As the weeks went on, I found myself hanging out more with not only the girls from work, but Noah as well. I spent more days alone with him as well as time with the others from work. We'd walk through Diagon Alley together and we even sometimes ventured back out to Muggle London.

At the beginning of July, we all went out for Rachel's twenty-second birthday to the Three Broomsticks, where everyone teased her for being a full year older than the rest of us and she pointed out that Noah was the same age as her. To that, Noah pretended as if he had no idea what she was talking about.

Kayla, Allie and I had even baked her a cake and surprised her with it at the table and Kayla got the whole pub to join in singing Happy Birthday.

"It's amazing how people can do that, isn't it?" I whispered to Noah as everyone in the pub clapped and Rachel blew out her candles.

"Do what?" he whispered back.

I tilted my head towards Kayla. "Things like that. Get up in front of the whole pub, announce that it's someone's birthday and ask that they all help sing? I'd almost rather jump into a pot of boiling water."

Noah chuckled. "Kayla's always been like that," he said. "It's funny, but sometimes it gets her in trouble. No shame, no filter, no worries." He shrugged. "Kind of like Fred and George, actually."

I nodded. "It's just strange to me how there's no fear of people judging them. They don't think twice about other people's opinions."

Noah shrugged again. "Some people are going to be judgmental anyway, no matter what you do, so why hold back, I guess. Right?"

"True," I said thoughtfully. I thought about Elizabeth's diary and how the people of Salem were constantly being judged. And some-well, most-of the judgements weren't even accurate. But no matter how someone acted-whether they were laying low or drawing attention to themselves-everyone was in danger. It didn't make a difference.

It made me wonder if my plan to lay low would even make a difference. I was beginning to think it didn't. Already, strange stuff had been happening to me. I'd made friends, sure, but I had done nothing to bring attention to myself. I had done nothing that would have drawn anyone to me from America. But would it have mattered if I did? Did I even have a shot at survival or was I just doomed from the beginning?

"What's wrong?" Noah asked as he took the slice of cake Kayla was passing him and set it in front of me. "You eat cake, don't you?"

I laughed and nodded as Kayla passed Noah a piece of cake for himself.

"Then what's going on in that head of yours?" Noah asked.

"Too much," I said. "It's all one big mess."

"Well, what's the least messiest thought in there, then?" Noah asked, a small smile hitching up the corner of his mouth.

I hesitated. One thought had immediately jumped to the front of my mind, but I was afraid to say it. Afraid of Noah, well, judging me. But then I remembered what he said. Some people are going to be judgmental anyway, no matter what you do, so why hold back? I thought of how in awe I was of Kayla's fearlessness and even the twins' same trait. I thought of how tired I was of being afraid. Afraid of being judged, of being teased, of being laughed at. Afraid of my past, afraid of the future. Afraid of everything.

"The least messiest thought is how great I think you are," I whispered quickly, glancing at Noah and then quickly glancing away.

He was quiet, which got me to look up at him again. His eyebrows were raised in surprise, but he was smiling.

"Really?" he whispered.

"Mhm," I answered, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

He smiled wider. "Suddenly, the awesomeness of this cake has seriously diminished. Compared to what you just said, this cake means nothing."

"Oh, come on," I laughed.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Noah asked. "Go for a walk?"

I hesitated for a second, glancing out the front windows at the dark, empty street. Normally, after being put so on edge by the diary and the necklace, I'd be weary of being out on a dark, empty street alone. But technically, I wouldn't be alone. I'd have Noah. And that also didn't mean I'd have to be any less alert than usual. I could still be in tune to my surroundings and enjoy being with him. Couldn't I? I hoped so.

"Sure," I told him before I could change my mind.

He smiled and stood up, offering his hand as he did so. I looked at it for a second and then I took it and let him help me up.

Noah leaned down close to Rachel's ear and whispered something to her-probably along the lines of happy birthday, but Sophie and I are leaving now. She smiled and then a smirk lifted up a corner of her mouth and she looked past Noah at me.

"Have fun," she said coyly.

"You don't mind that we're leaving, do you?" I asked.

"I might have if you were leaving separately. Or if you were leaving to go sit home by yourself. But you're leaving together, which makes me very happy." She grinned widely and gestured for me to come closer. I squatted down by her chair and she leaned in to whisper in my ear. "If you come to me tomorrow and tell me that you kissed him, you win best birthday gift."

"Rach, honestly," I sighed, pulling away as she cackled with mirth.

"It'll be my second successful set up," she said.

"Goodbye, Rachel," I said, rolling my eyes and smiling as I stood up again and let Noah lead me from the restaurant.

The two of us began walking down the street in silence. It was almost ten o'clock at night and the shops were already closed. The street was dark except for the moonlight and the light that was spilling out of the windows of the pub, which grew fainter and fainter as we walked further away, still hand in hand.

"I was wondering," Noah said suddenly. "Do you want to have dinner with me and my mother one of these days?" He paused and looked at me. "She wants to meet you."

"She does?" I asked.

He nodded and smiled at me warmly. And then his cheeks turned light pink and he rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. "I-uh-may have told her a lot about you."

"What'd you tell her?" I asked, a curious smile appearing on my face.

"Let's see," Noah said, looking up at the sky as he let a puff of air out of his mouth. "I told her how nice you were. And funny. And sweet. I told her you were quiet, but polite and hard working. I told her I like being around you. I told her you're beautiful and have the prettiest giggle-one that I don't hear all that often, but I wish I could. I told her I felt like I could tell you things. I can trust you. I think the fact that you've been through a lot makes you understand a lot. If that makes sense. Not to make it seem like anything you've been through is good. But-"

"No, I know what you're getting at," I said. "I get it."

Noah nodded. "For example," he went on, "when I told you about what happened with my dad, I knew you'd truly get it. Although...I think you've been through more hardships than me. Just from what little I know...sometimes I worry that my issues must seem silly compared to yours. I never had trouble with bullying. I've always had friends. I've always had my mum."

"Your problems aren't silly, Noah," I said. "Your problems and your feelings are all legitimate. They're real and they should be treated seriously. Do I wish my life was different growing up? Easier? Yeah, I do. But then, I don't think I would've ended up here. And if I did, it would have been under different circumstances. I might never have met you or Rachel or Tom and Martha."

"Are you still thinking of leaving?" Noah asked in a whisper, turning to face me as we came to a stop in front of the candy shop. It was dark inside, but the windows were full of colorful displays of every kind of sweet imaginable. Not that I was noticing too much of that at the moment.

"Noah, I have so much baggage," I sighed.

"Not a light traveler, then?" He asked with a tiny smile.

I let out a breath of laughter. "Literally, yes, but figuratively, absolutely not."

"Well, you could always let me help you unpack," he said. "Put all your things to rest, nice and neat in a dresser drawer." He smiled and took a step closer to me.

"It's not that easy," I whispered. "And I don't want you to get hurt."

"I'm a big boy," he said quietly, his eyes roaming over my face. "Unpack your baggage and stay for a bit, yeah? Aren't you tired of running? Tired of being so afraid?"

I blinked up at him. It was like he'd read my mind earlier. "Yeah," I whispered. "I am."

"You're safe here," he went on. "You have people here who care about you. We'll protect you and protect each other. Hell, you should have seen us all back when we were in that war against Voldemort. We were all terrified, but we all did what we could-anything we could-to keep each other safe. And we'll do the same for you."

My eyes filled with tears and I turned away, trying to compose myself.

"Hey," Noah whispered, lightly placing a finger on my chin and turning me to face him again. "Don't cry."

"I'm not used to people telling me something like that," I said, my voice shaky. "And even though I know you mean it, there's a part of me that's so filled with doubt. A part of me that's saying you can't possibly mean that."

"But I do," he said. "How can I prove it to you? I'm not sure I can unless you let me. Let me in, let me help you. Let me fight for you."

I closed my eyes and let out an involuntary sob. I felt Noah's finger brush my cheek and when I didn't move or flinch away, he cupped my face with his whole hand, brushing my tears away with his thumb.

Finally, I took in a ragged breath and looked up at him as my tears subsided. I gave him a watery smile. "I'd love to meet your mother," I said.

Noah let out a breath of laughter. "Yeah?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

Noah smiled, his thumb still lightly traveling over my cheek as he looked down at me. He chewed on his bottom lip and his brow furrowed as he seemed to be thinking about something. "Is it tacky if I ask to kiss you?" he asked. "Normally I'd just go for it, but I don't want a repeat of last time and I don't want to upset you any more...but I really want to."

"I appreciate the fact that you asked," I whispered with a smile. "But I'm afraid I might not be that good of a kisser. You might end up instantly changing your mind about everything you just told me."

"I thought you were tired of being afraid," Noah said with a smile. "And also...I'm not that much of a prick. Ditching a girl after one kiss. Honestly, what kind of guy do you take me for?"

"One I'm not sure I deserve," I whispered.

Noah didn't respond. Instead, he just looked at me for a moment before slowly leaning closer. I closed my eyes and held my breath and then he was kissing me. I froze and stiffened for a moment due to pure nerves and inexperience. But after a second, I found myself following instinct and Noah's lead as I kissed him back. A little timidly, but it was something. And I don't think he minded.

I pulled away first, looking up at Noah with a small, teasing smile. "Was it terrible? You can tell me if it was."

"It was by no means terrible," Noah said with a chuckle. "The way you froze at first, I thought I was terrible."

I snorted and swatted him. "Untrue."

Noah let out a laugh, but then something caught his eye over my shoulder and he frowned.

"What's wrong?" I asked, turning around, pulling myself out of his hold in the process. Nothing was behind me except the empty street.

"I just thought I saw something move at the corner of the alleyway," Noah said, heading towards the alley beside the candy shop.

"Maybe it was just a cat or a bird or something," I said nervously, hesitantly following him as he moved to stand at the mouth of the alley. We both stared down it, but all was dark, silent, and still.

"Maybe," Noah said slowly. He took a step into the alley, but I grabbed his arm.

"Noah, don't. Let's just go." My heart was racing and goosebumps were prickling my arms. It was one thing for me to feel paranoid, but if Noah thought he was seeing things, that wasn't a good thing. I could only hope it was an animal or some kind of trick of the light.

"Yeah, okay," Noah said, still squinting down into the alley. I tugged on his arm and he finally turned, taking my hand again and leading me down the street. I turned and looked over my shoulder one last time and saw nothing but the still empty street, normal as can be.

But I still had goosebumps.


"Come on, honey, don't be afraid. Come inside."

I stood on the front stoop of the small, two story white house, clutching a duffel bag of my belongings while a backpack hung from my shoulders. I stared down at the ground, even when the couple that lived in the house opened the door. Even when the social worker lady told me that this was my new home, these people were my new family and to say hello. I mumbled a quiet greeting and continued to stare down at the ground.

I was ushered inside, where I stood just inside the door.

"Sophie, meet Eric and Andrea Rogers. They're you're new foster parents."

I glanced up at them briefly. "Hi," I whispered.

"She's very shy and quiet. You'll probably hardly know she's here," the social worker said with a tittering laugh.

"Sophie." My new foster mother squatted down in front of me, putting herself into my view. Her expression was warm and friendly, yet oddly emotional. She looked as if she were almost crying with joy. She reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind my hair. "You're so beautiful. I've wondered for so long what you'd look like. Ever since I..." She cleared her throat. "Ever since we," she glanced back at her husband, "decided to take in a foster child."

I still remained quiet.

"Well, hopefully she'll begin to warm up," the social worker said. I couldn't even remember her name. "She's been through a tough time. This is her fifth foster home."

"Fifth?" My new foster dad-Eric-looked down at me with a raised eyebrow, his arms crossed over his chest. "Why, what's wrong with her for all of them to send her back?"

"Nothing!" the social worker said hastily as I blushed shamefully.

"She seems like a sweetheart," Andrea said, standing back up.

The adults talked for a few moments more, leaving me standing there, still and silent. And then the social worker patted my shoulder, almost awkwardly, and left the house, leaving me alone with my new guardians.

Eric turned towards me after he closed the door and looked down at me, standing timidly with my bag still clutched in my hand. "Andrea, show her to her room," he said flatly. And then he walked away. Just like that. What a first impression.

"Come on, darling," Andrea said gently. "Let me take your bag."

I reluctantly let her take my bag from my hands, feeling as if the sudden absence of something to hold was like losing a sense of security. And then I followed her up the staircase, looking at my surroundings as I went.

The house was nice enough, but it was basic. Plain. There weren't many decorations or personal touches. And it was clearly an old house as well. Not dirty or shabby, but simply old. The wood on the stairs were worn and they creaked as we ascended them. The walls were painted an off white and they were mostly bare. All that hung in the upstairs hallway was a hall mirror.

I was led into a small bedroom containing a dresser, a bed, a desk, a nightstand and a closet. The walls of this room were a pale yellow and the two windows were adorned with white billowy curtains. The bedspread was a light green color and it actually looked like as soft as a cloud.

"I tried to make it as homey as possible," Andrea said with a small smile, setting my bag down on the bed. "I hope you like the colors."

I nodded. "They're fine. Thank you."

"Would you like help unpacking?" she asked hopefully.

I shook my head. "I can do it."

"Oh. Alright. Of course." She cleared her throat and I looked up at her to see her pulling her sleeves down over her hands awkwardly. I noticed how tired she looked then, despite her smile. "I'll leave you to get settled and call you when dinner is ready. If you need anything, let me know."

I nodded and she left the room. The stairs creaked as she descended them and then I was left in silence once more in my new, slightly drafty room. I sunk down onto the bed gingerly and stared around it. Despite the colors and the girly bedspread, the room was just as empty of personalization as the rest of the house.

I picked up my bag and set it on top of the dresser before curling up on the bed again, pulling the pillow to my chest. I should have been used to starting over in a new foster home by now, but I still felt an odd ache in my chest as I lay there, staring at the pale yellow walls. I wanted nothing more than to go home, but now home was here. And "here" felt nothing like a home. "Here" was empty and drafty and creaky and while Andrea was certainly trying, I hardly knew her and she seemed almost...uncomfortable. Unsure, maybe. And for Eric...he didn't seem to like me at all.

So much for being a family, I thought, as tears dripped down my cheeks and any last hope that this home might be the one-my forever home-flew right out the window with the drafty air.


The Burrow was so full of life bursting from every corner that I wasn't sure if I was used to it quite yet.

Handmade blankets adorned every couch, loveseat and armchair, in addition to patterned throw pillows. Pictures crowded the mantle, the top of the bookshelf, and most of the walls. Shoes were crowded by the back door and even out on the back steps. A stray jacket would be lying across the back of a kitchen chair on most occasions. A fire would be roaring in the fireplace. It was a home and it felt like one. Naturally, too. Nothing felt forced. It was a home in a take it or leave it sort of way. The Weasleys were comfortable with the way it was and they wouldn't trade it for the world.

And neither would I. I liked it there. I felt like it was everything a lot of my foster homes had missed, each in some way or another.

It was the end of July and I found myself at the Burrow for Harry's birthday party. I'd almost turned down the invitation, but in the end, I'd caved. I'd run into Mrs. Weasley at the Leaky Cauldron a week ago-she'd been headed into Diagon Alley to visit the twins-and she'd asked if I would be joining them all for the birthday party. I'd declined, saying that I had plans with Noah, which was true. We'd been spending even more time than usual together ever since the kiss. The kiss that I could not stop thinking about. It replayed over and over in my head and every time it did, I felt butterflies in my stomach. I'd waited so long to finally experience something like that. Something so normal. And I'd loved it.

Anyway, Mrs. Weasley had told me to invite Noah to the Burrow as well. I tried to decline again, not wanting to impose or add another person to her already long guest list, but she insisted. So now here I was, sitting in Ginny's bedroom at her window seat, staring out the window and daydreaming.

"Do you have a favorite Quidditch team?" Ginny asked me curiously, snapping me out of my trance.

"Er...no," I said, turning my head to look over at her. Mrs. Weasley was still finishing up dinner downstairs and Ginny, Hermione, Katie and I had congregated up in Ginny's room while everyone else finished up their Quidditch match. It was their fourth one of the night. By the end of the third, Katie and Ginny had called it quits and Hermione and I had gotten tired of watching, so we had moved ourselves upstairs while we waited for dinner to be done.

"What do you mean no?" Katie asked.

"I don't know much about it," I said. "I never even watched matches at school."

Katie and Ginny gaped at me.

"People have got to stop reacting that way," I said with a sigh. "Fred and George almost went into cardiac arrest when I told them that."

"It's because you're talking crazy!" Ginny looked at me with wide eyes as she pulled her hair down from her ponytail. She turned to look at her reflection in the mirror as she ran her hand through her hair.

"Don't worry, I've never been big on Quidditch either," Hermione told me. "I hate heights, so Quidditch is the worst idea of fun as far as I'm concerned."

"So why is it such a shock when I say I don't like it?" I asked.

"Because you said you've never even watched a match before," Ginny said. "At least Hermione used to watch."

"I may not have watched any at school," I said, "but I watched the one you all played the last time I was here. You all even tried to give me a flying lesson."

"That's different."

"How?"

"It's...unofficial," Ginny said matter of factly as Hermione snorted.

"Quidditch is Quidditch," I argued.

Katie and Ginny shared exasperated looks. "So what did you—or do you, rather—do for fun?" Katie asked me.

"Not much," I shrugged. "Read, I guess."

Hermione beamed excitedly as Katie and Ginny shared another exasperated look.

"You and Hermione both," Ginny sighed. "That's all Hermione ever seems to do is read."

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it," Hermione quipped back.

"I have tried it," Ginny said indignantly. "I've been known to pick up a book now and again. Just not as much as you. You really ought to be talking to Fred and George-or even Ron for that matter-if you want to lecture someone about not reading."

"I mainly got into it because I didn't have much to do growing up," I said. "I just had books, really. A few toys here and there when I was younger. But not always. More often than not, the foster family I was with couldn't-or wouldn't-give me much for various reasons."

"What do you mean by wouldn't?" Hermione asked gently, leaning forward from where she was leaning back on Ginny's pillows.

I stared from one girl to the next before sighing and looking back down at the bed. Be less afraid, I reminded myself. Trust people. Why hold back? "The father of the most recent foster home I was in usually just took the money he and his wife were given to be spent on me and spent it on himself instead. That's all he really ever spent money on. He didn't even bother buying much stuff to decorate the house with. It was so...drab. There was no personality anywhere. But he bought himself clothes, shoes, whatever else he wanted...Every so often, he'd go out drinking with his friends and the money probably went towards that as well."

Hermione clucked her tongue. "Honestly, people like that shouldn't even be around children."

"Fred was saying he and George are going to help you find your mother?" Ginny asked. "Your real one, I mean."

"He told you that?" I asked, my eyebrows shooting up as I looked at her.

"Well, no," she said, sitting down in her desk chair. "But I overheard him talking to George. Whispering, really. And when they do that, it usually bad news. It usually means they're up to something. Although, this time it was clearly something helpful. I heard them saying how they were going to help you find out what happened to her. I think they were trying to figure out just how to do it."

"I haven't necessarily agreed to anything yet," I said. "I don't know where to start and I don't know if I want to uncover something I might not like. I'm still thinking about it."

"If that's what you want," Ginny said slowly.

"Why does everyone keep talking about what I want?" I muttered.

"Because it matters," Katie said, sounding slightly surprised that I was confused about this.

I swallowed and chewed on my lip. What did I want? Did I want to know for sure what had happened to my mother? Yes. But was I scared to go anywhere near the place I'd run from? Yes. Was I afraid of what I'd find if I went digging? Definitely yes. Even though I was tired of being afraid all the time and I was working on that, it was just so hard not to be. Especially when it involved my past. It wasn't like there was some switch I could just turn off.

"So what about you and Noah?" Ginny asked, wiggling her eyebrows. "Are you dating him?"

"No, I don't think so," I said slowly. "I mean-we haven't talked about it. I think he knows I want to go slow. I honestly don't even know what I'd say if he brought it up."

"You like him, though, and you kissed him," Ginny said slowly.

"Mhm. But-it's complicated. He says he can hold his own, but I can't put him in any danger. I can't be responsible for that. And I can't handle losing more people I care about. My mother was enough. I've got enough issues without adding putting people in danger to the list."

"You really think you're in danger?" Hermione asked.

I nodded. "My foster father did not want me running away. I tried twice before I actually got out. And ever since, the plan was to keep moving. I was never supposed to be here this long. I was supposed to save up some money and get out. Move on to the next place. Get another job. Earn some more money. Then leave and repeat the process. But I like it here. And the longer I stay, the harder it is to leave. I like the people I've met and they're all pretty convincing!" I looked up and smiled. "Between Tom, Martha, Noah, Fred, George...they keep insisting that they're tough and that it's better to surround myself with people so that I can be protected if something does happen. And the thought...it's nice. But then I wonder if I can really ask that of people."

"You don't have to. We kind of just do it all on our own," Ginny said with a grin. "Seriously. Everyone should know better than to mess with the people around here. Did anyone ever tell you that Hermione once set a teacher on fire?"

I nearly toppled off the window seat as I looked at Hermione. "What?" I spluttered. "You? Set a teacher on fire?"

"Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed, tossing a pillow from the bed at her friend. She turned back to me. "I didn't actually set him on fire. Just his cloak."

"Which he was wearing," Ginny said.

Hermione looked at me slightly guiltily for a moment before she smiled a bit deviously. "Yeah, well...Ron and I thought he was jinxing Harry's broom during a Quidditch match."

"You thought?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"Turns out he wasn't?" Hermione said, shrugging her shoulders and making a face as if to say oops.

"He was actually trying to save Harry," Ginny chimed in. "But he was also a huge, slimy greaseball of a man the rest of the time, so how were they supposed to know? He's the same teacher who cursed off George's ear, by the way."

"Harry said that Snape was actually aiming for a Death Eater. He just missed and hit George," Hermione pointed out.

"Okay, well, we didn't know that at the time," Ginny said. She turned to look at me. "The point is that when a friend is faced with danger, we fight. Always."

I smiled and rested my chin on my knees. "Remind me never to mess with any of you."

Mrs. Weasley called up to us just then, announcing that the food was ready and we all stampeded down the staircase and out the back door to the large tables that had been set up outside. Fleur was already sitting in a chair while Mrs. Weasley piled food on a plate for her, considering Fleur's arms were full holding Victoire.

"How's my favorite niece doing?" Ginny asked enthusiastically as she plopped down beside Fleur and leaned in to kiss Victoire's head.

"She eez your only niece," Fleur said. "And zee only child out of any of your brothers."

"Doesn't matter," Ginny said dismissively. "She's still my favorite niece and I'm her favorite aunt. No offense to Gabrielle."

"Victoire doesn't have a favorite aunt," Fleur sighed. "She loves you and Gabrielle the same. She told me."

"She's talking now?" Ginny asked in mock surprise. "That's amazing. She's only three months old!"

I let out a breath of laughter as I took my seat next to Ginny. She swatted me, but she was smiling.

"You're going to have more competition at some point," Fleur pointed out. "Once the rest of your brothers start getting married and having children. So you'd better get used to eet."

"You know, I think I can handle the competition," Ginny said. "As long as more of my brothers do get married. Sometimes being around only boys is agonizing. We need more women in this family."

"Well that's rude," Bill said with a laugh as he and the other boys appeared around the table, returning from their Quidditch match. Noah gently brushed my shoulder as he passed and took a seat on my other side.

"Hey," he whispered, giving me a wide smile. I blushed light pink and resisted the urge to give Ginny a good pinch when she nudged her elbow into my side and snickered.

"Hi," I said. "How was your last match? Did you win? Score any points?"

"My team won," Noah said, "but personally, I scored a whopping total of zero points." He looked across the table at Fred, who was taking his own seat. "I never knew Fred's Keeper skills were as great as they are. He wouldn't even let me near the goalposts. Well, technically the trees that served as goalposts..."

"Of course not," Fred said with a smirk. "That's the whole point. Those goalpost-trees rely on me to protect them. They trust me. They tell me all their secrets." He looked at me and sent a playful wink my way, while I shook my head and sent him a look to shut up. Instead, he laughed and I rolled my eyes.

"Seriously, Fred?" I muttered, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms.

"It's all in good fun," Noah said, Fred's joke going right over his head. Thankfully. "Friendly competition, right Fred?"

"Sure," Fred said, glancing over at me before looking away again. "That's exactly what it is."

It turned out that Mrs. Weasley had made all of Harry's favorite foods for dinner, which from the looks of it, was mostly everything. She even proudly brought out an amazing looking homemade cake once everyone was done eating.

"You know, I could really get used to this eating cake every few weeks thing," Noah said. "I need to plan out who I befriend by when their birthdays are." He licked frosting off of his fork and sighed. "This is so good."

"We're having another small gathering for Ginny's birthday in a few weeks," Mrs. Weasley said. "Her birthday falls on a Saturday-the eleventh-but we'll have everyone over on the Sunday. You and Sophie are more than welcome to come."

"Count me in," Noah said.

"By the way, Noah," Mrs. Weasley went on, "how's your mother doing?"

"She's fine," he said. "Nothing too new or exciting going on."

"I stop into the bakery every now and then," Mrs. Weasley went on. "Haven't been in for some time now, though."

"I'll tell her you said hello," Noah said, finishing off his cake with a grin. "I'm actually taking Sophie to meet her soon." He looked over at me and smiled, nudging my side with his elbow and getting me to smile as well.

"Are you?" Fred asked, almost dryly as he scrutinized Noah before glancing over to me. I shot him a look, but he didn't falter in his own gaze.

Noah nodded. "My mother practically insisted. She said she needed to meet the girl I won't shut up about."

"Ah, so what I'm hearing is you do enough talking for both you and Sophie," Fred said with a smile. "That's alright, most of us do."

"Leave them alone, Fred," Mrs. Weasley scolded.

Fred ignored her as he looked back at Noah. "Does your mother know Sophie's a silent, people hating hermit?" He asked, nudging George as they both laughed.

"She doesn't hate me," Noah answered, unbothered by the teasing as he raised an eyebrow. He leaned back in his chair and lifted his arm, casually resting it across the back of my own chair. "And she's not silent either. She had to give me an answer when I invited her to my mother's house, didn't she? Did you think I was kidnapping her?"

"I don't know, are you?" Fred asked. He looked at me. "Soph...blink twice if you need rescuing."

"Oh, honestly," I scoffed, folding my arms and leaning back in my chair. But I couldn't fight the small smile on my own face.

"See? She speaks," Noah chuckled.

"Barely," Fred said, winking at me when I caught his eye.

I laughed and swung my leg out, kicking Fred under the table. And all he did when my foot made contact with his leg was laugh. Of course. I wouldn't have expected anything less.

Later, we all gathered in the living room so that Harry could open presents. I found myself sitting on one one of the couch with Noah next to me. Fred and George made a big show of asking Harry to open their gift first. They handed him a large box with a flourish before each taking a seat, George on the floor in front of the coffee table and Fred on the arm of the couch, right next to me.

"What'd you get him?" he asked me, keeping his voice low.

I shrugged. "Candy from Honeydukes," I said. "I wondered if it was too impersonal, but then again, I don't know him all that well. And Ginny did tell me all of his favorite kinds...What did you get him?"

"Just watch," Fred snickered, gesturing to Harry with his chin.

Harry had finished pulling the wrinkled, deep blue wrapping paper from the box and was now tugging on the flaps to open it. The second he did, a cluster of balloons burst from the box, floating up to the ceiling as Harry jumped in surprise.

"Nice," he snorted as everyone else in the room made exclamations of surprise and glee.

"You got him balloons," I commented lightly, leaning closer to Fred. "How thoughtful."

"Is that a hint of sarcasm I detect?" he asked.

"No, none," I whispered back, a hint of a smile lifting up the corners of my mouth. "I was just expecting something a bit more...wow."

"A bit more wow," Fred repeated, nodding slowly. "Gotcha."

I scoffed and looked away. "You know what I mean."

"Just wait," Fred said.

I glanced over at him just as Harry was pulling another smaller box from the larger one.

"Another box," I said. "Incredible, really."

"Patience, patience," Fred sighed.

Harry opened the smaller box to reveal yet another smaller box, which opened to reveal an even smaller box. This went on until the last one remaining was about the size of a ring box.

"Are you two proposing?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow. "I'm flattered, but unfortunately I'm not available." He smirked over at Ginny as Fred and George pretended to gag.

"As revolting as your relationship with our sister is," George said as Ginny threw a crumpled up piece of wrapping paper at him, "no, we're not gifting you a ring."

"We're not?" Fred gasped dramatically. He leaned over and loudly whispered to George. "I thought the plan was to be the ones who took the Boy Who Lived off the market officially so that we'd be the ones to crush the dreams of every single twenty-something girl in all of Britain. Didn't you say we were getting him a huge diamond ring?"

"No, no, no," George said. "You must have misheard me. I told you we were giving him that new product we just finished inventing-the shoestring. The shoestring that makes you sing every time you speak."

"Ohh," Fred groaned, clapping his hand to his forehead. "Damnit."

"Really amusing," Harry said dryly, raising his eyebrows. "Now what did you really get me?"

"We told you, it's a shoestring," Fred said quickly.

"Well, it should have been," George went on. "Fred might have accidentally bought you a diamond ring. With him being the dumber twin, he misunderstood the assignment."

"Somehow I'm having trouble believing any of that," Harry responded.

"Well, then, just open that box and find out for sure," George insisted, nodding towards the small box in Harry's hand.

"If it's another box..." I whispered to Fred, who laughed.

Fortunately, it was not another box. Instead, there were two very small pieces of paper inside, rolled up to look like tiny scrolls.

"We may have put a tiny shrinking charm on them," Fred said. "For effect so that they'd fit..." He took out his wand and leaned forward, waving his wand over the scrolls, which grew by a good few inches. Harry unrolled them and looked down in surprise for a moment before grinning.

"Really?" he asked.

"Really," Fred said. "Take Ginny and have a good time. A better time than the last time."

"What is it?" Ginny asked curiously, standing up and going to stand behind Harry, reading over his shoulder. She then snapped her head up to look at the twins as she squealed with joy.

"Two tickets to the Quidditch World Cup?" she asked. "You knew we were talking about going? It's on my birthday!"

The twins nodded. "Harry mentioned it, but he was having trouble scoring tickets," Fred said. "Couldn't get any before they sold out. Funny, Harry, you'd think as the Chosen One and as a well respected Auror, you could pull some strings."

"Shut up, Fred," Harry muttered as Ginny took the tickets from his hand.

"These are excellent seats, too," she said. "Thanks!"

Harry broke into a smile as well. "Yeah, really...thanks."

"Don't mention it," Fred said.

I noticed that he and George shared a knowing look with Harry, who mouthed thank you a second time as Fred and George both nodded.

"Not bad," I hissed to Fred as Harry continued opening his other gifts. "But what do you know that no one else does?"

"You picked up on that, eh?" Fred asked, his voice low. "Well, that's alright. Just as long as Ginny didn't." He paused and glanced at his sister to make sure she wasn't listening before looking back at me. "Harry's going to propose to her on her birthday. He mentioned that Ginny had expressed an interest in the World Cup and he wanted to pop the question there, but they couldn't get tickets, like we said. So we pulled a few strings of our own."

"That's exciting," I said, a smile spreading over my face. "Ginny will be thrilled. What kind of strings did you pull?"

"You know our friend Oliver? He's a professional Quidditch player," Fred said. "He's not playing in the World Cup, but he's got some connections."

"The same Oliver that Angelina has a thing with now?" I asked.

"Yep," Fred said, popping the P slightly as he gazed across the room at Harry, even though he didn't look like he was actually seeing anything.

"So you're still friendly with him?"

Fred shrugged. "Define friendly. I don't talk to him like I once did. I barely talk to him at all, in fact. But I can't hate him. Or Ange. I don't want to sabotage my friendships with them, but I can't help it. It still hurts, seeing them together and I think parts of them feel bad. Oliver did seem eager to help us get those tickets. And he got them quickly, too. So I guess the pain has its perks."

We sat in silence for a moment before Fred spoke again, his voice low. "So what about you and Noah?" His eyes shifted over to the boy sitting on my left, who was currently leaning forward and admiring Harry's gift from Ron-an impressive looking new jacket with a pocket inside made for holding a wand.

"What about me and Noah?" I asked.

"Are you two a thing now?"

"No, I don't think so." I shrugged as I offered up the same answer I'd given the girls earlier. As I'd said, Noah and I hadn't discussed it. All we'd done was kiss. And I was certainly fine taking things slow, and Noah was certainly fine with letting me.

"You don't even know where you two stand?" Fred asked in amazement.

"No." I paused. "He kissed me. That's all."

"Ah," Fred answered. "And how was it? Terrible?"

"No," I scoffed.

"Was it your first kiss?" Fred asked slowly.

"What makes you think that?" I asked, bristling. I hated that I felt so defensive and almost ashamed of my inexperience with all things romantic. It shouldn't be something to be conscientious or ashamed about. In the big picture, how important was it how many people I'd kissed or when it happened? Part of me always just felt that I was behind in some way and that I hadn't really got a chance to live a normal life in a lot of ways. I felt that it somehow made me less normal.

"Just a guess," Fred whispered. "You don't have to get all defensive."

"Sorry," I sighed. "It was, for your information. Dating wasn't really in the cards for me back home."

"Why?"

"Fred, are you serious?" I gaped up at him. "You're asking me, the so called woman of few words, why she never dated?"

"What, you think people won't ever like you because you're not talkative?" Fred said. "If no one ever bothered to try hard enough to get to know you, that's completely on them. And if they were worried about talking to someone who the snooty popular girls already decided was unworthy of attention, then they're cowards to boot. Honestly, who the hell cares?"

I stared up at him, slightly open mouthed for a second before I smiled. "Thanks. For at least pretending it had nothing to do with me."

"It doesn't," Fred said. "Noah clearly likes you. Granted, you do talk a lot more now than you did when you first showed up. And you've got a sense of humor in there, too. But you're still you and people like you."

"But, like you said, I talk a lot more here than I did back home. I've been more...myself, I guess. Showing off the real me. The person I perhaps should have been. Could have been if I hadn't been so worn down and just...uncomfortable with everything going on in my life. I've let my guard down considerably more than I ever did at school. It's different here. Back at school, I was content to be invisible and let people ignore me. I almost welcomed it on some occasions. So how can you say it has nothing to do with me when I didn't actively do anything to put myself out there?"

"You started off doing that here," Fred said. "And what got you to come out of your shell in the end?"

I thought about that for a second. "I suppose technically it was Rachel forcing me to be social."

Fred nodded. "You just needed a little help and guidance. You needed someone to show they cared. That made all the difference, I think. It seems to me that no one back in Salem wanted to put in the effort. Bunch of lazy bastards."

I laughed. "Well," I said with a sigh, "besides that, I don't think my foster father would have let me date anyone anyway."

Fred didn't seem to have a response to that. Finally: "I'm glad you got away. And I'm glad you came here."

"I'm glad too," I said, smiling up at him. A second later, my smile faded slightly. "I forgot to tell you..." I trailed off and lowered my voice even more. "The night Noah kissed me, he thought he saw something disappear down the alleyway next to Honeydukes. When we went to look, there was nothing there, but it put me on edge again."

Fred swallowed as he thought that over. "It could have been nothing," he said quietly.

"I'm starting to believe that less and less," I said. "Something's going on, Fred, and I can't put it together. I can't tell if it's someone trying to help me or not. I can't see how my foster family would be in possession of the diary or the necklace. Plus, I'd always just thought he'd immediately make himself known and take me back to Salem, or..." I sighed. "I don't know. I didn't think he'd hide. So I don't know what to think. I don't know who would be following me."

"Maybe it's no one."

"Someone dropped the diary in front of me," I said. "And that lady dropping the necklace in my bag? Do you think she could have dropped the diary too?"

"You said you didn't know her," Fred said. "So what business would she have giving you a diary from Salem and a random necklace?"

"Exactly," I said. "And if she did give me the diary, she'd have to know I was from Salem. She'd have to know who I am. But I don't know her."

Fred thought about that for a moment, but before he could say anything, we were interrupted by Harry thanking me for my present. He had opened it and I hadn't even noticed.

"Oh...yeah, of course. You're welcome. Just try not to eat it all in one sitting," I said with a smile.

"But do try to share it with your girlfriend," Ginny said, eyeing the small pile of Chocolate Frogs that were in the bag.

"If he's going to share it with anyone, it's going to be me," Ron interjected.

"And why's that?" Ginny asked.

"The day we became friends on the Hogwarts Express," Ron began, "Harry bought every last item from the trolley when it came by, and he split it with me. So it's symbolic and now an unspoken rule that half of Harry's food always comes to me."

"Absolutely not," Harry said with a laugh. "You're both mental if you think you're getting any of this. It's mine."

"Rude," Ginny huffed jokingly.

"You already benefitted from Fred and George's gift," Harry argued. "Let me have this one in peace."

"Come on, Harry," Ron argued teasingly, "if it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have even known about the famous witch or wizard cards inside the chocolate frog boxes."

"No, of course not," George said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "None of the other people at school would have ever mentioned it to him and we all know Harry's too dense to figure it out on his own."

"He's almost as observant as a brick," Fred added.

"Then again, Ron, you're not much better," George went on.

"Okay, how did I get dragged into this?" Harry asked, holding up his hands as Ron scowled at George's comment. "Besides, it's my birthday. I'm untouchable on my birthday."

"And every other day, for that matter," Fred said, "considering how many times Voldemort tried to kill you and couldn't." He and George laughed as Mrs. Weasley started scolding them for making such a joke.

"It's alright," Harry said, shaking his head. "They have a point."

"Ah, I wouldn't worry about it too much, Harry," Fred said. "It's a good thing."

"I was not aware an assortment of candy would be so popular," I muttered. "Now I know what to get all of you on your birthdays. My life just got a whole lot easier."

"Are you implying that you'll be around for all of our birthdays?" Noah asked. "Mine was April seventeenth, so you've got a while to wait until it comes around again." He nudged me and I rolled my eyes slightly.

"I was here on April seventeenth. Tom and Martha took me in on the ninth. I remember Rachel invited me to go out to celebrate, but I declined."

"You'd only been here a week, then," Noah said with a shrug. "And now that just means that you definitely have to stick around to make up for declining the invite."

I smiled over at him. "We'll see," I said quietly.

"We'll see?" he repeated with a chuckle. He sighed and shook his head. "I'm going to have to work on changing that to a definitive yes." He leaned over and pressed a quick, gentle kiss to my temple.

I couldn't help myself. I broke out into a grin as my stomach began to somersault.