"Come on, Vera. Drink some English Breakfast." Al said, nudging my elbow with the steaming teacup. I didn't respond but simply nuzzled my face further into the crook of my elbow. "It'll wake you u-up." He insisted, adopting a singsong voice that made him sound like an overly bubbly television solicitor.

"Oh sod off." I groaned at him.

He chuckled. "What's up with you this morning?"

"Exhausted. Up late." I muttered, too tired to punctuate my message with complete sentences.

"Why were you up late?"

"No reason." I said quickly. I regretted the words the instant they were out of my mouth. Saying there was no reason meant that there was, beyond any doubt, a reason, an Al knew that. His eyes were glinting with curiosity when I finally glanced up at him.

"Oooh. What were you doing?"

I considered devising an intricate lie, but a moment later inspiration struck and I came up with something much more brilliant.

"I was with your brother." I grinned evilly at him. He blanched as the implication of my words penetrated his mind's eye. He looked as though he might vomit. I grinned, knowing I had officially won. The bench creaked a moment later and James sat down beside me. He opened his mouth to speak at the same moment Albus burst out,

"You're not allowed to sleep with my best friend!"

James raised an eyebrow at him, "Good to know." He said casually.

"Ugh, yuck." Al moaned. "I'm done eating." He pushed his plate away and stood to swing his bag over his shoulder, "Meet me in the library when you're done with this unholy union." With that, he stalked from the Great Hall.

"What did you say to him?" James asked curiously, his eyes following his brother from the hall.

I laughed. "I can honestly say he jumped to that conclusion entirely on his own."

James shrugged and glanced around the sparsely populated Hall. Apparently deciding that no one was looking, he pecked me swiftly on the lips and murmured,

"I had fun last night."

I smiled genuinely at him. "Me too."

This was true for the most part. I did have fun…up until the moment when I had encountered that ratty old textbook bearing the name of the Half-Blood Prince. I was awake even longer after James and I had parted company around 2am, pondering this new piece of information. So…the Prince had gone to Hogwarts. I wished I'd thought to check the publishing date. Perhaps I could have gotten an idea of when he had been at school, which would, with any luck, give me further clues about his identity. I'd thought about asking James to take me back so I could further inspect my discovery, but I hadn't told him I'd found the book to begin with. I don't know why I was holding back this piece of information. I just felt, for admittedly no logical reason whatsoever, that this was something I needed to figure out alone.

"Perhaps you'd like to do it again sometime?" He asked tentatively.

I smiled again. "Of course. It'll have to be next weekend though. Merlin knows I don't get enough sleep during the week as it is."

"I would've thought you'd sleep in this morning considering how late we were out last night. Why are you awake so early?"

"Oh Al dragged me out of bed at the crack of dawn this morning so we could finish our Transfiguration project. I suppose it wasn't really the crack of dawn, more like seven thirty, but hey, it is Sunday. Why are you up at this hour?"

"Oh I have a busy day ahead of me. Fred's birthday is coming up so I have to sneak into Hogsmeade today to get him a present. The way I go is a little less direct than the conventional path so it'll probably occupy most of my morning. Then I have to meet with the other Quidditch captains to work out the practice schedule. Who gets to use the field and when, you know. And that usually takes forever because Barnabus Colby of Slytherin is an uncompromising git. The match against Hufflepuff isn't until February so we don't even take precedence. We probably won't get the field until Wednesday evening at the earliest."

I would have normally been irritated by the news of Barney once again being as immovable as a rock, but instead I found myself relieved that I could spend another couple of days out of the company of Donovan. Staying true to my nature, I had taken to diving into alcoves and secret passages when I saw him in the corridor, and, in certain cases, even finding a less direct route to class to avoid him. Then something else James had said jumped out at me.

"Hold on, how do you sneak into Hogsmeade?"

He grinned cryptically at me and took a long, drawn out sip of pumpkin juice. "All part of the tour, Ms. Malfoy."

I felt briefly irritated and excited. Irritated because he refused to immediately reveal his secrets to me, and excited because I knew I would discover all these wonders eventually.

"Alright then, Mr. Mysterious. Be that way. I've got to go anyways." I stood and was in the process of swinging my bag over my shoulder when he caught my wrist.

"Just a second, Vera. I had a question."

"What's that?" I asked, reaching over to a golden tray with my free hand and plucking a piece of toast off of it.

"Have you…have you heard anything from my dad since we've been back?"

I tilted my head, looking at him with a calculating expression. "No…why?"

He released my wrist and turned back to his plate. "No reason."

"James," I ran my fingers through his hair, gently encouraging him to look at me. "What is it? You can tell me."

"Nothing important. You have to go anyways, don't you?"

"James…" I insisted.

"It's nothing, really. I'll tell you about it later. Now go get to work, slacker." His joking smile was back.

"Alright." I said hesitantly. I took a bite of my toast before striding off.

I arrived at the library several moments later to find an agitated Albus waiting for me. He had already collected several books and piled them precariously on a table in the back corner. I sat down beside him and pulled one of the larger volumes toward me.

"So what are we doing today?" I asked, reading several of the titles he had extracted. Al picked up a piece of parchment laying beside his elbow and read,

"Research and write a report about a famous Transfiguration icon. Afterward, attempt to repeat the experiment performed by your chosen witch or wizard. Points will be awarded based on the quality of research and the success of your experiment."

There followed a rubric and a sample essay. Al and I set to researching, eventually settling on a witch named Tabatha Spectra, made famous for her work regarding the transfiguration of everyday materials into edible items to aid third world countries. After finishing our report, which was approximately two rolls of parchment in length, we attempted to repeat Spectra's experiment. Albus set to work muttering over a candelabrum while I tried my hand with a tarnished silver teapot. I succeeded first in transforming my teapot into a loaf of bread. Ten minutes later, Al made a noise of delight as his candelabra formed into a carrot. We switched projects to test the edibility of the afore mentioned loaf and carrot. I informed Al that his carrot had a waxy aftertaste, to which he replied that my wheat bread had a metallic tinge to it. Knowing that Professor Mutero would subtract points for such an error, we resigned to make another attempt after lunch.

I was halfway through a plate of spinach ravioli (which thankfully tasted like spinach ravioli and not, for instance, a chair leg) when Janie plopped down beside me at the Gryffindor table, looking as though she was about to explode with excitement.

"Vera!" She squealed. "I did it! It's finally happening!"

"That's excellent Janie! Congratulations!" Then after a moment, "What exactly did you do?"

She rolled her eyes at me. "Oh lord, Vera. Have you not listened to a word I've said the last three months?"

"Of course I have!" I protested.

She raised a distrusting eyebrow. "Okay. What am I talking about then?"

Damn it. "Er…can I have a hint?"

She thought for a moment. "Hmmm…cupid."

"Oh!" I said as the information came to me. "That Valentine's Day Ball thing you were working on. Finally got it past McGonagall then?"

She squealed excitedly in response.

"Good for you. I hope you have fun." I said, returning to my meal.

"Oh do we have to have this argument every time there is a social event?"

"It's not an argument. I just don't like dances."

"Oh come on! Please?"

"No! Remember what happened last time?"

"At the club? That was two years ago! And it wasn't even that bad." She said dismissively.

"Let's review, shall we?" I said, setting down my fork. "The night began with you forgetting the address to the club and us driving around London for two hours and wracking up a fifty pound tab with the cabbie. Then, on the way into the club, you broke your heel on the storm drain and wouldn't shut up 'til I gave you my shoes. When we got inside, I was on the dance floor for five minutes in which I was groped once, elbowed twice, once in the stomach and once in the jaw, and stepped on five times. I escaped to sit at the bar where a forty-year-old man insisted on buying me a drink. I was rescued by that twenty-year-old bloke, only to find that he was a run away convict. I also, incidentally, discovered this just as the police caught up to him. Not only that, but during the scuffle, I was caught in the midst of the six man rugby tackle as they attempted to apprehend him. After which I was dragged down to the muggle police station to be questioned about what we'd discussed during the five minutes he and I spoke. However, upon discovering I was underage, they realised they had to contact my parents before subjecting me to questioning. Except guess what? According to the muggle database, Vera Malfoy doesn't exist. They decided that must mean I was a member of an under cover militia group brewing plans to overthrow the government through the use of black market fire arms. They put me in a holding cell and I had to use my 'one phone call' to call my father, my father, Janie, who incidentally has little knowledge of the correct use of the telephone, to come and bail me out. Except muggles don't accept galleons as payment, so he had to wipe their memories. Then the two of us had to figure out how to get rid of the incident both in the computer database and something called a 'surveillance camera' or risk exposing the magical world. So tell me Janie, what part of that wasn't 'that bad'?"

She waved away my rant as though I was a petulant child and came back with, "And when was the last time your 'I was arrested my the muggle police' story didn't get a good laugh at parties?"

"I'm not going, Janie." My tone was final.

"So you're going to let one bad experience spoil you on dances forever?"

"One bad experience? One bad experience? Janie, were you listening – "

"Of course I was. But don't you want to go at least a little bit?" She made her eyes round and pleading.

I paused. Of course I wanted to go a little bit. I mean, show me the girl who didn't want to go to a dance a little bit. But they just didn't fit with my personality. I didn't like loud music or big crowds or – well – dancing. I was more of a small, intimate gathering person. Plus, naturally, I didn't want to go alone, and I knew I would never be able to convince James to go with me. There were many good reasons for keeping our – I guess you'd call it a "relationship" – a secret. And I had no interest in going with anyone but him.

Janie knew she had gotten to me. "Come on, V. At least promise me you'll think about it?"

"Alright, fine." I promised. Janie grinned at me.

"I'm so excited. Ava, Elena, Violet, and I are going into Hogsmeade in January to get dresses and then…"

She went on to describe to me, in painstaking detail, all her preparation plans. Everything from how she would wear her hair to which boy she should coax into asking her. Albus thankfully rescued me from her musings after only ten minutes.

Having been chastised by the librarian earlier that morning for eating in the library (even though the food in question had previously been household furnishings) we set up shop in the Gryffindor common room and resumed our experiment. After an hour and a half of arduous labour, Al and I both successfully transformed our objects. Our victory was short lived however, as we still had a mountain of homework to finish for other classes.

I found myself excited for prefect duty that evening. Not because I was anxious to prosecute third years for nighttime dalliances, but because James and I were scheduled to patrol. The idea of the Valentine's Day Ball was still hibernating in the back of my head when I met James outside the portrait hole at eleven o' clock that evening. But I did not broach the subject as he kissed me "hello" and we set off down the corridor.

"So how was your trip to Hogsmeade?" I asked, as we tread slowly, hand in hand up the sixth floor corridor.

"It was excellent. I almost got caught." He cast me his familiar devious grin.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "I think there's a word for people like you. Thrill-seeker? No…action-junkie?"

He laughed and bumped his shoulder lightly against mine. "I prefer daredevil or fearless explorer, actually."

"You really are a Gryffindor, aren't you?" I said, shaking my head affectionately at him.

"I never strive for anything less." He grinned at me again, and my heartbeat hiccupped slightly.

"So tell me all about it. Was there a pirate involved or perhaps a saucy maiden?"

"Of course! If you consider the Honeydukes store clerk to be a pirate and the elderly Madam Rosmerta a saucy maiden."

"I hear she was quite fit in her day." I said fairly.

"Well I suppose she's quite fit for a sixty-something-year-old woman but that's not the point now is it?"

"I suppose not. Anyway, continue."

He proceeded to sew an epic tale of high adventure, narrow escape, and unyielding bravery.

Apparently, his journey through the secret passageway to Hogsmeade (the location of which he refused to disclose) had gone by without incident. However, upon reaching the Honeydukes cellar, disaster struck. The store clerk had acquired a pair of rubber soled shoes since the last time James snuck into Hogsmeade, so had appeared suddenly on the stairs behind him just he slid the trapdoor shut. It was only through his quick thinking, enormous intellect, sly elegance, and, of course, his invisibility cloak, that he managed to escape discovery. After visiting Zonko's Joke Shop, he'd decided to go and visit Madam Rosmerta at The Three Broomsticks. He was halfway through a butterbeer with the barmaid when the door suddenly opened and in came Hagrid, Professor McGonagall, Professor Velveteen, Professor Mutero, Professor Pierce, and (here's where I grew skeptical) Kingsley Shacklebolt. Once again, he managed to escape only through his own natural skill. He'd slipped under the bar and swiftly donned the invisibility cloak, after which he waited for the door to open again for an opportunity to slip out. He'd hightailed his way back to Honeydukes after that and slid smoothly down into the passageway and back to school.

"I'm surprised you managed to escape with your life." I commented once he had finished.

"Don't think it was easy." He quipped.

I rolled my eyes. "And the captain's meeting? How'd that go?"

"Better than I expected." He replied. "We get the field Wednesday and Friday evening and Saturday morning for the next two weeks. Then after the Slytherin vs. Hufflepuff game we can get it pretty much every day after school or in the evening."

"So I should clear my schedule for Tuesday?" I replied casually.

"Absolutely. There's a lot I want to accomplish before mid-February so we really need to buckle down."

I nodded absently. My mind had flown to the Valentine's Day Ball. I briefly debated bringing it up when the matter was taken out of my hands.

"Speaking of mid-February…did you hear about that dance thing?"

"Hear about it? Janie is one of my best friends. Heard about it is a bit of an understatement."

He gave a noncommittal laugh. "So does that mean you're going?"

He didn't look at me as he said this. I stared at him calculatingly. Why was he asking? Did he want to go? Did he want to go with me? Or was he just making conversation? Knowing him the way I did, it was unlikely he wished to go at all. Maybe he would go if I asked him. I thought. But then of course the obvious problem made itself apparent to me. Attending the dance together would mean revealing the relationship we had so carefully concealed from almost everyone. I could see the headlines now, "James Potter and the Huntswoman: Prepare to Have your Heart Cut Out," or "The Hero and the Traitor: An Unlikely Love Story." Media speculation was an unfortunate part of both of our lives, and something I wanted to avoid at all costs. However the idea of him being mine and I being his and everyone knowing was extremely inviting… At last I mustered a response.

"No, I don't think so. I'm not much of a dance person."

"Me either." He agreed nonchalantly. I knew it. "The only fun part is usually spiking the punch bowl." I chuckled distractedly. "Well since neither of us is going, maybe we can do something else that – Oi! You! Any idea what time it is?"

He was interrupted by a third year Slytherin boy, who chose that moment to topple out of a nearby passageway.

"I – er…" The boy stuttered, glancing around distractedly.

"Curfew was an hour ago. What are you doing out of bed?" James demanded, sounding abnormally strict. The resultant terrified expression that gripped the boys face seemed suddenly disproportional to the situation at hand. James seemed to notice this as well. His tone softened considerably. "Listen…what's your name?"

"L-Leonard." The boy muttered quickly. James approached him and bent slightly so as to be on the same eye level as the boy.

"Listen, er, Leonard. If you go back to your common room right now – without any detours mind you – we'll forget this ever happened. Savvy?"

Relief flooded the boy's pudgy features. "Y-yes sir. Thank you so much."

"Good. But know that if I ever find you out here again, I won't be quite so forgiving."

The boy nodded vigourously before spinning on his heel and taking off.

"James, that was…strangely compassionate of you." I commented once he was gone.

"Don't be impressed with me yet." He told me, turning and pulling aside the tapestry the boy had tumbled out of. Standing just inside the passageway was a group of Slytherin third year boys. "Well hello there." James greeted with mock-enthusiasm. "You must be Leonard's friends. I say friends, but I should probably say tormentors. Why don't you four come and join me in the corridor? That way I can have plenty of light to write you each a detention slip."

The boys filed sulkily out of the passage and grudgingly gave their names to James as he scribbled out detention slips. When all the punishments had been distributed, James said,

"Excellent. Thank you lads. But I should warn you, if you pull a trick like that again with one of your classmates, I'll write you up for more than just breaking curfew." They nodded, each of them staring daggers at James. "Good. Now off you go."

The boys turned and trudged toward the staircase. As they passed, the tallest, broadest looking one rammed his shoulder roughly into mine and hissed,

"Blood traitor."

The other boys guffawed appreciatively.

"Oi! Bulstrode. Get your arse back here." James barked suddenly. The bulky one, Bulstrode, strode back to face James and stood there, sneering at him. In one swift movement, James grabbed hold of his collar and rammed him against the stonewall. Before I knew it, James' wand was out, the tip pressed to Bulstrode's throat.

"James!" I gasped. He ignored me.

"Listen, you little toad, that comment back there just pushed you to the top of my shit list which is not a place you want to be, believe me." I don't know about the other boys, but I wholeheartedly believed him. "So now instead of Prefect Potter, you're now dealing with James Potter, and he just took a special interest in you. So if you have any idea what's good for you, you will never let those words pass your lips again. Especially not to Ms. Malfoy, got it?"

Bulstrode nodded vigourously, looking terrified. Confident that he had made his point, James pushed the boy away roughly. Bulstrode and his friends, with newfound motivation, took off down the stairs and out of sight.

"Er…James…" I said once he'd turned back to face me. "I appreciate you defending my honour and all but…won't you get in trouble for threatening him?"

To my surprise, he smiled easily. "I'm not worried about Bulstrode. I know his type. He's too proud to admit that someone can rattle him. He won't go running off to teachers. Nah, he'll try and get back at me on his own."

"And that doesn't worry you?" I asked as we continued walking.

James scoffed in response. "Let him try his worst."

I rolled my eyes at his confidence. It would be the death of him one day.

There was a beat of silence before another thought occurred to me. "Why did you let the one go but reprimand all the others?"

"Because he was just a pawn."

"What do you mean?"

He looked suddenly shifty. "There's this thing – I suppose you could call it a rouse – that some of the younger boys use all the time to sneak around without detection. They pick out some poor young blighter who desperately wants to fit in with the "cool kids," and pretend to be friends with him. Then they peer pressure him into going on a midnight escapade with them. Except with the sole purpose of him acting as a decoy in case they run into any teachers or prefects whilst sneaking around. He gets in trouble and the rest get off scot-free. It's a bit sick really."

"How do you know so much about it? Did you…participate in it?"

He laughed bitterly. "Participate? I practically invented it my first year here."

"But…why?" I asked, startled by this new piece of information.

He shrugged dismissively. "Because I was a blinkered little duffer, that's why. You weren't the only one I was an arse to. When I came here, people treated me like a god. Everyone wanted to talk to me, to be my friend. Students and teachers alike fawned over me; said I was special. And I believed them. First few years I was here, I thought the whole school belonged to me. That I could anything I wanted. I had my pick of the girls and a never-ending stream of admirers. Naturally, I took advantage of it. My head was as big as a hot air balloon and filled with twice as much air."

We both lapsed into silence. Eventually I said,

"So what changed?"

He thought for a moment. "I'm not sure really. It was around fourth year I suppose. The teachers told us to start thinking about our futures. What we wanted to do when we left Hogwarts. I've known I want to be an auror since as long as I can remember. But I needed top marks for it. I was doing fine in school just going off of natural skill. Then one day Professor Pierce sat me down and told me to imagine all I could accomplish if I actually tried. I started to work then. I spent hours in the library. Tried to clean up my act. Started trying to be less of a prat to my peers."

"So it was Professor Pierce who inspired you?" I supposed he was an inspirational enough person.

"Yeah…him and…er…"

"And…?"

He looked directly at me then. "And you."

I was taken aback. "Me? How?"

"It was that day you rescued Eliza from the lake. In all my fourteen years I'd never seen anyone do something so completely and utterly…selfless. I didn't even realise such kindness was possible. That's when things really started to change. When I really started to change. That was also around the time I started to really pay attention to you. I'd always found you worthy of observation, but it was around thirteen when you really became difficult to ignore. You got taller, curvier. Your hair got longer, your eyes greener, your eyelashes darker, your cheekbones sharper. I wasn't the only one who noticed either. It was after that day by the lake that I had to work to take my eyes off of you, to get you out of my head. I hated myself for it, which made me despise you even more. I settled my mind at the beginning of this year though. I told myself that the only reason I wanted you was because I couldn't have you. Because it would be so delightfully wrong to be with you. That satisfied me for a while, but then there was that kiss in the changing rooms, and here we are now. I've finally let go of my stupid convictions about you and I still want to be with you."

I smiled at him. Knowing I couldn't possibly dream up a response genuine enough to match his confession, I simply stood on my toes and gave him a long, gentle kiss.

Wednesday evening proved to be the worst Quidditch practise in Gryffindor history. Not only was it so cold that even the fire newts were shivering in the heart of the flames, but a metaphorical hate square had sprung up between four members of the team. The tension with Don would have been difficult enough even without the sudden feud that had arisen between Rose and James. From what I gathered, Scorpius had caught wind of a potential relationship of more than the friendly sort between James and I (and I was convinced that it was that little toad Bulstrode who had started the breeze) and had accosted him outside of the Great Hall. James, being himself, made several equally sneering comments that earned him a wand to the throat. Rose had managed to intervene before any actual magic was cast, but remained convinced that James had initiated the scuffle.

So now Don was furious with me for obvious reasons, I was displeased with Rose for perpetually siding with my brother, Rose was staring daggers at James for allegedly picking a fight with Scorpius, and James was glaring at Don for being so surly towards me. Our bickering and sidelong insults finally culminated in a railing to the stands splintering in Don's hands after James wrapped his arms around me to teach me the Sloth Grip Roll.

"Er…I think we're done for the day. To the changing rooms then." James said sheepishly.

The team dispersed gratefully and I hurried over to Don, ignoring the meaningful look James cast me. I pulled out my wand as I approached him and reached for Don's ragged and splintered hand. He yanked it away sharply saying,

"Leave me alone, Vera."

"I can help."

"I don't want you're help. Now go away."

"No." I said firmly, fighting back the hurt I felt at his harsh words. "Give me your hand. Right now."

He glared at me for one long moment before laying his hand in mine. I ran my wand over his hand several times, muttering some of the spells I'd learned from An Introduction to the Magic of Healing. The wooden splinters eased slowly from beneath his skin and sprinkled lightly onto the snow. I sterilised the wound then conjured a small bandage and began to wrap it around his hand, missing the days when he didn't shrink from my touch. I didn't let go of him when I was finished. Instead I stared at his palm, unwillingly to face his eyes.

After a moment he sighed,

"You know something, Vera? You really are magical."

My already red cheeks filled with a blush.

"Don…can we please just talk about this?"

"There isn't anything to talk about, Vera. Sometimes things just end. And more often than not they end badly. You just have to let me hate you for a while."

I flinched at the strength of his word choice. "…A while? So not forever?"

He was silent for such a long time that I looked up. He was gazing at me thoughtfully.

"No, not forever."

I released a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding. "Thank Merlin. I…I really do care about you, Don."

He exhaled loudly. "I know, Vera. But I don't want to hear that right now. Please just leave me alone."

I nodded and released him. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and strolled away. I watched him go, feeling almost sick with guilt.

"That was kind of you." Said a familiar voice. I jumped. How was he always able to appear out of nowhere like that?

"Were you spying on us?" I demanded of him furiously. He had the grace to look ashamed.

"I'm sorry. It's in my nature."

I sighed. "I know. Al is nosier that what's good for him too." After which another figure stepped out from beneath the stands, the identity of whom was none other than Albus Potter. I groaned at them. "Is there anyone else back there I should know about?"

The brothers glanced at each other.

"Er, not this time." Al said shiftily.

"What do you mean this time?" I was outraged.

"Nothing." James said quickly. "Let's go get changed shall we?"

Albus left first with Rose, but James hung back to wait for me. We were the last out of the changing rooms by the time I was done. I fixed my traveling cloak tightly around me and James and I set off over the icy tundra back to the castle. I sighed in relief when we reached the warm embrace of the entrance hall. It was around eight o' clock in the evening, so most students had already retired to their common rooms. There were still a few puttering about however, either dawdling in the corridors or sprinting back and forth to the library. I was about to pull my scarf from my face and make for the stairs when a purring female voice said,

"James, I've been looking for you all evening."

I glanced around to see a beautiful, tall, dark-haired girl saunter out of the shadows. I stared at her. She had the slim figure and exotic face of a model, with enormous, heavy-lidded eyes, high cheekbones, a sharp, French nose, and full pink lips. I hated her instantly.

"Oh, er, hello Levine. I was at Quidditch practise." James said stiffly. She glided toward us as though on wheels and touched his arm.

"Working very hard I imagine."

"Always." He replied.

"Good, good." She murmured, lightly caressing circles into his upper arm. I raised an eyebrow at her. James coughed awkwardly and said,

"So you were looking for me?"

"Oh yes. I wanted to talk to you." She barely glanced at me as she said this. I wondered briefly why she didn't react to my presence before I realised that I was wearing a hood over my hair and a scarf over the lower half of my face. She may not even recognise me. Either that or she didn't care who I was no matter what.

"About what?" James asked, glancing toward the marble staircase as though planning an escape route.

"Well the Valentine's Day Ball is coming up in a few weeks. I was wondering if you would like the honour of being my date."

I coughed behind my scarf but Levine ignored me.

"That's, er, very flattering Levine, but I'm not going to the Ball."

She gasped as though he had just let slip a disgraceful secret. "Why ever not?"

"I'm not much of a dance person." He muttered evasively.

She drew even closer to him. "I'm sure if you went with me you'd have a good time."

"I'm sure too, but I just don't want to go to the dance."

"Of course you do. I'm positive I can convince you." She was so close now her body was almost touching his. For the first time in my life, I saw James Potter look completely flustered. I coughed again. He glanced at me and seemed to gain confidence from my presence.

"You know, I was just trying to let you down easily before. I'm actually going with someone already."

Her perfect nose wrinkled. "Who?"

"Er, you don't know her." He muttered.

Levine rolled her large eyes, seeming to grow impatient. "As far as I'm concerned, if you don't tell me who she is, she doesn't exist. Which means your schedule still has a vacancy on it."

"She does exist!" James protested.

"Really?" Levine said doubtfully. "Who is she then?"

James looked hurriedly around entrance hall, as though searching for inspiration. "She…er…she is…"

"Me." I burst out suddenly, surprising even myself.

"You?" Levine asked.

"Yeah. Me." I confirmed.

"And who are you, exactly?" She squinted her eyes as though trying to recognise me.

"Er…James' date to the Ball, obviously." I said, as though it was blatant. Knowing I wouldn't be able to improvise like this much longer, I swiftly gripped James' hand and pulled him up the marble staircase. Levine was so bewildered that she did not even attempt to pursue us.

I didn't break my stride until we'd cleared the landing to the seventh floor corridor, where I stopped to take a few deep breaths. I was in fairly good shape from Quidditch season, but we were exactly running marathons on the field.

James regained his breath before I did and used the extra time to grin mischievously at me. "I thought we weren't going to the dance." He said teasingly.

I groaned at him but said firmly, "Well, we are now."

The news that James Potter was taking a mysterious green-eyed girl to the Valentine's Day Ball spread quickly the next day. I discovered the gossip when I popped into the loo before breakfast and overheard a group of bubbly fifth year girls discussing it.

"I wonder who she is." One said.

"Me too. Karen said that Jane said that Laura said that Emma said that Levine Bordeaux said that she didn't recognise her." Another replied.

"A mystery girl? That's so romantic." A third swooned. "It's like Cinderella."

I made a mental note to ask Janie who the hell Cinderella was before tuning back into their conversation.

"We should keep an eye out for her. You know, look for every girl at school with green eyes." Said a fourth voice.

"Good idea, Maureen." Said the second voice.

I was very careful to allow my hair to fall over my face as I washed my hands.

I arrived in the Great Hall a few minutes later and proceeded to drop into a seat beside Janie.

"'Morning." I greeted.

"'Morning mystery girl." She replied with a giggle.

I groaned. "Yeah I just heard. How'd you figure it out?"

Her tone turned sarcastic. "Let's see, a thin girl of medium height with green eyes who is allegedly dating James Potter. That doesn't narrow it down at all. Hmmm…I suppose it was just my natural intuition then."

I rolled my eyes and began piling food onto a plate. Then I remembered something.

"Oh that reminds me, Janie. Who the hell is Cinderella?"

"Er, a muggle princess. Her mother died and her father married this evil woman with two wicked daughters. After her father died, they made her do housework and stuff. But she had a fairy godmother who gave her a ball gown and sent her to the king's ball where the prince fell in love with her. Except no one knew who the hell she was so he took the shoe she left behind and had women all over the kingdom try it on. He figured who ever fit the shoe was the mystery girl, and whoever the mystery girl was, he wanted to marry her. Naturally, women all over the place started butchering their feet to try and fit into this shoe, so he was fooled a few times. But he found her eventually and…depending on what version you read, they lived happily ever after or had a horrible accident."

Lord muggles were strange.

"But…" I said, trying to comprehend the story she had just told me, "Why would he use her shoe as identification. Did she have an usual shoe size or something?"

Janie rolled her eyes. "It's just a story Vera. Everyone knows magic doesn't exist."

I raised an eyebrow. "Er, Janie. Remind me what you are?"

She stopped to think for a moment before smacking herself in the forehead. "Sorry. You're right. Force of habit."

I shrugged. "Nah, it's good I guess. If muggles don't believe we exist then they don't think to look for us."

Janie shrugged in agreement and we set to eating. Albus and Mark joined us a moment later, looking rather drowsy.

"What's wrong with you two?" I asked as they plopped down across from us.

"Someone forgot to set the alarm clock." Al said, casting a meaningful glance at Mark.

Mark looked irritable. "Maybe he wouldn't have forgotten if someone else hadn't needed so much help with potions homework and hadn't kept the first person up until midnight."

"Well maybe someone – "

Their bickering was interrupted by the arrival of the post owls. I had not written any letters recently, so I was thoroughly surprised when a screech owl landed in front of me. I recognised it at once. It was my dad's owl. I untied the leather thong and pulled the scroll of parchment off the owl's leg. It took off instantly and I watched it fly away before examining the scroll. It was crinkled and smeared with mud, and looked as though it had been rolled hurriedly. I turned it over and saw, unmistakably in my father's handwriting, the words:

Olivera Narcissa Greengrass-Malfoy

The Great Hall

Hogwarts

My hands shook slightly as I unrolled the letter. There, in smeared black ink, were only two words:

They're coming.

Author's Note: Any thoughts?

Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: Nimea, EmmaB, and magical origami