, and even gotten a reasonably good grade in Potions and Transfiguration. I really hadn't expected to pass Herbology, so it didn't faze me too much. After all, it wasn't like I was planning to become a Herbologist, or anything so it was all right. I was slightly disappointed in my Arthimancy grade, as I had stayed up all night studying for it, but it honestly wasn't my strong spot so...

My reverie was interrupted by a light tap on the window. I recognized the owl as Blaise's family's and opened the window to let him in. Inside the envelope was a copy of Blaise's O.W.L results and a long letter agonizing about it.

Blaise Zabini has achieved:

Astronomy: A
Care of Magical Creatures: P
Charms: A
Defense Against the Dark Arts: E
Arithmancy: O
Herbology: E
History of Magic: P
Potions: O
Transfiguration: E

I actually laughed out loud when I saw his grades. His failing of Care of Magical Creatures really didn't surprise me, given that he had lost his temper with the bowtruckle he was supposed to be handling, and infuriated his fire crab by accidentally poking his wand in its eyes repeatedly. And failing History of Magic... well, he did fall asleep at the table during every lesson.

I skimmed through his letter, rolling my eyes at his gloating (And of course, I received an Outstanding in Potions. Obviously, the examiner was stunned by my talent and drop-dead gorgeous looks.), and giggling at his attempts to excuse his failed subjects. In the postscript, he asked me to stay over the summer. With a pang, I realized we were both remembered Draco.

I grabbed a roll of parchment out of Harry's carefully organized trunk and pilfered a quill and a bottle of ink. I chewed on the end for a second, wondering how I was going to get Blaise a copy of my own examination results. Obviously, a Copy Charm would be out of the question, as the Ministry would be knocking down the door before I could utter the incantation. (Damn the underage wizardry law.) I considered using the copy-machine in Uncle Vernon's study, but decided I wasn't in the mood to argue with him. I shrugged and just stuck the parchment into the envelope, wrote a quick explanation that I couldn't stay over because Harry and I were going over to the Burrow in a week's time, and bid goodbye to Midas, the Zabini owl.

Harry and I gave our stony faced relatives a tentative wave as Lupin and Kingsley arrived to take us to the Burrow by means of Side-Along Apparation a week later.

"Harry!" Ginny exclaimed, then with equal enthusiasm, "Nessie!"

As I reached over to give Ginny a hug, I saw something over her shoulder that gave me the biggest shock of mylife—Blaise Zabini, sitting in the middle of the Weasleys' kitchen as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Blaise!" I yelped. "What the hell are you doing here?" I glanced at Mrs. Weasley apologetically. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Weasley, I didn't ask him to be here—"

"Oh it's quite all right, dear," said Mrs. Weasley fondly, patting Blaise on the shoulder. Blaise smirked, and I could swear my eyes were about to bug out of my head. "Blaise wrote to us a couple of days ago, asking if he could come over and celebrate your birthday with us. He's one of your best friends, so I couldn't possibly refuse him..."

"Yeah, that's right," said Blaise smugly.

The party was small, just the Weasleys, Fleur's family, Blaise, and a couple members of the Order attended. Mrs. Weasley had baked an enormous cake shaped like a Snitch.

"We must decide 'ow you will be disguised, 'Arry," said Fleur over pudding. She nodded at me. "And you, the other one."

Blaise and Ginny grimaced and glanced at me, apology in their eyes.

"For ze wedding," Fleur continued. "Of course, none of our guests are Death Eaters, but we cannot guarantee zat zey will not let something slip after zey 'ave 'ad champagne." She gave a sidelong glance at Hagrid, who flushed and looked down at his pudding.

"Yes, good point," said Mrs. Weasley from the end of the table. "Now Harry... Ron and Hermione seem to be under the impression that the three of you are dropping out of Hogwarts."

Blaise dropped his spoon with a clang, and looked up at Harry, his eyes narrowed. Harry chewed his cake slowly, deliberating. When the cake had probably become a slimy mess in his mouth, Harry swallowed it with a wince.

"Well yeah. We are."

"May I ask why you are abandoning your education?" said Mrs. Weasley. The entire table had gone quiet, listening to the conversation as if they were dying of spattergroit and they were a commercial that promised to cure it.

"Well, Dumbledore left me... stuff to do," mumbled Harry.

Mrs. Weasley stood up suddenly, walking briskly back into the house and motioning for Harry to follow her. He did so sullenly.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Blaise leaned across the table and whispered, "Hey if Potface can ditch, why can't we?"

"You heard him. He has stuff to do." I stared at the door of the house, wondering why Harry had never told me anything about this in the three weeks, six days, and nine hours we spent locked up at the Dursleys. I guess it kind of explained his sudden cleaning frenzy, but... You'd have thought he would've told me.

In the middle of dinner, Scrimgeour arrived with Percy. I stood up to greet the former Head Boy with enthusiasm, forgetting that he had turned his back on us. Percy very pointedly ignored me.

Mr. Weasley led Scrimgeour into the house, and Mrs. Weasley came out, looking over her shoulder worriedly. When she saw Percy, her entire face brightened. She offered him cake. He flat out refused.

That night, I lay in bed listening to Ginny snore softly. I stared at the poster of the Holyhead Harpies, grinning madly on their broomsticks, and for the first time in a while, I thought of Draco. I wondered what he was doing right now... if he had heard the news about Ashley. He probably had, I decided, there had been an obituary in the paper. But then again, Draco wasn't big on reading the paper.

Blaise, Ron, and Harry were all staying in the same room, much to their general disappointment. It was probably well past midnight by now and still, I could hear the furious whispers coming from their room.

I pulled off the covers and padded my way up to Ron's room. As soon as I pushed open the door, there was a quick shuffling of blankets and the light suddenly went out. I turned it back on. Harry and Ron were peeking out from under the covers, their eyes wide; Hermione was curled into a ball on the floor, her hands protecting her neck; Blaise was sitting on the bed in his green and silver pajamas, looking annoyed.

"Can you tell your Gryffindor buddies to go plan their escape plan somewhere else?" he whispered irritably. "I'm trying to sleep."

Hermione looked up at me, gave an embarrassed laugh, and continued assorting books on the floor.

"It's past midnight," said Harry reprovingly. "What are you still doing up?"

I crossed my arms. "You're still up."

"Yeah, but I'm older than you."

"By two minutes. That's so unfair."

Blaise clutched his head, groaned, and flopped back onto his creaking mattress. "Will you two save the sibling bicker act until tomorrow? I'm completely exhausted."

"But we didn't even do anything today," I said.

He glared at me. "Maybe you didn't, but Mother Weasel's had me cleaning all over this pigsty."

"Watch it," said Ron warningly, "Or you're leaving right now."

Blaise sneered. "Man, I'm so fucking scared right now."

"Hey—"

Something creaked above us, and we all jumped.

"We should get to bed," Hermione breathed, her eyes trained on the ceiling. "I've finished packing the essentials, and it won't do to oversleep tomorrow."

"Yeah." Ron crawled under his bedspread. "A brutal triple murder by the bridegroom's mother might put a damper on the wedding."

A/N: not my best work... I've been kind of preoccupied with graduation & graduation activities & things of that nature. & plus, there wasn't much to write for this. Next chapter's the wedding. I'm still not sure about that one.

& I'm not sure when the next chapter will be coming out. I want to take a little break to enjoy the time I have left with my friends who are leaving. & also to enjoy the week of summer I'm going to have before summer school starts -_- the latest it'll be is two weeks from today. So... it might be out earlier? Yeah.

Tuesday's my birthday (:
read&review! (: