Twenty-Six

"She walked into the room
Leaving all her lovers in her trail
And all that glitters fades
With the garlands round her frame
Out where the journey turns
Another river runs and I'm amazed,
You're the one, locking on
Like a memory
And it's good to feel you near."

Runrig, "Something's got to give"

Orion:

"Hello Bryony", I say, bowing low and placing a kiss on the back of her hand. I'm nervous. Just be friendly... I was relieved when she finally agreed to accompany me to the annual British Magical Press Ball. Turning up without her would have marked the ultimate scandal and I need this ball to cultivate my valuable contacts to various influential people. Not being there or not being entirely focused would be disastrous.

"Save the effort, Orion, we're not there, yet", she's answering me, very coldly. I look up. She's wearing one of her most expensive robes, a clear-blue one I bought her shortly before she had thrown me out. Obviously she's trying to impress someone – and I have a suspicion it might not be me. I frown.

"Let's get going, shall we?" she's saying, almost pulling me to the apparition point. She's definitely nervous about something. But surely she wouldn't cause trouble, would she? I'm trying to slow down our steps. She knows how important this evening is and she promised me to play along. But I have my doubts now... maybe playing along meant something else to her than to me.

The next second we've already apparated to the official apparition point of the ball. Red carpet is waiting. I can already see the photographers standing at both sides of the entrance and people posing. A glance sideways tells me that Bryony is showing her best smile, obviously ready to go. I take her hand, take a deep breath and start walking.

Somehow it doesn't feel as glamorous and important as it had the last few years. Back then, I had been one of the Daily Prophet's shooting stars. Now, the ultimate question seems to be whether I'll be showing up with my wife or alone. A hush goes through the ranks when we reach the carpet. I can hear people whispering. "She's with him" or "the Yaxleys" and soon the questions from the yellow press start floating. "One comment on the rumours about the condition of your marriage!" or "Did you reconciliate?" or even "Mrs. Maycroft-Yaxley, what do you think of Lucinda Carrows articles?" But we just ignore them, smile and wave.

Just when we reach the entrance and I'm about to take another deep breath to renew the smile on my face, I turn around and see Lavinia arrive. I... wow. She's walking towards the photographers and you have to know her well to see that she's not as secure as she looks. I automatically smile. She looks beautiful... breathtaking in her turquoise robes and this thing she's done with her hair. I think I've never seen her dressed up before. She should do that more often. And the crowd just loves her.

I'm glad I convinced her to come, just for the sight of it. It's already worth the effort. I haven't seen her in London after we had left Norfolk; she had gone to visit her parents. The last evening at the manor had been surprisingly cosy. We had been sitting in the small salon. At first, I had tried to write while she was reading, but in the end, we had been sitting by the fireplace, reading to each other until we were so tired we had to stop to prevent us from falling asleep on the sofa again.

"What are you waiting for?" My wife gets me back to reality faster than I can blink. "Who are you looking at?" I clear my throat and turn around.

"Nobody. Let's get going. I hope they stop bothering us with those questions. Don't you?"

Surprisingly, she's even going for this. Not in a good way... "Are you actually scared?" I can see the hideous smile on her face. "Come on, we don't want them to notice." The way she's smiling I suspect that she would want people to notice. Oh crap. Please, just let us get it over with nicely and smoothly.

Of course it doesn't stop when we get in. Before we even can get a drink, there's already the Junior Undersecretary of the Minister standing in front of us, asking us if we had sorted out our difficulties. He's an important contact, so we have to exchange niceties and even comment on the rumours ("they're making a fuss about nothing, really"). It starts to prove annoying. Everywhere I go, nobody wants to talk about business, politics or even just the weather with me. All they're interested in is that stupid yellow press subject.

Even more annoying is the fact that my wife is immensely enjoying herself, smiling at every man we meet, even kiss their cheeks as a greeting – while I'm standing next to her, wondering whom she has already slept with in the past and who's maybe even speculating on a close encounter later tonight. It's commonly known after all that we use to split up after a while on parties like this, me networking on business, she... enjoying herself, a little more than I had obviously thought.

After everyone had arrived – I'm regularly looking out for Lavinia, but she's never anywhere close to me – I have to present the Daily Prophet Award for Outstanding Service to our Community. It sounds impressive, but it has become exceedingly boring. The award – voted by the readers of the Daily Prophet and sponsored by my Political Department – has gone to Mr. and Mrs. Ronald and Hermione Weasley for five years in a row, and I know for a fact that they're going to receive it this year as well.

So, I have to get on stage and make some kind of laudation speech for a couple I neither like nor think deserves the award. Well, maybe better them than Harry Potter again, like the years after his victory over you-know-who – that "hero" has finally got his lifetime achievement award and has retired from public view since he's become a father.

Thankfully, it doesn't take more than five minutes to present the award and everything goes well. They're used to getting it I'm used to giving it, no big deal. And now, I'm free to go talk to Lavinia. Because the award normally is the signal to Bryony and me going separate ways for the evening, and I suppose she's craving it as much as I am.

I leave the stage as fast as I can without appearing to be rude. The next Award happens to be Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile, presented by Lucinda Carrow and I'm not interested in another, however harmless, encounter with that woman, in particular not on stage and not now. It's enough already that people keep asking me about this horrible article she wrote – some even had the guts to ask me if it was true... the pictures are pretty clear, I think, and I'm not commenting on the rest.

When I reach to bottom of the stage stairs however, I almost bump into my wife. "Wonderful", she's telling me, still smiling that sickeningly sweet artificial smile she's so good at. "Let's have a drink and a good talk outside on the balcony." WHAT? I'm startled. Why on earth does she want to have a drink, let alone talk to me, now of all times?

"Can't it wait until we get home? We can leave early, if you..." I'm offering, but she won't have it.

"Nonsense, sweetie", she's never called me that before, what is she up to? "Get us a drink. I'm waiting for you outside." I want to turn around and plan not to get back to her for a while, but she's obviously foreseen my reaction. "And don't you dare ignoring it..." she's whispering in my ear now. "Remember that I know things other people might be interested in. See you on the balcony."

What, is she seriously blackmailing me? But I obviously have no choice... we haven't talked in over two months, why now? Why here? While I'm going to the bar to get drinks I'm looking out for Lavinia. She's talking to another woman; it might be a team mate of hers. I'm trying to make eye contact with her to communicate my situation, but after she's caught my gaze for just a split second, she's demonstratively looking away. What have I done?

There's no time to worry about her at the moment, though, because Bryony is waiting. I would rather have gone to Lavinia and asked her what was going on, but I know that Bry's threat hasn't been empty. I take the two glasses of champagne and go to the balcony, where my not-too-lovely wife is already waiting for me, leaning against the wall in a remote corner. "Thank you very much, that's so nice of you", she says with a heavy dose of irony in her voice while she's taking the glass from me.

"Would you please enlighten me what this is all about? You know how important this ball is for me. I couldn't talk business with anybody and it's running late!" Granted, I am a little desperate.

"First, I want to speak a toast to our marriage", she's holding up her glass, looking at me with a mock smile on her face. I roll my eyes.

"If you insist." I lift the glass, too.

"You wouldn't want the yellow press see us here and think we're not close anymore, would you?" Stop smiling, it's ugly.

"No, I don't. Now, tell me what's going on. If you're just here to annoy me, we could simply go home." I suspect that if someone from the yellow press would hear us at the moment, we would have the scandal anyway.

"No, we're staying. I need to be sure you're listening to me closely." ... as if I couldn't do this at home. I shift a little uneasy and look around. "Relax, no one is coming here, I've seen to that. I want to ask you something..." her smile isn't so self-satisfied anymore. "Have you ever loved me?"

"What stupid question is that?" I blurt out. I'm slightly panicking here. Bryony has never asked such weird questions before. I thought we were clear on that.

"Is it stupid because you have or because you haven't?" her voice sounds hard and she's looking at me coldly. She's got her arms folded in front of her chest. I'm definitely panicking now. I'm simply staring at her and I have no idea what the right answer to this question is.

"So you haven't", she's concluding and for the first time this evening she's actually looking a tiny bit desperate.

"I didn't say that", I say, even though she's right, and even though I thought she had known and accepted the arrangement and the circumstances of our marriage when it had been made.

"You didn't say the opposite, either" she hasn't moved an inch.

"I... I liked you. Isn't that enough for you?" Why the heck is she bringing up such a sentimental topic? I have no idea where this is leading. We were friends, we were purebloods, we weren't Death Eaters – it was a perfect match, end of story. No need for...

She's definitely looking disappointed now. "It isn't..." she's taking a deep breath. "Because I have." WHAT? I think I'm just staring at her in disbelief. Is she just telling me...? "I had a crush on you since our first year at Hogwarts and I've been in love with you when you asked me to marry you." I'm speechless. She, on the other hand, is staying surprisingly calm, as if she had planned to tell me this for a long time. She LOVED me? How did that happen? How could this be?

"You're kidding." It dawns on me. This can only be some stupid joke. And she had me there, for a minute. "You must be kidding." Come on, leave it, you had a good laugh on me but it's over, I'm the jerk...

"I'm not kidding." She's still looking very serious, even a bit threatening. "And I don't find it remotely funny." I survey her sceptically, but she doesn't move an inch and she's definitely not joking. Shit! It was there and I put my foot directly in it. I don't know what to say to that... this comes as quite of a shock.

"But..." I shake my head, "but you... you cheated on me, didn't you? You told me you have been having affairs practically since our marriage. How could you do this, if you... did have... certain feelings for me?" I'm stammering. Again. That's no good sign.

"Come on, it's not so difficult to say that I loved you – certain feelings... honestly", I see she's getting worked up. "So you can't figure out why I cheated, really? Merlin, I can't believe that I had been so blind and thought you were intelligent."

I roll my eyes again and fold my arms in front of my chest, too, mimicking her position. "Just... tell me. You're obviously dying to do so." Whatever she says, she's definitely not in love with me now, the way she's treating me. And for some reason, she's rolling her eyes – for a brief moment I have the impression that she's considering the option to just leave me here without further explanation. "Go on... I'm curious." She's rolling her eyes again. "Believe me, I am." And let's get it over with.

"You're an idiot, Orion Yaxley and absolutely blind for every romantic feeling there is", she has the guts to say. That's not nice of you. She's putting the almost empty glass on the floor, putting a refill-charm on it, then, she's stepping in front of me on the balcony like she would be stepping on a stage. It looks a lot like she had been planning this.

"Hear the sad and true story of Bryony Maycroft", she's announcing and I wholeheartedly wish that she would be less melodramatic about it. But it suits her to do something like that. I open my mouth to tell her to be more discreet, but she's waging her finger to indicate me not to. "You hear me out, or I'm stepping on stage and tell the entire party. And believe me, there are a lot of people interested." Fine, have it your way. I lean against the wall, watching her and barely hiding my annoyance.

"I know it's unbelievable now, but I had developed a crush on you almost the minute I first saw you on the Hogwarts Express. You have been sophisticated, charming, well-mannered" she suddenly has a dreamy look on her face "and you seemed to be more mature than any of the boys of our age. I can't think why a girl like me couldn't fall for that. But you didn't seem overly interested." I had no idea. I had just... no idea. And I can't really see where all this could lead to her cheating on me.

"I did everything I could to get closer to you. And it worked..." she's frowning and I can't believe that she had been so calculating. "We became friends" – again, she has a dreamy smile on her face – "you started to confide in me, I was thrilled. And the more time we spent together, the more I loved you. You weren't easy to be with, you're very hard on everyone, and most on yourself – but I admired you... deeply."

There, she sighs. "And then you proposed to me." Oh my Goodness, what a mistake I made there. If I had known! She's got a mad sparkle in her eyes. "I was at the goal of my dreams", her smile sobers up. "I knew, of course, that you hadn't proposed because you loved me, you made yourself quite clear." It's my turn to sigh... in relieve. She's glaring at me. "Stop it. I thought that even if you didn't share my feelings then, you would come along once we were bound together. I imagined you would care for me..." her voice drops. "like you promised."

"But I didn't..." I say, feeling increasingly guilty.

"No, you didn't." She's confirming coldly. "You threw yourself into work, you were rarely at home and if you were... you showed no special interest in me." Well... yes, that about sums it up. I've never seen anything bad in that.

"I thought you would want your freedom!" I exclaim.

And she: "No! All I wanted was you!"

Please, this just... can't be true. I frown. My marriage is even more messed up than I believed. "I tried to get your attention, but you weren't reacting. So... when I met a nice Canadian Ministery Official at a party... I took the chance. I... don't know what I have been thinking. He was attractive and reasonably charming and I thought that if you'd get jealous... you would find out what you really have in me... and you would love me back."

That's the most ridiculous explanation for cheating I've ever heard. I'm actually upset about it. "You're actually blaming me for you cheating on me?"

"Technically", she's answering, shrugging. "Because you didn't react. You didn't even find out! So, when I met another man at the next party... I did it again. You didn't find out." I gulp.

"Yeah, I get the idea", I say, but she won't have it.

"No, I don't think so. At first, they were only random acquaintances, but after a while, when you didn't react..." she's got a mean smirk on her face. "I went for your friends. You can't imagine how much all those love-craving purebloods longed for a little adventure." I'd rather not know. That's disgusting. "Or maybe you do know, seeing as you had more passion left for Lucy than you ever had for me!"

"Come on, Bryony! How many times did you cheat on me and you're mad at me for ONE single time?" I'm screaming at her. I don't know what she did that nobody has come here, yet.

"It was significant!" she's crying back, walking up and down in front of me.

"Why would it be significant?" I'm trying to calm her down, because I don't want to risk any more trouble. She's taking some deep breaths and after a few moments, she's standing in front of me, composed again.

"After it didn't work cheating on you to win you, Lucy suggested-"

"WHAT? That... gal actually set it UP?" I'm going to destroy her, I'm absolutely going to destroy her...

"Yes, Lucy."

"I can't believe-"

"Shut up! She suggested that I should find an occasion to throw you out, that you would miss me, see what you had in me. I didn't believe her. And I was right. You did amuse yourself with Linda, Lavinia and Lucinda!" Oh no, not with me.

"You didn't actually believe her stories!"

She's smirking. "That you seduced them? Nah, that's bullshit. But you can't deny that she has seen you with the two of them, and taken pictures and you cannot deny that she tricked you into sleeping with her, either!" Tricked me into it is exactly the right wording if you ask me.

"You got it exactly right. Yes, I did. But what do you expect from me? That I come back to you after everything you did? You told me you cheated on me and threw me out just because you suspected that I could have met another woman... how do you think this is going to work?" She's looking me up intensely.

"Have you met another woman that night?" I avoid her gaze.

"Not exactly." She's positively glaring at me.

"What do you mean?" Annoyed, I look back at her, very determined.

"Not that it would count in this, but yes, I have met another woman, and no, it hadn't been anything remotely like cheating because it was only a friend I hadn't seen in a long time..."

"... and you slept with her." It's my turn glaring at her.

"No, I didn't."

"Whatever. Who is she?"

I'm definitely not going there. "That's none of your business." Her glare gets replaced by a sarcastic smile.

"Right. If she's so unimportant to you, why don't you tell me who she is? There's no problem in meeting old friends, is there?" I don't like that smile, actually. She'd been less intimidating when she had been glaring.

"You are right, there is no problem. I'm still not going to tell you because it's a private matter."

"Private, is it?" the smile broadens. "Have you seen her again?" I'm not answering that. No way. But whenever I don't answer, she's guessing. "So you have." I'm keeping silent, it's better if she's just guessing, rather than knowing. I must have blushed a little... purely because I got so worked up, nothing... serious. "I can't believe it", Bryony is taking some steps back, shaking her head. "I can't believe it. Is it possible? You? You of all people?" I roll my eyes.

"What's the matter now?" She's grinning. It's an ironic smile I know only too well.

"You're in love. You... you never came down loving me... but this other woman... how long? How long has this been going on?"

"I'm not!" What the hell is she thinking? This is outrageous. I mean, yes, I did spend a lot of time with her recently and we had a really nice Christmas, but that doesn't mean I'm in love with her or something.

"You're smiling. Is she here tonight?" I can already see Bryony forging plans of revenge. I have to protect this.

"I don't know. Leave it. It is actually possible to be friends with someone without being in love with that person. Just because you were unable to do that, doesn't mean everyone-" She's again glaring at me.

"Stop talking right now! I don't deserve this. Not from you!" She's gesturing nervously in front of me. "You already ruined my life and my family - you're not going to insult me for my mistakes, too!"

Wow. Actually... I feel a small rush of guilt. She has a point in that... I did kind of ruin her life... and her family; even though it hadn't strictly been my fault. I could have been more attentive... maybe I would have detected... I sigh and breathe deeply. My wife is still standing in front of me, also breathing rather heavily. I suddenly feel sorry for her. Life had some really bad surprises for her... and, after all, if I say something about it... she would probably forget about Lavinia for the moment.

"Listen, Bry..." I take a few steps towards her. She's looking up, uncertain. "I'm sorry for what happened. I wouldn't have married you if I had known." I can hear her gulp audibly and when I look into her eyes I realise that she's crying. Oh, please, don't do that. I don't know what to do... put my hand on her shoulder a little tentatively and she's putting her head against my chest.

"It was... all... I wanted..." she's sobbing. This is awkward. Why is she crying... I've never seen her cry before. I'm not even patting her shoulders or anything, like I should.

"Shhh, calm down." It doesn't work. She's still sobbing. I... what should I do? I'm not in the position to comfort her. "Bry... please." No reaction. I catch a glimpse of my watch... almost midnight, almost New Year. "Listen... get yourself together. It's close to midnight. We're supposed to be in there." No reaction. I try it in a little more firm voice... I remind myself unpleasantly of my father. "Get a grip! You're a Pureblood!" She's pulling away from me, staring at me in disbelieve.

Well, at least, she has stopped crying. She shakes her head a few times and cleans away the tears. After breathing deeply a few times, she's composed again. "Let's go back", she declares in a determined voice.

I open the door for her and take her hand. The others are just about to start the countdown. 10... 9... 8... 7... "would you kiss me one last time?"... 4... 3... I have no time to think... by New Year I'm bending down and kiss her. One last time. It feels weird, knowing that she had loved me for a long time, and knowing that I hadn't... and still don't. Even now I feel she's a little desperate about the situation.

When we break apart, she's not saying anything, only taking my hand, indicating me to follow her to the exit. I can't even take the risk to look out for Lavinia again or gesturing her that I'll talk to her about it later.

Lavinia:

Well… this is a little weird. But the Annual British Magical Press New Year's Ball is weird every time I attend. Which is every once in a blue moon, but never mind. Anyway… I've just arrived at the apparition point and I have the gown, I have the hairdo, I even have a necklace and a teeny tiny little purse. I'm looking ridiculous. Still… you promised Orion you would go out, meet people, make them see everything is alright with you. You promised. Now, chin up, back straight, smile plastered on.

Face the music, come on. One step after another… there's a good girl. And as I set the first foot on the red carpet it gets even weirder. Cameras are flashing all around me, and journalists behind the lanes shout stuff at me. Still with the smile plastered on, I turn around into the direction, and the cameras are flashing again. Then a guy I vaguely remember from the press conference in October shoots me a grin and calls: "You look great today, Lavinia! Still need an escort?" Usually my first reaction would be to frown and then to tell the insolent brat to shut up, but tonight that's a totally no-go.

So I smile a little brighter and just call back: "Don't try to use me as your ticket to the rich and famous!" The bunch of journalists is actually laughing, and it's kinda… infectious. All of a sudden my smile isn't plastered anymore. It's real. Huh? Who would have thought walking along the stupid red carpet could be any fun?

After some more… errr… flirting with the crowd – at least I think that's what they call it – I finally make my way to the entrance. I'm not really keen on entering, though, because I know what's awaiting me inside: Journalists – and lots of them – all wanting to know if I will stay on the teams, various acquaintances from the war or School all eager to see and confirm all they've read on Witch Weekly, a huge amount of self-important pureblood lobbyists... and Orion, together with Bryony, keeping up appearances just one last time. I mean, it's not really bothering me, it's… alright, who am I trying to kid? It is bothering me, but…

"Lavinia!" No. No, Merlin, please, no. Please do not let Helena Chiverston-Althorpe be the first one to greet me here. Not her. Of all the people you could have chosen… "I'm so glad you could come." Eek, what are you doing, Chiverston? She's touching my shoulders and blowing kisses on both my cheeks. Stupid social events where you are not allowed to give people who trespass your personal space a very thorough wigging. Instead I'm forced to smile at her and pretend I'm actually happy to see her.

"Well, yes, me too. Err…"

Now her eyes grow large in mock horror and she drops her voice to a conspicuous whisper: "I really thought you wouldn't come. What with everyone's favourite pureblood couple reunited again and everything." Oh, I'm very sure they're your favourite pureblood couple alright.

"Actually, I have no idea what you're talking about…" She wants to interrupt me – didn't anyone teach you any manners, you little hell-spawn? – but we're both cut short by the announcement that now there will be several awards given away. Ah, and another reason I always tried to avoid attending the Press Ball. Endless rows of stupid, boring laudations, every year the same faces up there… yawn.

The first award is the one for Outstanding Service to Our Community, and I'm sure it'll be a big surprise at who will get it this year. It's Orion holding the laudation and giving it away, and I manage to ignore Chiverston's jabbering quite well. I know I shouldn't but I even feel a little sympathy for Orion because he has to give the award to Ron and Hermione Weasley, the fifth or fourth time in a row. I mean, I don't have a problem with either of them because they seemed decent enough at Hogwarts, but I'm sure Orion doesn't really hold them in high esteem. Having to give away that stupid award to two Gryffindors year after year is surely hurting his little pureblood soul a lot.

Indeed the whole thing does seem rather hurried, and I wonder if he's practically falling down the stairs only because this whole thing must bugger him to no end or because the next award will be given away be none other than Miss Lucinda Carrow. I try to establish eye contact with him, but this time Chiverston's blabbering gets through. "I know for a fact they'll give the award to dear Oliver this year." Dear Oliver is in fact Oliver Wood, our Keeper. I'm a little surprised but I guess it makes sense to give the Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award to him. He's so in love with the game he doesn't even realise all the swooning women he leaves in his trails.

"Well, that's nice for him, then." Still not really paying attention to Chiverston, but trying to reach… Orion. And stopping. Bryony has found him again, looking a little harassed and trying to talk him into something. What… does she want from him? And Merlin, why do I care? Abruptly I decide to stop looking at them and turn back to Chiverston. Oh, wait, didn't I just see Orion looking at me?

"By the way, Lavinia, you look so beautiful tonight." Huh? I try to concentrate on Chiverston again. Something in her tone says she's up to something mean. Again. "I mean… I really love the dress… the colour so compliments your eyes." I look at her a little bewildered and thank her awkwardly, not really trusting her, and indeed she gets on with her blabbering. "And what you did with your hair… I do think that this is the first time you ever actually look like a woman." Wha…? Wham. Just like that. Sneaking up on you and then jumping for the kill. I want to throttle her. Right now, and right here.

Why does she do this? What exactly did I do to her to deserve this? Why can't she… "Lav… Mrs McNeil, what a surprise to see you here!" Oi. Saved by the bell. Or Benjamin Addington, respectively. He's a middle-aged wizard, my mother's boss, to be precise. I've always liked him and right now I could kiss him. But, alas, where are my manners?

"Actually I'm a little surprised about that as well, Mr Addington. Please allow me to introduce you to a team mate of mine. Helena, this is Mr Benjamin Addington, Head of the Department of Toxicology at St. Mungo's. He works with my mother. Mr Addington, this is Helena Chiverston-Althorpe, the Montrose Magpies' Seeker and wife of Aldrich Althorpe." Chiverston smiles her "I'm so delighted to meet you."-smile and plays the proper little lady.

But before she can start the conversation again, she's called to the stage where someone is actually giving her the award for Sportsperson of the Year. Sheesh, who's the one selecting those at the Prophet? Because, really, Oliver or that Beater at Puddlemere United would have been first choice if they actually gave the award to someone who achieved something in Sports.

Anyway… "You seem a little distracted, La… Mrs McNeil." I blink. Oh. Right. Mum's boss still standing beside me. I turn towards him and smile at him.

"I'm sorry, Mr Addington. And please… you've known me even before I could talk. Please call me Lavinia." He smiles in return, offering his apologies for not being sure how to address me now that I'm a grown-up.

"So… what's distracting you so much, Lavinia?" I eye him a little suspicious.

"You weren't sent here by my mother to keep an eye on me, right?" He laughs whole-heartedly, and I just have to join him. Still laughing he shakes his head to assure me he wasn't. I still smile, turning my head back into the room. "Actually… I'm looking for someone. A… friend of mine. I just kind of lost his sight and…"

He's suddenly grown serious. Huh? "If you mean that Yaxley-boy…" Goodness gracious, did even my mum's boss read these stupid articles? I just bet now comes a very fatherly attitude, telling me this "boy" isn't good enough for me and how I should… "He left for the balcony. With his wife. Are you sure you know what you're doing, Lavinia?"

I take a deep breath. The balcony. With Bryony. In the middle of the Press Ball. Orion would never leave the field before the battle is ended, and such an important field at that, if it wasn't for something really important. So obviously suddenly salvaging his marriage became even more important to him than taking care of all his contacts. Plus, he just has to know his and Bryony's leaving will be noticed, and not just by a few bystanders. He… he wants them to see this. Wants them to think he and Bryony actually…

I take another deep breath. Norfolk was great. It was kinda… deep and nice, especially the last evening. I do think I never had a guy reading something to me before. But that's all it was: Nice. All in friendship. Nothing else. Whatever may have come, I will end this, here and now. We had this undefined-feelings thing once before, and it ended badly. Better crush every feeling that may be there before it gets too hot. I turn to Mr Addington again.

"Yes. I know exactly what I'm doing."

He must have realised what just went through my head because he doesn't pry anymore, just takes my arm and says good-naturedly: "I do have some people I'd very much like to introduce you to. There are a few very nice young gentlemen among them." He winks at me and I can't help but smile back. Orion was right. I have to stop living in the past.

"I would very much like to get to know them."

Then, suddenly, after a few rounds of flirting and a certain amount of alcohol – I'm not drunk, alright – the though of Orion reconciling with his wife doesn't exactly let me cold, but at least has stopped to be the only thing on my mind. Actually, "the very nice young gentlemen" Benjamin had been talking about turned out to be a bunch of very witty and charming young healers.

And now suddenly it's almost midnight, and I'm just on my way back from the ladies' room to the Healer pack, when people start counting down from ten. At eight, I suddenly feel a hand on my shoulder, at five there's a voice whispering "Hello, Lavinia. Long time, no see." in a heavy Russian accent into my ear, at three I suddenly see Orion and Bryony coming back into the room and Orion moving in to kiss her… I actually have to close my eyes at that sight. Which is why at everyone's "Happy New Year!" I'm kissed full on the lips quite unexpectedly.

Slightly bewildered I open the eyes again, and for a moment I have no idea who's standing in front of me, smiling quite pleased with himself. He's tall, lean, with short black hair and dark brown eyes that are twinkling. Uh… should I know that guy? And why in all heavens is some bloody stranger taking the liberty of kissing me right in front of all these people? "Excuse me, sir, but I don't think we've been already introduced to each other." I manage to say in an ice-cold tone that would have done Orion pride.

"Ah, but Lavinia… don't you recognize your old friend Boreas?" he replies with all the flourish and the drama obviously only Russians can display. Or, well… only Boreas can display. I guess I must be looking like a deer caught in headlights, because now I do recognize him alright. He's just a little older, just a little broader, just a little… rougher than he was at Hogwarts. It… suits him.

I break out into a full-grown grin. "Of course I do! I just… what are you doing here?" All of a sudden I feel very giddy. For some reason Boreas always made me feel that way. He flashes me a grin, and I bet he rehearsed that about a thousand times and tested it on every woman he came across until it had exactly the desired affect. At least he used to be like that.

"I… have been in the country, and seeing as I used to know some folk at the Ministry… everyone says the Press Ball is the event, so naturally I had to be here. And I haven't been disappointed." He winks at me, and for some reason that makes my knees actually go weak for a moment. What exactly am I doing here?

"Not even by the Awards?" I shoot him a questioning look, finding myself bewildered at how coquettish I can be. Oi, Lavinia, get a grip. He used to be a School crush. No, not even that. He just… liked to flirt with you and flatter you and…

"Well, there was the first one, that with the Service to the Community… I found the laudation quite boring…" The one Orion held. Mh. Can teenager grudges really hold that long? "But otherwise… yes, I liked it. Not as grand as the Ministry's Yolka-Ball in Moscow, but still… very stylish. And now that the company improved so much…" Another grin and a seductively raised eyebrow. Here, ladies and gentlemen, is a man who actually knows how to flirt and how to compliment.

I know I'm blushing a little, but from the look on his face, he likes that. "I think I can say the same with absolute sincerity." Whoa, McNeil since when do you know how to flirt like that? Instead of saying anything he reaches out and tucks one of the tiny strands that have escaped the hairdo behind my ears.

Then, very softly, and with a carefully put on wistful smile: "Ten years and you are still as beautiful as in Hogwarts… no, you're even more beautiful." Before I can say anything he leans down again to plant another kiss on my lips, very briefly but with some kind of…promise. Blushing now. Heavily. Need to hide somewhere.

"Oh… I… thank you." And there goes the eloquence. "I think… I have to excuse myself for a moment… just… stay here. Don't run away."

He just smiles as he answers: "Not in a million years, Lavinia. Now that I found you again." Sheesh… that one's a charmer alright. Desperately need to get something cool in my face… maybe the sweet-talk dose was a little high for someone who didn't get any real compliments from guys in about five years.

Restrooms… finally. Merlin, what are all these women doing here? Just need to get to the washing basins… oh, great, ha, that one's mine! Water… "You know… if you absolutely have to go for a Slytherin then at least take the decent one", a voice I haven't heard since graduating drawls into my ear and I jerk up. There, in front of me, stands the one and only Miss Lucinda "I love to ruin other people's lives" Carrow in her shiny dress and curly blond hair, smirking at me.

Great. Just great. The woman who somehow started all this bloody mess, and all I can do is stare at her and have no clue whatsoever what she's talking about. She raises an eyebrow. "Cat got your tongue, Lavinia?" How dare she talk to me like that? Her of all people! I… I…

"Listen, you b…" She gives me another smirk and a mocking look.

"Ah, ah, ah, language! And heed my advice. Otherwise… don't say I didn't warn you." I look around, taking another breath for a sentence far fouler than what I'd wanted to say before but when I want to look her in the eye she's suddenly gone. What in all Heavens has just been happening here? I shake my head. Too weird to think about that. Do it and your head will explode. Just some water in your face and back to Boreas andstop bloody thinking about this bloody encounter.

A/N: Enter Boreas... a true Nemesis to every well-meaning and ambitious author. And to me as well, of course. He's really yucky to write, but he serves a purpose. Just wait and see.