Ever since Rita Skeeter interviewed Harry Potter for the Quibbler, Mr. Cuffe would not allow her into any of the Prophet offices at all. Many people were upset that they were losing their "best" reporter, but Gwen saw it as a chance. Rita had always been top dog at the Prophet, and now she was gone. The spot was open and calling her name.

She was given more assignments than usual, but that wasn't what made one the best. Rita usually only wrote one article per week, but it was always the most important one. Gwendolyn needed to write about something fantastic, something that would bring her name into the light. But nothing was happening of great, monumental importance, not since Umbridge was made Headmistress.

On a Tuesday morning, an owl flew over her cubicle, dropping a note.

Gwennie,

I want to meet you at the Leaky Cauldron around 10 tonight. I've got a story I need you to write.

-Rita xoxo

Gwen was immensely curious. Rita was writing for every publication but the Prophet and rumor had it she was working on a new book. Gwendolyn couldn't imagine what paper this was for or what it was about, but she was anxious to find out.

Rita Skeeter had been her mentor when she started at the Prophet. Gwen had looked up to her since day one. Rita was pushy and knew what she wanted and always got it.

But then Gwen learned about how dishonest Rita was in her writings. The blonde reporter would brush it off as "exaggerating", but Gwen knew better. There was no need to write untrue things, no matter how nearly true they were.

But even so, Gwen still wanted to know what the note was about.

At 10, Gwen went to the pub and there was Rita Skeeter, sitting at the table Gwendolyn and Snape had sat at nearly three months ago. Despite her "awful life" (Mr. Cuffe was speaking extremely ill of Rita as of late), she still looked just as flashy. Feathers in her hair, her green glasses matching her emerald robes, her makeup absolutely perfect. Gwen always felt plain next to Rita Skeeter. She crossed the bar and stood in front of the blonde woman. "Hello Rita," Gwen greeted emotionlessly. Rita looked up and flashed her classic Rita smile.

"Gwennie darling! I'm so glad you could make it! Sit down! I'll order us firewhiskeys!" She gestured towards the bartender, who seemed to know instantly what Rita wanted. And thus was the true magic of Rita Skeeter.

Gwen sat down across from her, trying to look as impressive as possible. "How have you been, darling?" Rita asked sweetly.

"Wonderful," Gwen said with a smile. The waitress put down the drinks. "Nothing like a good firewhiskey," Gwen said, trying to sound casual. "You know, there are neon meads in Knockturn Alley." Merlin, she was so awkward.

"That's nice dear," Rita said, completely uninterested. She took a gulp of her firewhiskey, gracefully, of course, then smiled at Gwen. "Now, my darling, I have an assignment for you!"

"I hope I can take it on," Gwen said sweetly, suddenly becoming very interested in her nails. "It's been awfully busy at the Prophet as of late." She knew she could handle it, but she wanted Rita to think she was a bit more successful than she really was. And besides, she wasn't sure she wanted to write an article for Rita. Sometimes Mr. Cuffe became irked when his writers wrote for other papers. However, Gwen never said no to Rita. She just simply was not brave enough to turn down the woman whom she once had on a pedestal.

"I've been writing for Witch Weekly," Rita explained. "And I've been getting lots of letters from women in this area about a certain wizard they're all interested in! Can you guess who it is?" Gwen was about to guess when Rita laughed. "Oh, you'll never guess! I'll tell you, you sweet thing! Severus Snape!"

Gwen nearly spit out her firewhiskey at the mention of the name. "Snape!"

"I know! Oh Gwennie, I've always called him the mystery man!"

Gwen raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure these letters aren't just from silly girls in Hogwarts who have a crush on their professor?"

Rita rolled her eyes. "Maybe a few. Who cares! He's in high demand! I need you to write about him in a manner that'll make girls drool."

She suddenly got nervous. Why did Rita think she could do it? Did she know? Did people know she had slept with Snape? Or was this something more sinister- a plot to expose him? He was a spy. Everyone in the Order knew that the number one rule about Snape was not to discuss him in any capacity to outsiders. It could mean the war- or his life. Her stomach filled with dread. "So… why do you need me to do this exactly?"

"You're beautiful. You're young, a little flirty. Just talk him up at a pub, ask him about his sex life, if he can brew a love potion." Rita winked and Gwen nearly gagged. "Besides, you know him- he was your teacher, wasn't he?"

Relief flooded her body for a moment. She didn't know and this was definitely not an elaborate plan. Still, she could not do it. "Yes, he was. But Rita… I don't think I have time to go chasing after Snape to get answers he won't give." She felt a bit timid, shaking slightly at the knees. Rita's eyes were piercing and demanding. It was how she got her answers.

But Gwen would not give in. This was a waste of time and she could not be publically responsible for an article like this. Her friends would be floored. Dumbledore too. "I won't do it."

Rita suddenly looked upset. "Well!" she huffed.

Gwen felt a surge of empowerment. She stood up gracefully and smiled. "Sorry, darling," she said, her voice sickly sweet. "But don't give up. I've heard he has a thing for redheads."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I don't want this to be awkward anymore," Sirius said abruptly the next night as they sat alone in the sitting room at Grimmauld Place

"Me neither," sighed Gwen, putting down her crossword instantly. She looked at him sadly. "I don't know what to say. I can't take back sleeping with him."

"I know," Sirius muttered. "I'm sorry I was so nasty. I know war is hard and sex… it's a good temporary fix. I just wish it wasn't with Snape!"

"Oh well," Gwen said, standing up and walking across the room to the other sofa where Sirius sat. "I can't unfuck him." She sighed and sunk into the cushion beside her friend, who looked at her strangely.

"You miss him, don't you?" Sirius said sadly.

She looked up at him with an eyebrow raised. "It was a one night stand, Sirius."

"Not Snape! Bill."

She fell silent, as she did whenever she heard his name or saw him. He hadn't spoken to her in months and it broke her heart over and over again. She felt so stupid all the time. Her heart was shattered and she did not feel capable of loving anyone ever again.

She knew it wasn't true. She would love again. But could she ever love anyone the way she loved Bill?

"Yeah," she admitted softly. "I really do."

"He's a prick, Gwennie," Sirius said reassuringly. "Look at you. You're a nice girl. You're young, you're fun, you're a good person. You shouldn't be wasting away over Bill."

"I know," Gwen said sadly. She felt the tears coming back again but she quickly controlled herself. Sirius took her hands.

"I've known you for nearly a year now," Sirius said. "You've been great. You really have. We've had lots of fun in this shack, haven't we?" Gwen nodded and smiled. "You're one of my best friends and I don't like to see you sad because some wizard ran off with a French girl. I'd rather you be my friend than any French girl." Gwen laughed and she hugged Sirius Black.

"It's funny," she said smiling. "After seeing your mugshot a million times, I never thought you were such a great person."

"Never judge a book by its cover," he said cheerfully. "Now, I know you're a bit down about your problems, but shall we discuss our good friends Remus and Tonks?"

"Oh yes," she said eagerly. "I think they'll finally say they're dating in June!"

"No they won't!" Sirius scoffed. "Not when the kids come back!"

"Then when?" Gwen whined. "They're taking much too long! She's fancied him since October!"

"He's fancied her for quite a while too," he muttered. "He's just a prick sometimes." He suddenly made a face of false seriousness. "Gwen, we need to make a pact right now."

"Why?"

"You know, when people in a group start dating, the group falls apart," Sirius explained quickly. "So when our dear friends begin their relationship, promise we'll be there third-wheeling together." He held out his hand, extending his pinky. She smiled and wrapped her pinky around his.

"Promise."

XXXX

"I didn't realize that having a sleepover meant you would be shitfaced drunk and passed out on the bed before I even got home from work," Gwen muttered as she tucked Tonks into her bed at Grimmauld Place one early April night. She sighed. She had been looking forward to spending time with her friend, eating candy and acting like girls. Tonks had ranted and raved about how much fun they would have, but obviously today had not been a good day. She only got this drunk when she had a bad day.

Gwendolyn adjusted Tonks's head under the pillow, then turned off the lights and slipped out of the room. She sighed again and went to find Sirius. His bedroom door was closed and locked. Obviously he had not had a good day either. It was only 10.

She had no desire to go home, so she went into her room and changed out of work clothes and into sweatpants and a tshirt. She was still hungry and wondered if anyone had brought anything particularly good in the past few days. She hurried down the stairs, careful not to wake her friends or any portraits, and went into the kitchen. She opened the fridge and inside was an entire chocolate cake, from a bakery Tonks frequented in Diagon Alley. Her mouth watered excitedly, perhaps more excitedly than it should've.

"Oh Tonks, you're still my favorite person," she said, pulling it out and putting it on the counter. She was searching for a knife to cut it with when the front door slammed open and the sound of howling wind rang through the hall.

"HALFBLOODS, SCUM, DIRTY BLOOD IN THE REVERED HOUSE OF THE BLACK!"

"Shit!" Gwendolyn whispered, hurrying over to hush the portrait. When she had covered Sirius's ugly mother and shut the front door, she hadn't even noticed who it was who had disturbed the peace. She turned and leaning against the wall, shaking, was Severus Snape.

"Snape?" She said softly. He glanced back at her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he muttered, making his way into the kitchen, still shaking fervently. She followed him, not convinced. "Were you planning to eat the whole thing?"

She sighed. Even when in pain this man was unbearably rude. "I was looking for a knife," she countered. He grasped his hand onto the counter to steady himself, then pulled out his wand. "Segmentun!" And the cake sliced into eight equal slices. She felt awfully embarrassed and annoyed that he had to do that.

"Sorry, I'm exhausted," she muttered. "But thank you." He sat down, still shaking, at the counter, and she put the rest of the cake away and got him a glass of water. He raised an eyebrow. "I don't believe that you're okay."

"And why not?"

"Because you're shaking."

"I'm cold."

"You're also wearing your Death Eater robes."

Now it was his turn to feel embarrassed. "It is not anything severe," he said coolly.

"Just drink the water, Snape," she said coldly. "I may not be a Healer or an Auror, but I know Cruciatus tremors when I see them." He said nothing, but took the glass in his shaky hand and started to drink. She had not spoken to him since they had slept together four months prior, besides their short conversation outside of Grimmauld Place the following evening. "You ought to be careful. You know they can cause-"

"Permanent nerve damage. Yes, I'm aware. I certainly do not want to shake like this permanently, but I'm afraid there isn't much I can do." For the first time that night, she wasn't annoyed by his rudeness. She deserved it.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. He said nothing and she took the glass from him. He was still shaking. "Why did you come here and not Hogwarts?"

"I didn't want to see Dumbledore," he said and she was surprised by his response. He never spoke ill of Dumbledore.

"Why not?"

"I'm not quite in the mood to relive my night just yet."

Oh. That made sense. "You should just stay here tonight." He shook his head immediately.

"You really think Black would allow me to sleep in his house?"

"He's asleep," she argued. "And this isn't just his house. It's the Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix and any Order member is allowed to stay here." Snape still didn't seem convinced. "Besides," she said, her voice low. "This wouldn't be the first time you've slept over here."

"And how well did he take that when he found out?"

"How...how did you know that he knows?" She asked, her eyes widened in surprise.

"It's my job to know." Of course. Damned good spy. She sat down silently with a fork and started eating her cake. "Has he forgiven you for it?"

"I thought you knew everything," she muttered into her cake.

"I have to find the information out one way or another."

"He forgave me. Though there wasn't anything to forgive, in my opinion." She suddenly felt rude for eating in front of him. "Would you like some? Or something else? Tea?"

"I'm fine." His violent shakes had subsided but she could still see a slight quiver in his hands and she sighed.

"Fine, but you ought to stay the night. There are a bunch of empty bedrooms on my floor." He looked like perhaps he was going to relent, but then the front door opened again and the sound of boots came from the hall. Snape stood up immediately. "I ought to report to Dumbledore now." He said quickly. He turned and in the doorway was Bill Weasley. She nearly dropped her fork.

"Wotcher, Professor," he said, but Snape quickly strode past him and they heard the front door close. Bill seemed to grimace and had no choice but to look at her. "Wotcher, Gwen."

She nodded at him, then became interested in her cake. "Wotcher." Dammit. Like usual, her interaction with Snape, despite how depressing it had been, had distracted her from Bill. But it was all for naught now.

"I think I left some of my books here. Have you seen any of them?"

"No." She bit into the cake, though she was now the opposite of hungry, and still would not look at him. He sighed and she heard him leave the kitchen. Part of him wanted to go follow him and help him find the book, to speak to him and be near him. But the smarter part and the still wounded part did not. She left the cake on the counter and darted up the stairs.