Christina awoke the next morning feeling refreshed, opening her eyes to Fred who must have been there the entire night. The room was pleasantly warm and she smiled at Fred who smiled back, "Hey" she said, everything seemed normal. He stroked the air from her from and then it hit her...her face fell as tears welled up in her eyes. Fred frowned.

"I don't want to be awake..." she said woefully. Fred pressed her head into his chest, embracing her. "No, no...it's going to be okay...I'll be there for you, and if you need to let off some steam and murder a family of five then I'll be there for you too..." he said trying to lighten the mood. She laughed for the first time, it seemed like, in a while. They stayed together in the hospital wing for a few hours, Christina not wanting to get up and Fred obliging, giving her her space. Harry was already gone, talking to the Diggory's apparently. She could only imagine what they had to say. . .

As she and Fred were talking she noticed Fred look up and then get up to leave. His body was replaced by Remus Lupin's who sat down and gave Christina an empathetic look. "How're you doing?" he asked her.

"I guess I'm technically better, I'm talking aren't I?" she said somewhat comically, somewhat darkly. Remus looked at her and waited for Fred to close the door to the hospital wing.

"Christina I don't have much time but I need to know...did you show Voldemort your natural powers last night?" her smiling face fell and looked at him, hard.

"Is that what you're going to say to me?" she asked sternly. He stammered, "Well-I"

"You don't talk to me, you don't write to me-" she de-materialized her body and stood up through the bed and walked forward, pushing Lupin backwards in fear. "If you don't give a FUCK about me, why are you here!?" she said, now yelling. She could feel her power surging through her and she didn't care. She was livid.

"Christina, don't make me retrain you!" he said, feigning confidence. She looked to a mirror to her right and noticed her entire body was glowing red, her hair flying wildly. She smiled menacingly and he pulled out his wand, she bolted at him and grabbed him by the collar and threw him at the doors to the room. His body pushed them open and he hit a railing outside and fell. As the hospital wing doors opened she saw Cedric in a ray of sunlight giving herself a small rock. She watched him smile and scratch the back of his head, embarrassed and she watched her old self smile back up at him and take the gift. Her whole world turned on itself.

It was as though all the emotion from last night she had saved for this very moment. She felt a tornado was in the hospital wing and she was at the center of it, wind rushing past her and objects being thrown around the room. Just then she saw, out of the corner of her eye, Fred walk in, take in the scene, and get into the corner of the room. She felt something being lifted from her pocket and rise, and in front of her face was that small rock that Cedric had given her. She turned to the mirror and saw a black glow around her body, black eyes and she fell to the floor, clutching her head. She was a monster, what was wrong with her? Why was she like this. . .she wanted it to stop. . .she wanted Cedric back...his words reverberating around in her head and she cried out in emotional pain. She would never hear him laugh again, never see him again, never watch the stars with him again. .

She felt two arms encapsulate her and hug her trembling body. It was Fred, fighting through the wind to be with her. She felt hot tears streak her face and the tornado stopped and she heard the crash of the objects that were being whipped around the room. He craddled her, rocking her back and forth as she sobbed. Sobbed like she had never cried in her life. She looked out to the mess of the room and crawled over a few feet away and pocketed the broomstick shaped rock. Fred didn't understand, but loved her anyway.

When she looked back, even a month later, Christina found she had only scattered memories of the next few days. It was as though she had been through too much to take in any more. The recollections she did have were very painful. The worst, perhaps, was the meeting with the Diggorys that took place the following morning. They did not blame her for what had happened; they seemed to be very anti-Harry on the whole matter. Both thanked her for returning Cedric's body to them. Mr. Diggory sobbed through most of the interview. Mrs. Diggory's grief seemed to be beyond tears.

Christina returned to Gryffindor Tower the following evening. From what Hermione and Ron told her, Dumbledore had spoken to the school that morning at breakfast. He had merely requested that they leave Christina and Harry alone, that nobody ask them questions or badger them to tell the story of what had happened in the maze. Most people, she noticed, were skirting her in the corridors, avoiding her eyes. Some whispered behind their hands as she passed. She found she didn't care very much. She liked it best when she was with Ron and Hermione and they were talking about other things, or else letting her sit in silence while they played chess. She felt as though all three of them had reached an understanding they didn't need to put into words; that each was waiting for some sign, some word, of what was going on outside Hogwarts - and that it was useless to speculate about what might be coming until they knew anything for certain. The only time they touched upon the subject was when Ron told Christina about a meeting Mrs. Weasley had had with Dumbledore before going home.

"She went to ask him if you could come straight to us this summer," he said. "But he wants you to go back to America, at least at first."

"Why?" said Christina.

"She said Dumbledore's got his reasons," said Ron, shaking his head darkly. "I suppose we've got to trust him, haven't we?"

Christina and Harry weren't talking. Harry was mad that Christina had seen his parents and Christina blamed Harry for Cedric's death. There was a small part in her heart that knew Harry was innocent, that he really just didn't know better, but she was too bitter to overlook this, and much to distraught to get over the death that easily.

There was no longer a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, they had those lessons free. They used the one on Thursday afternoon to go down and visit Hagrid in his cabin. It was a bright and sunny day; Fang bounded out of the open door as they approached, barking and wagging his tail madly.

"Who's that?" called Hagrid, coming to the door. "Harry! Christina!" He strode out to meet them, pulled Harry into a one-armed hug, ruffled his hair, and said, "Good ter see yeh, mate. Good ter see yeh." They saw two bucket-size cups and saucers on the wooden table in front of the fireplace when they entered Hagrid's cabin.

"Bin havin' a cuppa tea with Olympe," Hagrid said. "She's jus' left."

"Who?" said Ron curiously.

"Madame Maxime, o' course!" said Hagrid.

"You two made up, have you?" said Ron.

"Dunno what yeh're talkin' about," said Hagrid airily, fetching more cups from the dresser. When he had made tea and offered around a plate of doughy cookies, he leaned back in his chair and surveyed Christina closely through his beetle-black eyes.

"You all righ'?" he said gruffly

"Yeah," said Christina.

"No, yeh're not," said Hagrid. "Course yeh're not. But yeh will be." Christina said nothing. "Knew he was goin' ter come back," said Hagrid, and Christina, Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked up at him, shocked. "Known it fer years Harry. Knew he was out there, bidin' his time. It had ter happen. Well, now it has, an' we'll jus' have ter get on with it. We'll fight. Migh' be able ter stop him before he gets a good hold. That's Dumbledores plan, anyway. Great man, Dumbledore. 'S long as we've got him, I'm not too worried." Hagrid raised his bushy eyebrows at the disbelieving expressions on their faces. "No good sittin' worryin' abou' it," he said. "What's comin' will come, an we'll meet it when it does. Dumbledore told me wha' you did. Christina." Hagrid's chest swelled as he looked at Christina. "Yeh did as much as yer father would've done, an' I can' give yeh no higher praise than that." Christina smiled back at him. It was the first time she'd smiled in days, and the first time Hagrid talked about Christina's parents.

"What's Dumbledore asked you to do, Hagrid?" he asked. "He sent Professor McGonagall to ask you and Madame Maxime to meet him - that night."

"Got a little job fer me over the summer," said Hagrid. "Secret, though. I'm not s'pposed ter talk abou' it, no, not even ter you lot. Olympe - Madame Maxime ter you - might be comin' with me. I think she will. Think I got her persuaded."

"Is it to do with Voldemort?" Hagrid flinched at the sound of the name.

"Migh' be," he said evasively. "Now… who'd like ter come an' visit the las' skrewt with me? I was jokin' - jokin'!" he added hastily, seeing the looks on their faces. It was with a heavy heart that Christina packed her trunk up in the dormitory on the night before her return to America. She was dreading the Leaving Feast, which was usually a cause for celebration, when the winner of the Inter-House Championship would be announced. She had avoided being in the Great Hall when it was full ever since she had left the hospital wing, preferring to eat when it was nearly empty to avoid the stares of her fellow students. When she, Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the Hall, they saw at once that the usual decorations were missing. The Great Hall was normally decorated with the winning House's colors for the Leaving Feast. Tonight, however, there were black drapes on the wall behind the teachers' table. Christina knew instantly that they were there as a mark of respect to Cedric.

The real Mad-Eye Moody was at the staff table now, his wooden leg and his magical eye back in place. He was extremely twitchy, jumping every time someone spoke to him. Christina couldn't blame him; Moody's fear of attack was bound to have been increased by his ten-month imprisonment in his own trunk. Professor Karkaroff s chair was empty. Christina wondered, as she sat down with the other Gryffindors, where Karkaroff was now, and whether Voldemort had caught up with him. Madame Maxime was still there. She was sitting next to Hagrid. They were talking quietly together. Further along the table, sitting next to Professor McGonagall, was Snape. His eyes lingered on Christina for a moment as Christina looked at him. His expression was difficult to read. He looked as sour and unpleasant as ever. Christina continued to watch him, long after Snape had looked away. What was it that Snape had done on Dumbledores orders, the night that Voldemort had returned? And why… why… was Dumbledore so convinced that Snape was truly on their side? He had been their spy, Dumbledore had said so in the Pensieve. Snape had turned spy against Voldemort, "at great personal risk." Was that the job he had taken up again? Had he made contact with the Death Eaters, perhaps? Pretended that he had never really gone over to Dumbledore, that he had been, like Voldemort himself, biding his time? Christina's musings were ended by Professor Dumbledore, who stood up at the staff table. The Great Hall, which in any case had been less noisy than it usually was at the Leaving Feast, became very quiet.

"The end," said Dumbledore, looking around at them all, "of another year." He paused, and his eyes fell upon the Hufflepuff table. Theirs had been the most subdued table before he had gotten to his feet, and theirs were still the saddest and palest faces in the Hall. "There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," said Dumbledore, "but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here," he gestured toward the Hufflepuffs, "enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory." They did it, all of them; the benches scraped as everyone in the Hall stood, and raised their goblets, and echoed, in one loud, low, rumbling voice, "Cedric Diggory."

Christina caught a glimpse of Cho through the crowd. There were tears pouring silently down her face, Christina rolled her eyes, he didn't even like her, she thought. She looked down at the table as they all sat down again.

"Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff house," Dumbledore continued. "He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about." Christina raised her head and stared at Dumbledore.

"Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort." A panicked whisper swept the Great Hall. People were staring at Dumbledore in disbelief, in horror. He looked perfectly calm as he watched them mutter themselves into silence. "The Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore continued, "does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so - either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory." Stunned and frightened, every face in the Hall was turned toward Dumbledore now… or almost every face. Over at the Slytherin table Christina saw Draco Malfoy muttering something to Crabbe and Goyle. Christina felt a hot, sick swoop of anger in her stomach. She forced herself to look back at Dumbledore.

"There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Cedric's death," Dumbledore went on. "I am talking, of course, about Christina Bataskill and Harry Potter." A kind of ripple crossed the Great Hall as a few heads turned in Christina and Harry's direction before flicking back to face Dumbledore.

"Harry and Christina managed to escape Lord Voldemort," said Dumbledore. "They risked their own life to return Cedric's body to Hogwarts. They showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor them." Dumbledore turned gravely to Christina and Harry and raised his goblet once more. Nearly everyone in the Great Hall followed suit. They murmured their names, as they had murmured Cedric's, and drank to them. But through a gap in the standing figures. Christina saw that Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and many of the other Slytherins had remained defiantly in their seats, their goblets untouched. Dumbledore, who after all possessed no magical eye, did not see them. When everyone had once again resumed their seats, Dumbledore continued,

"The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened - of Lord Voldemorts return - such ties are more important than ever before." Dumbledore looked from Madame Maxime and Hagrid, to Fleur Delacour and her fellow Beauxbatons students, to Viktor Krum and the Durmstrangs at the Slytherin table. Krum, Christina saw, looked wary, almost frightened, as though he expected Dumbledore to say something harsh.

"Every guest in this Hall," said Dumbledore, and his eyes lingered upon the Durmstrang students, "will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again - in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.

"It is my belief - and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken - that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was taken from our midst.

"Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory."

Christina's trunk was packed; Tulip was back in her cage on top of it. She, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were waiting in the crowded entrance hall with the rest of the fourth years for the carriages that would take them back to Hogsmeade station. It was another beautiful summer's day. She supposed that America would be hot and leafy, its flower beds a riot of color, when she arrived there the next morning. The thought gave her no pleasure at all.

"'Arry!" She looked around. Fleur Delacour was hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Beyond her, far across the grounds Christina could see Hagrid helping Madame Maxime to back two of the giant horses into their harness. The Beauxbatons carriage was about to take off.

"We will see each uzzer again, I 'ope," said Fleur as she reached him, holding out her hand. "I am 'oping to get a job 'ere, to improve my Eenglish."

"It's very good already," said Ron in a strangled sort of voice. Fleur smiled at him; Hermione scowled.

"Good-bye, 'Arry," said Fleur, turning to go. "It 'az been a pleasure meeting you!" Fleur hurried back across the lawns to Madame Maxime, her silvery hair rippling in the sunlight.

"Wonder how the Durmstrang students are getting back," said Ron. "D' you reckon they can steer that ship without Karkaroff?"

"Karkaroff did not steer," said a gruff voice. "He stayed in his cabin and let us do the vork." Krum had come to say good-bye to Hermione. "Could I have a vord?" he asked her.

"Oh… yes… all right," said Hermione, looking slightly flustered, and following Krum through the crowd and out of sight.

"You'd better hurry up!" Ron called loudly after her. "The carriages'll be here in a minute!" He let Christina keep a watch for the carriages, however, and spent the next few minutes craning her neck over the crowd to try and see what Krum and Hermione might be up to. They returned quite soon. Ron stared at Hermione, but her face was quite impassive.

"I liked Diggory," said Krum abruptly to Christina. "He vos alvays polite to me. Alvays. Even though I vos from Durmstrang - with Karkaroff," he added, scowling.

"Have you got a new headmaster yet?" said Christina, Krum shrugged. He held out his hand as Fleur had done, shook Christina and Harry's hand, and then Ron's. Ron looked as though he was suffering some sort of painful internal struggle. Krum had already started walking away when Ron burst out,

"Can I have your autograph?" Hermione turned away, smiling at the horseless carriages that were now trundling toward them up the drive, as Krum, looking surprised but gratified, signed a fragment of parchment for Ron.

The weather could not have been more different on the journey back to King's Cross than it had been on their way to Hogwarts the previous September. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky. Christina, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had managed to get a compartment to themselves. Pigwidgeon was once again hidden under Ron's dress robes to stop him from hooting continually; Tulip was dozing, her head under her wing while Hedwig hooted playfully, and Crookshanks was curled up in a spare seat like a large, furry ginger cushion. Christina, Harry, Ron, and Hermione talked more fully and freely than they had all week as the train sped them southward. Christina felt as though Dumbledore's speech at the Leaving Feast had unblocked her, somehow. It was less painful to discuss what had happened now. They broke off their conversation about what action Dumbledore might be taking, even now, to stop Voldemort only when the lunch trolley arrived. When Hermione returned from the trolley and put her money back into her schoolbag, she dislodged a copy of the Daily Prophet that she had been carrying in there. Christina looked at it, unsure whether she really wanted to know what it might say, but Hermione, seeing him looking at it, said calmly, "There's nothing in there. You can look for yourself, but there's nothing at all. I've been checking every day. Just a small piece the day after the third task saying you won the tournament. They didn't even mention Cedric. Nothing about any of it. If you ask me Fudge is forcing them to keep quiet."

"He'll never keep Rita quiet," said Christina. "Not on a story like this."

"Oh, Rita hasn't written anything at all since the third task," said Hermione in an oddly constrained voice. "As a matter of fact," she added, her voice now trembling slightly, "Rita Skeeter isn't going to be writing anything at all for a while. Not unless she wants me to spill the beans on her."

"What are you talking about?" said Ron.

"I found out how she was listening in on private conversations when she wasn't supposed to be coming onto the grounds," said Hermione in a rush. Christina had the impression that Hermione had been dying to tell them this for days, but that she had restrained herself in light of everything else that had happened.

"How was she doing it?" said Christina at once.

"How did you find out?" said Ron, staring at her.

"Well, it was you, really, who gave me the idea Harry," she said.

"Did I?" said Harry, perplexed. "How?"

"Bugging," said Hermione happily. "But you said they didn't work -"

"Oh not electronic bugs," said Hermione. "No, you see… Rita Skeeter" - Hermiones voice trembled with quiet triumph - "is an unregistered Animagus. She can turn -" Hermione pulled a small sealed glass jar out other bag. "- into a beetle."

"You're kidding," said Ron. "You haven't… she's not…"

"Oh yes she is," said Hermione happily, brandishing the jar at them. Inside were a few twigs and leaves and one large, fat beetle. "That's never - you're kidding -" Ron whispered, lifting the jar to his eyes.

"No, I'm not," said Hermione, beaming. "I caught her on the windowsill in the hospital wing. Look very closely, and you'll notice the markings around her antennae are exactly like those foul glasses she wears." Christina looked and saw that she was quite right.

"There was a beetle on the statue the night we heard Hagrid telling Madame Maxime about his mum!" Harry said excitedly.

"Exactly," said Hermione. "And Viktor pulled a beetle out of my hair after we'd had our conversation by the lake. And unless I'm very much mistaken, Rita was perched on the windowsill of the Divination class the day your scar hurt. She's been buzzing around for stories all year."

"When we saw Malfoy under that tree…" said Ron slowly.

"He was talking to her, in his hand," said Hermione. "He knew, of course. That's how she's been getting all those nice little interviews with the Slytherins. They wouldn't care that she was doing something illegal, as long as they were giving her horrible stuff about us and Hagrid." Hermione took the glass jar back from Ron and smiled at the beetle, which buzzed angrily against the glass.

"I've told her I'll let her out when we get back to London," said Hermione. "I've put an Unbreakable Charm on the jar, you see, so she can't transform. And I've told her she's to keep her quill to herself for a whole year. See if she can't break the habit of writing horrible lies about people." Smiling serenely, Hermione placed the beetle back inside her schoolbag. The door of the compartment slid open.

"Very clever Granger," said Draco Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle were standing behind him. All three of them looked more pleased with themselves, more arrogant and more menacing, than Christina had ever seen them. "So," said Malfoy slowly, advancing slightly into the compartment and looking slowly around at them, a smirk quivering on his lips. "You caught some pathetic reporter, and Dumbledore's favorites are back again. Big deal." His smirk widened. Crabbe and Goyle leered. "Trying not to think about it, are we?" said Malfoy softly, looking around at all three of them. "Trying to pretend it hasn't happened?"

"Get out," said Harry. Christina rose from her seat. She had not been this close to Malfoy since she had watched him muttering to Crabbe and Goyle during Dumbledore's speech about Cedric. She could feel a kind of ringing in her ears. Her hand gripped her wand under her robes.

"You've picked the losing side! I warned you! I told you you ought to choose your company more carefully, remember? When we met on the train, first day at Hogwarts? I told you not to hang around with riffraff like this!" He jerked his head at Ron and Hermione. "Too late now Potter! They'll be the first to go, now the Dark Lord's back! Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers first! Well - second - Diggory was the f-"

It was as though someone had exploded a box of fireworks within the compartment. Blinded by the blaze of the spells that had blasted from every direction, deafened by a series of bangs, Harry blinked and looked down at the floor. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were all lying unconscious in the doorway. He, Ron, and Hermione were on their feet, all three of them having used a different hex. Nor were they the only ones to have done so.

"Thought we'd see what those three were up to," said Fred matter-of-factly, stepping onto Goyle and into the compartment. He had his wand out, and so did George, who was careful to tread on Malfoy as he followed Fred inside. "Interesting effect," said George, looking down at Crabbe. "Who used the Furnunculus Curse?"

"Me," said Harry.

"Odd," said George lightly. "I used Jelly-Legs. Looks as though those two shouldn't be mixed. He seems to have sprouted little tentacles all over his face. Well, let's not leave them here, they don't add much to the decor."

Ron, Harry, and George kicked, rolled, and pushed the unconscious Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle - each of whom looked distinctly the worse for the jumble of jinxes with which they had been hit - out into the corridor, then came back into the compartment and rolled the door shut.

"Exploding Snap, anyone?" said Fred, pulling out a pack of cards. They were halfway through their fifth game when Christina decided to ask them.

"You going to tell us, then?" she said to George. "Who you were blackmailing?"

"Oh," said George darkly. "That."

"It doesn't matter," said Fred, shaking his head impatiently. "It wasn't anything important. Not now, anyway."

"We've given up," said George, shrugging. But Christina, Harry, Ron, and Hermione kept on asking, and finally, Fred said, "All right, all right, if you really want to know… it was Ludo Bagman."

"I knew it!" Christina said proudly.

"Bagman?" said Harry sharply. "Are you saying he was involved in -"

"Nah," said George gloomily. "Nothing like that. Stupid git. He wouldn't have the brains."

"Well, what, then?" said Ron. Fred hesitated, then said, "You remember that bet we had with him at the Quidditch World Cup? About how Ireland would win, but Krum would get the Snitch?"

"Yeah," said Harry and Ron slowly. "Well, the git paid us in leprechaun gold he'd caught from the Irish mascots."

"So?"

"So," said Fred impatiently, "it vanished, didn't it? By next morning, it had gone!"

"But - it must've been an accident, mustn't it?" said Hermione. George laughed very bitterly. "Yeah, that's what we thought, at first. We thought if we just wrote to him, and told him he'd made a mistake, he'd cough up. But nothing doing. Ignored our letter. We kept trying to talk to him about it at Hogwarts, but he was always making some excuse to get away from us."

"In the end, he turned pretty nasty," said Fred. "Told us we were too young to gamble, and he wasn't giving us anything."

"So we asked for our money back," said George glowering.

"He didn't refuse!" gasped Hermione.

"Right in one," said Fred.

"But that was all your savings!" said Ron.

"Tell me about it," said George. "'Course, we found out what was going on in the end. Lee Jordan's dad had had a bit of trouble getting money off Bagman as well. Turns out he's in big trouble with the goblins. Borrowed loads of gold off them. A gang of them cornered him in the woods after the World Cup and took all the gold he had, and it still wasn't enough to cover all his debts. They followed him all the way to Hogwarts to keep an eye on him. He's lost everything gambling. Hasn't got two Galleons to rub together. And you know how the idiot tried to pay the goblins back?"

"How?" said Harry.

"He put a bet on you, mate," said Fred. "Put a big bet on you to win the tournament. Bet against the goblins."

"So that's why he kept trying to help me win!" said Harry.

"Sorry, boys!" said Christina.

George continued, shaking his head. "So Bagman had to run for it. He did run for it right after the third task." George sighed deeply and started dealing out the cards again. The rest of the journey passed pleasantly enough; Christina wished it could have gone on all summer, in fact, and that she would never arrive at King's Cross… but as she had learned the hard way that year, time will not slow down when something unpleasant lies ahead, and all too soon, the Hogwarts Express was pulling in at platform nine and three-quarters. The usual confusion and noise filled the corridors as the students began to disembark. Ron and Hermione struggled out past Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, carrying their trunks. Christina, however, stayed put.

"Fred - George - wait a moment." The twins turned. She pulled open her trunk and drew out her Triwizard winnings.

"Take it," she said, and she thrust the sack into George's hands.

"What?" said Fred, looking flabbergasted.

"Take it," Christina repeated firmly. "I don't want it."

"You're mental," said George, trying to push it back at Christina.

"No, I'm not," said Christina. "You take it, and get inventing. It's for the joke shop."

"She is mental," Fred said in an almost awed voice.

"Listen," said Christina firmly. "If you don't take it, I'm throwing it down the drain. I don't want it and I don't need it. But I could do with a few laughs. We could all do with a few laughs. I've got a feeling we're going to need them more than usual before long."

"Christina," said George weakly, weighing the money bag in his hands, "there's got to be a thousand Galleons in here."

"Yeah," said Christina, grinning. "Think how many Canary Creams that is." The twins stared at her. "Just don't tell your mum where you got it… although she might not be so keen for you to join the Ministry anymore, come to think of it…"

"Christina," Fred began, but Harry pulled out her wand.

"Look," she said flatly, "take it, or I'll hex you. I know some good ones now. Just do me one favor, okay? Buy Ron some different dress robes and say they're from you." She left the compartment before they could say another word, stepping over Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were still lying on the floor, covered in hex marks. Fred came up behind her and hugged her from behind, "I love you, you know that?" she turned around and he kissed her.

"Don't say I never did nothin for ya" she said smiling, kissing him back. They left the train hand-in-hand and said goodbye to everyone, it finally came time for Fred and Christina to part ways.

"I'll visit you as soon as I can" she said kissing him again. "I'll write back this time!" Fred said humorously. They hugged and she held onto him for a long time. Everything was different and yet the same, she had now had first hand account of a best friend dying and yet still had her regular friend group. She waved goodbye to Harry who waved back, looking like he wanted to say more but left with the Dursleys. Ron hugged her goodbye as did Hermione and she finally headed off to find a taxi to the airport, terrified of the implications of Voldemort's return, happy she would see Fred sooner than the previous summer, and smiling, knowing that Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle would most likely miss their stop at King's Cross.