Hello Lovely Reader! Welcome back to Meadow Snape, the girl of wonder? Anyway, despite it being so early in the series, leave a comment on where you'd like Meadow's love life to lead her! At 11, I won't worry too much about it apart from crushes and the occasional gossip with Daphne. This was one aspect of J.K. Rowling's story, that in my opinion, lacked romance and teenage angst.

I do apologize for not updating recently, I was doing quite well with the last few updates being roughly a month apart. I have seasonal depression and unfortunately it bested me this year.

Enough with my rambling—enjoy!

Miracle

Meadow was torn between feeling happy she was being included in something with the upperclassmen, yet, suspicious since she'd never talked to Adrian and Miles before. It seemed off. But the two didn't seem like the type to get into the stereotypical Slytherin dark arts. "We'll see," she responded lightly. Leaving her response open for a reason. She was too curious to pass up an opportunity to be included.

Chapter Nine: Friendship Heartache

In the next few days, Quidditch try-outs were held. Meadow went and watched as Terence had officially signed up. And this would be her first glimpse at the terrible Marcus Flinch. As she and Daphne settled themselves into the stands, munching on bread and jam, they chatted about who they thought would do well based on appearances. Of course, Meadow found out that those from the team last year had to retry-out to land a spot on the team again this year.

She recognized Adrian and Miles, the two were talking with their heads bent down and close together; Terence was a little way away from the two older boys, he was pale and nervous. His icy eyes shifting around as his jaw clenched and unclenched before clenching again. There were two boys, both tall and built, dressed in beater clothing with a club in on hand, were goofing off, shoving each other and using the clubs as swords. Meadow suspected that those two were the beaters from last year, as they seemed relaxed compared to the few others who were dressed in beater gear.

As she took a bite of toast, she counted the rest of the people who had gathered for the Slytherin try-outs. Each house had a different evening for try-outs so no one could spy on another house. . . or so Madam Hooch had said, Meadow believed it was so no fights would break out amongst the houses. As Quidditch was a very serious game here at Hogwarts.

Flint walked in, a boy built like a wall of bricks, he was toned and muscular, and tall. His black hair cropped short, and his facial structure was strong with a defined jaw and cheekbones.

"Ohh," Meadow let out unknowing, "I could get on the Flint hype, depending on how terrifying he actually is." He was rather handsome, in a rugged way. As his nose was slightly crooked from playing hard and getting it broken. And then—he smirked. "Just kidding, I just lost any sort of attraction towards him," she added. Flints teeth were awful. He had a chipped tooth, some were crooked, and most looked overly large for his mouth. All his handsome features at first glance looked worse the more you studied his face: his eyebrows were bushy and resting in a furious look, the smirk he had upon his face twisted his face where his nose looked larger than before. It was just an unattractive look. Flint looked more like a troll now.

Daphne burst out laughing, clapping a hand over her mouth as she stifled the noise. Meadow joined in, giggling at her own expensive. Her friend must have known about Flint's appearance. Meadow believed Daphne was related to him somewhere down the line of her lineage. "Yeah, he's a bit of a wreck," she waved a hand to her mouth and giggled again. "I'm pretty sure Sage had told him multiple times that he needed to get his teeth fixed."

"Who's Sage?" Meadow asked as she watched Flint divide the students up into groups.

"She's Flint's twin sister. Much nicer, I'm surprised you haven't been introduced yet," Daphne replied as she licked her lips clean from the jam. She used a napkin to clean her fingers and dapped at the corner of her mouth.

The two fell silent as they watched Flint direct the groups into exercises, Miles, Adrian, and Terence were all split up into different groups. Meadow assumed that it was based on what position each person wanted to play. There were already a few students walking off the pitch. Flint had dismissed them already for one reason or another.

Meadow found a rush that released into her body, the yearning to be out there trying-out for Quidditch, even though she never did fly during that first lesson with the Gryffindors. She imagined it to be wonderful flying in the air without any restrictions—her father took great care in providing wizarding world activities yet concealing them from Muggles. But no matter, Meadow wanted to feel the wind in her air and the excitement of playing the best spot in the world: Quidditch, of course. Alas, first years were not allowed a broom and were hardly ever allowed to play unless extremely talented. Case in point: Harry Potter; ripped away from Flying lessons by Professor McGonagall, who then interrupted Professor Flitwick's class to chat with Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Captain, and tell him that Gryffindor has a new seeker. It was bloody brilliant for Harry. And a secret to everyone in the school apart from the Gryffindor team and their close friends. Meadow wouldn't tell the Slytherin team about it, as she should be just as clueless as the rest of them. Besides, she didn't see the harm in letting the school find out later with the rest of the Gryffindor house. And it was one more reason for her house to believe she wasn't as close to Harry Potter as it seemed, as long as she acted surprised.

Out of the chasers, it was clear who would be on the team. Flint, obviously, as he was captain and was a chaser. Adrian, he was a chaser last year too and showed his skills off better than the other try-outs. He meshed well with another student, Cassius Warrington. A boy with dirty blonde, short, curly hair, a strong jawline for a third year, and hazel eyes. For the keepers, Miles by far did the best at blocking. Not letting anything go by him.

As for the seekers who were trying out, Terence was the smallest player. This worried Meadow when the students kicked off the ground in a hunt to catch the Snitch before anyone else in the quickest time possible. However, his smaller size weighed into the success that Terence had, he was able to hunt down the snitch and catch it, despite his old broom.

The group had to repeat this exercise four more times, each time Terence was able to get his broom to go a bit faster than the rest of the group of heavier-set flyers. It was clear who Meadow thought should get the Seeker position. She and Daphne cheered each time Terence caught the Snitch. His face lit up the first time as he realized the girls were there for him. He waved at them slightly before turning in attention back to the try-outs.

After the Seeker group went, the try-outs were dismissed as Flint had to choose who he wanted his team to be. Flint was so focused on winning the whole season, even the teammates from last year had to retry. Although the captain was all muscle and very little brains, Meadow thought that it was fair yet harsh that the team would be switched up from the previous year. Granted, if you had someone who sucked on the team last year, it would be best to replace them for the new year. It made sense, but in that same fairness, shouldn't the captain also be replaceable? But that was eleven-year-old Meadow's thought process.

The two girls headed down from the stands. Meadow noticed that Terence didn't wait up for them, and a small pang hit Meadow's chest. Meadow had figured that Terence would wait up for those two, considering Meadow had thought they had a nice friendship going on. Possibly, Meadow thought it was enough for a crush. But she never had a crush before. She didn't know what it was like to really like someone. George Weasley popped into her head though, her heart always raced when she saw him. And the hope of seeing him in the halls between classes rushed in her body, tinging with excitement from seeing him and in disappointment when she didn't see him.

She knew she shouldn't expect anything from Terence, he was a second year after all, and they didn't hang out as much as she did with her friends. It still hurt a bit, however, and Meadow couldn't pin down just why. Daphne noticed Meadow's quietness but opted not to say anything to her about it. Instead,
Daphne suggested they headed to the common room, where Theodore would be with Gabriel and Bhu. The boys didn't want to go to the Quidditch Pitch for Try-Outs. They said it would just remind them that they weren't allowed to try out until next year.

After watching, Meadow knew exactly how they felt. She wanted to be down there, flying her own broom and racing around, dodging players, and scoring goals. Next year, she'd try out for the position of a Chaser.

-.-.-

In the following days, Meadow and her father met on Sunday, where the two ate cucumber sandwiches and cakes with their tea. She caught Severus up on how her week went, leaving out the part where she snuck out of bed and ran away from Filch with the Gryffindors, not that he wouldn't know, of course. However, he didn't bring it up, and therefore, Meadow did not mention it either. He looked over the essays she already completed and gave her some pointers to rework a few sentences that dragged on too long or were jumbled. It was quite nice, meeting with her dad for a few hours. It was technically less time spent with him each week, but there was something pure about it. As when Severus would visit on weekends, he was constantly grading papers and hardly had quality time for Meadow. This time her father set aside for Meadow, she flourished in. Pleased to be given the extra attention from him that she hadn't had for six years.

When she left her father's office, she headed straight to the library. Where Meadow started to work on the revisions of those papers. The smell of the library was so different yet similar to the smell of her father's office, the earthy scent, yet instead of dirt and mint, it was a smokey scent in the library. Just as she was about to start reading about transfiguration and the ability to transform oneself into an animal, two boys walked by her and stopped shortly as they recognized her. Meadow's eyes widened as Harry and Ron had their mouths opened but a whisper caught in their throat.

Meadow was surprised that the Harry and Ron even knew anything about the library, considering she had never seen them there before. The three talked about the trapped door. Torn between happiness and sadness about the discovery the Gryffindors knew about the door under the monstrous dog. The three agreed that it must be the mysterious object that Harry saw Hagrid take from Gringotts on his birthday. But all they knew about the package was that it was two inches long, and not a clue of what it was otherwise.

"It's either really valuable or really dangerous," Ron said while they sat at a hidden table in the library.

"Or both," Harry replied, his voice lowered to a whisper. It was quite dangerous talking in the library. Madam Pince was always lurking around scolding students for doing anything to her books, kicking others out for sneaking food into the library, and jinxing books for their protection. She also hated people talking, whether it be for studying or not, she despised noise of any sort; and had kicked out people for it, bewitching their books, ink bottles, quills, and parchment to chase after them out of the library.

"What's strange is that it was moved from Gringotts, what is called the safest place in the world for anyone to store their possessions." Meadow added, "Best believe the goblins weren't too happy that whatever it is was removed by Hagrid. . . What did he say about it again? He had to visit Gringotts anyways?"

"Yeah. 'For Dumbledore. Hogwarts business.'" Harry replied as the thought dawned on him. "I wonder if we could get Hagrid to talk to us. . ."

Meadow shook her head, "Bad idea, Harry. It could get him in serious trouble."

With the thought of talking to Hagrid dismissed, she split up from the two. Frowning as she did so, she was hoping to run into Shane with them. However, they told her Shane had been feeling ill and went to the Hospital Wing in the morning. It was towards the end of the month, and Meadow did know that it meant that Shane and his father would usually travel to visit his mother's tombstone. They would every month around the same time, either the third or fourth week of the month. It didn't matter if it was the weekend or in the middle of the week, Remus would pull Shane out of school and they would pack up and leave.

She didn't think the cycle would continue once Shane went to Hogwarts though. Maybe it was time to try and start to see a pattern of when Shane would leave classes, as the rest of the day, Shane didn't turn up to lunch or supper. The following day, Shane still didn't show up, not even for Monday classes. Tuesday came around and still no sign of Shane, Meadow decided it was time for her to make a trip up to the Hospital Wing.

Meadow was becoming nervous about her missing friend, Harry and Ron hadn't see the other Gryffindor boy since Sunday morning, when the two stumbled upon her in the library. Before lunch, Meadow and the rest of the Slytherins had a break. Usually, Meadow would take the time to grab a shower after Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, but she didn't want to waste any time and headed straight to the Hospital Wing.

After getting into the castle she headed to the first floor, down some corridors, and to the large hall before the Wing. Meadow never met Madam Pomfrey yet, it was someone she never wanted to meet. Of course, she didn't know she would be seeing the matron a lot, let alone in two minutes.

Upon entering the hospital wing, through those huge, brass doors, Meadow saw Shane sitting at the edge of one of the white hospital beds. His face was hallowed, and dark circles were under his eyes. The white clothes that were required to be wore in the hospital wing fell off shoulders, as though he lost a lot of weight in a short period of time. Even his usual chubby cheeks seemed deflated.

"Walk," a voice said beside her, a motherly sternness.

Meadow's head whipped around to take in the matron, dressed in white and red robes with a white bonnet upon her head. "Sorry, Madam Pomfrey," the girl rushed out and immediately stopped in her tracks.

"Who are you here to see, Miss. . . ?"

"Snape," Meadow said quietly, before regaining her voice and added, "Here to see Shane Lupin. I heard he wasn't feeling well." The healer gave her a pointed look, clearly questioning why a Slytherin would be meeting a Gryffindor, or so Meadow thought as her cheeks heated up. "Shane's been my best friend since we was little. We went to Muggle school together."

Madam Pomfrey's face was still stern as her blue eyes gazed on Meadow's black ones. "No more than ten minutes. He needs his rest. Do tell Professor Snape, when you see him, that I am in need of some Blood-Replenishing Potion due to the upcoming Quidditch season."

Meadow nodded, accepting the task of letting her father know what the healer needed. Turning on her toes, she hurried over to Shane and knelt on one knee. "Shane?" Meadow said softly.

His brown eyes snapped to hers, though, slightly out of focus he looked like he was seeing through her. "Doe? What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you. You haven't been in class the last few days," she replied, her voice laced with concern. "Harry and Ron said you were feeling ill."

"I'm fine, just a stomach flu or something," Shane said and shook his head at her. "I'm fine, just tired."

"You look like just skin and bones. . ." Meadow said slowly, looking her friend over more, noticing the full lankiness of her friend. He was normally skinny, but his hospital clothes seemed to be looser than ever.

"I can't keep anything down," Shane shrugged. "Really, I'm fine. I'll be back tomorrow. Madam Pomfrey just wants me to stay one more night."

Meadow blinked at his shortness. "I'm sure Madam Pomfrey can give you a stomach soother. Have you asked?"

"Of course, she's given me everything I have needed," his eyes flashed with annoyance.

"Are you feeling ill about missing your dad?" Meadow asked softly.

Shane shook his head, "No it's not that. Although, it would be nice to see him now." He sighed.

"And your mother…?" she asked, even quieter.

"I don't see how this has to do with my mum at all," Shane replied, his eyes narrow and voice harsh.

Meadow frowned. "You and Remus always go to visit her every month. You stayed out of school for about three days like you will this time. I just didn't know if it's because you'd normally be there by now. . ."

"Ohhh," Shane exclaimed, like he had forgot about the monthly routine of visiting his mother's grave. "I forgot about that. No, no. Really, Doe," his voice shook. "It's nothing. Just don't feel well."

"Did you have any homework brought to you?" She changed the topic, despite Shane's dismissive tone.

"Madam Pomfrey went and collected everything already for me," Shane replied, voice still shuffling in pitch. "I'm tired," he added and leaned back into the bed. "Thanks for stopping by, Meadow, but I'm going to take a nap."

Meadow frowned as she looked at her friend. Usually Shane was much livelier than he currently was. He seemed too tired to be anxious about schoolwork, which was unlike him. "Okay. . ." she said sadly and got up. "If you need anything. . ."

"I know, I'll let you know. But Madam Pomfrey has me all taken care of," Shane's eyes fixed upon a window across from them. The sun that was once shining brightly had been covered by rain clouds. "Go and enjoy some fresh air. Remember how you'd always come find me to sit outside before a storm?"

"Yes, but that was just because I like the smell of the rain and earth. It always smells much sweet right before a storm," Meadow replied, smiling over the memories of their young childhood.

The hot summer sun pelted Meadow's neck as she played outside. She was pretending a normal, old stick was a wand and she was practicing her dueling stances as she made up words to spells she didn't know.

"Impetus! Bullarum! Glacies crepito! Obstructionum!" She shrieked out, bubbles of giggling upon her lips as she shouted out random words and sounds, waving the stick around and pointing it at a particular clump of long grass. She rolled out of the way and pointed the stick back at the clump of grass. Her right arm held out the stick and her left arm was shoulder height and bent for balance.

That clump of grass was no normal grass for Meadow; no, it was a bandit. A scoundrel. A thief. A man with pitch black, short hair, and glowing red eyes with pale skin. Except, you couldn't see any of this as he had black robes around him with the hood up, just barely able to see the black, gold, and red mask underneath, covering up his face.

"I'll never back down!" Meadow shouted at the man, jutting forward and poking the stick towards him. A blue light shot out from her wand. But the man was too quick, he magicked the spell away without breaking a sweat.

"Hy-Ya!" Meadow panted out as she shot spell after spell at the man, who deflected them with no problem, until he was behind on one, and now the man was stumbling backwards trying to dodge and protect himself.

Sweat trickled down Meadow's temple. "Is that all you've got? You don't want to attack? Coward!" She shouted at him.

If there was one lesson Meadow learned that day, it was never to call a man a coward. . . unless one was truly trying to patronize that person into a fight. As now it was Meadow's turn to deflect and shield herself from the oncoming spells the man was throwing at her. As she dodged, rolled, and threw messy shields up to protect herself from the man, she started to pant.

Finally, she was able to roll out of the way from a red curse and cast her own that hit the man directly in the chest. The shot sent the man flying backward. Meadow grew closer to the man, breathing heavy as her wand was trained on him. "Any last words?"

"You'll regret this," the man spat out and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Meadow shook her head, the bloody cheat. Even as an eight-year-old, Meadow's wish for the wizarding world and hunting bad guys was evident. Of course, that drive to rid the world of evil did stem from her mother's accident. Upon accepting defeat from the man, Meadow threw herself down on the ground, looking up at the sky, catching her ragged breath.

The air had changed from her run-in with the man/clump of grass. It grew sweet and thick. Meadow jumped up, forgetting her wand/stick, and raced towards home. "Going to Shane's!" she shouted quickly at Ms. Kashmire, as she grabbed her deep, forest green raincoat and an old, brown, worn bag from the front entrance.

She raced out of the house before the old woman could yell at her to stop. Meadow quickened her feet to as fast as they could carry her over to the next three blocks over. A place where no one wanted to live, and no place for a child to grow up in. The houses all were run down and either abandoned or in ruins. The cobblestone street hadn't been kept up and bits of the stone were either missing, out of place, or jutted out of the earth in a twisted direction. Random garbage, appliances, and furniture were out on the street corners for those who wanted the garbagemen to pick it up, give away for free, or just out of the houses. The whole block seemed to be under a gray spell. But it didn't matter to Meadow, she didn't care what clothes Shane had nor how old and rundown the Lupins' home looked. They were kind people. Welcoming and homely. The sky was growing darker, and a soft rumble of thunder was heard in the distance.

A small splatter of cool water smoked Meadow right in the center of her forehead. Pushing faster still, Meadow turned the block and headed towards Shane's house. Panting, running short of breath, her cheeks red with blood, her sides and arms growing tired and worn, she arrived at the Lupins.

"I was wonderin' when you'd turn up!" Shane called to her from the porch. The wood was falling apart, splinters stuck up and the left side had completely collapsed from rotted wood. The people before Shane and Remus hadn't treated the house with respect and love. And Remus, well, he had a hard time keeping jobs because of his obsessive need to visit the tomb of his late wife. Meadow assumed the grief of becoming a widow so young consumed Remus into funny rituals and certain obsessiveness, such as, they are not allowed in the basement no matter what, Remus's constant state of worry as he looked around rooms over and over again. Little things that Meadow didn't find any issue with, because losing someone makes people do funny things.

Even when the person is still alive, but not a part of daily life. It feels like a loss. Meadow felt like she understood why Remus was the way he was, despite Shane's apologizes and embarrassment over his father. Meadow knew how it felt to lose someone. She felt as though a normal childhood had been taken from her- mother permanently in the hospital and father gone for months at a time, while she was left in the care of a wretched, old woman—well, that wasn't necessarily true, Ms. Kashmire was a nice lady, just very strict and always finding more and more ways for Meadow do chores as a way of punishment. Recently, the eight-year-old had been sent to the potions ingredient closest to dust off and organize the bottles and jars by size.

"Well I'm here now!" Meadow said to Shane as she drew close. "You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Shane replied, a small shake in his voice. He was nervous, no surprise there, but this time he was nervous about the upcoming storm. Shane was never a huge fan of thunderstorms. Nonetheless, the excitement that rolled off Meadow seeped into Shane's pores and pumped through his blood gave him enough courage to venture out with the girl.

The water falling from the somewhat sunny sky had turned into a light sprinkle. There were still sun streams in the atmosphere, and the two children headed off towards the backyard. The two arrived at a small tree house Remus had put together for Shane (and Meadow). The old wood had been treated and sanded down to perfection so they wouldn't get any splinters from it. It wasn't much, it was almost like a large doghouse with huge windows. The outside looked worn and disheveled, with the different types of wood and coloring of the wood. The windows were of all different sizes and sometimes crooked. There was no door, just a large multicolored curtain that hung on an old shower rod. But the inside. . . the inside was amazing, had more room than one would think. There was space for a small, worn brown couch, with two massive, soft beanbag chairs a maroon color on one side. On the other was a table with three chairs around it, a bookshelf next to it with all sorts of board games. There were a few lanterns with candles hanging around, so they didn't have to worry about any electric hook-ups or disturbing anyone with annoyingly bright lights at night.

Meadow threw her bag down and pulled out a bowl and lid. She had a habit of storing rainwater for her father to use in potions. And she was intrigued that rainwater had healing properties all on its own. Granted, this could all be played off as a child's imagination. She pulled out five more mason jars of different sizes, all with lids, and all for a variety of different rain types. She opened all of them up and had a marker to label the tops of which rain was caught in the containers.

"General." She wrote on top of the big bowl's lid. Shane went and put the bowl in the open area before the club house. "Looks good!" Meadow called to him and he hurried under the roof, not that the rain had picked up yet. It was still sprinkling, just a bit harder now.

The sweet scent of the earth filled Meadow's nostrils as she and Shane plopped down and watched out the door frame. She had pulled the curtain aside, not that it mattered much, as the windows let in a bunch of light. On the backside, it was almost the whole wall that was a window. But the door let a nice breeze of fresh air into the club house. Too nice to pass up.

Meadow leaned her head on Shane's shoulder, looking up at the funny weather. Mostly bright, sunny sky with rain falling. A sure sign that this would be one wild summer storm. Her father wasn't home yet, the staff had to say an extra week to close their offices and Hogwarts. Safety inspections occurred with the Ministry of Magic, any last-minute parents wanting to meet with the teachers, and of course, the staff all celebrated together by going down to The Three Broomsticks and share a few rounds. It was fine, it didn't hurt Meadow much, not this year. She had grown used to the Muggle school schedule, having Ms. Kashmire watch after her every day, and seeing her father during weekends and on breaks. She really leaned on Shane for support, and Remus too. The two Lupins were just as much of her family as her father was.

"How'd ya know it was gonna rain?" Shane asked her, relaxing his head upon hers and resting a hand on her elbow.

"The ground," Meadow replied. "I've told you before, when you start to smell that earthy scent, it'll rain. It's gonna storm today, though."

"Why's that?" he asked. "Oh wait," he teased her. "The air!"

"It is the air!" she exclaimed with a smile. Meadow knew that Shane's sarcastic comment was all in good fun.

A rumble of thunder grew closer and suddenly the sky darkened. Meadow grabbed a medium sized mason jar, uncapped it and brought it out in the rain. It was a fairly decent strain now. Water pitter-platted on the wood roof and splattered harshly on the hood of Meadow's raincoat.

Dark clouds came rushing over the little town, thunder started to grow closer, and the lightning, while, was seen in the clouds flashing angrily. Just as Meadow was about to set the jar down, thinking it would take a few minutes for the next phase of the storm to hit, it started downpouring.

Shrieks and yells echoed between Meadow and Shane. Meadow covered the one mason jar she had in her hand as Shane brought out two more. Swearing like a sailor with how harsh the rain started to pour. Meadow capped the first mason jar, labeling it "RAIN." As the next two would be labeled as "POURING." Two mason jars left, one was the smallest and the other was the biggest. Meadow hoped she would catch a lot of the storm water. It was supposed to be the best cleansing water of all the rainfall. Of course, it is completely possible that it was just a myth, but still, it was something the girl truly wanted to believe in.

The next few moments were chaos as Meadow quickly scribbled on the labels for the two mason jars Shane was holding. One was already overflowing. The panic and adrenaline that set in increased by five as the thunder came roaring over them. The flashes of lightning grew closer, with bolts touching trees and posts. Meadow grabbed the last two jars and hurried out, ushering Shane back into the club house. Meadow held her hands up high, they were in the center of the storm now.

As she stood, in the sheets of rain that pounded down on her, Meadow's arms started to grow tired. She made the decision to set the large jar down on the grass, next to the bowl that had clearly overflowed by ten times now. She brought the little jar in and sealed it up, marking it "STORM."

Just as the two started to enjoy the show, a loud roar of thunder rang through their ears, shaking the ground, and a huge lightning strike was encompassed in the remaining mason jar.

"BLOODY HELL!" The two screamed together in shock, disbelief, and surprise by the closeness of the storm.

Shakily, Meadow grabbed a pair of oven mitts from her bag, shoved them over her soaking hands, and went out to the jar. She noticed flicks of yellow appear in the water. The sheets of rain were still hitting her harshly, but she couldn't let the water go to waste. Especially now, with a lightning bolt kissed water. Gathering all her strength together, Meadow picked up the jar and rushed back to the club house. Quickly sealing the jar and putting a lightning bolt on it.

"What was that." Shane demanded.

But all Meadow could do was shake her head, she didn't know what had happened or how. All she knew was that somehow, her plain old, Muggle mason jar just caught a lightning bolt.

Despite the terrifying end of that memory, it was one of the best ones she had of storm watching with Shane. The storm came out of nowhere, latest the shortest of the summer before pouring for five days later. Once it had stopped raining, the bowl that Meadow and Shane set up was a mucky brown. Nevertheless, Meadow still capped it up and took it back to her house, only to be stored in the basement cooling room until her father came home. The bottled lightning was for another time to remember upon.

"You sure you don't want me to stay? We could storm watch together?" Meadow asked him, hopeful and hesitant.

Shane shook his head, "Go enjoy that storm air." He turned to face her. "I know you love that smell."

A sad smile crossed Meadow's face, "I'll see you later then. . ."

Eyes on the verge of tears, Meadow watched the smooth, seamless floor pass her feet as she walked out of the hospital wing, defeated. She knew he was mad at her about the Wizard's Duel, but he never let her explain. He dodged her in the corridors and avoided her during breaks and mealtimes. As she wandered the halls, trying to figure out what to do with the rest of her lunch break, as her appetite had disappeared, she unknowingly caught the attention of two mischievous Gryffindors. She chewed her lip as she looked out of a castle window.

It was gloomy out, not a pretty look for a storm. The visit with her mother came to mind, it too was an ugly storm. It was not the first time it had happened with Sadie, nor would it be the last. Meadow took a deep breath in and sank against the wall, looking out the opposite window into the abyss of misty water and mountains that surrounded the castle. Unaware of the twins watching her with wondering eyes.

George whispered something to Fred and the oldest twin headed off as the youngest took a seat next to Meadow. "Rough day?" He asked softly and Meadow flinched.

"Oh!" She gasped. "I didn't even notice you."

George smiled at her, "Didn't mean to frighten you."

"You really ought to work on your introductions," Meadow replied, teasing him as she masked her sadness. She wiped her tears away quickly with the back of her hand. "You're without your other half?"

"We aren't always together," he replied softly, studying her face. "You seem troubled."

"It's. . . it's nothing really," Meadow responded, her face flashed into a saddened expression before a forced smile rested yet again. "Just a bit of a rough time with classes today."

"You came from the hospital wing," George called her out on her bullshite. He raised a hand up, "If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine."

"Why do you even care?" Meadow asked, a whine laced her voice as she tried to sound annoyed—it didn't work. She fidgeted with her school skirt, the black skirt had creases in it with overlapping material, it was long, though, Meadow found out that most upperclassmen had taken to cutting off a few inches for the skirt to be more flattering. She didn't care about it, however, the uniform wasn't exactly a work of art.

George shrugged, "Figured you had enough people hating on you recently you could use an ear." He leaned forward and wiggled his ear.

Meadow stifled a laugh, "So what sort of prank are you and Fred coming up with today?"

"Who said I'm not Fred?" The Weasley twin replied, looking aghast. "How dare you call me George."

She pursed her lips together, shaking her head, and rolled her eyes. "I think I'd be able to tell you two apart. Besides, George was the one who does need a warning label on his forehead telling people he's dangerously awful at greeting others," Meadow's voice was light as she teased him about the night on the train, where he fell into her and clucked heads together.

"It was an accident!" He exclaimed.

"See, knew it was you, George," Meadow smirked.

"Alright, well you caught me," He replied, smiling at her. "So, what's really on your mind? You look blue."

Meadow's smirk faltered. "Just Shane. He's in the hospital wing. That's why I was there."

"Lupin?" George asked and she nodded. "Heard he was a bit ill. Been there since Sunday, I'm surprised Madam Pomfrey hasn't released him yet."

"Said tomorrow he'll be out," Meadow replied. "I just worry about him. He's not exactly the best at. . . making friends. . ."

"He's alright," George replied, confused. "Him, Harry, and Ron all get on like a gnome in a garden."

"Don't gnomes destroy gardens?"

"Aye, but that don't mean gnomes don't love gardens," George replied with a shrug. "What I mean to say, is Lupin seems to have made friends just fine so far. He's just sick, no need to worry so much." He knocked his shoulders on hers before looking out of the window at the storm brewing.

Meadow studied the boy, his cheeks and nose were splattered with freckles, his jaw starting to become defined under the baby fat on his face, his eyebrows were a bit darker than his ginger hair, and his eyes. His eyes were of a blue color, with hints of orange in them. She found her face and body heating up, so hot that she had to slip off her robe to cool down. "It'll be a nasty storm tonight," Meadow said suddenly as she pulled her eyes off George. She sank into the cool floor and wall, trying her best to not overheat; she didn't want him to know she was staring at him.

"What makes you say that?" The Gryffindor asked.

"The color of the sky," Meadow replied her eyes on the gross greenish-blue sky, before pointing to the forest, "The trees bent by the wind."

The bell rang, signaling that lunch was over, and Meadow hadn't got the chance to eat anything. Pulling her robe back over her shoulders, George stood up and offered her a hand. She took it, noticing that her face flushed with the physical contact. "Thanks," she said and looked into his eyes.

"My pleasure," the Gryffindor responded, his cheeks pink as well.

As Meadow picked up her bag, she grabbed his wrist as he stood, awkwardly. "No, really, thank you. For sitting with me."

"Looked as though you needed some company," George brushed her off with a small smile. "Best be off, wouldn't want to be late for class."

"Right, see you," Meadow replied and headed towards Transfiguration. She'd be with the Ravenclaws for the next two hours. After Transfiguration, the Slytherins and Ravenclaws had Charms together.

During class, she couldn't stop thinking about George Weasley. How kind he was, despite how much trouble he and Fred get into with their tricks and pranks. She also couldn't understand why anyone would show her that sort of kindness due to her last name. Especially one of the Weasleys. Granted, Ron wasn't too bad. Not yet, at least. But it was only the second week of term. A lot could change in a month. And yes, it did storm quite nastily that night.

-.-.-.