Christina awoke in a dark haze and saw the blurry outlines of two people, as she blinked they came into focus. Hermione had her arms folded and was looking outright enraged and Fred was there with a big grin.

"You are such an idiot sometimes, I swear!" said Hermione, hitting Christina with a wrapped up newspaper.

"Good morning to you too. . . what time is it?" said Christina, propping herself up on the pillows behind her.

"It's 10:30 at night. You haven't been out long," said Fred, "McGonagall told us everything, you cut your wrists to escape Umbridge?" Christina gave a small laugh, "Yeah."

"Genius."

"No, it is not genius! You could have seriously hurt yourself Christina! You have to be more careful!" said Hermione. Fred leaned down and kissed her and quietly said, "I still think it was pretty genius . . . " but Hermione had heard.

"You two are unbelievable! It's like you have a death wish. Now how was your Occlumency lesson?" Christina groaned and recanted to story to them, ending it with the fact that she would have to return Thursday night.

"Well it's for the best. Professor Dumbledore knows what's best. Now let's get you back to the common room" and Hermione lifted up her sheets and helped her out of bed and back into the common room.

The fact that Hagrid was now on probation became common knowledge within the school over the next few days, but to Christina's indignation, hardly anybody appeared to be upset about it; indeed, some people, Draco Malfoy prominent among them, seemed positively gleeful. As for the freakish death of an obscure Department of Mysteries employee in St. Mungo's, Christina, Harry, Ron, and Hermione seemed to be the only people who knew or cared. There was only one topic of conversation in the corridors now: the ten escaped Death Eaters, whose story had finally filtered through the school from those few people who read the newspapers. Rumors were flying that some of the convicts had been spotted in Hogsmeade, that they were supposed to be hiding out in the Shrieking Shack and that they were going to break into Hogwarts, just as Sirius Black had done. Those who came from Wizarding families had grown up hearing the names of these Death Eaters spoken with almost as much fear as Voldemort's; the crimes they had committed during the days of Voldemort's reign of terror were legendary. There were relatives of 'their victims among the Hogwarts students, who now found themselves the unwilling objects of a gruesome sort of reflected fame as they walked the corridors: Susan Bones, who had an uncle, aunt, and cousins who had all died at the hands of one of the ten, said miserably during Herbology that she now had a good idea what it felt like to be Christina.

"And I don't know how you stand it, it's horrible," she said bluntly, dumping far too much dragon manure on her tray of Screechsnap seedlings, causing them to wriggle and squeak in discomfort. It was true that Christina was the subject of much renewed muttering and pointing in the corridors these days, yet she thought she detected a slight difference in the tone of the whisperers' voices. They sounded curious rather than hostile now, and once or twice she was sure he overheard snatches of conversation that suggested that the speakers were not satisfied with the Prophet's version of how and why ten Death Eaters had managed to break out of Azkaban fortress. In their confusion and fear, these doubters now seemed to be turning to the only other explanation available to them, the one that Christina, Harry and Dumbledore had been expounding since the previous year. It was not only the students' mood that had changed. It was now quite common to come across two or three teachers conversing in low, urgent whispers in the corridors, breaking off their conversations the moment they saw students approaching.

"They obviously can't talk freely in the staffroom anymore," said Hermione in a low voice, as she, Christina, Harry, and Ron passed Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout huddled together outside the Charms classroom one day. "Not with Umbridge there."

"Reckon they know anything new?" said Ron, gazing back over his shoulder at the three teachers.

"If they do, we're not going to hear about it, are we?" said Harry angrily.

"Not after Decree . . . What number are we on now?" asked Christina. For new signs had appeared on the house notice boards the morning after news of the Azkaban breakout:

— BY ORDER OF —

The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts

Teachers are hereby banned from giving students any information that is not strictly related to the subjects they are paid to teach.

The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-six.

Signed:

Dolores Jane Umbridge

HIGH INQUISITOR

This latest decree had been the subject of a great number of jokes among the students. Lee Jordan had pointed out to Umbridge that by the terms of the new rule she was not allowed to tell Fred and George off for playing Exploding Snap in the back of the class.

"Exploding Snap's got nothing to do with Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor! That's not information relating to your subject!" When Christina next saw Lee, the back of his hand was bleeding rather badly. Christina recommended essence of murtlap. Christina had thought that the breakout from Azkaban might have humbled Umbridge a little, that she might have been abashed at the catastrophe that had occurred right under her beloved Fudge's nose. It seemed, however, to have only intensified her furious desire to bring every aspect of life at Hogwarts under her personal control. She 'seemed determined at the very least to achieve a sacking before long, and the only question was whether it would be Professor Trelawney or Hagrid who went first. Every single Divination and Care of Magical Creatures lesson was now conducted in the presence of Umbridge and her clipboard. She lurked by the fire in the heavily perfumed tower room, interrupting Professor Trelawney's increasingly hysterical talks with difficult questions about Ornithomancy and Heptomology, insisting that she predict students' answers before they gave them and demanding that she demonstrate her skill at the crystal ball, the tea leaves, and the rune stones in turn. Christina thought that Professor Trelawney might soon crack under the strain; several times she passed her in the corridors (in itself a very unusual occurrence as she generally remained in her tower room), muttering wildly to herself, wringing her hands, and shooting terrified glances over her shoulder, all the time giving off a powerful smell of cooking sherry. If Christina had not been so worried about Hagrid, she would have felt sorry for her — but if one of them was to be ousted out of a job, there could be only one choice for Christina as to who should remain. Unfortunately, Christina could not see that Hagrid was putting up a better show than Trelawney. Though he seemed to be following Hermione's advice and had shown them nothing more frightening than a crup, a creature indistinguishable from a Jack Russell terrier except for its forked tail, since before Christmas, he also seemed to have lost his nerve. He was oddly distracted and jumpy in lessons, losing the thread of what he was saying while talking to the class, answering questions wrongly and glancing anxiously at Umbridge all the time. He was also more distant with Christina, Harry, Ron, and Hermione than he had ever been before, expressly forbidding them to visit him after dark.

"If she catches yeh, it'll be all of our necks on the line," he told them flatly, and with no desire to do anything that jeopardized his job further, they abstained from walking down to his hut in the evenings. It seemed to Christina that Umbridge was steadily depriving her of everything that made her life at Hogwarts worth living. She took her revenge the only way she had: redoubling her efforts for the D.A. Christina was pleased to see that all of them, even Zacharias Smith, had been spurred to work harder than ever by the news that ten more Death Eaters were now on the loose, but in nobody was this improvement more pronounced than in Neville. The news of his parents' attacker's escape had wrought a strange and even slightly alarming change in him. He had not once mentioned his meeting with Christina, Harry, Ron, and Hermione on the closed ward in St. Mungo's, and taking their lead from him, they had kept quiet about it too. Nor had he said anything on the subject of Bellatrix and her fellow torturers' escape; in fact, he barely spoke during D.A. meetings anymore, but worked relentlessly on every new jinx and countercurse Christina and Harry taught them, his plump face screwed up in concentration, apparently indifferent to injuries or accidents, working harder than anyone else in the room. He was improving so fast it was quite unnerving and when Christina taught them the Shield Charm, a means of deflecting minor jinxes so that they rebounded upon the attacker, only Hermione mastered the charm faster than Neville. In fact Christina would have given a great deal to be making as much progress at Occlumency as Neville was making during D.A. meetings.

Christina's sessions with Snape, which had started badly enough, were not improving; on the contrary, Christina felt she was getting worse with every lesson. Before she had started studying Occlumency, her scar had prickled occasionally, always during the night, or else following one of those strange flashes of Voldemort's thoughts or moods that she experienced rarely. Nowadays, however, her scar hardly ever stopped prickling, she had the horrible impression that she was slowly turning into a kind of aerial that was tuned in to tiny fluctuations in Voldemort's mood, and she was sure she could date this increased sensitivity firmly from her first Occlumency lesson with Snape. What was more, she was now dreaming about walking down the corridor toward the entrance to the Department of Mysteries almost every night, dreams that always culminated in her standing longingly in front of the plain black door.

"Maybe it's a bit like an illness," said Hermione, looking concerned when Christina confided in her, Harry and Ron. "A fever or something. It has to get worse before it gets better." Harry had been feeling exactly the same, the same dreams, the same feelings, but his seemed almost amplified.

"It's lessons with Snape that are making it worse," said Harry flatly. "I'm getting sick of my scar hurting, and I'm getting bored walking down that corridor every night." He rubbed his forehead angrily.

"I just wish the door would open, I'm sick of standing staring at it —" Christina added.

"That's not funny," said Hermione sharply. "Dumbledore doesn't want you to have dreams about that corridor at all, or he wouldn't have asked Snape to teach you both Occlumency. You're just going to have to work a bit harder in your lessons."

"I am working!" said Harry, nettled.

"You try it sometime, Snape trying to get inside your head, it's not a bundle of laughs, you know!" Christina retorted.

"Maybe . . ." said Ron slowly.

"Maybe what?" said Hermione rather snappishly.

"Maybe it's not their fault they can't close their minds," said Ron darkly.

"What do you mean?" said Hermione.

"Well, maybe Snape isn't really trying to help them. . . ." Christina, Harry and Hermione stared at him. Ron looked darkly and meaningfully from one another. "Maybe," he said again in a lower voice, "he's actually trying to open their minds a bit wider . . . make it easier for You-Know —"

"Shut up, Ron," said Hermione angrily. "How many times have you suspected Snape, and when have you ever been right? Dumbledore trusts him, he works for the Order, that ought to be enough."

"He used to be a Death Eater," said Ron stubbornly. "And we've never seen proof that he really swapped sides. . . ."

"Dumbledore trusts him," Hermione repeated. "And if we can't trust Dumbledore, we can't trust anyone." With so much to worry about and so much to do — startling amounts of homework that frequently kept the fifth years working until past midnight, secret D.A. meetings, and regular classes with Snape — January seemed to be passing alarmingly fast. Before Christina knew it, February had arrived, bringing with it wetter and warmer weather and the prospect of the second Hogsmeade visit of the year.

Christina, Harry, Ron, Fred, George and Ginny were all eating breakfast together the morning of the 14th when the owl post came in. Tulip was not there — not that she had expected her — but Hermione was tugging a letter from the beak of an unfamiliar brown owl as she sat down.

"And about time! If it hadn't come today . . ." she said eagerly, tearing open the envelope and pulling out a small piece of parchment. Her eyes sped from left to right as she read through the message and a grimly pleased expression spread across her face.

"Listen, Christina, Harry," she said, looking up at them. "This is really important. . . . Do you think you could meet me in the Three Broomsticks around midday?"

"How important is important?" asked Christina. Fred nudged Christina, "It's Valentine's Day, Hermione. I'm surprised you're even seeing us now." Fred said slyly winking at Hermione. Hermione rolled her eyes and looked to Harry.

"Well . . . I dunno," said Harry dubiously. "Cho might be expecting me to spend the whole day with her. We never said what we were going to do. Oh Christina, did you ask Fred?" '

"Ask me what?" asked Fred. Christina smiled, "Hey Fred, want to go on a double date with Harry and Cho on Valentine's Day?" Fred let out a hearty laugh.

"Yeah, sure!"

"WHAT!" Christina roared, sending daggers to Fred.

"Perfect! It's settled." said Harry, pleased. Christina gave Fred a dirty look but Fred whispered in her ear, "Think of how much fun we can have messing with them! We could snog the whole time or we could fight the whole time, or we could say just extraordinarily dirty things to one another . . ." Christina contemplated this and it could be fun but she still grumbled.

"Well, bring Cho along if you must," said Hermione urgently. "But will you come?"

"Well . . . all right, but why?" said Harry.

"I haven't got time to tell you now, I've got to answer this quickly —" And she hurried out of the Great Hall, the letter clutched in one hand and a piece of uneaten toast in the other.

"Are you coming?" Harry asked Ron, but he shook his head, looking glum. "I can't come into Hogsmeade at all, Angelina wants a full day's training. Like it's going to help — we're the worst team I've ever seen. You should see Sloper and Kirke, they're pathetic, even worse than I am." He heaved a great sigh. "I dunno why Angelina won't just let me resign. . . ."

"It's because you're good when you're on form, that's why," said Harry irritably. Christina rolled her eyes. She found it very hard to be sympathetic to Ron's plight when she herself would have given almost anything to be playing in the forthcoming match against Hufflepuff. Ron seemed to notice Harry's tone, because he did not mention Quidditch again during breakfast, and there was a slight frostiness in the way they said good-bye to each other shortly afterward. Ron departed for the Quidditch pitch with Ginny, George headed out of the Great Hall with Lee, and Harry went to the bathroom leaving Fred and Christina alone at the table.

"What the fuck, Fred?"

"Oh come on, it'll be fun. I promise. I'll make it fun" she glared at him, "And I've got a surprise for you tonight." He finished smiling. She sighed and finished her toast.

"We should just be the most obnoxious couple ever."

"Yeah! That's the spirit!"

"Cause the only reason why Harry needs me to come along is cause he wants a buffer in case the conversation runs stale . . ."

"We could make it really awkward."

"Okay, now this does seem funny. Wait, let me get on lipstick."

"Oh, I've got something to make it better, too!" Fred and Christina both ran up to the Gryffindor common room, Christina returning wearing ruby red lipstick and Fred returning with a bouquet of roses. Christina blushed.

"Where did you get those!" she said while accepting the roses.

"Ordered them a week ago, they're nice, right?"

"Yeah I love them! Thank you so much!" she planted a kiss on his mouth and she pulled away to see his lips pinker than usual. She laughed, "Wait, come here I can make you look more loved" and she kissed him again on his cheeks and neck. He turned to look in the mirror and laughed.

"You're a genius."

"Why thank you, sir."

"Wait, kiss me here. It'll look amazing." Fred put his arms in the air which lifted his sweater up to reveal a small bit of skin above his trousers. She laughed and reapplied the lipstick to make the kiss mark darker.

"Harry's going to kill me."

Fred and Christina proceeded to the entrance hall to meet Harry and Cho, excited to see what they'd say. They were waiting for them a little to the side of the oak front doors, Cho looking very pretty with her hair tied back in a long ponytail and Harry looking as though he were going to faint.

"Don't you look . . .nice." said Cho slightly breathlessly as Fred and Christina walked over to the pair.

"Well it's Valentines Day, gotta show some love." said Christina smiling at Harry.

"I'd expect no less." he said. There was a pause where Cho seemed to be counting the kiss marks and Fred put his arms over his head to stretch and as his lower kiss mark showed Cho's eyes widened.

"Well — er — shall we go, then?" said Harry loudly.

"Oh — yes . . ." said Cho. The two of them turned to walk to Hogsmeade and Christina turned to Fred, giddy as could be. She hopped on his back as they joined the queue of people being signed out by Filch. Christina started to nibble on Fred's ear and he giggled, making Cho turn around to again be embarrassed by Christina and Fred's open romance.

It was a fresh, breezy sort of day and as they passed the Quidditch stadium, Christina glimpsed Ron and Ginny skimming over the stands and felt a horrible pang that she was not up there with them. . . .

"You really miss it, don't you?" said Cho to Harry.

"Me? Nah, too much flying around. Gets you dizzy." said Fred, Christina covered her face in the crook of his shoulder sniggering.

"Oh, no I meant Harry actually." Cho said politely. Christina kissed his neck again in admiration.

"Yeah," sighed Harry. "I do."

"Remember the first time we played against each other, in the third year?" she asked him.

"Yeah," said Harry, grinning. "You kept blocking me."

"And Wood told you not to be a gentleman and knock me off my broom if you had to," said Cho, smiling reminiscently. "I heard he got taken on by Pride of Portree, is that right?"

"Nah, it was Puddlemere United, I saw him at the World Cup last year."

"Oh, I saw you there too, remember? We were on the same campsite. It was really good, wasn't it?"

As Cho and Harry discussed Quidditch, Christina jumped off his back and created two saucers from the dirt to slide on, "Come on, Fred! Race you!" and she tossed him one of the smooth disks and he placed it on the pavement to Cho's left and Christina to Harry's right.

"Where did she get that?" said Cho quietly to Harry.

Harry sighed. "Must've. . . brought it. . . "

"GO!" they slid off down the icy drive but Christina turned hers towards Fred and they crashed into one another, laughing. Christina returned the disks into dirt.

"I think it's going well." said Fred honestly.

"We're the best." she said, and high-fived Fred. He kissed her roughly in a sort of tackle-like manner and she kissed back, loving every second of it. They got up a moment later, dusting off bits of snow from their jackets. Christina looked up to Harry and Cho who were closer now and right behind them was a large gang of Slytherin girls starting to pass them, including Pansy Parkinson. '

"Potter and Chang!" screeched Pansy to a chorus of snide giggles. "Urgh, Chang, I don't think much of your taste. . . . At least Diggory was good-looking!" They sped up, talking and shrieking in a pointed fashion with many exaggerated glances back at Harry and Cho, leaving an embarrassed silence in their wake. Christina frowned and took revenge by slanting the pavement from underneath them, each Slytherin girl slipped on the ice and fell down. Fred and Christina roared laughing.

"Walk much?" said Christina passing them as they slipped and slid around on the pavement. Christina and Fred met back up with Harry and Cho who were awkwardly standing there in silence.

"So . . . where d'you want to go?" Harry asked as they entered Hogsmeade. The High Street was full of students ambling up and down, peering into the shop windows and messing about together on the pavements.

"Oh . . . I don't mind," said Cho, shrugging. "Um . . . shall we just have a look in the shops or something?" They wandered toward Dervish and Banges. A large poster had been stuck up in the window and a few Hogsmeaders were looking at it. They moved aside when Christina, Fred, Harry and Cho approached and Christina found herself staring once more at the ten pictures of the escaped Death Eaters. The poster ("By Order of the Ministry of Magic") offered a thousand-Galleon reward to any witch or wizard with information relating to the recapture of any of the convicts pictured.

"It's funny, isn't it," said Cho in a low voice, also gazing up at the pictures of the Death Eaters. "Remember when that Sirius Black escaped, and there were dementors all over Hogsmeade looking for him? And now ten Death Eaters are on the loose and there aren't dementors anywhere. . . ."

"Yeah," said Christina, tearing her eyes away from Bellatrix Lestrange's face to glance up and down the High Street.

"Yeah, it is weird. . . ." said Harry. She was not sorry that there were no dementors nearby, but now she came to think of it, their absence was highly significant. They had not only let the Death Eaters escape, they were not bothering to look for them. . . . It looked as though they really were outside Ministry control now. The ten escaped Death Eaters were staring out of every shop window they passed. It started to rain as they passed Scrivenshaft's; and Fred put his shirt over Christina's head as they walked through the village.

"Um . . . d'you want to get a coffee?" said Cho tentatively, as the rain began to fall more heavily.

"Yeah, all right," said Harry, looking around. "Where — ?"

"Oh, there's a really nice place just up here, haven't you ever been to Madam Puddifoot's?" she said brightly, and she led them up a side road and into a small tea shop that Christina had only seen once before. She saw it the previous year, and noticed Cho and Cedric inside.

It was a cramped, steamy little place where everything seemed to have been decorated with frills or bows.

"This is what Umbridge's office looks like by the way." she murmured to Fred.

"Cute, isn't it?" said Cho happily.

"Er . . . yeah," said Harry untruthfully.

"Look, she's decorated it for Valentine's Day!" said Cho, indicating a number of golden cherubs that were hovering over each of the small, circular tables, occasionally throwing pink confetti over the occupants.

"Aaah . . ." said Fred.

They sat down at the last remaining table, which was situated in the steamy window. Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, was sitting about a foot and a half away with a pretty blonde girl. They were holding hands. Christina looked around the shop and saw that it was full of nothing but couples, all of them holding hands. Christina and Fred joined suit, however Harry didn't pick up the hint.

"What can I get you, m'dears?" said Madam Puddifoot, a very stout woman with a shiny black bun, squeezing between their table and Roger Davies's with great difficulty.

"Four coffees, please," said Cho. Christina looked to Fred to see if he also picked up on Cho ordered for them but he seemed to be deep in thought. . . what was he up to . . .

In the time it took for their coffees to arrive, Roger Davies and his girlfriend started kissing over their sugar bowl and Cho turned her head to Christina and Fred.

"So how long have you two been together?" she asked awkwardly, trying to fill the silence. Fred was still in a daze so Christina answered.

"Uhh, what's it been . . . a year and, oh god, okay we got together last last May . . . so almost two years! Oh wow, I didn't even realize that."

"You two don't do anniversaries? I love anniversaries."

"We're just . . . so busy being in love . . . everyday is an anniversary." Fred said, shaken out of his daze. Cho awed and Christina saw Harry roll his eyes.

After a few painful minutes of silence Cho mentioned Umbridge; Harry seized on the subject with relief and they passed a few happy moments abusing her, but the subject had already been so thoroughly canvassed during D.A. meetings it did not last very long. Silence fell again. Christina was very conscious of the slurping noises coming from the table next door.

"Er . . . listen, d'you want to come with me to the Three Broomsticks at lunchtime? I'm meeting Hermione Granger there." Cho raised her eyebrows.

"You're meeting Hermione Granger? Today?" Christina's eyes widened as Fred gave her direct eye contact, both of them fearfully grimacing.

"Yeah. Well, she asked me to, so I thought I would. D'you want to come with me? She said it wouldn't matter if you did."

"Oh . . . well . . . that was nice of her." But Cho did not sound as though she thought it was nice at all; on the contrary, her tone was cold and all of a sudden she looked rather forbidding.

"Christina and Fred are going."

"Well apparently Christina and Fred go wherever you go so . . . " Christina bit her lip, feeling the unkindness from Cho. Fred looked to Christina to try and see if they should leave but she shook her head. A few more minutes passed in total silence, Harry drinking his coffee so fast that he would soon need a fresh cup, Fred playing footsie with Christina and Cho slowly stirring her coffee, chin resting on palm. Next door, Roger Davies and his girlfriend seemed glued together by the lips. Cho was now watching Roger Davies kissing his girlfriend with a mildly interested expression.

"He asked me out, you know," she said in a quiet voice. "A couple of weeks ago. Roger. I turned him down, though." Harry said nothing and Christina again had a silent conversation with Fred about the incredible awkwardness of the pair next to them. Their cherub threw another handful of confetti over them; some of it landed in the last cold dregs of coffee Harry had been about to drink.

"I came in here with Cedric last year," said Cho. In the second or so it took for Christina to take in what she had said, her insides had become glacial. She could not believe she wanted to talk about Cedric now, while she was there with Harry, kissing couples surrounding them and a cherub floating over their heads. Cho's voice was rather higher when she spoke again.

"I've been meaning to ask you for ages. . . . Did Cedric — did he m-m-mention me at all before he died?" Christina's awkward tight lips turned into a frown and she looked away from Cho, starting to hate her. Why would she ask Harry that?

"Well - it was actually Christina who spoke with his ghost after he died -" Christina shot Harry the dirtiest look. Christina had told Harry and only Harry in confidence about her conversation with Cedric's ghost. She could've strangled him right then and there. Christina turned to Cho who's eyes were swimming with tears.

"No."

"Erm . . . so . . . d'you . . . d'you get to see a lot of Quidditch in the holidays? You support the Tornados, right?" Harry's voice sounded falsely bright and cheery.

"Look," he said desperately, leaning in so that nobody else could overhear, "let's not talk about Cedric right now. . . . Let's talk about something else. . . ." But this, apparently, was quite the wrong thing to say. '

"I thought," she said, tears spattering down onto the table. "I thought you'd u-u-understand! I need to talk about it! Surely you n-need to talk about it t-too! I mean, you saw it happen, d-didn't you?" Everything was going nightmarishly wrong; Roger Davies' girlfriend had even unglued herself to look around at Cho crying.

"Well — I have talked about it," Harry said in a whisper, "to Christina, Ron and Hermione, but —"

"Oh, you'll talk to Hermione Granger!" she said shrilly, her face now shining with tears, and several more kissing couples broke apart to stare. "But you won't talk to me! P-perhaps it would be best if we just . . . just p-paid and you went and met up with Hermione G-Granger, like you obviously want to!" Christina was utterly confused, did she think Harry and Hermione were a thing? Harry stared at her, bewildered, as she seized a frilly napkin and dabbed at her shining face with it.

"Cho?" he said weakly, wishing Roger would seize his girlfriend and start kissing her again to stop her goggling at him and Cho.

"Go on, leave!" she said, now crying into the napkin. "I don't know why you asked me out in the first place if you're going to make arrangements to meet other girls right after me. . . . Couldn't even go out with me without Christina here! I bet she told her boyfriend about the night he-he-"

"Well you're not exactly my girlfriend so-"

"OKAY! We're gonna go, lots of stuff to do-"

"What do you mean I'm not your girlfriend! How many are you meeting after Hermione?"

"It's not like that!" said Harry with a nervous laugh. Cho sprang to her feet.

"I'll see you around, Harry," she said dramatically, and hiccuping slightly she dashed to the door, wrenched it open, and hurried off into the pouring rain.

"Cho!" Harry called after her, but the door had already swung shut behind her with a tuneful tinkle. There was total silence within the tea shop. Every eye was upon Harry. He threw a Galleon down onto the table, shook pink confetti out of his eyes, and followed Cho out of the door. Christina got up to follow Harry but when she opened the door there was no sign of him. Fred stepped up behind Christina.

"Well, that was a complete disaster!" she said lightly out of breath with a smile. Fred moved forward, towering over her.

"You spoke to Cedric after he died?" Christina's smile faded as she looked at a stern Fred Weasley. Fred rarely ever was serious so she knew it was important to place her words carefully.

"Yes. Him, Harry's parents, and a man and a woman I didn't know."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought it would only hurt you." she said honestly.

"Well it certainly hurts now!" he put his hands on his hips and looked above her head. She felt awful, she never wanted this to happen. She could've killed Harry . . . her lip started to tremble and she hugged his chest.

"I'm so sorry Fred, we should have never gone out with Harry and Cho, we should-"

"What did he say to you?"

"Cedric?" she asked and pulled away, looking up to his stony face.

"Yeah." She weighed her words carefully, she could either lie and make him feel better . . . but if he ever found out he would surely leave her . . . or she could tell the truth and deal with the consequences now.

"Well. He asked me to bring his body back. To his father. . . and he said 'It was always you'" he looked at her hard, concentrating on all her features.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know . . . Fred, listen, nothing ever happened between us-"

"I know. Did he love you?"

"I don't- no, he couldn't have he was with Cho the whole time . . . " Fred looked away again and Christina felt tears start to well-up in her eyes. She sniffed and Fred looked down.

"Oh, no, no don't cry!" he wrapped his arms around her and placed his chin on her head.

"I'm so sorry Fred, I should have told you, I didn't want you to thin anything happened cause I didn't know he'd say that-" he shushed her and kissed her forehead.

"I love you so much, Christina." she hugged him tighter and murmured into his chest.

"I'll love you forever, Fred."