Monday August 7, 1995
It's Mum's personal house elf who wakes me. I notice immediately that Tabby isn't dressed in her usual tea towel but in the velvet cloth she manipulates into a toga. She only wears this when she and Mum are going out. Tabby tells me my parents want to see me in the foyer.

There's a coach waiting outside. The house elves are shrinking Mum and Dad's luggage and taking them to it. I'm confused for a second, then I remember that it's August and my parents plan to go to Fiji or someplace like it. We've never discussed the topic since June.

"I guess you're leaving then," I say. It stings a little that they would just leave without previously telling me of their plans. I'm their daughter, yet the house elves know more about what goes on with my parents than I do.

"Yes," Dad says evenly. "We've left all the contact information with the house elves. Only use it if it's an emergency." That's a warning.

"When will you back?" I ask.

"Second week of September," Mum replies.

I try not to be surprised. That means they won't see me off on the first of September. They haven't done that since first year.

"This is the longest you've left me alone." My mouth is not connected to my brain, which advices me to say nothing until they've left. "How do you know I won't burn down the house or something?"

Mum's expression remains bland and unconcerned. "The house elves will take care of everything. As for you, I trust you know how to be discreet. You've not disappointed us yet."

"I guess I haven't," I murmur. I just can't win with them.

We give each other stiff hugs and quick kisses before my parents leave.

I walk the corridors for twenty minutes afterwards. The house feels empty and alien. It's the last place I want to be.

Fucking parents.

Thursday August 10, 1995
I'm feeling a bit crazy, like I have to do something and I don't know what. I'm pleased when Alicia suggests we go to a Muggle dance club. I haven't danced in ages. Those stupid balls my parents sometimes take me to don't count. I hate those things. People weren't meant to dance so formally, as if they have their wand up their arse. Dancing is about being free.

Of course, Nicco protests. We threaten to go without him. It doesn't work at first, but finally he gives in, like always.

The club is loud, dark, and hot. As soon as we get inside, I feel it. It's there in the baseline of the music. It throbs and reverberates around the club. It's sex, lust, and energy, all mixed up and intoxicating. I head directly for the dance floor with Alicia while Nicco and Marcus get us a table in the lounge.

We dance for an hour before deciding to take a break. When we get to our table, I can't tell whether or not Marcus is angry or aroused, likely both.

"Who were those blokes you were dancing with?" he asks Alicia.

She shrugs. "Wasn't in a position to ask their names. If you're so jealous, maybe you should come out there with me next time."

"I don't dance," he responds sourly. "Not like that."

"I beg to differ."

Marcus nearly chokes on his drink.

Nicco smirks at his cousin but doesn't laugh. I doubt anything will get him to do that while we're here. It's unlikely he'll move from his seat unless someone forces him to.

After a few minutes of arguing, Alicia finally gets Marcus to agree to dance with her. This leaves Nicco and me at the table.

"Dance with me," I say, getting up.

"Not to this racket."

"It's not racket and you know it."

"Absolutely not."

I wonder if a good slap would do him some good. "Can't you just stop complaining and let go for once? This isn't torture," I snap.

Nicco is quiet for a moment. "I'm not sure how to dance to this type of music," he finally says.

"You've had formal training, right?"

"Of course."

"Keep all you've learned in the back of your mind and improvise on the moves. It's not that difficult."

"If I make a fool of myself I will hex you."

It's rough going at first. Nicco stands too rigidly and holds me in the formal ballroom dancing position. I have to teach him relax. When that's done it's only a matter of us moving together. When I close the distance between us I hear something like a squeak. I dismiss it because Niccolaio Montague does not squeak.

"This is practically obscene," he says as we move.

"That's why it's fun."

During our fourth dance it's perfect. Nicco holds me against him and the music pulses around and then in us. I start to feel it under my skin and in my bones. My heart seems to mimic the beat of the music. It's magic.

I'm not surprised when I feel it. It would be an insult if I didn't get some kind of reaction from Nicco, dancing with him this whole time.

"Happy to be with me?" I tease, rubbing my leg against his erection.

"Johnson," he growls.

I laugh, holding him closer. His body is tense, like cord about to snap. "I'm flattered, really."

"You should be."

It's not what I expected him to say. I was expecting the opposite, actually.

Knowing that he's won this round, Nicco grins, flashing his teeth. For a second, I don't know where I am.

Sunday August 13, 1995
Despite Nicco's suggestions Marcus refuses to leave England. The Montagues are getting fed up.

"The first sign of a war and you're not with them, you're dead," Nicco tells his cousin.

"Then I'm dead," Marcus replies.

"Don't say something like that," Alicia shouts. "This isn't a joke."

"Who said I was joking?"

Nicco folds his arm, giving Marcus a harsh glare. "Do you have any idea what you're doing? They know how close we are. They're not going to ask Uncle Ottavio or my father to do it. It's going to be me. They think it would be the 'civilized' thing to do. It'd be showing you some mercy. However they dislike you, you're still blood."

Marcus doesn't flinch or show any emotion. "Then I guess you'll kill me. Family obligations, right?"

"Marcus—," Nicco begins.

"Shut up, Nicco. You've made your decision. I've made mine. I'm not going to be a fucking slave to them anymore. When it's time, when you come after me, I hope you can look me in the eye and tell me you're doing it because you believe in what you're doing, not because you're scared of what will happen if you don't. You better come to me as a man, Nicco, or I'll fucking make sure they won't be able to identify your body for a proper funeral."

Marcus sneers at Nicco's shocked expression. "You didn't think I was just going to accept this, did you? I'm not letting them dictate my life, why would I let them dictate my death? I love you, cousin, but I'll kill you before I let you kill me."

Marcus leaves the room, followed by Alicia. She's pale and shaking. With death on their minds, it'll be the best sex they'll ever have.

Nicco lights a cigarette and goes out onto the balcony. I wait a half an hour before I join him.

I don't say anything. I light my own cigarette and hoist myself up on the railing. I look down. If I fall, I'll likely break my neck. I must be drunk because all I can think about is that breaking my neck would lead to a very interesting sensation.

I glance at Nicco. He looks down at the garden with unseeing eyes. I wonder what he's thinking, if he's imagining what it would be like to kill Marcus, if he could ever do it. I can't imagine it. It's not that I don't think he's capable of committing murder, because I do. Everyone's capable of murder in the right circumstances. I just can't imagine Nicco killing someone he loves. If Nicco kills Marcus he won't call it murder, he'll say he was being compassionate.

Finally, Nicco turns to me. His face is hard. "If you say anything sentimental I won't hesitate to throw you over."

"I doubt any sentimental saying would be appropriate in this situation."

Nicco continues to stare at me.

"What?" I ask, annoyed.

"Just say your piece and leave."

"What? Say what piece? What the bloody hell are you talking about?"

"Why did you come out here? Why are you here?" he demands.

His tone implies that he wanted to ask something else. I'm too confused by the layers of the question to reply.

Nicco sneers at me. He hasn't done that in a while, not in a serious manner. "I get it now. You came out here to comfort me. You think I need you. I don't, so just leave me the fuck alone."

"Fine," I say. I hate it when people get angry with me for no apparent reason. I don't like becoming a target because someone's going through some inner turmoil they're too arsed to deal with in a better way.

"God, I hope Marcus does kill you." I don't think about it, I just say it. At the same time, I try to hop off the railing but something goes wrong and I'm falling backwards.

I don't scream because everything happens too quickly. I'm freefalling for a split second and then just as quickly being pulled back. My heartbeat is deafening when my feet touch the ground. Nicco is in front of me, holding my arms. I can't feel them. I can't feel anything.

"Do I need to throw water on you?" he asks.

I want to laugh but I don't remember how.

"Are you alright?" Nicco asks.

I nod.

"You're an idiot, you know that," he says gently.

"I guess so." My voice is shaky. "I've been riding a broom since I was eight. I've never been scared of heights. I've never been afraid of falling.""

"This isn't a broom." Nicco says, touching the railing. "You didn't expect to fall. You didn't think of the possibility."

"Okay." My mind is coming back to me and I'm feeling sober and too awake. I need to go home. I need to leave this place.

I start to move away, but Nicco still grips my arm. "You didn't mean what you said, did you?" he asks quietly, breathlessly.

"About what?"

"About Marcus killing me?"

Did I? "Of course not. I was being stupid."

"Good," he murmurs.

It's like being in front of a door that says "Do Not Enter." You know you shouldn't go in. You know there's something bad on the other side, but you can't imagine it so you turn the knob.

"Why is that good?"

It's all there on Nicco's face. He wants me. Not like Alicia and Marcus want each other. He's not in love with me. He'd never allow that. His feelings all have to do with desire, want, lust and possession.

I'm paralyzed, but I have to move. "I have to go home," I say.

I don't wait for his reply.

Monday August 14, 1995
I left because Nicco is not like Fred or Balthazar Takashi. With them, there was an element of control on my part. I dictated the when and where with Fred; I knew I could walk away from Takashi and there would be no consequences. I can't dictate anything with Nicco and I won't be able to walk away unless he wants me to. He's too much like me, always wanting control, always wanting to shape things, marking out the boundaries. Anything between us would be an unmitigated disaster.

I sleep on and off for most of the day. I don't feel like getting out of bed. The house elf seems to know this so she's especially nervous when she comes to me. There's someone to see me.

Nicco is in first floor sitting room, pacing slowly when I enter. I don't know what to think about him coming here. I didn't think it would be his next move.

"Why are you here?" I ask.

"I don't know," he replies. "I think I'm discovering my masochistic side."

"If being here is some painful experience then maybe you should go."

"If everyone thought like that we'd never get anywhere."

We haven't even begun our conversation and I'm already tired. It feels like we're running in circles.

"Look, what do you want? I'm not in the mood for witty repartee or whatever."

"Two weeks," he says.

"Two weeks?" I repeat. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"You and me for two weeks, until right before school starts."

I try to convince myself that he's said something else. He hasn't.

"You just said you wanted to have fun this summer."

"I also said that I was the Minister of Magic and I was planning on running around the Ministry naked."

"You were very drunk." He smiles at the memory.

I resist the urge to smile too. "I'm not trying to hurt you, but any kind of relationship between us would be anything but fun. Do us both a favour and get out."

Nicco gets up and I think he's going to do what I say. I'm momentarily pleased with myself. Instead of heading for the entryway he comes to me. Nicco is quick for someone his size. Before I know it he's holding my arms, his lips pressed against mine.

I try to get out of his grip but he holds me tighter. This time I feel his fingers digging into my arm. I refuse to make a sound. I tell myself that I won't give in to him. All it takes it is just once and it all goes to pot.

When Nicco releases me we're both breathing heavily. I feel like killing him. I slap him instead. The sound echoes throughout the room. Nicco is still, not quite sure how to react. I arch my brow. He does the same and grins, predatorily.

We reach for each other at the same time, kissing harshly.

This is the only way it will work.

Sunday August 16, 1995
We never make love. Instead we hurt each other. We bite, wrestle, and hold each other too tightly. When one of us tells the other to stop we don't. It becomes a game of escalation. He tells me to stop and I don't. When I tell him to quit he doesn't. All too soon, it's almost as if there's nothing between us but violence. Alicia says that's all sex is without love. She says that if we don't stop soon, we're going to kill each other. It's only been a week.

I can't answer the whys. Why do I do it? Why do I let him do it to me? Why does it have to be this way? It feels good. It's not all that matters, but it's all that I'm concerned with.

Tuesday August 22, 1995
I haven't thought much about Fred in the last few weeks. The owls he sends are full of inane messages. I read his letters quickly and write back in the same inane style and then put him out of mind.

I'm thinking about him now. It must be because it's so close to the end.

I remember the way he laughs. It's always a full laugh, full of joy and life. I remember that he's quite handsome in profile. When I see him I always want him to put his arms around me. I love his body. It's so different from mine. Fred is a solid weight I can hold to. It always feels like I'm about to float away.

I remember that I'm in love with him.

Monday August 28, 1995
I wake up on the floor, my back aching. Nicco is beside me, blowing smoke rings towards the ceiling. I'm too exhausted to do anything but shift a little so I'm not as aware of the pain.

"School will be starting in a few days," Nicco says absently.

I've been wondering when we were going to have this conversation.

"Don't worry. I won't follow you around like some lovesick Hufflepuff."

"I know you won't," he says quietly.

I don't know what to make of that so I say nothing.

Nicco puts out his cigarette and kisses me.

It's the closest we come to making love. Nicco's movements are a little slower, his touches are softer, but it still feels like I'm skating barefoot on a razor's edge. I still feel as if I'm being cut.

I watch Nicco dress, putting himself together meticulously.

"Goodbye," he says, his voice sounds like a dead weight.

"Goodbye," I reply.

This will never happen again.

Tuesday August 29, 1995
I wake up early and go out the gardens to watch the sun rise. The summer is officially over, at least for me. As I watch the sun I wait for the old me, the one who would never do the things I've done, to return, but she never does. She didn't go anywhere.

I feel uneasy about the last two weeks. I don't know how to categorize and it and fit it neatly in the recesses of my memory where it needs to go. I don't regret Nicco, but I know what I did with him is nothing like everything else I did this summer. I won't be able to leave it behind.

After breakfast I decide to go into Muggle London. I need time away from the house.

I walk the streets in a sort of daze, looking at things but not really seeing them. For no reason at all I stop in front of a hair salon. A poster of a woman with long braids catches me eye. I've always wanted to have my hair done like that but never did it because I knew how much of an inconvenience it could be.

"But it'll look brilliant," I think. Right now, that outweighs any inconvenience.

I leave the salon well after dark. The braids are heavy and feel strange. My scalp tingles, but I do look great.

Wednesday August 30, 1995
I get my Hogwarts letter. Not only does it have a list of all the things I need but also a letter from McGonagall. I've been made Quidditch captain and appointed prefect again. There's a list of the other Quidditch captains. Stephan Hood for Hufflepuff, Roger Davies for Ravenclaw and Niccolaio Montague for Slytherin.

I stare at Nicco's name.

"Of course," I say out loud. The universe wouldn't have it any other way.

Friday September 1, 1995
I'm at King's Cross before the Hogwarts Express arrives. I watch it pull into the station, thinking of the last six years. Every September first I've arrived at the station barely able to contain myself. I've always felt like a stranger in my house after first year. Every time I arrived at Platform 9 ¾ it always felt like I was finally going home. This year, I'm strangely numb. I don't want to get on the train and I don't want to go home. I want to disappear.

"We're all going to hell," I mutter staring at the train.

When Alicia arrives, I've already chosen a car for us. I notice she has a certain glow to her when we get inside.

"What's happened? Has Marcus got you up the duff?"

She laughs and pulls out a necklace from under her blouse. There's a ring on it. "He's asked me to marry him," she whispers. "I've said yes. We're going to do it when I leave school. You'll be there, won't you?"

"Of course," I say. "Congratulations." I give her a hug. I'm happy for her.

"And before I forget, Nicco wants you to meet him in the last car of the train at two-thirty."

"Why?"

Alicia shrugs. "He didn't say."

I don't have any time to think on the matter because Katie bursts in the car, waving a large tome in her hands. It's an album, likely with every picture she's taken while in Puerto Rico.

By the time two-thirty arrives, we're only half way through Katie's photos. Lee and George visit for a few minutes, trying to get us to try one of the twin's new inventions. We refuse because we've known them far too long. Fred has yet to make an appearance. He's avoiding me.

I excuse myself and make my way down the last car. The glass is obscured, which makes me a little angry. If Nicco thinks we're going to shag he's very wrong.

"Alright, what do you want?" I say as I go inside.

Nicco doesn't respond. His expression is blank, guarded. He rises and faces me. We're only inches a part. He reaches out and touches my braids. He gives a slight nod of approval.

Something is different about him. I'm unsure about what to say or do.

"Why did you call me?" I ask, trying to keep my voice flat. I feel like panicking.

Nicco stays silent. He touches my arm lightly like he did that night before he kissed me. He cups my face in his hands and brings our lips together. It's not like the other times. This kiss is softer and full of the emotion that was never there before. What his face hides his kiss reveals.

Nicco pulls away and kisses me once more on the forehead before letting me go. He smiles a little before he leaves the car.

It always feels like the ground has disappeared and you're falling to an unknown depth when you find out you're wrong.

It wasn't what I thought when I looked at Nicco after he'd kissed me. It's more than likely I saw what I needed to see or what I could only imagine seeing. I think he loves me, or he did.

I realize that it was never a fight for dominance between us because I've always been in control. Nicco knew we'd never be like Marcus and Alicia so he took the hurt and the violence. It was the only way it would work, for me anyway.

Knowing this makes me pity him. I hate feeling that way because it makes him seem weak and he's anything but. He's stronger than I am.

I pity him because I don't love him, because I can't.

I sit and watch the scenery pass as the train speeds along. We're in Scotland now. The window is open and I can smell the change in the air.

It's an hour before I leave the car and begin to wander back to my own. Alicia is still indulging Katie when I get back. George has returned. My stomach begins to twist in knots when I see that Fred in the car as well. The only place I can sit is beside him.

After a mumbled greeting I sit by the window. I look outside and try to ignore his presence. It's difficult.

After a time Fred nudges me with his elbow and holds out a sweet. "Want one?" he asks, grinning impishly.

I raise my brow. "Fred Weasley, the day I take anything from you without running a diagnostic charm is the day I run through the halls of Hogwarts naked," I say.

Fred laughs and everyone else snickers. Everything's all right now.

As the sun recedes my eyes begin to droop. We have a few hours before we reach Hogwarts. A short nap will do me a world of good. Without thinking I put my head on Fred's shoulder. He relaxes his body so that we're both comfortable. I close my eyes and inhale the scent of him. He smells like the soap Mrs. Weasley makes. He's warm and reminds me of the home that has no fixed location. With him, I remember what it's like to feel safe.

--end--

A/N: Title comes from "Demon Days" by Gorillaz.