A/N- I own naught but Marie Antoni, Sherwood Crotkis and his sister, plus the plot. But all other characters or settings are J.K. Rowling's. Except the part about "The Society", that's mine. This is not a complete chapter, but my ONLY reviewer was so insistent at having a new chapter… Enjoy!!

Chapter Two

Nightly study sessions occurred throughout the rest of the week. Sherwood and Marie practiced together, walked to classes together, and, except for the daily meals, were almost inseparable. Sherwood had discovered something as well: she was dismal at charms, one of his best subjects. So, kindly, he returned her favor. Under his guidance and instruction, she was steadily improving. By Friday night, however, they were both ready for a break.

"So I'll see you tomorrow at the front gates?" Sherwood inquired in the light of the many flickering lamps in the Library. "I can get you that butterbeer I promised you."

"Bright and early, you betcha." Marie stood from her seat, leaned on her tiptoes, and did something she never expected or meant to do. Marie Antoni had kissed him on the cheek. "See you," she whispered over her shoulder as she glided from the now silent Library.

Sherwood stood there, gazing after her, his eyes locked and heart pounding. He couldn't move. Rooted to the floor were his feet, as if he were standing in a tightening Devil's Snare. A hand clapping him on the back, which awoke him from his confused stupor, startled him. Ron Weasley and Harry Potter were standing right behind him, Ron wobbling slightly.

"Nice Crotkis," Harry said in an approving tone. "I had my eye on her for a little while. She's a bit to brainy for me you know," contempt filling his voice as he turned to leave.

"Good, I can tell Hermione you're taken then," Ron said, his words slightly slurred. "Now she can stop obsessing over you," he leaned in closer, "and obsess over me." He turned to leave also, tripping over his own feet in Harry's wake.

"Good luck, mate. You'll need it," Sherwood whispered to himself. Something was up with Ron, he thought he knew but wasn't sure. Sherwood watched as the gangly sixth year followed after his hero.

Sherwood gathered his things together, stowing them in his bag. As he lifted a particularly bumpy sheaf of parchment, he noticed something that was definitely NOT his: hidden under the sheaf of parchment was a mass of pink and white silk, in other words, Marie had left her favorite scarf in the Library. Sherwood picked it up, giving it a casual touch. It felt like her skin, soft and sweet. On impulse, he lifted the pink and white confection to his nose, smelling her. She smelled like lavenders and vanilla. Quickly, he stuffed it into his pocket, looking around him shiftily. When all was neatly stowed in his bag, just the way he liked it, he made his way up to the Hufflepuff common room, feeling a little light-headed.

Marie was sitting in the Gryffindor common room, her nose buried in a book, as the two friends came rioting in. They were laughing uproariously over something, greatly disturbing the room's peaceful environment. Hermione Granger called from across the room over their guffaws.

"Will you two keep it down? Some of us are trying to STUDY?"

They came thundering up to her, panting and wheezing from their noise. Ron, after much staggering and some falling, reached out an arm and lifted her to her feet by her elbow.

"We have bad news love!" Ron said, obviously, he had one too many Firebrand's Fire Whisky. For his brazen actions, he received a sharp slap across the face. "I mean Hermy! Guess what? That seventh year you are hopelessly in love with, obsessive I should say," Ron made a face at this, but it brightened with his next words. "Well we have some bad news, he's been taken."

"Really now, what makes you think I am 'hopelessly in love' with Sherwood Crotkis? Anyhow, who is it?" Hermione asked, pushing the obviously drunk Ron into a chair.

Ron raised a shaking finger, pointed across the room, gave a mighty guffaw, and then passed out then and there. Hermione glared at Marie, who stole up the stairs to the dormitory. Hermione and Harry each took one of Ron's arms and hauled him up the stairs, letting him hit his head on the ceiling once or twice.

In the dormitory, Marie flung herself on her bed, shutting the curtains as she did so. Ginny Weasley was also in the room, though Marie ignored her. Sleep claimed her instantaneously. Hours later, in the bitter watches of the night, Marie sat straight up in her bed, the sheets tangling around her legs.

"I can't believe I did that. I actually kissed him!"

The glorious sun broke through the clouds that beautiful Saturday morning. The Hogsmeade trip was a bright shining spot in the gloomy lives of those students that could go. Sherwood came to slowly, gazing about him with eyes that dripped with sleep. He rubbed his eyes then stood and walked to the mirror. Catching a glimpse of the clock, Sherwood gasped.

"Oh my gosh!" Sherwood exclaimed. He hurried as he tried to get ready, pulling on jeans and a sweater proved quite difficult. He attempted to flatten his rowdy curls, but to no avail. It was no use. As he pulled his cloak over his tall and lanky form, he grabbed Marie's scarf and tied it around his neck as she might. He grabbed his wand and some coins and rushed down the stairs, tripping a bit.

On the stairs that he rushed down, people giggled to see the pink and white striped scarf flying behind him. He didn't care however, he just ran as hard as can be, trying to get there before Marie. He knew the attempt was futile, but she was worth it.

In the Gryffindor dormitory, Marie Antoni was playing with her blonde curls, trying to figure out how to wear them that day. When she looked down from her reflection to grab her hairbrush, she gasped to see the clock. It was 8:45. She was already fifteen minutes late! Sherwood would be so angry. She dropped her hairbrush, grabbed her purse and her jacket, only then did she realize that something was missing. Her scarf! She must have left in the Library last night when she, oh dear. She had kissed him! The thought of Sherwood's soft cheek brought a set of goose bumps racing up and down her spine. She decided not to worry about it, but rushed from the dorm, her blonde curls flying.

On the landing in front of the doors, Sherwood was run into by a very short, curly haired blonde, obviously in a rush.

"I'm so sorry---- OH!" Marie exclaimed as she picked herself up, dusting herself and finally looking up at him. She smiled sheepishly. "Sorry I'm late, but I couldn't find my…" She noticed the bright pink and white scarf tied haphazardly around Sherwood's neck and grinned. "Cute, it becomes you."

He smiled, "You aren't late, I was. No one in my stupid dorm woke me up." He reached up to take off the silly scarf, but she reached up too.

"Wear it." They smiled and set off towards the front gates where Filch waited with the list of students allowed into Hogsmeade.

The day was bright and crisp, with a biting chill in the wind that caused many a student to huddle together while they waited to be let into the village. Marie was no exception; she stepped closer to Sherwood, he was tall enough to block the wind for her. He saw her blatant attempt to become warmer, and unraveled his own scarf from his neck, with the yellow and black stripes and handed it to her. She laughed, they were exchanging articles of clothes already! But she took it aside from that. She was warmer, but she looked like an idiot.

Finally, as Filch let them through the gates, Sherwood and Marie started walking towards the Three Broomsticks. Sherwood's legs were so long and his steps so wide at a normal gait that Marie had to almost run to keep up. Sherwood noticed, laughed and slowed down. They talked little as they walked, a bit to cold to hold a normal conversation.

Once inside, with a tall tankard of Butterbeer in front of both of them, they talked freely. The brightly lit pub was crowded with students vying for the best spots near the fireplaces. Sherwood and Marie had nabbed one of the best of them, while they had a clear view of the trio.

Hermione was wrestling a tankard of Butterbeer from Ron's grip. No doubt, she remembered his antics under the influence of way too many beverages from the pub. She obviously wasn't sure what a simple Butterbeer would do to him. Ron looked mutinous, but Harry laughed, bringing his own tankard to his lips. Ron finally retrieved his Butterbeer, while Hermione, slightly dripping, glared at him.

Sherwood was warm and happy, watching Marie enjoy herself with the other student's behavior. He decided to strike up another conversation.

"So, Marie, do you like, um, Quidditch?" Sherwood asked hesitantly.

"Quidditch? Heavens no!" Marie looked shocked that he'd be asking such a question. "I never liked the game. It seems to me to be such a waste of time, just people flying around on sticks, hitting stuff at each other and trying to throw a ball through some circles."

"And in that you would be wrong." Sherwood had noticed that Harry and Ron were staring at Marie, tankards stopped in midair on the way to their mouths. He dropped his voice. "Have you ever tried playing Quidditch?"

Now it was Marie's turn to blush, but that blush didn't last long. She shook her head, then took another swig of Butterbeer.

"Have you ever watched Quidditch?" Another shake. "Have you ever been flying?" Another shake, and Sherwood was astounded. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious, not like I want to. I was sick every time we had flying lessons in first year. You see," Marie paused, not wanting to confide, but wanting him to understand. "I'm afraid of heights."

Sherwood laughed, then stopped himself. "Oh, I'm sorry." He stifled his laughter with another healthy gulp from his Butterbeer, and it was gone. "Um, do you want another Butterbeer?"

"No, how about we get out of here?" Marie could feel the eyes of Harry and Ron, both on the Gryffindor team and in whose opinions Quidditch was the best thing since sliced bread, staring at her back, gleaming with hatred. "Um, you want to walk up to the Shrieking Shack or something?"

"Um, sure, if you want." Sherwood shrugged, then led Marie out of the warmth of the pub and into the crowded streets. The path wound up to the Shrieking Shack, with little stores like Honeydukes and Flourish & Blotts. They walked, in somewhat silence, then stopped.

"You want to go into Honeydukes?" Sherwood asked. "It's on me."

"Sure, but nonsense, I've got my money. Thanks though."

Once inside, they grabbed what they could through the crowds, including Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Fizzing Whizbees and mistakenly, some Cockroach Clusters. They didn't want to sit in there and be pushed and shoved through the room, so they stepped outside and sat on a bench.

"Um, do you know what Quidditch is about?" Sherwood said between bites of his chocolate frog.

"No not really, no one ever cared to engage me with the rules or anything. So I just kind of guessed I wasn't missing anything."

"Oh you are so wrong! Quidditch is the best sport in the world. I'll explain if you like." Sherwood smiled, showing a bit of chocolate on both sides of his mouth. Marie smiled too, as his was infectious.

"I'd like that," Marie whispered, wiping the chocolate from Sherwood's mouth. He caught her hand, holding it in his. It was dreadfully cold.

"Your hands are like ice!" Sherwood exclaimed, dropping what was left of his frog, and grasping her hands with both of his. She was startled.

"But, I'm not cold. They just get that way sometimes, I guess." She pulled her hands back and stuffed them in her pockets. She seemed uncomfortable. "Um, you want to keep, uh, walking?"

"Sure, I guess." Sherwood seemed worried, but stood as well. As they started to walk up towards the Shrieking Shack, stopping here and there in odd-shops, he launched into an explanation of Quidditch. They ended up turning around once more and heading back to the Three Broomsticks.

The hour was getting later, and Sherwood wanted to grab a Butterbeer before heading back to the castle.

"Another for you, milady," Sherwood said as he placed a tankard in front of Marie. She giggled and took a sip. She lifted her head from her tankard with a foam mustache on top of her upper lip. She made Sherwood laugh by not realizing what was there. He reached over and wiped it off with a napkin, still laughing.

As the afternoon dwindled away, Sherwood and Marie walked back to the front gates and up the sloping lawn.

"Gee, I didn't know I was missing so much by never understanding Quidditch," Marie admitted. They were almost to the front doors and it was almost time for dinner. "I had a lot of fun today, Sherwood. Thanks for everything." She took his hand and wouldn't let go until they walked into the Great Hall together, splitting only so that they could sit at their own tables.

Unbeknownst to them, another couple had entered the Great Hall behind them, also holding hands. The other pair made their way to the Gryffindor table, dragging an overly jealous best friend behind them.

That night, in the Gryffindor common room, two people sat with their faces to the fire, sharing a loveseat. Sitting next to them, in a large overstuffed armchair, was their best friend, with a tremendously sour look on his face. In the back of the common room, however, Marie was busy scribbling away in her notebook, a look of satisfaction on her face and a smile too.

As soon as she was finished writing whatever it was she was writing, she grabbed her tawny owl and tied the mall note to her leg.

"Thanks Bella, take it to Tybalt's owner, okay?" As soon as Bella had ruffled her feathers in Marie's face, she was off. Marie was as well, off to the dorm to grab her cloak.

Sherwood reached for the small, pink note tied to Bella's leg and opened it. Instantly he dashed up the stairs and into the boys' dormitory in the Hufflepuff house. He threw on a cloak and some cologne and ran down the stairs again.

In the drafty corridor, a dark classroom was lit with the light of two wands, and inhabited by two teenagers.

"Sherwood, there is something I need to tell you," Marie began, but was cut off short by a strong arm enveloping her waist and pulling her in for a kiss. "No, I need to tell you something.."

"Later," Sherwood murmured in her ear as he ruffled her hair.

"No, now." She pushed him away with all her strength.

Sherwood sighed, pushed back his dark curls and sat in a desk. "Shoot."

Marie sat down next to him. Her brow was furrowed and she looked troubled.