"I'm going for the black one, definitely. No, wait, the grey one. Or should I go for the blue, you know, lighten things, jazz it up. Or should I not wear one at all? It's Hogsmeade, not the Yule Ball. But what if I don't wear one and she thinks that I don't care and don't take this seriously and I'm dressing like a sloth? Well?"

Ginny set down the book she had been reading, eyes full of mirth and quirking a smile. "I think," she said slowly, "that you are putting way too much thought into your neckwear choices, Nev. You need to relax."

Harry, who Neville had Floo-called for advice bobbed his transparent floating head. "Gin's right, Neville. If you're nervous then she'll get nervous and you won't be able to say a word to each other. Besides, Hannah's nice; I'm sure she's not going to be too fussed either way."

Neville slumped down in front of the fireplace. "You're right, you're right, I know you're right. I'm just not very experienced with the whole dating scene. You and Ginny always made it look so easy."

The two smiled at each other, a look that only comes with truly loving someone. "It wasn't as easy as you may think," Harry reminisced. "I was just as nervous for our first date. I was so sure I was going to mess it up and you'd realize you were too good for me."

Ginny shook her head. "Oh, love, you put yourself down too much. I was nervous, too. All the girls fancied you, and yet you picked me, but I knew in my heart that you were it for me, always had been."

Harry smiled at her, and it made Neville's heart twinge, just the tiniest bit, to see that kind of deep love. It was how, when his grandmother told him the stories, he had imagined his parents looking at each other, the only things that mattered in any room.

"Guys, guys, you're killing me over here. Any more cuteness and I may have to take a tie and cut my losses."

"Don't wear a tie," they both said in unison, making each other giggle.

"Fine, no tie." Neville leaned up from the floor, checking the clock. "It's two fifteen. I should get going." He got up, dusting off his best jumper and shirt, tucking a spare scarf, pair of gloves and his wand into his pocket, just in case. With British weather, it never hurt to be prepared, and a water-repelling charm was just as good as any umbrella.

Neville leaned against the couch, giving Ginny a hearty hug. "Thanks, Gin, for all your help. I would've called the whole thing off and died of shame if it wasn't for you."

Ginny hugged him right back, her book digging into his chest. She repositioned herself on the couch, crossing her legs and looking up at him. "It was my pleasure, Neville. You deserve to be happy."

"And thanks to you, too, mate. Good luck with your exam next week."

"Thanks, Nev, I need all the help I can get. Let me know how it all goes."

"I have no doubt Ginny will right a lengthy letter with every excruciating detail for you. Probably longer than our Astronomy essay."

"Oi! I resent that!" she cried out petulantly, although they all knew it was likely true. "Now, get on with you before you dob me in any more. Be safe!"

"And, word of advice mate, do not. Under any circumstances. Take her to Madame Puddlefoot's. I had nightmares for weeks after that. Made Umbridge look flipping her gaudiness"

"Thanks for the tip, mate. Right, I'm off," he said, doing a last survey of the common room, lest he had forgotten something. But, no everything was in order.

"Quit stalling," Ginny reprimanded, going back to her book."

"Yeah, mate, a lady doesn't like to be kept waiting," Harry said with a smile.

"I know, sorry, I'm gone. Have a good night, guys."

"You too," the couple chorused and the sound of their laughter followed Neville out the door.


Hogsmeade was always at its best in winter. With the cobbled streets glinting and the shop fronts warm and inviting, it was picturesque to the extreme, and perfect for a first date.

"Come on, now you're just making stuff up," Neville teased her as they sat on a bench, a bag of Bertie Botts and Pepper Imps between them, a blanket and Warming charm covering them both, their laughter coming out in spectral puffs on the air.

"I am not. They did, indeed, get milkshake all over the carpet, and since I was too young to do magic, I had to scrub it out with bleach in the fifteen minutes before their parents got home. But, it was a chance to watch Disney movies for four hours, and who doesn't love that?"

"You're a saint," Neville told her, his hand brushing hers as it dipped into the bag of sweets. She hadn't known what to expect, had been nervous beyond belief, pacing her room to her fellow Hufflepuff's amusement. Hannah had dated a little before, it was true, but Neville was different: he was a hero, and she didn't know what his expectations would be like. Luckily, shed had nothing to worry about, fir he'd been the perfect date, making her feel at ease within minutes. The conversation was effortless between them, and it was a nice change of pace to not have to filter what she thought; that Neville was actually interested in what she had to say made her heart flip and her cheeks blush, but she didn't mind, not one bit.

"I've always liked helping people," she said, biting into a Pepper Imp, feeling it's heat spread through her. "You know, small things here and there. Oh, and cooking, too. My mum always used to sell my brownies at the school bake sale. They used to practically fly out the door."

"I can't cook to save my life," Neville confessed, burrowing further under the blanket, shoulder pressing into her's, not unpleasantly. "My gean tried to teach me once, and even without magic, I almost managed to somehow burn down the kitchen."

"Maybe you didn't have the right teacher," Hannah said, a frown creeping onto her face. In the little time she'd known Neville, she'd come to the unsettling conclusion that Neville didn't think that highly of himself, he was quick to let others put him down. It made her want to wrap her arms around him, tell him how amazing and kind and brave and smart and funny she thought he was, that she'd never met anyone like him. But, this was a first date after all, and she couldn't show her cards too early. "I bet you'd be great if I gave you some pointers."

"I have no doubt about that." Neville turned to her, a smile on his face. "Hey, I've just thought of something. What about The Three Broomsticks, for your WWWE, that is? You're great with people, you're super talented and it's a great springboard if you want to delve deeper into the hospitality industry. And, you know, it's still close to the castle, so, we could still see each other. That is, if you wanted to, of course. Or not..."

Hannah silenced him by kissing him on the cheek, skin warm under her touch. She pulled away, cursing herself for a fool. Sweet Morgana, what had she been thinking, throwing herself at him like that? He probably thought she was an idiot. It was just, his offer had been so sweet and she did want to keep seeing him and...

This time, Hannah was the one who stopped as Neville tilted her face towards his, eyes intent and serious. "I'm going to kiss you now. Is that okay?"

"More than okay," she replied breathlessly as Neville leant in, and her whole world stopped to his lips on hers, tasting of sugar and frost and all the sweet and good things in life, his jacket rough under her fingers as she gripped it in a fist, holding onto him.

"Woah," Neville said, pulling away but not letting go, a brilliant smile on his face. "That was..."

"Amazing?" she supplied with a mischievous grin, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Yeah. Amazing. Just like you."


Blaise had never been too fond of the library. Although Draco practically lived there -especially when he was trying to fix the Vanishing Cabinet- and often dragged Blaise along to get him to study, he still didn't like it in there. He always felt like the shelves were pressing in on him, trying to pin him, a maze he couldn't get out of. But today necessity wore out discomfort, for he'd received yet another message from his 'partner,' and he needed to brush up on his Latin. With the WWWE fast approaching, they wanted Blaise to make a statement before Granger left, a reminder they still lurked in the shadows, that she wouldn't be safe.

Both her and Draco had looked dejected this past week, and he hardly saw them conversing in the hallways like they used to, wrapped up entirely in the other. Sure, it was nice not to be assaulted with their disgusting displays of affection, but Draco had still been his best friend for a long time, and he wanted him to be happy, and he would likely only be happy with Hermione, he saw that now. Maybe it wasn't a betrayal, what they felt for each other. Maybe it was time that the Purebloods had a change, a shakeup of their old ways. Or maybe he'd been staring at this Latin spell book for so long it was melting his brain.

A bang came up out of nowhere, and Blaise snapped the book shut, gaze roving over the figure who'd knocked one of his books to the floor, her unruly blonde curls held up with her wand, flowered earrings brushing her robes.

"Those are nice," he told Luna, going back to his book.

"Thank you. Christmas present from my dad. Blaise, we need to talk," she said, hopping up onto the table.

"Well, Luna dear, I'm mighty busy. How about some other time?" he dodged, trying not to feel guilty.

"Don't you pull that crap with me, Blaise. I know you're up to something."

"And whatever would make you say that, little eagle?" he drawled, stretching his arms behind his head, customary smirk firmly in place.

"Despite what you might think, I know you, Blaise, and I can tell when something's bothering you. You've been skulking about all week, this is your third trip to the library in as many days, and you still haven't signed up for your WWWE yet," Luna pointed out, crossing her arms stiffly over her chest.

Merlin, why did she have to look so cute when she got pissed?

"Their is nothing suspicious or nefarious in wanting to fine-tune ones education, Luna dear," Blaise replied, knowing even as he said the words that they were futile: Luna saw through everything, most of all him.

"There is when it's you."

His chair's front legs slammed forward, hitting the polished wood with a smack. Blaise ignore the angry glares, instead moving past Luna to the opposite shelf, fingers absently skimming spines. "Luna, leave it be."

"No, I won't."

"I won't ask again," he told her, voice clipped and removed.

"Make me."

Fine. Two could play at that game. Blaise gripped her by the shoulders, her collarbones digging into his palms. "Please, Luna," he begged her, "please leave this be. I don't want you to get hurt."

"But I don't want you to get hurt," she murmured, her breath warming his chin.

Blaise shook his head, letting out a sad and defeated chuckle. "I'm more than capable of looking after myself, lass. This isn't your fight."

"You made it my fight when you came to me, when you let your walls down for me!" Luna protested, spinning out if his grip. "I'm not some child playing games, in need of coddling and protecting. Trying to do whatever this is alone is not only stupid, but unnecessary. If you're in some kind of trouble, I could..."

"You could what?" he barked, storming up to her. "Go and reel your merry band of idiots and they'd sort it all out? As if they would ever look twice at my problems, and frankly I wouldn't want them to. I can sort this out on my own. I will sort this out on my own. And right now, you're in my way, Luna dear, which is a very dangerous place to be, so I suggest you get out if it and leave me be. Permanently. No good can come from us being in the same room together."

He didn't mean it. Of course, he didn't mean it. He wanted to break down, wanted to put his head in her lap and cry, let her help him fix this colossal mess he'd laned himself in. He'd been blind, so blindly desperate for things to be how they used to. But he knew now, that you could not suspend time in amber, could not preserve all things how you wished forever, that everything good and beautiful had to change, to grow, or else it would not be good or beautiful. She'd helped him see that, but it was all too late now.

If he didn't do this, then they would come after her, his Luna, his only friend, the only girl he had ever truly cared about.

It was better this way. Better she hated him, rather than care for him and end up hurt, or worse, yet again, at the hands of a Pureblood, and one of the worst at that. For if Lucius Malfoy found out that Blaise had abandoned his plans to destroy Hermione Granger and bring Draco back to his 'senses' for a girl, but Luna Lovegood of all witches, then there would be no end to the misery he would bestow on her, on him. Just because the man was in prison didn't mean he couldn't get things done: Blaise was proof enough of that.

Luna sat down, leaving him standing before her, a weary knight standing defeated before his queen. She took his hand, and Blaise didn't know how to stop her, even if he'd wanted to, so he made no move.

"What does Lucius have on you?" she asked, barely more than an exhaled breath.

Blaise tried to draw away, but she held firm, her eyes pinning him to the spot. "Don't make me ask again, Blaise."

"How did you know?"

"There aren't many people with severe enough grudges against Hermione and Draco, but Hermione most of all. Lucius wants you to break them up before they fall in love and Draco becomes beyond his reach."

"It's too late for that," Blaise said resignedly, fingers smoothing over her knuckles.

"It is indeed too late for that. But Lucius isn't aware of that, is he? And there's more than one way to play the game," Luna said, flicking through the books on the table with her free hand. She stopped at one, a bemused glint in her eye.

Blaise smirked. "What did you have in mind?"


Author's Note: Hello, everyone! I'm so very sorry for not updating, I've been super busy, plus my tablet broke and I had to re-write a few chapters of various fics. But here I am, and here's a weekend chapter for you all. Are you surprised that Lucius is the one behind Blaise's behaviour? Did you know all along? Let me know! Thank you so much for sticking with me, I promise I have a plan for everything!

Until next time.

All my love, Temperance Cain