Chapter Thirty-Five: Albus: The Tree

I really hated climbing trees.

Usually when someone says that, it's because they can't climb trees. And normally, I'll admit I can't. I have bad footing one hundred percent of the time, and I get nervous, which makes my hands sweaty, which means they're slippery, so they tend to… you know… slip.

But I can still climb trees. I have magic powers. Whoosh.

The only reason I'm climbing a tree in the first place is because when I was playing Quidditch with James, Fred and Adam (he was right, by the way – he does suck), I finally spotted Emily. In a tree. Sitting in the middle nook and reading my notebook.

And since the Quidditch game sucked balls, I decided to go up there.

The nook was kind of an enclosed, secluded space. There was a flat space where the trunk was, fitting maybe one, one and a half people and then huge branches spreading out from that one spot. I could barely see her - which meant the guys wouldn't be able to see me.

Perfect.

As soon as the others had their backs turned, I urged my broom (and by my broom, I mean the sorry excuse for a broom my family kept in their shed. A Nimbus or something) towards the tree, slipping in between the leaves. I swung my legs off the broom, placed it on between some branches so it wouldn't fall, and climbed down the tree. Slowly and quietly as possible, until I was right behind her and I could smell the shampoo-y smell in her hair.

"Boo!"

"Ahh!" She squealed and jerked out of place, but I slid my arms around her to keep her from falling. She sighed in relief when she saw it was me. "Bloody hell, Al, what are you doing?"

"Hiding." I moved her forwards and sat in her place so that she was sitting in my lap. "What are doing up here?"

"I'm hiding, too," she said contentedly, marking her place in the book with a fold of the page and shutting it. She leaned back to nuzzle my neck. "Did you know that my childhood haven was a tree house?"

"Really?" I thought back. "You never told me that."

"Yeah, I loved that place. Kind of like your bridge, but my parents knew about it." I laughed. She sighed again. "Dom's on a rampage."

"I heard."

"Lysander broke up with her very publicly," she said, her breath brushing across my neck. "She's devastated, and quite possibly going insane. I'm kind of surprised, I thought she was the kind of person who everything together."

"Not when it comes to Lysander."

"So why are you hiding?"

"I've never see Adam play Quidditch before," I groaned, closing my eyes and letting my cheek rest against the top of her head. "He can't even throw a Quaffle right."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "In terms of aim, you mean?"

I was momentarily confused, until I remembered that Emily had played Quidditch at Hogwarts, as well. I was slightly cheered up by this fact – I mean, I had a wife/girlfriend/person who can actually discuss Quidditch with me!

I knew she was perfect.

"As in, he can't even hold it properly," I clarified, smiling.

She laughed. "Damn. That's the easiest part!"

"I just won't get started on his coordination."

"And from the looks of it, he can barely fly."

"How'd you know?" I asked curiously, lifting my head to look at her. She blushed. I grinned wickedly. "Were you… spying on us?"

"Yes," she mumbled, her face burning against my neck. "And I wish you were sweatier right now. And not wearing a shirt."

Did she just…

Okay, I seriously have to stop taking her flirting by surprise.

I'd pretty much decided that I was going to stop pushing Emily away. Rose was right; I wasn't being fair, and as long as I was physically around Emily, I couldn't seem to help… you know. Touching her. Laughing with her. And she was bloody good at making me want her.

But while I was no longer pushing her away, I still couldn't just ignore that… thing. The reason I was pushing her away. That was something that tore me apart, and because what I did to Emily reminded me so much of it, I just felt like I'd been ripped in half entirely. Like paper.

(But I still wanted her.)

Emily had laughed at my shocked expression, planted a kiss on my slightly sweaty neck and pushed her hands underneath my t-shirt.

(Badly.)

So instead of pushing her away, I'd decided there wasn't a point. If we wanted to get over each other, we'd have to strictly stay away from one another. Which was not going to happen. It'd be like a gaping hole in my life, and I'd pretty much accepted that by then.

As in – who would I talk to? Pregnant, crazy Rose? Fred, who had a job and his own life with Ryan? James – Merlin, no. Lily – my younger sister, and that's just pathetic. Dom would probably make me go shopping, and at the moment, she was heartbroken. I didn't want to think about talking to Scorpius. Maybe Adam – but I felt like I'd have to punch him a lot. It's not the same.

(There are things I'd like to do to Emily, and punching is not one of them.)

I supposed that if I really wanted to pursue something... you know, like an actual relationship... and I did want to... then I couldn't very well push her away. If I wanted her to forgive me for what I did, I had to make up for it. And in the future, when I didn't feel like throwing up every time I thought about, when I told her, I'd want her to forgive me for what I did two years ago. Trust me not to do it again, even if I didn't trust myself. I wasn't going to get her trust if I kept acting the way I did.

Either way, Emily didn't deserve that.

"Hey," she said gently. Her hand was still rubbing circles on my waist. She really had to stop doing that. "What're you thinking?"

"Nothing," I mumbled. I didn't know how to tell her I wanted something real with her. What would I say?

"Nothing, huh?" she teased.

"Nah." I smiled at her and reached behind her to run my fingers through her hair. "What're you thinking?"

"That I narrowly escaped Dom," she joked. I laughed. "You should've seen it, through," she continued, a little more seriously. "I actually feel bad for her. He dumped her in front of Lily, Lorcan, Molly and Roxanne. He said she was too clingy and happy and that he needed to be his own man, be more independent and –"

"Alone?"

She laughed. "Essentially."

"I can't believe he'd be so dramatic," I said, shaking my head. "Then again, it's Lysander."

"I guess. I just couldn't believe he'd said all those things, and she just stood there and took it," she said sadly, leaning into my hand at the back of her head. "She's stronger than that. She grabbed me and dragged me away when I was putting away my plate. Really heartbroken. Thinks it was her fault."

"But Lysander can be a douche sometimes."

"I think… maybe… he got used to not having her around." Emily bit her lip, and I kept myself from groaning. "They had a long distance relationship for a year. Dom can be a little overbearing sometimes."

"I suppose."

"You don't care, do you?"

"Not really," I admitted, and she giggled. "Girl talk isn't my forte."

"Suppose not."

"But I can tell you that Adam's fallen in love with her," I added, remembering. "He hasn't even talked to her."

"Does he really?" she asked thoughtfully.

"Yup. He wants to crash your girl's night, and he's making me come with him."

"Is he?" She was suddenly smirking. Very suspiciously.

"Yes," I said nervously, narrowing my eyes. "He's an asshole. I'd stay away from him, if I were you."

She didn't say anything, but kept smirking as she took her off the chain and struggled to press the tiny button. I didn't know what she was planning in that Slytherin mind of hers, but as long as it didn't have to do with Adam, I was okay with it.

I think.

"So, I read a bit of this," she said, settling back in my arms and flipping the book open. She kept flipping, keeping her thumb still and letting the pages slip past her fingers. It was a two-hundred page notebook – to a muggle. For us, it flipped on forever. Emily shut it again and looked at me. "I can't figure out how you transfigured this book."

I shrugged, my heart thudding from nerves. I was more nervous of what she thought of the content.

"Al?" she asked. "Why do you think Wolfsbane gives off blue smoke?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

"Just answer the question."

"Errr…" I thought about everything I knew about potions. "Let's see… probably because of its main ingredient – monkshood, right? – and the way it reacts with…" And I went on to explain my educated, but very blind guess. I just knew some random stuff about ingredients and werewolves. I felt like an idiot.

After I finished, she smiled at me.

"You know that's a third year question for Healers, right?" she asked casually. "I read it the other night in one of my textbooks."

The tips of my ears turned hot. "Really?"

"And you just got it right." That smirk was back. It was going to be the death of me.

"Oh." I cleared my throat. Dammit. I knew I had to tell her sometime about my brains, but how do you just tell someone? 'Hey, I got you some juice, by the way, your Healing school accepted me, full scholarship, even though I hadn't applied. Surprise!"

Luckily for me, she'd figured it out on her own.

"So why'd you leave Dom all broken hearted?" I blurted out. Change subject. Please change the subject. I hated talking about this, much less myself. Emily seemed to understand exactly what was going on.

"She didn't want me around," she said. "She just needed to vent, but then started going on about how perfect my love life is." Emily snorted and opened my notebook again, and I was left wondering: what's wrong with it?

Oh, right.

Me.

"I want to talk to you about this story," Emily said, her voice suddenly much quieter. My nerves seemed to jump alive again as my fingers untangled from her hair and gripped the book. She leaned back onto my chest. "Read it."

"Umm… you mean… out loud?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes.

"I… okay…" I cleared my throat and began to read.

The star gives himself to loneliness.

He needs no one, and he is content.

Other stars love predictability – to hear exactly what they want to hear.

The star knew that.

And even then, he couldn't help being jealous that everyone could see him.

Everyone could see the stars in the sky, but he couldn't find his own parents.

My heart slowed as I finished. I'd never read my work out loud before. I don't think I breathed the entire time I was reading, and I was still holding my breath. Emily shut the book, pressed the button, placed the chain back around her neck and reached for my hand. I exhaled as her fingers traced the palm of my hand, breathing deeply how amazingly sweet and amazing she smelled, mixed with the fresh smell of wood and leaves.

"I love your voice," she said softly, blushing. "Especially when you're reading out loud. You sometimes speak out loud when you're writing."

"I do?" I was sure my face was the colour of tomatoes by now.

"Yeah."

"I love when you sing in the shower," I blurted out.

She began laughing. "Merlin, that's embarrassing," she said. "You could hear me?"

"Yeah." She stopped tracing shapes on my hand and slipped her fingers between mine. "Your voice is really soothing."

"Thanks." She sighed and shifted her gaze to my face. "This story… it's about your childhood, isn't it?"

Something inside my chest closed up. "No."

"You're lying."

"How can you tell?"

"Your voice just gets all… weird," she decided, and I laughed. "Okay, shush. I'm not a writer like you." I kept laughing. "I still know when you're lying or not."

That shut up me up.

"So," she continued triumphantly, "explain this story."

"Do I have to?" I whined childishly, and she giggled again. She kissed my neck as I cleared my throat. I reached around to bring her closer. "Okay. Yeah, it's about my childhood."

"When did you write it?" she asked.

"On my tenth birthday," I said quietly, fiddling with the fold at the bottom of her shorts. Her skin was really soft. "My parents had to go to work for some important meeting. They promised they'd be back for dinner, but they came when I fell asleep." I avoided her eyes. "It was October, so James was at Hogwarts. Lily always just went to read in her room. I had a bad day at muggle school. I felt bad, and the story just came out."

Emily shifted out of my grasp and turned around, so she was sitting cross-legged on my legs. Her forehead rested on mine, her arms sliding around the back of my neck. Still, I kept my eyes down. "Al, they love you."

"I know." Could she tell I still felt bad about my birthday from eight years ago? I thought I would've gotten over it by now.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. Her breath was brushing against my lips now. "Was most of your childhood like that?"

"No – I mean, sort of." I shrugged. "But my parents never liked it. It was just a part of life, and they had no choice but to comply. It's not as though they were never a part of my life – mostly, they were around," I clarified. "We had dinner every night and shit. But James was a difficult child, and he took a lot of the attention."

"Really?" she asked.

"Yeah." I still avoided her gaze. My hands slid up Emily's legs, my right hand brushing on her bandage. "He always craved a lot of attention when he was little. He didn't want to go to muggle school. We fought a lot. The last few years were the worst."

"What happened?"

"He caved under the pressure," I explained. "He was never a very good student, and it was all catching up. He barely passed his O.W.L.'s, he was Quidditch Captain, he didn't want to study for his N.E.W.T.'s and he and Dad just kept getting into arguments. Dad always encouraged James' Quidditch dream, but he wanted him to do well in school, but James just wasn't okay. He was going crazy.

"Remember how I told you James' smoked?" I asked, still not looking at her. Emily nodded. "He started because of all the pressure. He started doing some drugs during the holidays, and he didn't come home much. He drank a lot. He was just making all the wrong choices."

"Why?" she whispered.

"I think there was a girl," I said, chuckling. "There always is. I don't know those details, and I think there was more. But in the middle of seventh year, he wasn't going to classes anymore. He didn't have practice. He wasn't even eating. He was seriously depressed. So he and my dad had a long talk."

"About what?"

"I dunno." I shrugged. "But after that, James got his act together, quit smoking, quit drugs… everything. He's gone through a lot. I'm glad the press has no idea."

"Me too." Emily was still trying to catch my gaze. "Stop talking about your brother. I'm trying to get you to talk about yourself."

I laughed and looked in her eyes. "Okay."

"So… this story was a result of just one time, right?" she asked. "This one time they ditched you."

"They've ditched other times, but that one just hurt, I guess." I shrugged again, as if it were nothing. I was sure she could see right through that. "Despite everything, my family is pretty close."

"So, with your dad…"

"I'm worried," I said, closing my eyes. "Really worried."

"Do you have any guesses to what's going on?" she asked.

"I think these guys know magic we don't know of," I said. "I think they're powerful. And smart. They're not even causing a stir in terms of attacks. This was directed at the minister and my dad." I opened my eyes again. Her brown eyes were shining. "They want something."

"What?"

"I haven't a clue." My eyes dropped again. I loved being this close to Emily, for some reason. This is what she wanted, and I wanted to give it to her. "I'm scared."

"Me too." I didn't answer, and she nudged the tip of her nose with mine. "If it means anything… I love everything I've read in here."

I looked up. "You do?"

She nodded. "I almost want to be selfish and tell you not to publish anything. I want your words all to myself."

I laughed softly, wrapping my arms around her waist. "Is it fair to say I want you all to myself?"

Her face split into a smile. "More than fair."

"Have you…" I pushed a strand of hair away from her face. "Have you thought of what you might want to do when everything… all of this… when it's over?"

"Yes," she admitted, "but none of it is concrete."

"What do you want for sure?"

"To spend your birthday with you," she promised, "and make it the best day of your life."

I laughed. "Okay," I said carefully – because really, what's the best way to ask your wife to be your girlfriend? "But… I meant in terms of us." She stilled. "Since we're not… really married… I mean, we are, but I don't know if we should stay married, and – mmm."

Who needs words when you have Emily's lips?

Emily slowly unravelled her legs, partially straddling me and pushing the soles of her feet against the trunk. I gently pulled away and grinned at her. "Done talking?"

"Not even close," she retorted.

"Uh huh." Before she could answer, I pushed her back against the branch behind her. She squeaked as her back hit the wood, and I gripped her waist tightly. "What were you saying about me being sweaty?"

A smirk flitted across her lips. "I said –" she pushed the hem of my shirt up a couple of centimetres – "that you should be sweatier, so you can take this off." I grinned as she pulled it over my head and hung it on a nearby branch. Emily dipped her head and started kissing across my collarbone, accenting her words. "So – I – can – do – this."

Her lips reached my neck.

Fuck.

Within seconds, I'd tightened my grip on her hips and shoved her back against the tree. As soon as her lips pressed against mine, my sense came alive. The air filled with her sweet smell. Her moans vibrated against my lips, her mouth warm and soft and glorious. Her hips locked against mine. My heart thudded in my ears. Her hands threaded in my hair, tugging gently at the roots and digging into my scalp.

Merlin, how long had it been since I kissed her?

And how the hell did I resist?

"Al," she murmured as she pulled away a tiny bit. My lips followed, and she laughed. "I think your hands are a little low there, don't you think?"

"Hmm," I hummed, pretended to think. Then I squeezed her arse, and she squealed against my lips. I kissed her again. "Nope."

"Mhmm." Emily smirked as her hands untangled from my hair. She ran them slowly down my sides, barely touching my bare skin, but still leaving the sensations of her soft hands there. I shivered involuntarily.

And suddenly, she pushed me and my back slammed to the opposite branch.

She landed on top of me, and I was painfully aware that she was still straddling me. I laughed when she took my hands and moved them off her arse. I shifted so one hand was still holding hers, and the other came up to twirl and wrap my finger in her hair. I smiled. "Touche."

"Thanks," she said. She was blushing. It was my undoing.

I cupped her cheek and kissed her deeply before putting my shirt back on. When I looked at Emily, she was biting her lip.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing," she answered, still blushing.

I smiled at her and brought her close again. "You okay?"

"Yeah." She tugged at the hem of my shirt. "Why'd you put this back on?"

"The wood was hurting my back."

"Oh, sorry," she said, smirking again. "Don't suppose you want me to kiss it better?"

"You're forward today," I said suspiciously. Not that I hadn't noticed, but it was getting a little weird. "What's up?"

"So you don't want me to kiss it better?"

"Now that you mention it, my lips are kind of sore…" She laughed and leaned forward to kiss me again. This time was slower than a minute ago, but I wasn't complaining. I wanted to feel like I could do this all time, anytime. Like I didn't need her to kiss me first, so I knew she still wanted it.

"Hey," I said breathlessly, pulling away. "Hang on a second." She ignored me and pressed her lips against mine again. And it wasn't as though I was complaining – I really wasn't – but I needed to ask her, and she really wasn't making it easy when she kept doing that thing with her tongue.

"Seriously," I breathed. She moaned impatiently against my lips. "Em, I need to – mmm – I need to talk to you."

"Can it not wait?" she whispered before gripping my shirt at the top of my chest and pressing her lips insistently against mine. I was about to protest when she suddenly began to suck on my neck again. All thoughts flew out of my mind.

When I could think again, I nudged her back. I was immediately met with a wounded expression that made my stomach drop. Did I have to be guilty every time I saw that?

Besides, I thought asking her to be my girlfriend would be a good thing.

"Why do you keep stopping?" she asked sadly, letting go of me.

"I just…" Shit. I didn't want to do what Rose said I kept doing – rejecting her and making her lose self-worth and whatever girly crap she dealt with. I didn't know why Emily was being so forward that day, but she was sitting in my lap, her hair all messed up, her lips swollen, looking all big-eyed and… well… desperate.

But I wasn't sure why.

She bit her lip.

Screw it.

Our mouths met in the middle. Sometimes, I wish it were that simple; I just wanted us to be done with everything being so dramatic and stupid. I just wanted to ministry to sort out their shit, hand back my dad, tell Emily what happened with Holly, hope she didn't hate me and move on with my life. I just wanted to be able to snog her and not have to complicate or question every single damn thing.

Was that so much to ask?

I pulled back, but she had a firm grip at the back of my neck. I wish that I'd noticed her in school, even though we technically weren't allowed to speak to people in other houses. Maybe if we dated in secret, we could've skipped all this drama and… I dunno. Snogged in the Owlery. Or the Trophy Room. Or – fuck, the Quidditch Pitch. I moaned at that one, pulling her closer.

"EMILY AND ALBUS, SITTING IN A TREE, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…"

She smiled against my lips.

We broke apart and began to laugh. My fingers were still tangled in her hair. My shirt was balled up in her fists. Our foreheads joined as we loosened our grip on each other. She looked pleased, flustered and thoroughly snogged.

So worth the teasing.

"Are you guys coming down soon?" Lucy called while Chris continued to sing at the top of her lungs. "I wanna play princess!"

Emily laughed and raked a hand through her hair. Damn. I wanted to stay in that tree all day. She kissed me one last time before beginning to lower herself down the tree. "See you tonight, Al," she said.

She winked at me before she left.

She was definitely planning something.

"You stink at packing."

"You're not much better."

"At least my system doesn't involve throwing everything in the suitcase at once."

"Fine," I declared, throwing my hands up. "You and your fancy way of folding clothes. You win. Wanna snog?"

She laughed.

We were in my room, just after dinner. A few hours after Emily and I had gotten out of the tree (and Lucy played dress-up/princess with Emily – priceless), Teddy had shown up and given us the okay to start moving back to our respective homes.

Which meant, unfortunately, that Emily was going back to live with her parents. I never wished so badly as I did then that she hadn't told them it was fake. Marrying her didn't seem that ridiculous anymore, but now they knew the truth, and we weren't bonded.

Whatever, I just wanted her in my bed.

Instead, Emily was packing her things and trying to distract me in the meantime. Teddy had just told my family that were wasn't any weak spots into the ministry, let alone an entrance or exit. She knew that after the news, I hadn't eaten – just pushed my food around my plate.

So she was trying to distract me. And she was good at it.

"Seriously, you need to work on your packing skills," she muttered, ignoring my invitation and sifting through the suitcase.

"Hey, I packed that thing in five minutes flat." I smirked and lay on my bed backwards on my stomach so I could watch her pack. "Need I remind you that you were busy throwing up?"

"Please don't," she groaned. Emily transferred a pair of her shorts to her bag before holding up a large red shirt. "What's this?"

"My Quidditch Jersey."

She chucked it in her bag.

"Hey, that's mine!" I protested, confused to what she was doing. A good thief wouldn't steal something right before the owner's eyes – right? And what did Emily want my jersey for? "What're you doing?"

"Taking it," she said nonchalantly.

"Why, are you going to wear it?"

"Yes."

… oh. My cheeks burned red hot, and I was sure my face looked ridiculous. Instead of watching Emily's smirking face, I moved my pillow to the foot of the bed, stuffed my face into it and groaned.

"Thank Merlin I didn't see what you had planned for tonight," I mumbled.

"Don't get me started on that," she instantly seethed. "I couldn't believe Dom just forgave Lysander so easily. He can't just come around with a pout and expect to be taken back after calling her a clingy girlfriend in front of everyone!"

"But she is a clingy girlfriend, and she did take him back."

"I know," Emily grumbled.

"Adam's devastated," I added, grinning. Not only did Dom and Lysander get back together, but girl's night was cancelled. "He didn't get to see you all in your underwear."

"Girls don't sleep in their underwear," Emily said, laughing. Then she paused to look at me. "Although I could, if you wanted me to."

I kept my face deep in my pillow when I groaned again.

Emily finished gathering her clothes in her bag and lugged it onto the extra bed. I climbed on behind her as she dumped it out and began to fold and roll her clothes and organize them. She sighed audibly when I slid my arms around her and kissed her neck.

"Want some help?" I murmured.

"I'm okay," she replied softly, yawning. "It's been a long day, is all. And…"

"And what?"

"And…" Her voice had gotten so small and quiet that I wouldn't have heard it if I weren't right behind her. "And I'm scared to go home."

I cleared my throat. "You are?"

"Yes." Her body was trembling. I felt an overwhelming need to protect her – even more overwhelming than before, if possible.

"If… if you want…" I scratched my head. She turned around to face me. "If you wanted me to… you know, sneak out… I mean." My face coloured again. "I don't know how I'd pull it off, since the aurors or charms are bound to stop me, but if I could, I would."

She began to blush. "You would?"

"Of course."

"That's… so…" She leaned up and kissed me softly. "Thank you."

"Anytime."

She smiled. "You don't want me to get over you, do you?" she asked in a teasing tone.

"I…" I laughed nervously. "No. Not anymore."

"Does that mean your breakup doesn't bother you anymore?" she asked, toying with the ends of her hair.

"No, it means that I'm hoping you'll forgive me for being such a prat these past few weeks," I told her honestly, "and that when I tell you, you'll forgive me again."

"Are you ready to tell me?" she asked.

I shook my head.

"Tell me something else," she decided, crossing her legs and forgetting the suitcase behind her. "Something easier to talk about."

I thought about it.

"Snogging is easy, and requires no talking at all."

She rolled her eyes as I pulled her towards me and kissed her. Finally. This what I'd wanted to do since we stopped in that tree earlier.

"Al, I need to pack," she mumbled, smiling.

"I need a distraction."

"I need to leave," she decided, pulling out her wand and flicking it at the pile. I blinked, and everything was packing itself. Why hadn't she done that before, anyway?

Oh, yeah. She was stalling and being a very good distraction.

"My parents want to take me out for dinner tomorrow," she told me, getting up and watching her things rearrange themselves. She began zipping up her luggage. "They want to make up for missing my birthday."

"Oh yeah…" I thought for a moment. "What did I get you?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" That didn't sound right. "Seriously?"

"You've given me enough," she assured me, picking up two of her smaller bags. I bent down to take her biggest suitcase and we began to make our way downstairs. "Really, Al. Your stories make up for it."

"They're not good enough for your birthday," I muttered. What could I get her as (very late) birthday present? I set down the suitcase in the landing. Emily's parents were still chatting with my mum in the kitchen, so I turned back to her. "When do you want to meet up tomorrow?"

She put down the bags, slung her arms around my shoulders and leaned close. "Whenever you want to sneak out," she whispered.

"What?"

"Whenever you decide to come over," she clarified a little more loudly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. I raised an eyebrow. She reached up on her toes to hug me. "Good night, Al."

"Night," I said gently, leaning down to kiss her. I watched sadly as their family came into the hall a couple of minutes later, waved goodbye and set off to their home.

"You are so whipped."

I spun around to see James and Lily laughing at me. Even my mum was smiling a little. I turned red for probably the millionth time that day and crossed my arms. "I'm not whipped, James."

"Oh, but you are –"

"I can't believe it," Mum said tearfully, stepping forwards and embracing me in a tight hug. "When did my son fall in love?"

"What am I, a hippogriff?" James muttered. Lily giggled. I was, however, was busy spluttering like a moron.

"But – you – she – I'm not in love!" I protested. Can everyone stop assuming I am?

"If it's not love, it's some serious obsession," Lily piped up.

I rounded on her. "Have you been reading romance novels again?"

"Oh, stop it," Mum said as my sister stuck out her tongue. "Lily, let your brother be in denial."

"Thank you," I said stiffly. Then my jaw dropped.

Wait, what?

Mum had already moved on, however. She looked down at the floor – very unlike her, but I suppose she was feeling horrible at the moment. "Does anyone want to sleep down here tonight?"

James, Lily and I exchanged glances before nodding. When we were little, the entire family used to gather in the family room, eat sweets, play Wizard's Chess or Gobstones or something. Lily was always the first to fall asleep. I was usually the last. I liked being in the middle of all the sleeping bags – I was mostly in between James and Lily – and hearing everyone fall asleep, snoring, breathing, sometimes talking. It was like being wrapped in a giant, loving cocoon.

(Shut up. It was awesome.)

And because my dad was missing, I was suddenly so glad I was with my family.