Aimee awoke to the sound of thunder. Her eyes opened groggily and she looked out the window. She didn't see any rain at first. Then she squinted, and saw there were no clouds in the sky either. The sky was absolutely clear, with the moon shining down through the window and the stars twinkling happily. Moon light wafted through the window and illuminated the room in an eerie light.

Aimee could tell something was wrong. And the feeling that something was wrong augmented when she heard a snicker, then another thunder clap.

And suddenly, it began to rain.

Inside the room.

Aimee shrieked, along with a few other girls, and squinted up at the ceiling.

There was no ceiling. It was obscured by a bunch of angry and gray-looking miniaturized versions of clouds.

Then laughter broke out completely, and a few more girls started to scream in protest as they were drenched in bed. And then, Aimee saw them. The boys were standing under a giant red-and-white umbrella, laughing their heads off as they watched the girls under the pouring rain.

"God, what is wrong with you?" Sophie yelled, squinting at them through the rain. Her hair was hanging limply by her face, sopping wet. She buried herself under the covers.

"Hey, girls! How are you doing?" Benji called, guffawing.

"What time is it?" Adelaide shrieked. She turned to her alarm clock, but to her dismay it had already been so drenched with water that it was functioning unproperly. The bright green numbers on the tiny screen were going nuts, they turned on and off and flashed different numbers until the alarm clock gave an angry spurt of sparks and died dow.

"Enjoying the rain?" Another of the boys called out, and they started laughing again.

"Boys, you better stop it!" Sophie yelled angrily. There were a few 'yeah!'s around the room.

"Sorry, girls, but this is payback!" Arthur grinned. Gaelle got out of bed and searched blindly in her trunk. Then she pulled out a bright orange umbrella and opened it with a loud 'POOF'. A few girls jumped out of bed to join her underneath the umbrella.

"Ok, you guys, stop it! It isn't funny anymore!" Gaelle shouted over the noise the water was making as it hit the carpeted floor and the umbrella.

"It still looks pretty funny to me!" David said, and they all burst into laughter once more.

The girls grumbled and muttered curses to themselves. Then, an angry screech was heard.

"DIDN'T I CLEARLY SAY THAT I DID NOT WANT ANY MORE OF THIS PRANKING?"

Madame Dubois was making her way over to them. If possible, she looked angrier than ever, psychotic, even. Her whole body was shaking and she looked even scarier with the curlers in her head. They gave her a homicidal housewife look. The boys turned around and their faces paled. The umbrella was dropped to the ground with a thud. Some lightning struck the top of the umbrella.

"DETENTION FOR A WEEK, ALL OF YOU!" She screamed, "I'LL DEAL WITH YOU IN THE MORNING! NOW GET YOU SORRY BUTTS IN BED AND GO TO SLEEP!"

This time, there were no interruptions, and they all went meekly back to bed, desperately trying to avoid Madame Dubois' murderous, penetrating gaze.

What was left of the umbrella spontaneously caught fire.

After that exciting night, in which everyone had dark circles underneath their eyes in the morning, they all decided to lay low with the pranks and the bad behavior. They attended their detentions, all eleven of them, and suffered their punishments without complaint.

At least, not while they were within earshot of Madame Dubois, anyway.

Aimee and Charlie continued going to the ballroom classes, and they learned the choreography well. Benji finally got up the nerve to ask Ivonne to the dance. Soon, it was December 19th, the day before they all went home. And it was also the day of the ball.

Aimee wasn't sure why she was so excited. Maybe it was the nerves of dancing in front of everybody. Maybe it was the fact that she was dressing up and making up her hair. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

That afternoon, girls had scurried around the dorm, curling irons and straighteners in their hands, putting on making, admiring their dresses… It had been a cacophony of excited voices.

When it had been time to go down the Grande Salle, where the ball was taking place, Charlie and Jacques were already waiting for Aimee and Adelaide in the Grande Salle. Aimee smiled at the mirror and batted her mascara-rimmed eyes at it, admiring the way her bright green eyes popped out with the smoky eyes effect Adelaide had helped her with. Aimee felt gorgeously sexy with it.

"You look gorgeous," Adelaide gushed at Aimee, who smiled, but she couldn't help noticing the way Adelaide kept attracting appreciative stares from passing boys. Adelaide, of course, looked way more beautiful than Aimee, at least in Aimee's opinion. She deeply admired Adelaide's black and golden dress, strapless and with a sweetheart cut to accentuate her curves. The skirt, though, was another completely different thing. It looked somewhat Spanish-culture-y, with a long skirt and shorter folds all the way to her waist, looking like she was wearing a half a dozen skirts on the same dress.

Aimee, too, was wearing a strapless, and she had opted for letting her hair fall in glossy black curls down her back, as opposed to Adelaide, who had her hair up in an elegant bun, with a few hairs let loose in front to curl naturally. A few hairs at the nape of her neck had been too short for the bun and were curling at the back of her neck.

"Shall we go?" Aimee asked Adelaide, patting the skirt of her midnight blue dress to smooth it. It was glittery and all shiny. Aimee loved her dress. Adelaide nodded and they turned the corner to the stairs leading down to the Grande Salle. Aimee was careful not to trip on the stairs in her T-strap high heels, so she held the handrail as she went. She held up her skirt with the other hand. Aimee couldn't help feeling graceful and beautiful as she heard the rhythmic clack, clack her shoes were making as she made each step down.

She eyed Charlie talking to some guys from another house, waiting for her by the stairs. His hands were deep in his pockets and he laughed at something they'd said. Then, hearing Aimee's steps as she went down the steps, he turned.

He looked at her briefly, decided it wasn't her and turned back to the other boy. Then he started, and turned around again.

And the grin on his face slid right off and all he could do was stare. Aimee could see the smoky eyes were having the desired effect on him. She smiled at him.

Once she reached him, Charlie composed himself and managed to stop staring. Aimee flicked a few long hairs obscuring her face away with her hand.

"Hi," She said, and Charlie grinned. Then he bowed, and seized her hand. "M'lady," He kissed it softly, his eyes looking up at her.

"Charlie!" Aimee blushed, feeling embarrassed and pleased at the same time.

"Thou look beautiful," Charlie added, then stood straight, smiling charmingly at her.

"I don't think you said it right," Aimee giggled, but she didn't particularly care whether or not Charlie's Shakespearean grammar was right.

"But I got my point across, didn't I?" He said, still smiling charmingly, and released her hand.

"Thank you," Aimee gushed, feeling unnaturally giggly. Then he led her over to their tables, where Jacques and Adelaide were having a very involved conversation, Jacques speaking in a low, deep voice and Adelaide batting her eyelashes and smiling. They sat down for a while and talked, then Aimee decided to go get a drink.

Someone was talking loudly next to her as Aimee carefully served herself some pumpkin so that she would not spill it over herself.

"Jean-Pierre! I told you not to spike it!" Marianna was dressed in a stunning cocktail red dress. Aimee had to admit even to herself Marianna looked quite pretty. The dress had a tight bodice and skirt that accentuated Marianna's hour-glass figure, but it had a long cut up her thigh that snapped the classy look in two.

Jean-Pierre was dressed in a suit and he'd been pouring some transparent liquid from a small bottle into the punch. When Marianna reprimanded him, he looked up and grinned. "It's just some good fun!"

Aimee left the table to Marianna sqwacking back at him, "No it isn't!"

When she reached their table, Benji and Ivonne had joined them. Benji was oggling at Ivonne, who looked gorgeous in a pretty light blue dress. Soon, Ivonne's friends came by.

"Hey, girls!" Aimee smiled at Paola, Elizabeth, and Samantha. They said hi back and sat down. Samantha turned to her date, who was staring at her with oogly eyes. "Could you bring me some punch, Alexis? I'm thristy."

"Of course," the guy said, and practically turned over his chair in his haste to get her punch.

Samantha turned happily to Aimee. "Isn't he adorable?" She gushed.

Thrity minutes later, she stood in the now dark room about to dance her waltz choreography with Charlie, breathing shallowly, and her stomach had an empty feel to it in anticipation. In just minutes they would perform the dance that they had practiced in the ballroom lessons.

"You ok?" Charlie breathed in her ear behind her. Aimee looked straight forward and nodded furiously. "Yeah, I'm fine." She assured him. She gulped.

"You look like you're about to faint." He said again. His face was close to hers and it made the empty feeling in her stomach worse. "Nervous?"

"Yeah," Aimee laughed. It wasn't a humorous laugh, it sounded more like she'd been holding her breath and then let it out as she it. Aimee was quiet for a few minutes.

Charlie's breath against her neck made her jump. "Aimee? Come on, we're on." He jerked his head toward the dance floor and gave her a confident grin. He took her hand and led her to their places on the dark stage.

"I'm so nervous," She whispered to Charlie. The murmur of the crowd was making her uneasy.

"You'll be alright," Charlie whispered back, and Aimee saw him smiling encouragly at her. She relaxed a bit. Then the piano started, accompanied by a few romantic strums of the guitar.

The spotlight was turned on, and the people 'Oh'ed in surprise as it landed on Adelaide, who was sitting on an elevated part of the stage with the musicians, her gorgeous dress draped around her legs. She held a red rose in her hands. Someone whistled. Aimee took a wild guess and supposed it was Jacques.

"This song," Adelaide started in a soft voice, but her voice had been charmed to be heard all over the Grande Salle, "Is about love." The guitar gave a strum-strum-strum as if to make sure the people had heard Adelaide. She plucked a petal of the rose and let it fall to the ground. There were a few more whistles.

"It tells the story of two lovers," She looked away from the rose, another petal between her fingers, "Who could not be together." She let the second petal fall.

Another spotlight turned on, this time on Margaux, the fifth year girl who was doing a duet with Adelaide. Another 'Oh' of surprise from the audience. "Their love was forbidden," Margaux said in her throaty voice, and held her own red rose delicately between her fingers. She let brush against her cheek for a second before she continued, "And their passion was what drove them insane for being ripped apart."

Then the violins started with a loud entrance, and the whole stage lit up, revealing the dancers, in pairs. In cue, Charlie put his hand at Aimee's waist and took her hand, and she put her other on his shoulder.

The violins kept playing a slow, painful tune, and Aimee moved forward as Charlie walked backward, looking straight into Charlie's eyes. She had never really noticed their unusual color before. They were a light brown, almost hazel, but somewhat grayish, if you really thought about it. Around them, all the other couples were doing the same steps as them in unison. Then he twirled her around and they sharply resumed their original position, hands on waists, hands on shoulders. The violins reached their crescendo and Adelaide stood up.

"You go, Addie," One of the boys said and smiled cockily at her. Adelaide breezed past him, leaving the rose on the boy's stand thing to put the papers to read music. She looked at the audience and started singing in that sweet voice of hers, passionate and strong. Aimee let the music flow through her, let Adelaide's voice pump through her veins,and it wa slike she didn't even have to try. The music was leading her, her body already knew what to do. The effort made her start breathing harder. Or maybe it was the loud music that she could feel vibrating in her chest, helping her move to the rhythm?

Charlie dipped her and she arched her back gracefully to go as down as she dared. They resumed positions again and marched, Aimee going backward this time while Charlie went forward. Aimee made a few spins and then came back behind Charlie, trailing her hand across his shoulders as she walked behind him. He turned his head to look at her and reached for her hand.

It was time for Margaux to sing. Her voice was softer, more high-pitched in a sweet way. She sang about love as she picked out a petal from her rose. Then Adelaide joined in and their voices mixed together in perfect symphony.

Charlie dipped Aimee again and pulled her roughly up again. The passionate music stopped to let only one violin play a soft melody as the two singers joined their voices. This was where the dancers stopped, Aimee's hands resting on Charlie's shoulder and her forearms on his chest, and Charlie's hands around her waist. Aimee's breath came out hard through her semi-open mouth, and her chest heaved up and down with every breath. She could feel her heart beating faster. Aimee realized how close to Charlie she was.

Aimee didn't know what came over her, but at that moment, all she knew was that all she had to do just then was tilt her chin upwards and their lips would meet. The words of the last verse were swirling around in her head, controlling her thoughts. When she did tilt her chin upwards, Charlie closed the gap between them, but just as their lips were about to meet, the violins started again in that pained music and Aimee yanked back. They were one step behind! She hurried to twirl around, but Charlie's murky gray-brown eyes never left hers.

It was troubling that Aimee couldn't seem to figure out what he wanted to say.

When the song ended, Aimee quickly excused herself with a "You danced really good. Well, gotta go to the bathroom. Bye!" and hurried off to the ladies' room without even waiting for an answer. Once in it, she locked herself in a bathroom stall to think.

How many people had seen that?

What is Charlie thinking right now about it?

What the heck had she been thinking?

"Aimee?" Adelaide's voice rang through the bathroom, "I know you're in here. Charlie told me you practically ran away from him."

Aimee opened the stall door and grinned as Adelaide, hoping not to seem worried. "Oh, I just really had to go." She said, and giggled nervously. Adelaide raised an eyebrow.

"Uh-huh."

"The dance was great, though, wasn't it? You sang really good. Gosh, it's hot in here. Do you feel like it's too hot in here? Well, I'll just go get a drink, bye!" Aimee chirped, her sentences running together and not stopping between words, so it sounded more like, "The danzzas gray wazzit?", and scampered away, or at least tried to, since Adelaide grabbed her arm and yanked her back inside.

"Ok. What is with you?" Adelaide demanded, hands on hips.

"Me? Nothing. Nothing's wrong. I'm just fine and dandy." Aimee said happily, grinning excessively at Adelaide and talking in the same high-pitched voice.

"Fine and dandy?" Adelaide repeated. "Ok, now I know something's wrong. You never say 'fine and dandy'. Normal people don't say fine and dandy!" She said the last three words as if they were the names of people she was grossed out by.

"Yes, I do. I always say fine and dandy." Aimee squeaked, nodding her head furiously. Was it her, or did it seem like everything she said seemed to be put on fast-forward?

"You don't. Now tell me what the heck happened between you and Charlie to make you run away from him. He looked pretty weirded out when I found him. Did he say anything wierd to you?" Adelaide had now cornered Aimee.

Aimee scratched her neck uncomfortably, then said, "Not something I said, or that he did… more like… Something I did, I guess."

"You guess?" Adeladaide deadpanned in a completely different tone of voice than her own.

"I…I almost… kissed him." Aimee confessed reluctantly, avoiding eye contact. Adelaide's mouth fell open.

"You almost kissed him?" She gasped.

"Yes, but keep it down, will you?" Aimee hissed, looking meaningfully at Adelaide. But Adelaide only walked away in a dazed manner. "Oh, God."

Aimee frowned. Adelaide was making an awful big deal out of this. "What?" She snapped.

"You weren't supposed to fall in love with him, Aimee." Adelaide moaned, and rested her forehead against the wall, "Oh, I knew it."

"I'm not in love with Charlie!" Aimee snapped hotly, feeling the color rise in her cheeks,"It was the music. The dancing. And besides, why not?" She asked, feeling a little defensive.

Adelaide made a gesture with her hands, shook her head, and groaned. "Charlie's-" Adelaide started, but she looked uncertain as how to say it, but finally settled with, "Charlie's complicated."

"Care to elaborate?" Aimee growled, her eye twitching.

"I have to talk to him about this." Adelaide said and made to go out of the bathroom, but Aimee stopped her. "Nuh-uh. This whole thing is my fault. You better not say anything to him about this kiss thing!" She hissed fiercely, and Adelaide begrudgingly said, "Fine."

"Good." Aimee nodded, and yanked Adelaide with her to the door.

After dancing to the cool music a DJ had been playing, Charlie finally managed to corner Aimee at the punch table.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" He asked, and Aimee was so startled with his voice that she jumped and whirled around and clutched the table paranoically.

"A- Avoiding you?" Aimee stammered, then laughed nervously, "I wasn't avoiding you. Why would I avoid you?"

"I don't know. Why have you?" Charlie took a step forward and Aimee stepped sideways, trying to get out from between Charlie and the table.

"Uhh..." Aimee finally reached the end of the table and stumbled back as Charlie advanced and she hit the wall. She put her hands behind her back and tred to look innocently up at him.

He looked up and then said quietly, "What was that, anyway?"

"What was what?" Aimee said quickly. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Please don't mean that

"You know very well what, Aimee," Charlie said in a low voice.

"I..." Aimee stalled. Should she play dumb or say the truth?

What was the truth, anyway? Aimee thought dryly. She had never particularly admitted to herself any fancying to Charlie, she had always just assumed he'd be her friend always.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Aimee said, then tried to slide past him, but Charlie put a hand to the wall right next to her head as she did and her escape was blocked.

"Don't play stupid, Aimee. At the dance floor."

"What happened at the dance floor?" Aimee inquired innocently. She wanted to hear Charlie say it outright. Then maybe she could come up with an excuse during that time.

"I mean when you..." Charlie frowned at her, and he slowly removed his hand and shoved both hands into his trouser pockets. Now he seemed unconvinced that anything had happened. Aimee took the chance to edge away. Now, without her back against a wall and trapped, Aimee felt she could breathe better. She had not noticed that she had started breathing harder but now her breathing had regulated.

"Fancy a walk?" Aimee chirped suddenly, hoping to distract him and smiling tightly, taking the chance that Charlie was looking at her as if trying to decipher her.

"Sure..." Charlie said slowly, with that same searching look. Aimee walked out into the garden. Charlie followed close behind. He put a charm on both of them so they wouldn't be cold. A few other couples sat on the benches, making out or talking, looking deeply into each other eyes lovingly.

Aimee found the sight revolting. She wished they had not come out here. Why couldn't she have asked him to dance? WHy was she so stupid? Now he'd have a chance to attack again. On the dance floor, at least, she could pretend she couldn't hear him.

Aimee started talking about normal stuff, and he soon joined in, forgetting their conversation earlier. They talked about what they'd be doing on winter vacations and how they'd start the new year. After sitting by themselves on a bench and looking up at the star-ridden sky, they fell silent. Aimee could see their breath floating up to the sky. They were slent, both lost in thoughts, and Aimee found herself thinking about Charlie.

What did Adelaide mean, 'Charlie's complicated'? Aimee had known him for a year. He didn't seem complicated to her.

Unless… his sister. The one Sophie had said he'd lost.

There seemed a lot of complication on that one, but that had been at the beginning of sixth year. She had never really asked him about it. He didn't know she knew. But why hadn't he told her anyway?

"Charlie?" Aimee asked softly. She was curious as to know why he hadn't told her. It was too strange, some things about him did not make sense.

"Hmm?" He stopped staring up at the sky to look at her.

"Can I ask you something?" Aimee looked away and leaned against the back of the bench, she in turn looking at the sky.

"Sure."

"Were you ever planning on telling me about your sister?" She looked at Charlie. Were they taking turns looking at each other while the other avoided their gaze or something? Charlie's face hardened and he turned away.

After a moment he said, "How much do you know?" Even his voice had hardened. It had an edge to it.

"Enough to feel like you don't trust me." Aimee said defensively, hurt in her voice.

"How much do you know?" Charlie repeated sharply, his voice sounding… desperate?

"That your little sister got killed when some Death Eaters went to your house because your parents used to work in the Ministry of Magic and they wanted information." Aimee said, and leaned forward to try and get Charlie to look at her. Charlie sighed.

"Yep." He said bitterly. He said no more. He was quiet for a while.

"What was her name?" Aimee enquired softly. "Your sister's, I mean."

Charlie took a long time to answer. He looked up at the sky, as if he had forgotten her name and was trying to remember. "Emily." He said finally. "Her name was Emily."

Aimee leaned back against the bench and looked up at the stars, too. It seemed easier to talk when she wasn't looking at Charlie's eyes."So were you ever planning on telling me?" She asked again.

"No," Charlie said, "I hoped you wouldn't find out." He paused. "I knew you would someday anyway."

"If you knew I'd find out, then why didn't you tell me? I'd rather hear it from you." Aimee said accusingly.

Charlie didn't say anything for a while. "It's… complicated." He said finally.

"That's the same thing Adelaide said."

Charlie's face hardened. "She told you?"

"No. Someone else." Aimee answered, and sighed. "Adelaide did say you're a complicated person, though."

Charlie laughed humorlessly. "Complicated doesn't quite describe it."

"I'd like to know what happened, Charlie."

He finally looked at her. "Why?"

"You're my friend, Charlie. I trusted you with the Animagus thing. I trust you with everything. Why don't you trust me?" Aimee asked in a hurt voice. She was starting to get annoyed with him at his reluctance.

"It's not about whether I trust you or not," Charlie sighed, "There's more to it than what you know."

"Yeah, I noticed." Aimee said coldly. She rubbed the fine silk of her dress between her fingers, looking for something to distract herself with. "But I don't get why you refuse to keep it from me. Stop acting like I wouldn't understand these sort of thing. You're not the only one who's lost someone. You're forgetting my parents are dead."

Her words seemed to hang in the air as silence fell upon them again.

His voice retained certain desperation, it shook with emotion and his fists curled as he said, "I know. But this is different. You don't know what happened that night my sister died."

Aimee let out a humorless laugh. "Charlie, this whole thing has to do with Voldemort, and my only mission in life, practically, is to help my brother defeat him. I know about this kind of stuff. I don't know what he did to you, but let me tell you, I've encountered him once and I will encounter him again. This isn't new to me. I'd understand."

"Undestand, maybe. But that wouldn't be the problem," Charlie said, running his hand through his hair. He exhaled through his nose and frowned. Aimee raised her eyebrows at this. What was the big deal with it? If there was one thing that killed her, it was not knowing, it was people telling her, to put it bluntly, that they had this big secret and then refusing to tell her, beating around the bush with stupid little hints such as that. And it hurt her to feel like Adelaide and Charlie knew something but didn't want her to know it.

"After I told you, you wouldn't trust me," Charlie stated. He was avoiding eye contact.

"Would I, Charlie? You know me," Aimee said angrily, "Charlie, look at me!" She cupped her hand under his chin and turned it roughly to her. "Do you seriously think that whatever you'd tell me would change our friendship that drastically?"

Charlie stared into her eyes and slowly lifted his hand to meet hers on his chin. He pried it off gently and placed it back in her lap. Then he stood up, hands deep into pockets and walked up to the balcony a few feet in front of them. He looked down at the glistening lake. His breath came out in white puffs in front of him because of the cold. Aimee rubbed her arms and watched him. "It would change it that much, Aimee."

Aimee stood up in anger. Did he really think she was naïve and unable to handle it? She knew what Voldemort was capable of doing, but did he really think it would shock her so much she'd stop trusting him?

"Charlie," Aimee said angrily, "Cut the crap. I've dealt with Voldemort before. I don't want to sound conceited, but I'm Aimee Potter. My whole world revolves around him." She laughed bitterly at this.

Charlie turned to look at her. "All the more reason not to tell you. It's because of that I can't tell you."

Aimee was truly taken aback by this. Her breathing accelerated and a million things of what could have happened whizzed through her head. She took a step back. Then her hand rose and she whipped her wand out of –where else?- her cleavage. Charlie blinked in surprise.

Everything was falling into place. The huge secret he intended to keep from her, the times he'd been missing for days, gaining her trust so he could squeeze out any information…

"So that night," Aimee started, her voice shaking, "when your sister died, you became a Death Eater? To stop Voldemort from doing anymore damage? From what, killing you?"

"Aimee, don't-" Charlie started in a warning voice, holding up his hands, palms outward. He started walking toward her but Aimee waved her hand menacingly and he stopped short.

"You aren't denying it," Aimee said in a low, dangerous voice. She was breathing hard, her chest heaving up and down. "And to think of all the things I told you." Her vision blurred, and Aimee blinked several times before realizing she was close to tears.

"Aimee," Charlie started, his voice pleading, "Please. Listen to me. Lower your wand."

"You bastard," Aimee bit her lip, shaking her head. She refused to cry. "You're a spy." Her brain was already shifting through the dozens of spells she knew, deciding which to use on Charlie.

"Aimee, I'm not a Death Eater!" Charlie said, his voice low and urgent.

"I don't believe you," Aimee stated angrily, and a look of hurt crossed Charlie's face. He made as if to add something, but Aimee demanded, "Where have you been all those nights you said you were sick? You weren't really. You disappeared for two, sometimes three days."

It was all falling into place now. Charlie's secret. But her life, the one she'd had since last year, was falling apart.

"Aimee…"

"If you don't tell me right now where you were, I do intend to jinx you, Charlie, so, for your own good, elaborate." She flicked her wrist and waited in expectation.

"I am not a Death Eater, Aimee. What I am… it's not worse than that, but you won't trust me afterwards," Charlie said slowly, his jaw set. Aimee contempled on his words.

"Accio wand," She said softly, and a wand flew out of Charlie's pocket and over her shoulder. It landed with a clanging noise behind her. She wondered why he hadn't armed himself against her, and she decided he was telling the truth. If Charlie were a Death Eater, he would know dark spells and would have already done something to her. She slowly walked towards him, always keeping her wand pointed at his chest. When she was close enough, she gestured for his arm with her free hand. He lifted it, and she took it, lifting up his sleeve roughly. She stared at the blank piece of skin and then looked up at Charlie furtively. She said a spell in a low voice, and she and Charlie stared each other down until the spell took its effect. She looked down at his wrist again. No Dark Mark. No skull with a snake on it.

"Apparently, you aren't a Death Eater," Aimee remarked venomously. Her voice felt oddly cold and stinging. "Either that, or you know how to hide your Mark well."

"I'm not." Charlie agreed, his own voice low and hard.

"Care to tell me what you are, then?" She spat, dropping his hand non-too gently.

"No."

Aimee stared at Charlie in suprise. She had just accused him of being a Death Eater, and he still refused to tell her? If he was dangerous, then she had the right to know. She wasn't just anybody. Him keeping a secret this big from her could prove fatal damage to the war raging outside school grounds, for when she and Harry would confront Voldemort. Ignorance was not acceptable. She bit back a cruel remark, but thought better of it. This was Charlie she was talking to, not a stranger. She should know better than to resort to unnecessary comments.

"Figure it out." Charlie growled, looking down at her, then side-stepped her and walked past, "Try not to be a bitch about it."

Aimee whirled around and gaped after Charlie's retreating form, recuperated wand in his hand. His words had stung, and he knew it had hurt her. She hastily brushed the back of her hand against her cheek and breathed deeply. He wasn't worth crying, she told herself. He wasn't worth trusting.

He wasn't worth a friend, she thought to herself defiantly. And with that, she stormed inside.

A/N: What do you think? I think you all have a good idea of what Charlie was talking about. But, you know, for the good of me, guess wrong so I can feel I've done a good job on the suspense. Yeah. Review!