Previously

Potter watched uselessly as a messy scene unfolded in front of everyone in the Leaky Cauldron.

"You want to go there, Flint?" he spat.

"Bring it on, Adams!" I shouted. Nobody insulted me, and I would fight until I was bloody and bruised to a pulp.

When he shoved my shoulders, knocking me back a step, Jemima stepped in between the two of us, scolding him. "Mr. Adams! We do not tolerate fightin' in the Leaky Cauldron, and we certainly will not accept bigger, stronger, older lads beatin' up ladies, even if they be provokin' them!"

Byron looked away from me, muttering a, "Yes, of course," and then a louder, "You better watch your back, Flint!" He and Gavin stalked out of the shabby pub.

Chapter 27 - Black Sylvia

He sat at the table quite uncomfortably, his peering gaze hidden behind his spindly fingers . Across the room, at the Slytherin table, sat Rosalie Flint. She looked grim, looking down at her food with discontent, holding her stomach as if she felt nauseous. She didn't even try taking a bite, for fear of not being able to keep it down.

She looked horrid, in all truth. The circles under her eyes had grown, and she had dropped at least half a stone since the beginning of the school year. That was terrible, considering she had nothing to lose in the first place. Her hair, becoming slightly brittle, was pulled into a messy and knotted up-do, and her dim hazel eyes lazily scanned the papers beneath her.

The beginning of the annual Hogwarts Quidditch tournament was this weekend, and it was stressful. All four houses were fighting for extra minutes on the pitch with their teams. The training was overpowering, and the studying was tiresome.

James watched her with mild curiosity. Rosalie was obviously planning out some strategies for the weekend, because she was doing that thing with her cheek; chewing on the inside of it mindlessly.

Millions of thoughts and emotions circulated through his head as he watched her. Contempt and scorn, along with an aching lust, all on top of a connection of sorts, a link that drew him in. He couldn't summarize what he felt for Rosalie in a single word if his dear life depended on it.

He'd always despised her, and she him. The rivalry that had existed, and still continued on, between them had been boiling hot and full of squabbling. But strangely, that sensation of friendship erupted, and he wanted to know more about her and her life. He had hated her for a majority of his time at Hogwarts, and he barely even knew why.

When she saved Lily, James had just been so lost. Didn't she, a mudblood-hating, Pureblood fanatic want the Potters to come to an end? But her actions showed a side to her that he didn't even know existed.

And the whole situation with Matthias and her family was just confusing and contorted, but in the end he was actually glad to have played some kind of role, no matter how minuscule, in reviving her.

In the end, they developed some sort of friend/enemy hybrid relationship. And honestly, James hadn't minded.

The friendship soon morphed, and he was angry with her. Not really, though. The twisted, overlapping feelings he felt towards her were just a total wreck. The anger, the frustration, the jealousy, and the affection. All mixed into one emotion that can't be described.

Then, he kissed her.

Oh, gods, that kiss. The absolute best kiss of James' life. No other one could have measured up to the raw adrenaline and rush that had consumed him as he kissed Rosalie. He'd been upset, then distraught, and then bam! The kiss just overrode everything.

But the rush did ware off, and he was left feeling like a fragile pillar holding up a kingdom. If he moved, everything he'd ever worked for would just crumble, and become a pile of rubble.

So, he swerved into another lane and began ignoring Rosalie.

It was difficult, because she was so ruddy stubborn. Her persistence was endless, and she kept pecking at him constantly.

He just didn't know how to feel, how to react. It was overwhelming, honestly. He thought that maybe, if he ignored her, his unknown feelings would go away. They would return to their aggressive rivalry, and life would go on. James would graduate from Hogwarts after only one more short year at school, and continue on with his life. Without Rosalie. Yet then, he might be unhappy. But he wasn't entirely sure.

Because if he chose to love her, than what would happen? At the end of one path was everything he'd planned out. But with Rosalie, all he saw was darkness. There was no way of telling what would happen in one year, five years, ten years... It was like jumping into an pitch black abyss of the unknown, with a single torch to guide you forever.

James was unsure of what to do. For the first time in his life, he felt like he didn't have all the right answers.

And it simply came down to choosing between what he wanted, and what was safe.


The mug scalded my bare hands as I carried a steaming hot mug of black coffee towards my dormitory. The smell was beautiful, and all I really wanted was to drop my school books and just gulp it down right then and there. But two things stopped me.

One, I was sure to get in trouble if I was caught after hours with a full mug of coffee. Two, I was also sure that I was being followed.

I might have been acting just plain paranoid, but I couldn't help listening to the discreet sound of voices and light footsteps behind me. As an excellent Quidditch player, I had heightened senses. Obviously, the two buffoons following me didn't know this, so I crossed out my first two suspects: James and/or Fred. They weren't too bright, but they certainly weren't daft.

Plus, James honestly had no reason to follow me.

So, I continued to walk quickly and hoped that I could reach the Slytherin dormitories before anything bizarre happened.

I was particularly burdened with work that night. Normally, I had all of my homework finished by curfew, but with the project that counted for a quarter of my Herbology grade, the extra Quidditch practice after supper, and the prefects meeting earlier that evening, my day had been indubitably hectic.

The Head Boy and Girl were particularly strict with the rules and meetings this time of the year. April First was rolling around the bend, and with it being the most straining day for prefects of the entire year, they were really cracking down.

Life was becoming harder and I felt like everything was closing in on me.

After searching and searching for a new one, I stumbled across Hans Havrehead, a Danish 5th year with a knack for playing as the keeper. He did wonderful, and we actually ended up winning that game. Unfortunately, he's been on my tail for the entire week, begging me to put him back in. Problem was that Galloway was now out of the infirmary, and he was keen on getting back in. Throw an anxious Madam Pomfrey into the mess and you have a giant web of uprising issues.

Along with that and preparing for the Quidditch tournament, I also had a heavy flow of homework to do, and studying for the End of the Year exams was tedious. On top of everything else, I also had work at the Three Broomsticks, a messy love/hate relationship with James that wasn't getting any easier, prefect duties, and trying to find a place to live for the summer. Because I sure as hell wasn't staying with the Potters, at the moment.

A long sigh hissed through my teeth, making a louder sound than possible.

By now, the coffee had cooled down considerably and it made me feel unhappy. After all, who wants to drink cold coffee?

I finally found my way to the dungeons and, quickly checking around to make sure nobody had actually followed me, I entered cautiously and quietly. Maybe I had been imagining the whole thing. With all of this work piling up, it was quite possible.

Setting up camp for the night in the common room, I began working on my Herbology project. I spent a lot of time in the common room because I hated being near Veronique and Georgiana. It was just better for me to stay out of the equation. Whenever I was around them, they were snide and crude, and always brought up people like Matthias and Blaze and stupid Cassandra Sinclair, just to aggravate me. They knew which buttons to press.

Chugging down some coffee like bona fide addict, I struggled to finish my assignments for Herbology. But finally I packed it away and pulled out my clipboard, containing all of my Quidditch strategies, rosters, plans and schedules. I reviewed everything, jotting down a few notes here or there. And after I finished up that, I crept up the stairs to my dormitory, and retreated to my bed.


Just one glance was enough for me to know what he was thinking. He was rather like an open book. And right now, he wasn't very happy with me.

Louis Weasley was confused, and I suppose I understood. Of course I did. I felt horribly guilty, just looking at him, but I couldn't myself to stand up, walk over to him, and apologize. I wasn't as humble as I wish I could be. Pride and guilt stood in between us like a brick wall, and all I had was a chisel.

I was afraid of confronting him. Would he be angry, or sad? I didn't know.

Did he like me, or were we just friends? That question's what was really keeping me back. I didn't want to hurt Louis, because he was too nice to hurt. He was the only friend I had after Christmas break, if I could even call our relationship a friendship. He wasn't at the same level as Jared was. Whether he was higher or lower, I wasn't sure. I just knew that I didn't feel the same way towards Louis as I did Jared.

Maybe I liked Louis. Not as much as James, but just enough to react this way. He was everything a bloke should be: respectful, intelligent, and kind.

This thought made me visibly cringe. Kate looked at me oddly, from across the library desk beside Jared. The idea of having feelings for Louis, other than friendship, should have been ludicrous in my mind. Instead, it made some sense, which was worse than just feeling guilty for ditching him for James.

Sighing audibly, I shut my Transfiguration notebook quietly and stood up. Looking down at Kate and Jared, whom I'd been studying with, I said, "I have to get to Quidditch practice. I'll see you two at the match tomorrow."

"Before or after Hufflepuff pummels Slytherin?" Jared asked, and I couldn't tell if he was kidding or not.

"That's funny," I said sarcastically.

Kate waves to me before I turn out of the library, careful not to meet Louis' inquiring gaze.

The sun, hiding behind a thick sheet of grey clouds, offers barely any warmth. I clutched my clipboard in one hand, and held my broom in the other as I walked over to my team, my cloaks billowing in the wind as it blew harshly. Flying was going to be difficult.

"Nice to have you back, Galloway," I said, nodding curtly at him. "Havrehead, shockingly, I'm not surprised to see you here."

Cadmus and Hans shared a dirty look, but didn't say anything to each other. I felt like rolling my eyes, but I just continued instead.

"Now, the Quidditch tournament begins tomorrow and if you want the trophy, you're going to have to fight for it. The other teams are getting feisty and aggressive. By the end of practice today, I'll have you all spitting fire," I shouted, looking them all dead in the eye. Then, pulling out my wand from it's pocket inside of my cloaks, I used it to line up some markers. "Let's start with warm-ups! Mount your brooms."

Practice lasted for over two hours, and it consisted on endless exercises and matches. I drilled them fiercely until they were covered with sweat, even in the chilled, early spring weather. I even pushed a complaint out of Vandevort, and I was more than pleased to shout an obscene comment back at her. Albus and Scorpius snickered at my retort, and Corrin shot them a grisly look.

After we had all landed back on the grass, in the center of the pitch, I told them, "I want to see you guys here, bright and early, Thursday morning. We have a lot to get done before the tournament begins. We're playing Hufflepuff this weekend."

"What a joke," Guff commented, guffawing. "We can squash that team like a bug."

The rest of the team seems to agree with Guffs statement.

"In the end, it's always the prideful who fall, Elliot Guff," I replied with a non-humorous tone of voice. "Never underestimate your opponents."

And I turned on my heel and sped off.

Making sure all of my equipment was stowed away in its proper place, I took off my constricting Quidditch robes in an effort to cool off. I dropped them on the floor of the closet as I packed away my broom with extra care.

I was eager to shower and get back to the castle. I was in the mood for a steaming mug of hot chocolate, which would indubitably be available in the kitchen. I was also starving for some good food.

Scrubbing my dirty skin with a sweet smelling soap, I let the hot water pound on my sore, aching muscles and trickle down my body. The sudden change of temperature, from the damp, muggy spring weather outside to the hot rush of the shower, was relieving.

Toweling off and then throwing on some loose-fitting and comfortable clothes, I left the locker room and started walking up towards the castle.

The sun had already set, and the sky was growing darker by the second. The moon was just visible, the ivory crescent beaming with majesty. It's rays weren't as harsh as the suns, but rather soft and delicate.

I was reminded of the twins Apollo and Artemis, Greek gods from thousands of years ago. Both owned a magnificent bow. Apollo's arrows stung like fire and seared painfully. Artemis' arrows were gentle and caressed the victim. Both were fatal, and the arrows represented the contrast between the ray of the sun and the beams of the moon.

Distracted, I didn't see the giant figures approaching me from behind. I didn't actually notice their presence until one drawled, in a low and gravely tone, "Hello, scum."

And then I was on the ground, the sting of a blow aching the side of my head. Breathless, I turned onto my back and looked up. It was still light enough to identify my attackers.

"Adams? Peterson?"

The huge Gryffindor boys peered down at me, both wearing expressions of disgust. "We warned you to watch your back, didn't we?"

I was baffled. I had not expected them to bother me again, as long as I didn't aggravate them again. Obviously, I had been wrong. I glared at them, hurrying to my feet with little grace. I lifted a hand to the side of my head, and realized that it was swelling. I subtly tried to reach into my pocket for my wand, but then realized I had left it in my Quidditch robes. I cursed mentally.

"Well, that's going to leave a mark," I said, attempting to stall.

Byron sneered, ignoring my remark. "You're not very observant, are you, little Slytherin?"

"Little?" I scoffed.

"We've been following you," Gavin said, pleased with himself.

"Following... you two were there! That night, I thought someone was following me," I said, my heart pounding wildly. My palms were starting to sweat. "But why?"

Byron smirked. "So I could do this, without getting caught." And he jabbed me right in the ribs.

I caught my breath, doubling over, and tried to bury the groan that was building up in my throat. He was holding back, I knew it. He was too big. If it hurt when he just jabbed me, I couldn't imagine what a full blown punch felt like.

"I'm meeting someone," I lied, right through my teeth. "Right up there, by those rocks." It was fluid and so realistic, I would have believed it myself.

But they didn't. "Slytherins, always lying," Byron laughed, without humor. It was chilling and it reminded me of Matthias' laugh, when he was angry. "Little Rosalie, when I said we'd been following you, I meant it. You're not meeting anyone. In fact, everyone still thinks you're at the pitch..."

It was now fully dark, and the sky had turned a dark shade of blue; just light enough that anyone knew the sun had just set. The stars were starting to glisten up above, shining against the darkness like diamonds against velvet. If I had been in any other situation, I would have been admiring the night sky. Instead, all I could do was stare at Byron and Gavin, waiting.

I barely knew them, and I didn't know what they were capable of. It had been so long ago, that afternoon at the Leaky Cauldron, nearly three or four months ago. And after the whole ordeal with Lily Luna, I had nearly forgotten their encounter. I couldn't even remember what I had said to them. They were obviously still pissed about it, though, so I must've given a really good hit at their egos.

Were they just going to beat me up, or would they go so far as to kill me?

Apparently, the answer was neither at the moment.

Because Byron took out his wand, and muttered a spell. Instantly, I was unconscious. I remember falling to the gravel, the crunch of the small pebbles under the weight of my body quiet, and then Byron saying to Gavin, "You grab her things, stuff them in the woods. I'll carry her."

And then, everything went black.

I wasn't out for long; the spell must have been very mild. I woke up to the sound of bugs chirping, and I even heard a wolf crying out in the distance. Vaguely, I realized where I was. And then, it hit me as hard as a buldger doing fifty.

The Forbidden Forest.

Struggling, I tried to move, but I was tied to something, bound with ropes and a fat lot of magic. A tree, it's sturdy and rough trunk rubbing harshly against my back. I looked around, my eyes darting from object to object, looking for anything that would help me. But it was dark, and all I could see were the shadows cast by the dim light of the moon.

I nearly screamed out for help, but then images of the creatures that lived in the Forbidden Forest flashed through my mind, and instantly I knew that would be a stupid choice. Especially at night.

My mind was racing, and my heart was beating beyond rapidly, savagely pounding inside of my chest. Panic was setting in as I turned my head as far to the side as I could, trying to recognize where I was, and how far away from the castle I could be.

Lost for ideas, I finally slammed my head against the tree, giving up, letting tears stream down my cheeks.


He glanced around anxiously, tapping his foot and drumming his fingers on the window pane by the bench. With a stifled sigh, he stood and approached Georgiana Ruthford, who was talking to Veronique across the library, without hesitance. Rosalie and Georgiana weren't friends any longer, but they were dorm mates. Maybe she knew.

"Have you seen Rosalie? We were supposed to start out rounds thirty minutes ago," James said to the pug-like Slytherin girl.

"I'm sorry, what gives you the right to talk to me?" she asked snobbishly, earning a giggle from Veronique.

James snapped, "Just tell me where the bloody hell she is."

Raising a thin, penciled eyebrow, she said, "I haven't seen Rosalie all day. She had Quidditch this evening, after supper, that's all I know."

Groaning audibly, James stalked away from the Slytherin girls. Of course, Rosalie must have ditched him for extra Quidditch practice. It was unprofessional of her, and it was unlike her to neglect her prefect duties, but she would do something like that, especially the week before the tournament began.

He started for the Quidditch pitch, running into a few people along the way. Among them were Byron Adams and Gavin Peterson. They were just walking into the castle as James made his exit. They were covered in dirt, and sweat had collected on their foreheads despite the cool weather. James gave them a strange look as he walked through the doors. He almost asked about their messy appearance, but he refrained. There was something glinting in their eyes, and James didn't want to get in the middle of whatever trouble they were creating.

When he arrived at the pitch, he couldn't find any signs of Rosalie or the Slytherin Quidditch team anywhere. Now confused, he searched the locker rooms, even the girls', and all of the sheds and closets.

Making his way back up to the castle, he saw something lying in the gravel. It glimmered in the moon light, projecting a radiant and sparkling light. James reached down and picked it up, examining it carefully.

It was a silver earring, and one he recognized. A memory bubbled in his mind, one from at least two years ago.

"Ooh, look at you, Flint! All dolled up for Slughorn's party!" James cooed, leaning against the stone wall, Fred chortling beside him.

Rosalie's nose wrinkled. "I"m sorry, but I don't respond to vermin like you."

James jumped up, sauntering over to Rosalie. "And look at that, you're even wearing a pair of pretty earrings. Little Rosalie is all grown up now," he taunted her, his voice light and teasing but dark with motives. He reached out to fondle the earring, but she slapped his hand away harshly.

"Don't touch those! They're from my nana."

"How precious."

With narrowed eyes, James pocketed the small piece of jewelry. Something wasn't right.


A/N: Hey guys! I'm so sorry for the wait, I feel so horrid! It's just my summer's been really busy, so I've been away from the computer often. Be nice: today's my birthday! :P

Anyways, just so you know what's in store, I'm planning on ending this story between chapters 30 and 35.. It's very exciting for me, because I have never actually finished a multi-chapter story on Fanfiction before! Milestones here, people!

There will not be a sequel, just because I feel like I honestly have nothing to write a sequel about. I don't know, maybe it will change, but as of now there will not be a sequel.

I just wanted to take a second and thank you all for being so kind and supportive, and honestly I would have given up a really long time ago if it wasn't for you!

So much love! ~Ramitora