Author's Note: Speaking of Edinburgh and how unexpectedly Harry Potter-related this trip became, I have now actually seen storefronts that look like those in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade or whatever. And the pink storefront with flowers climbing all over it, that is so Madam Puddifoot's, and I've seen actual ones now. It was really exciting. Also, I want to move to Edinburgh now, but it's like super expensive so now I'm sad and I never want to return to Canada. But anyway, here's Scorpius's first chapter! And it turns out it's really fun to write Eve's character as well, because she does some wild shit. This is also a weirdly short chapter for me, it's under 6 000 words.

Content Warning: Strong language.

Chapter 9

Jellybeans, Muggle Tunes

& Hangman

(Scorpius)

The snow was now tumbling down in great, fat flakes, landing heavily on my eyes or lips or nose and sitting pretty for a fleeting moment before melting and dripping off. It was the last Hogsmeade trip before we all left for the holidays, and I was holding hands with Eve as the snowflakes clung to her almost-black hair. She was laughing and pulling me along with her as her enchanting eyes sent chills through my body to rival those of the climate. My toes were frozen in my boots and my nose felt as though it was about to fall off.

"Come on, now," she was saying to me as she led me through the streets packed with students doing frantic Christmas shopping for friends. "It would be rude not to grace Madam Puddifoot's with our presence!"

"Yeah, she basically expects us every Saturday, the poor old crone," I replied.

"Oh shush! I just think it's our duty, as Hogwarts' most attractive couple, to represent the world of cute couples and be cute together." She grinned sweetly back at me.

"It just gets a little tiresome drinking over-sweet tea with pink confetti in it and listening to overplayed love songs as well as the sounds of other people sucking face." I saw Lacey through a shop window with some of her Gryffindor friends, but none of them saw me. "I'm also not too keen on the naked winged babies. It's like the old bint decorated the shop for Valentine's Day two hundred years ago, and never ended up taking the decorations down."

"Oh, Scorpius, don't be so negative about everything, baby," Eve said sharply.

"I'm not. I'm positive that I'd rather not have naked babies floating above my head," I said, and she laughed. We at last came to the tea shop. The elderly owner greeted us as we crossed the threshold.

"Well, hello, Madam Puddifoot," Eve said with a smile, "you're looking fine."

"Yes, thank you," Madam Puddifoot answered, not looking at Eve. "So wonderful to see you, Scorpius." She shook like the dying leaves of a tree on a blustery day as she led us to our table, beside a familiar couple. Aminta Urquhart and Kane Hallman were too intent on their own business to notice as we sat down nearby. I glanced around the room to take in the other patrons of the shop. Most of them were Hogwarts students; a few lowerclassmen that I can hardly ever remember the names of. I did recognize Riley's younger sister Teagan, sitting at a table on the other side of the room with a particularly loathsome Slytherin fifth year named Marc.

"Sweetheart," Eve said with a smile in her voice. I was now looking at the other side of the store where I saw several upperclassmen. "Scorpy, if you don't look at me this instant I will twist your ear off," she breathed murderously, but I had just spotted a head of red hair out the window, as her large eyes gazed up at the sky. Seth Eaton seemed to be pulling Rose into the shop, but as soon as her eyes focused on the interior, and more specifically me, she gave a start and made off in the other direction. "Honey," Eve's voice growled lowly from across the table and I found myself suddenly in a great deal of pain. My hand, which had just been resting on the table, was now paralyzed as Eve's sharp silver nails now dug into it.

"Oww, jesus, Eve! Wha-" I breathed in pain as I tried to move my hand away. When I looked up, her eyes were piercing darkly into me, almost as tangibly as her nails. Her teeth were clenched. When I looked back down at my hand, I could see tiny pools of blood springing up from the places where her nails met my skin.

"WHEN YOU AND I," she growled viciously from between her clenched teeth, "ARE ON A DATE TOGETHER IN MADAM PUDDIFOOTS, YOU WILL NOT IGNORE ME AND STARE AT OTHER GIRLS. UNDERSTOOD?"

"Yes! For Merlin's sake, yes!" I said urgently and she took her hand away. I let out an unbelievably relieved breath, staring in horror at the back of my hand. The tips of Eve's fingers were covered in my blood, but her demeanor suggested she might as well have been eating raspberries.

"Good," she replied pleasantly, carefully wiping each of her fingers on the pink napkin, leaving crimson stains behind. I realized I was shaking, and my mouth was slightly open. "Let me clean you up," she continued in the same tone, holding my fingers gently with one hand as she dabbed at the four small wounds on my hand. "You know, I've been noticing that you've been rather distant lately," she went on, pressing down hard for an instant and making me wince. "I do hope you're not being unfaithful to me. You know that would absolutely break my heart." At that, she pressed down hard again. Unfaithful? Oh, no, I've just been dreaming about a girl I don't even know, went my thoughts, but I kept my mouth shut. "You know I love you, baby." She stopped dabbing at my hand, and her frosty eyes stared into mine.

"Yeah," I replied in a hoarse voice, then I cleared my throat. "I love you too." She smiled. Then she took the napkin away, now mostly deep red, and I saw the raw, nail-shaped and -sized gouges in my hands. She reached across the table and caressed my cheek softly, then she took out her wand and waved it at my hand, sending thin bandages out to wrap securely around it.

"See? All better," she stated brightly. Madam Puddifoot came out then, carrying two floral teacups and a matching teapot. She set them all down on the table, said a few pleasant words, then wobbled off to another table. "Oh, let me get that for you," Eve said as I reached for the teapot. She picked it up and leaned across the table to pour the steaming liquid into my cup.

There was a tinkling sound as the door opened and I looked up to see a girl, accompanied by Seth Eaton, wearing a man's Christmas-themed jumper on her head to shield her face and, I assumed, the telltale hair. I was just beginning to furrow my brows and regard the scene with an air of dignity and disgust, when I found myself overcome by yet another instance of excruciating pain.

"Oh god!" I shrieked (in a manly way) as I jumped back in the chair to grab at my now scalding-hot-tea-drenched jeans, as if trying to rip them right off and expose myself to all eyes in the tea shop. But there's a reason I purchased these jeans; they are quite a lot sturdier than the average male stripper's pants. "Oh-dear-Merlin's-uncle-in-an-ambulance-with-the-postman!" I yelled all in one breath, through my clenched jaw.

"Oh, my dearest!" Eve cried out as all eyes fell on us and she rushed over, picking up the still-pink napkin from the table and dabbing at my crotch in much the same manner as she had done with my hand.

"Why the hell are you doing this?" I asked in a horrified whisper while she put on a concerned face for the audience. I could hear snickers coming from the jumper-headed-girl as her date gave her a worried look.

"I just want to make sure you're not going to break my heart," she sang sweetly, as she was almost outright hitting my legs now (not turning me on, thank you very much). The tea, thank god, had cooled a great deal by now, but I couldn't be sure until I'd undressed whether I would have to return to Madam Luxill for her to scoff at me and tell me not to do nasty things with salamanders. I could just hear her stern voice now saying, "that dear boy, James Potter definitely wouldn't be in this situation! Perhaps you should be more like him, Mr. Malfoy."

"You do know that normal people don't try to mortally harm their partner in order to prevent their heart from being broken?" I said to her in a low voice even though the whole place had now gone back to their own business. "Actually, sane people usually accept the fact that hearts are prone to being broken, but that they do mend, and they move on."

"I have always loved your sense of humor," was all she said in response as she straightened up again and sat back down across the table from me.

I hope it goes without saying that this was one of the strangest, and undoubtedly most painful (in the physical sense), dates I had ever been on.

"Ah, quite warm in here, is it not?" Eve peeled away her thick winter layers, removing her knit cap and scarf, and revealing the slim figure that had been a large contributor to my initial interest in her.

"I'd go as far as saying it's scalding," I replied, unbuttoning my own coat. "But the tea is actually pretty cold now."

"One lump or two?" she asked quite suddenly in a perfect imitation of one of those perfect housewives. Even her bright eyes fit well into the character. I felt like hiding my face in my hands, at least for a moment or two. I needed a minute to gather my nerves; that is, if I had any left that hadn't been burned off or destroyed by fingernails.

And then followed a period of the most work I had ever had to do on a date. For the next half hour, I had to be completely focused on Eve; fear of future pain saw to it that my eyes did not wander, nor did my thoughts, or my tongue. For god's sake, I wonder how common female spousal abuse is in the modern world. I wonder how many other sad saps out there are victims of their insane girlfriends' vicious tempers.

And for the whole time, other than Eve's conversation with me, all I could heard to my left was the sloppy smacking sounds of Aminta and Kane at the next table over, and to my right were the sounds of Jumper Girl's obnoxiously loud laughter. I could see out of the corner of my eye that she had now removed the jumper to reveal quite a messy lot of hair, and she kept laughing, in my direction, mind, as if to rub it in how much more fun she was having than me. I wondered whether Eve would still be mad at me if I decided to get up and slap that redhead.

But then it was finally over, and we were out. We had planned to head on to the Three Broomsticks after Madam Puddifoot's and meet up with Lacey and her company. Eve still clutched my gloved hand in hers for the walk there. It had stopped snowing by now, but at one part of our journey we came across a group of students having an intense snowball fight in the middle of the street. We hadn't been able to get out of that one scot-free, especially since I noticed that a number of the students were young Weasleys or Potters.

We finally entered the pub, full of damp, red-faced, bundled-up students and some townspeople as well. I quickly spotted Lacey at a table with June, Riley and Aura and we shoved our way through the crowd to join them.

"Oh Lacey, you look fantastic," Eve gushed as she leaned in to give Lacey a warm hug.

"Thank you, so do you," Lacey replied as the other girl pulled away.

"Oh, you two are just so lovely!" Eve continued as she sat down. June and Riley looked up, both of whom seeming to have just dazed off in unison. They were sitting beside each other, completely platonic to an uninformed outsider.

"Huh? Oh, yes, thank you, we are," June replied a little distantly.

"Nothing compared to you two, though, naturally," Riley added, almost mechanically, as if it was just the thing to be said.

"Well, I'll go get us some drinks, shall I, Scorpy?" Eve suggested.

"Sure babe," I replied, watching as she stood and moved away through the crowd. I turned almost mournful eyes back to the other four, pondering whether or not to tell them about my near-death experience. It would only prove every word of Lacey's right. But anyway, it's not like I didn't still love Eve. It's not like I was going to break up with her. Every relationship has its ups and downs. And she just happens to have very intense emotions.

Unfortunately, she's definitely sensed my recent distraction with the mythical Matilda. At this thought, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my bag of beans and popped a few into my mouth, the mingled flavors creating an unidentifiable taste. Matilda could be anyone at all, any of the students at Hogwarts. Maybe even a teacher. Possibly even a house-elf. Oh, how awkward that would be. However, there was this conviction inside me (or perhaps, just wishful thinking) that she was actually a girl. And for some reason, in all of my daydreams, she always had the sweetest, faint smattering of freckles on her nose, hardly even visible except when close up.

Of course, I know it's unhealthy to fantasize about a non-existent girl. Just impossibly unreachable standards. Still, from what I knew of her, she had a wonderful personality, and the strangest sense of humor I had ever encountered.

"Oh, my cherubs!" I suddenly heard June chanting and I looked up. "Guess what magical day of the year is in five days?" There was a thought-filled pause around the table as everyone considered the date: December 15th.

"Nope, I've got nothing." Lacey.

"You've got me." Riley.

"Not a clue." Aura.

"What is it?" Me.

"Oh, you sillies." June rolled her eyes. "It's my birthday!"

"Oh, exciting," Aura replied.

"Yup. Rose, Minty and D have already invested in earplugs, I haven't shut up about it since the fifth," she explained. Eve returned then with two butterbeers and she smiled at me fondly as she sat down.

"Well then, what's everyone's plans for the holidays?" she asked us.

"Big Irish celebration," Riley explained. "Dad's a bit of a nut about Christmas. So is Teagan actually. Me and my brother usually spend the whole time being surly and cynical."

"You have a brother?" June asked.

"Yeah, Quinn. He graduated last year."

"Aaahh," she muttered, nodding. "Well, Rose is apparently abducting me so I'm going to be spending Christmas with the Weasleys... still not quite sure what that entails. There aren't that many of them, are there?" There was a bit of a silence as she looked around at the rest of us.

"No, no," Riley said at last, "not that many Weasleys...in comparison to, say, people with brown eyes...in the world."

"Of course..." she muttered with a smile.

"I might see you there," I said to her, "my dad always seems to feel the need to drop by the Weasleys' around Christmas time."

"Oh good, so I'll have someone to complain to about all the redheads, right?"

"Sure," I laughed, "you could even start right now, if you wanted." She responded with a laugh to which Eve felt she needed to respond by pulling my face to hers and engaging me in a long, involved kiss. When she pulled away, her wide eyes seemed to crackle with electricity. I gave her an extra peck on the lips, before going back to facing the rest of the table.

"I'll also be taking part in that 'big Irish celebration'," Aura was saying, "Rye's and my dad will be getting wasted, as always, and breaking out the karaoke machine."

"And I will be getting into wrestling matches with my brother while our parents either fight or make out," Lacey concluded.

"Ah, the usual," Riley breathed contentedly. "What about you, Eve? What's your Christmas going to look like?"

"Oh, you know," she started. I squeezed her hand warmly, letting her know that she didn't have to answer if she didn't want to. "Just a big, old, happy family holiday."

"Bah humbug," Riley grumbled jovially. "Cheers, all, cheers." He held up his bottle of butterbeer and we all followed suit, clinking the bottles together. Eve leaned into me, and I draped my arm around her shoulders, pulling her comfortably close and absently playing with a bit of hair.

I strode through the corridors of Hogwarts the next day, past crowds of excitedly chattering students. The whole castle was decorated in the festive green-and-red-and-gold-and-silver. It kind of felt as though the Gryffindor mascot and the Slytherin mascot had spewed tinsel all over the place. I jogged up the last few steps of a flight of stairs, then turned down the familiar, dimly lit, seemingly forgotten corridor. There were no portraits on the walls, or tapestries or statues, just one lonely suit of armor tucked into a nook.

I pushed the door at the end of the hall open cautiously, sticking my nose through first and peering in to see if there was anyone there. There wasn't, of course. There never was. I closed the door behind me and crossed the room, determinedly not looking at the blackboard. Not yet. I took out my wand and tapped the wooden chest three times on the right side of the lid, then twice on the left side and once right over the keyhole. There was a click from somewhere inside, and then it swung open.

I pulled out the ancient-looking gramophone and put it onto the desk in the middle of the room, then I reached into the chest and took out a stack of muggle CDs. The right kind of music for today. I sorted through the motley collection of albums for the one that suited the moment. I had always loved music; it was one of those things that could take me away from my insufferable father and the fighting he and my mum never stop doing. I used to just leave the house and wander into muggle areas, slipping into a café or a pub and watching local muggle bands. I met a nice muggle who was alarmed at my lack of music knowledge, so he recommended several bands to me. I was hooked, and now I can hardly go a day without listening to a good playlist.

Fleet Foxes, self-titled album, 2008. I carefully pulled the disc out of its case and slid it into the narrow opening in the gramophone ("it plays anything you stick in there! Muggle, wizard, troll- anything! Stick your finger in and see what happens!") The first track started playing, serene voice rolling smoothly like the stream of water runs down the exterior of an overflowing glass. Piano, guitar and drums frolicking together in revelry. Next song- repetition, soft beginning, voices, cymbals, then guitar, drums, humming, more singing.

I leant back in the chair, closing my eyes and turning the corners of my lips up slightly. Breathing in, breathing out, the music wrapped around me. Music, my only other addiction apart from Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Harmony, rhythm; perfection.

Third song- I opened my eyes and gazed across the room to the blackboard as the tempo picked up, still soft and serene singing. I stood up and went to the board.

Matilda and I, we had begun to play Hangman together. The drawing was oddly depressing; the gallows, the little stick figure with a glum face, standing beside the noose which hung empty. There was another stick figure beside him, one hand on the first guy's arm, the other on the noose. I had already guessed three letters correctly (2 Es, 1 H, 1 S) and four letters incorrectly (A, D, I, M) and that counted for the four steps from the ground, up the stairs, to the noose.

The right half of the board was full of the girly writing of Matilda, telling me all about the time her little brother and her visited the zoo and her little brother got lost, so she spent three hours looking for him, enlisting the help of a homeless man who slept near the zebra enclosure, a sweeper, a father and his two-year-old daughter and a fat man with a large supply of candy bars, to help her find him. In the end he had somehow gotten into the monkey habitat and was eating peanuts while they hopped around him and socialized with him. Matilda mused that he looked more at home there than anyone had the right to, and if it weren't for his uncanny resemblance to her uncle, she would've sworn that he belonged to the big mama monkey after all.

I chuckled at the story, read it over two more times, then carefully erased it so that I could write my reply in. I paused, considering my answer carefully. I needed something witty, something both humorous and smart and friendly. Oh Merlin, this might take a while. Well, at least I have as long as I need. I began to write something, then changed my mind and erased it.

"That's a great...story," I mumbled as I wrote the words on the board. They looked like the remark of a total idiot. I scowled at them, but continued writing, sure that they wouldn't look bad if they had more after them. This is what I wrote: "I sure as hell know a lot of people who could live quite happily among monkeys." (Pause for an "err...") "Never really been that fond of monkeys though. Too...rambunctious. I prefer cats. Laid back, you know? And clever. And quite regal. Also always land on their feet. Wouldn't mind having that quality, especially when pushed off of balconies by evil cousins of mine. Funny story actually, cousin of mine is a total nut. Too much eyeliner, all black, voodoo, that kind of thing. Family get-together one year when I was about fourteen and she was twelve, we were standing on the balcony of my house because my parents had waved us off, telling us to go entertain ourselves and leave the adults alone to talk. So, I was attempting to strike up a conversation with her, ask what Durmstrang was like. She wouldn't say anything though, so I tried to joke a bit, and she basically shoved me off the balcony, where I fell into my mum's rosebushes below, broke my arm and got about a million cuts all over my body from the thorns. Then a garden gnome jumps out of the bush and starts kicking and biting me. All my cousin did was laugh. And of course, my parents blamed me for the whole thing. Rubbish family." I read it over, figuring it was all right. I added a grumpy "baah" at the end, just for good measure. Then I looked back up at the first sentence and decided to add a "ha ha ha ha ha!" before it, just to make sure she knew how much I enjoyed it.

I turned my attention back to the game of Hangman, the little stick figure's eyes gazing at me desperately, begging me to save his neck. I considered it long and hard, then I wrote "T?" down in the space reserved for my guesses.

I placed the tips of my fingers on the board, very lightly, just wondering who she was. Then I took my hand away, leaving five tiny dots behind. I sat back down at the desk.

I plopped my patchwork bag down on the table, grabbing a handful of beans, and I let the music envelope me again. I allowed my mind to go blank, every now and then simple little thoughts drifting in and out or just dancing around in my head.

Three CDs later (the Clash, Sandinista! disc one and two, 1980, and Metric, Fantasies, 2007) I put the gramophone away, locked the chest again, and left the room. As per usual, I passed no one at all on my way down the hall.

I flopped down on a long sofa in the common room. As if on cue, four people instantly joined me.

"Christmas coming up," Albus said, "I will officially be lost in a sea of redheads."

"I get to stay here, whoop-de-doo," Zaid said.

"I get to get stuffed like a turkey by my aunt," Thaddeus said.

"And I'm also staying here, like a champ," Freddie concluded. They all looked to me.

"Why does everyone feel the need to sum up their life's worth of Christmas holidays?" I asked.

"We have to have some way to complain about our families," Al explained with a shrug, "and Christmases are usually pretty much the same in each family."

"Well, I've got a whole shitload of nothing coming up," I said.

"Nothing?"

"...Nothing?"

"Nothing...?"

"Nothing?"

"Nothing." I glowered at them as they all looked at me with weirdly identical faces. "You're all very strange, you know."

"Yes, but do tell us..." Zaid started, then trailed off.

"...where it is..." Thaddeus went on, sitting forward.

"Huh?" Freddie looked at the two of them, then at me, then he shrugged.

"...you've been going," Albus finished. Freddie looked a little confused, then he stood up and left, as if figuring that we were all speaking our own language that he had no hope of understanding. Never was one for sticking around too long.

"Hm? Going?"

"Yes. Going," Al echoed, waggling his eyebrows mysteriously.

"Well, let's see," I muttered, tapping my lip in thought, "I've been going to...class, to the washroom, to Hogsmeade, to parties, to the common room, to bed, to the Great Hall, to...shall I continue?"

"Smart ass," Zaid said as he punched me in the arm way too hard to be considered friendly.

"You're just jealous," I replied, rubbing my arm.

"Of?"

"Of my intelligence, duh," I answered. Zaid gave me a doubtful look. "Uh, buddy, you've got the brains of a fucking ferret."

"No, I don't! You're a fucking cabbage!"

Silence.

"Oh, shut up." He slumped down on the couch, folded his arms and tucked his chin into his chest sulkily.

"If you weren't such a dickhead, you'd be in Hufflepuff, no doubt," I told him, and he scowled.

"Okay, douchebag, Hufflepuffs aren't all idiots, for your information!"

"You mean, idiots aren't all Hufflepuffs? We already knew that; you're here, aren't you?"

"You just love to mock me, don't you?" he asked, shaking his head while narrowing his eyes and making a sort of disbelieving scoffing sound. I don't think I'd have been surprised if he'd wagged his finger at me or done the whole finger-dusting-of-shame motion. Al and Thad were just laughing.

"Uh oh, watch out, Scorp," I heard Thaddeus say under his breath. The three of them were all looking warily above my shoulder. I turned to see what they were looking at and I saw it was Eve. She was hurrying over, crying. Fuck. Okay, quick; think. What have I done wrong lately? Shit, what haven't I done wrong? Okay, okay, maybe it's not about me...it's definitely about me. Okay, hit the deck! Burn the evidence! Abandon ship! ABANDON SHIP!

"Guys...?" I muttered, but answer came there none. And this was scarcely odd because...well because they'd all scarpered off and left me to face my doom all alone. "Hey babe," I said, trying to keep the fear out of my voice, but failing as it cracked awkwardly. Eve sat down beside me, sniffling.

"I'm so sorry," was how she started out the conversation.

"What?"

"I'm sorry for being so crazy earlier today," she said, holding my hands in hers. "I just realized what a total psycho I was! I can't believe I actually hurt you. You know I'd never do that." More tears fell from her eyes.

"Oh...no, I understand," I said in a very comforting kind of voice, leaning forward and gently wiping the tears from her face. She gave me a sad kind of smile.

"I'm just...you know, going through so much right now," she murmured.

"I know..."

"I'm having trouble sleeping and focusing in class and everything..."

"Yeah..."

"And my emotions are just going crazy."

"It's normal, in your situation..."

"I'm so fucking lost! I need you, Scorpy. I never want to lose you!" She buried her head in my chest, bursting into renewed sobs, her whole body shuddering. I stroked her hair and said reassuring things like "there, there." I sighed, holding her tightly. It was the only thing I could do after all.

"She's a fucking horror show," Lacey mumbled bitterly, not taking her eyes off of the parchment that she was furiously scribbling on.

"You don't know anything about her," I replied, also in the middle of writing.

"I know that she's fucking everyone around her with her eyes," Lacey replied calmly, pausing only to look over something in her textbook.

"You don't have the right to say things like that about my girlfriend," I said, slamming my quill down on the desk with a loud noise. I was looking at her challengingly, but she didn't meet my gaze.

"Why not?"

"Because, like I said before, you don't know her."

"I know enough, Scorpius," she said, finally looking up at me, her jaw firmly clenched. "She's not good for you."

"She needs me."

"Bullshit!"

Professor Tibbin shushed us sharply.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked in a low voice.

"I mean she's a slut and a liar and a manipulator."

"You're wrong."

"She fed me some bullshit story about her mother dying, Scorpius."

My mouth opened a little as I regarded Lacey with disbelief. I shook my head at her.

"Her mother is dying, Lace."

"What? No, she's-" she started, also shaking her head. "No, she's not...she...is she?"

"She has a terminal disease," I sighed wearily. Lacey sucked in a sharp breath, her face going whiter than it normally was, if that was possible. She put her hands over her face for a moment.

"Oh my god, I'm such a bitch," she breathed.

"Yeah..." I agreed with a shrug.

"Oh jeez." She shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said as she took her hands away and looked up at me. "I can't believe...ugh...I feel so awful..." She put her nail to her mouth which she nibbled absently. "I think...I'm probably going to apologize to her...after classes today..."

"That's a good idea," I said with a nod. "It's okay though, I'm sure it could've happened to anyone."

"Yeah..." she mumbled distractedly. Professor Tibbin walked over to us, telling us to stop talking and get back to work on our essays and our conversation ended there. She was in a bite of a daze for the rest of the class and at the end she was out the door within seconds. Her small form walked briskly through the corridors, the way she always walked, with a purpose. And she always got quite pissed off at slow walkers in the halls, so that she sometimes got violent with them. It was always pretty funny to see.

I went in the other direction, on my way to Potions. I couldn't help a little smile from briefly crossing my face as I thought about how, maybe finally my best mate could actually get on with my girlfriend. Who knows, maybe Lacey and Eve would become really close. Maybe I'd even have to start tearing them apart so I could have some alone time with one or the other. Who knew.