Hello to all my fabulous readers. I don't think anyone's reviewed yet, as I posted the last chapter fairly recently (well, for me anyway!) Thanks for any reviews, if I haven't got it yet. I don't own any of the following characters, excluding Forrest and Bert (in all future chapters, in case I forget).

"Bill? Mum told me you were down here with Forrest, like arguing or something. Are you done? I just got back from Romania, 'cause Dumbledore said I could have the weekend off." A deep, musical voice called down the stairs. It was definitely a male. Who was in Romania? God, that voice sounds familiar.

Oh, crap. He's nearly in the kitchen, and Bill is still a frigging candle, and I have no idea how the hell how to change him back.

"Um, yes we are done arguing," or at least, the yelling part, I wanted to add. "Who is that?" who the hell is it? This isn't funny. The name and the picture of this person are there, like the jam jar on the top shelf in the cupboard, just out of reach.

"Forrest? Is that you?" the disbelief in his voice was really obvious. And - OH MY GOD!

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FLASHBACK

It's my fourth year at Hogwarts. I turned fourteen two months ago, and now it's 12:01 am, Christmas Day. I am sitting in the Griffyndor common room, by the fire, writing out the last of my Christmas cards to my family. Hah. As if my father will care anyway. Maybe if I was in Slytherin, he'd care more. Not much, but take more note of my existence. But, if I was in Slytherin, then I wouldn't have met my current True Love. Hah, it's more like a major crush. I don't know what I'd prefer; my own father to acknowledge my existence within school grounds, and not have this True Love, but perhaps some creep from Slytherin. Maybe I'm just a stupid schoolgirl, hopping from one Love to the next. If only they knew the pain they put me through, the agony of loving them in silence, never letting them, or anyone else find out my private little secrets. Maybe I'll leave a card for him. He usually goes home for Christmases, to visit his younger brothers, Fred, George, and Ron. Does he even know I exist?

I hope you have a wonderful Christmas.

Love, your secret admirer.

On a separate piece of parchment, I drew a pair of swans, necks entwined to make a heart. A gift for him, my perfect love.

"Forrest," I heard a voice say. A deep and musical, males voice. Oh why does it have to be him? It makes my heart twist in agony that I cannot call him mine. How long had he been in here? "Isn't it time you were in bed?"

I could feel the colour rising in my cheeks. Oh, if only the godforsaken Head Boy knew the pain he caused me, by merely being in the same room as me. "I was just writing some last Christmas letters, Charlie." Oh, I do so hope he doesn't ask to have a look at them. That would be the absolute end of my life.

"Well, I'm off to bed. Don't stay up too much later; we don't want you to have black circles under your eyes. It's a big day." He started to come over to where I sat. I quickly shuffled my papers and put the letter I was writing to my father on top. He bent down, and gently kissed my lips. "Christmas luck, Forrest." He whispered, as he moved his head away from mine.

I gently pulled him back towards me, and softly kissed him back. "Christmas luck." I whispered back. He went up to the boys' dormitory, and I sat in my chair, staring in a love struck stupor.

"Well, where's my kiss? Bill, Forrest?" You really can't help but feel sorry for Bert sometimes.

"Bert, what happened to that Bob Marley concert you were going to?" he had a strange fixation with reggae music this week. Last week it was country and western.

"Well. You see, it turns out that Bob Marley is, well: dead. It was sad, very, very sad."

END FLASHBACK

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It's Charlie.

I haven't seen him for five years. He was my first kiss, from a male other than my father. Actually, did my father ever kiss me when I was growing up? I mean, I sucked at potions, and only passed because he couldn't have any child of his fail the subject that was his pride and joy.

"Charlie? Oh my god! I haven't seen you, like forever!" I wonder if he's still any good at kissing?

"Yeah, same to you. Hey, have you seen Bill anywhere? 'Cause mum said he was down here with you and Harry the fish. What did you do to him, anyway? Harry, I mean."

"Oh, long story. Involved an argument with Bill, and uncontrollable magic. And a story about dragons to comfort young Harry."

"And what about Bill? I don't see him in here. Nice candle. Where'd you get it?" AAARGH! This is going to take so much explaining. Out of all his brothers, Bill was his favourite.

"We-were-fighting-and-I-accidentally-turned-him-into-a-goddamn-candle-and-now-I-don't-know-how-to-turn-him-back-because-I-don't-know-the-right-goddamn-spell-and WHAT-THE-HELL-AM-I-GOING-TO-DO?"

"What? Slow down. I didn't get a word of that."

"Bill and I were fighting, because -" think fast, what did Bill do? I can't let him think that we were fighting because of that Fleur girl.

"Has anyone seen my tickets to the Elvis concert? Because I put them down, and now I can't find them. I'm taking Selma with me, and she's really excited!" thank god for all the Bert's in the world! I could almost kiss him right now. Nearly, but not quite.

Well, I know its kind of mills and boons-ish, and if it is too much, PLEASE say in your wonderful reviews. Lets all clap like loonies, because this is my longest chapter so far (yay me! (But it's still really short)). I can't believe I just wrote such mushy, lovey, ooeey gooey junk. Almost enough to make you vomit, really. Anyhoo thanks a bunch for all the reviews, you fabulous people!

Fish Stix Satay