A/N: Oh my goodness. I physically abandoned this story a year and a half ago, but I've always had a very clear idea of where I wanted it to go (I actually have chapters written during 4th and 5th year) so I couldn't bring myself to leave it for good. So here I am, back. Third year was always my least favorite of Avalon's journey, and so it was difficult to force myself to finish it. This one feels a little rushed but I promise we're on an uphill ride now because I'm getting to the good stuff. Please forgive me. I don't own Harry Potter, just the Steele family.

As the weather changed, it seemed like no one could think about anything other than the break-in. Every theory was as outlandish as the last. Theo was regaling his classmates with a drawn-out tale about a potential method Black used to get into the castle. Tracey Davis seemed to be believing every word. Blaise was not.

"You can't be serious. I doubt Sirius Black found some mythical enchanted shovel and tunneled under the school," said Blaise with a sigh.

"It's not just any shovel," Theo snapped. "It was forged by goblins and can dig faster than any man. It hasn't been seen in centuries, which makes sense. No one would know Black had it if no one knew where it was to begin with."

"How would he get from the tunnel into the school? I doubt some magic shovel could get through the floor."

Theo opened his mouth to retort, but closed it. "I get it. You don't believe."

"No, I believe. I believe you're an idiot."

"Git."

The first Quidditch match of the year was between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. It had originally been scheduled for Gryffindor and Slytherin, but if Draco was good at anything, it was drawing things out, and he was going to milk his injury for everything it was worth. He told them how his father was trying to get the Board of Governors to agree to his punishments for the attack—the execution of Buckbeak. He would have tried to get Hagrid the same fate if he could, but as determined of a man he was, Lucius was definitely a realist.

The turnout for this Quidditch match was the same as the others, but the chattering students coming down the lawn towards the pitch and the stands moved hurriedly and hunched over to keep the rain away from their faces. It was a horrible downpour, and the wind was just as awful. Tracey Davis' umbrella was blown away, but an older student nearby waved her wand and brought it back down.

As they settled into their seats, it was clear that students had taken necessary precautions for the inclement weather. Some had cast warming charms, while others enlarged umbrellas or pulled out large blankets. Crabbe and Goyle spread a tattered tablecloth across their laps and began taking smuggled food from breakfast out of their pockets to eat during the match.

Avalon snorted. "Some things never change." She was squinting at the pitch and trying to follow the players with her eyes.

On Avalon's right, Draco clutched his arm. He gave a loud whimper for anyone who would listen—which was no one.

Over the course of the game, the score went up and so did his complaints. It was too cold, his arm was just throbbing, the bench was hard, his shoes were wet, the team was losing without him. Anything that could be a problem, suddenly was.

"Would you please shove off?" Daphne shouted after twenty minutes of Draco's incessant whining. "Your arm isn't injured, that was weeks ago! The only reason you're not down there playing is because you decided to milk the scratch you got from that hippogryff. One that was completely deserved, if I might add. Hagrid told you what to do and not to do and like always you decided that Malfoy knows best and went and got exactly what you deserved. Now you're having your father rain hell on Hagrid and that poor animal for something that was your fault entirely. There's always something with you. If it's not your arm, it's Potter. You take Crabbe and Goyle and strut around looking to pick fights with him because you're a spoiled brat who's jealous of all the attention he gets. I can't speak for the others, but I'm tired of your complaining!"

A hush fell over their friend group. Draco stood up, clutching his arm to his body like a mother cradling her baby in a busy marketplace. "Crabbe! Goyle! Let's go. I don't feel like watching the game anymore."

The other boys gathered their food and blankets and followed him out of the stands with confused looks on their faces. Blaise let out a low whistle.

"Daphne…" Theo said.

"I know," she said. Her facial expression softened as she watched Draco walk in the direction of the castle. "I shouldn't have been so hard on him."

Theo shrugged. "I think that he needed to hear it, because he can be insufferable, but I would have gone about it in a much nicer way."

DGDMVCGG

The last days flew by, with even less incident than the rest of the year. Daphne's snap at Draco had an effect on him for a week and half, but the girl got so tired of his sulking that she apologized and Draco was almost immediately back to his insufferable self. Avalon and her friends spent their time studying for their exams. They went fairly well. Although Avalon had performed a perfect Cheering Charm, the teapot she transfigured into a tortoise still had a tail.

They couldn't all be winners.

Draco was espeiclaly happy on the morning of their last exam, as it was the day that Buckbeak was meant to be sentenced. However, he was in another mood the next day before their Hogsmeade trip.

"The beast escaped!" he cried. "I don't know how the oaf did it, but he found some way to smuggle it to safety."

"It must cut you to your core that you were outwitted by the gamekeeper," Theo said. Draco banged his head onto the table in a fit of anger.

Blaise chuckled into his pumpkin juice, and Avalon couldn't help but join in. Daphne rolled her eyes at his antics. As annoying as he could be, their day-to-day lives would never be boring with Draco Malfoy around.

Exam results came out on the last day of term. All of Avalon's friends had their strongest subject, and since they had studied together, they each walked away with a very strong set of final grades.

And so, it was with light spirits that they pulled out of Hogsmeade Station in the direction of King's Cross.

Graham found her almost immediately. He wrapped his arms around her and spun her a little bit. "There you are." He kissed her cheek gently but didn't release her from his arms. "Promise me you'll write. Or better yet, visit."

"We'll see."

Avalon knew that her father would love the idea. If he knew about Graham's invitation he would waste no time forcing her to go and "undo all the damage" done by the Weasley family almost two years ago. She resolved not to tell him.

Avalon went back and joined her friends in their compartment for the remainder of the ride.

An hour and a half later, the train pulled into the station. Avalon and Daphne pulled their trunks behind them and prepared to dismount the train. She was going to be spending the first few weeks of the summer with the Greengrasses, as her mother was spending time with Great-Aunt Steele and Daphne hadn't wanted Avalon and her father to be alone in the house for such a long period of time.

For that, Avalon was grateful.

On the platform, they hugged the boys goodbye. It seemed silly, since they were often Flooing to each others' houses during the summer months anyway. They would all see each other the following week at Theo's house.

"Try not to daydream too much about Potter, okay? I'm sure that next year will be our year to win the House Cup," Daphne said to Draco.

"Not likely," he responded, but he was smiling.

They parted ways.

Avalon stopped by Neville and his gran to say goodbye as well. The old woman smiled at her. "You have to join us for tea this year. Neville hasn't stopped singing your praises about his marks in Potions, and I'd like to thank you properly."

"I will," Avalon promised.

Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass waved from further down the platform, and the girls started to move in their direction. Avalon stopped when she felt a hand grab her arm. She turned around and was met face to face with Finni—Seamus.

He was standing directly in front of her, the color of a beet.

"Hello," Avalon said.

Seamus didn't speak. He shuffled awkwardly from one foot to another, his hands behind his back. "Hi Avalon," he said finally.

"Have a good summer, Finnigan."

He smiled at her. "You too, Steele."

Avalon hugged the boy and turned to leave. Seamus reached out for her arm again. "I wanted to ask you if you had any plans over the summer? Me mum got tickets to the Quidditch World Cup for me, Neville, and Dean, but it turns out Neville's going to be on holiday with his Gran, so now we have this extra ticket. I would invite Harry or Ron but I didn't want to have to choose between them, Lavender doesn't like Quidditch, and I just remembered that you do so I was wondering if you'd like to—"

"I'd love to go." Avalon cut him off and hugged him again. "I look forward to it."

His smile widened. "Have a good summer."

"I'll respond to your letters this time if my meddling cousins stay in France."

The two enemies-turned-friends stood there for several moments, but neither one of them spoke. Finally, Daphne came up to them. "Are you ready Avalon? Astoria is practically dragging my parents off the platform. Oi, Finnigan."

"Greengrass."

There was no malice behind their greetings for the first time in three years, Avalon mused as she followed Daphne towards the rest of the Greengrass family. Maybe they were finally growing up.