Chapter 7 - Gryffindor vs Slytherin

Josiah pinned the small gold and scarlet button to his school robes, adjusting his blue and brown woolly scarf so that it did not obscure Noah's gift. He charmed it in place just to be sure; people could knock Witch Weekly all they liked, but as far as Jo was concerned, they were tops when it came to practical wardrobe and… well… other spells.

He exhaled slowly, pursing his lips as he ran his hands over his torso. He always gained weight this time of year, how unflattering…. He thought of all the skinny, rather objectively attractive fangirls that Noah had accumulated, and he furrowed his eyebrows.

Pushing the thought out of his mind, he climbed down the staircase, out of the common room door, and to the portrait which revealed a shortcut to the ground floor.

Noah had barely gotten any sleep last night. This was it! All that he had worked for, for the last five years came down to this game; a game that could change his life forever.

He had done everything he could, the best way he could – especially with Jo's help – but none of it would matter if Gryffindor didn't win the Cup this year. He leaned over the sink and washed his face fiercely, then looked up at his reflection. The blue pair of eyes that stared back at him looked tired, but determined. He huffed out a breath.

He checked his bag to make sure everything was in there, got dressed, threw the scarf around his neck and left the bathroom to meet the rest of the team at breakfast.

Josiah was nearly finished with his breakfast when he saw Noah come in, looking a bit paler than usual but determined. The other boy didn't see him yet, but he smiled anyway.

Rising, he brushed the crumbs off of his front and made his way over to the Gryffindor people, where everyone was donned in gold and scarlet and chattering excitedly. He touched Noah gently on the shoulder with his fingertips and leaned down to get a good angle at his ear.

"Good luck," he said, grinning. "You'll be great." He fumbled for his wand momentarily, finally getting a good grip on it and sending red and gold sparks into the air like fireworks. They whizzed colorfully, and several people cheered before they fizzled away.

Noah rested a hand on Shawn's shoulder when he sat next to him. They'd been friends since their first year, and joined the Quidditch team at the same time, in their third year. "How's that sight today?" He asked, grinning. "We need your eyes!"

Then, he looked over at the Keeper and his still clean plate. "Hey, you know the drill. Eat something light."

He served himself of a generous dose of eggs and bacon. The others needed to be fast; Beaters, on the other hand, needed to be strong. Students passed by them, stopping briefly to cheer, except for the Slytherins, but he barely heard them.

He did turn around when a hand touched his shoulder. His grin came immediately; the fireworks made him chuckle. "Thanks! I'm excited!"

Josiah smiled, looking around at the rest of the team, who did not look quite as happy to see him as Noah did. He was happy for them anyway, and he took a small step back, adjusting his button again.

"I'm going to go down to the pitch early; I want good seats!" He informed Noah before slipping out of the Great Hall and heading down to the Quidditch stadium.

Noah couldn't remember those last few minutes before the game. He remembered the moment just before they entered the field to be noisily greeted by the crowd; remembered his teammates around him, the nerves making the air heavy and tense; remembered shaking the hand of Slytherin's captain, snorting dismissively at his weak provocation.

He didn't remember what he'd told them then, barely remembered getting on his new Nimbus 1000 he'd bought last summer with his savings and a little help from his mother. He didn't forget the investment she'd made on his dream, and he wasn't about to let her down. But, uninvited, a different thought kept sneaking to the front of his mind. There was someone else he wanted to impress today.

The whistle was blown. The players left the ground. The cheering of the crowd disappeared. Everything disappeared to Noah, except the nasty Bludgers and the green and silver shadows flying by.

He flew close to the Keeper for the first few minutes, sending the other Beater to help the Chasers; Shawn was quick and agile, he could take care of himself for now. He wanted to make sure their Keeper wouldn't panic, but the boy had had a good start. He shouted an incentive and started flying further away.

The game was very close, and the Seekers had taken off chasing something for a couple times already. Noah started flying closer to Shawn; his shoulder was starting to feel sore from hitting the Bludgers; this game had to be over soon.

The crowd grew louder. He looked over his shoulder. The Keeper had let in two goals in a row. Slytherin was ahead with 130 to 100.

"Come on, Shawn! Finish this!" he shouted upwards. Shawn looked down at him, but whatever he was going to say was left unsaid. He saw his gaze sharpen and tensed in response. A fraction of a second later, Shawn was speeding down towards him. Noah had just enough time to push his broomstick out of the way.

He turned swiftly after Shawn flew by, to make sure he'd have a clear path. The Slytherin Seeker had seen the Snitch too, since he was flying at full speed. There was no Bludger close by, but Noah flew better than any Slytherin, any day.

He sped straight to the Slytherin Seeker. He gave him a lopsided grin as he saw the other boy's eyes widening. He turned in the last possible moment to avoid making a foul, but he'd made him hesitate long enough to buy Shawn a couple of seconds.

Shawn made a sudden turn to the left. The Snitch was now a lot closer to the Slytherin Seeker. "Damn!" His fingers tightened around the club. He sped forward; found what he needed. A Bludger was coming towards his head. He pulled his arm back, turned his Nimbus a few inches and glanced at the Seekers, trying to predict their movements.

The impact of his club on the Bludger made his whole arm vibrate, but he put all his fury, all his strength and determination into it.

The Bludger missed the Slytherin Seeker by a couple inches, but he nearly fell off his broomstick trying to avoid it. Shawn made the final dive, hand reaching out and closing around something.

A second later, he pulled his broomstick up and waved his arm wildly, showing off the golden Snitch.

Josiah had never lost control during a Quidditch game like he did that day. He jumped at every close call, tensed excitedly with every save, cheered loudly (well, for him!) at every goal. It was like Quidditch was a totally different sport from the one he had watched last year, and all because….

At the thought of Noah, Jo realized that he would be heading to the locker room now. It would be crowded with Gryffindors if he didn't hurry, and he wouldn't be able to congratulate him properly on his win.

Pushing through the crowd with slightly more force than he felt was polite, he rushed down the steps and onto the field, then around the back of the stadium to the outside of the Gryffindor locker room.

The small crowd dressed in gold and scarlet got to the locker room before the team. When the seven of them approached, they were immediately submerged by students. There were cheers and pats on the back and even the occasional attempt at a kiss. Without him knowing exactly how, a bottle of firewhiskey was pushed into Noah's hands, but he only had time for a quick sip before Shawn snatched it away.

Shawn seemed delighted with all the attention. Noah joined the celebration, but couldn't help feel a twinge of disappointment. Someone was missing. After a little while, he raised his hand and said, loud and clear, "Hey, why don't you all go ahead to the Gryffindor's common room? The party will be there, we'll join you in a bit!"

He took his time in the shower, delaying the moment he would have to come out again, savouring that delicious moment by himself. They'd won. They'd actually won! Dizzy with excitement, a huge grin still stuck on his face, he got off the shower. The others were mostly ready.

"I'll meet you guys there!" He said. "Go celebrate, you deserve it!"

Josiah watched the crowd of Gryffindors come and go, squinting into the uniformed players to see if Noah was among them. He wasn't. After the frenzy had died down a bit, he decided it was safe to poke his head into the locker room for the first time.

He loosened his scarf and folded it neatly, pushing it into one of the many inside pockets of his robes. It was muggy in the locker room, and smelled of sweat, which Jo hadn't expected to be so… enticing. He stepped cautiously around the corner, where he was able to see the showers, and that's when he saw Noah naked.

Well, no, not completely naked – but mostly naked, for what it was worth, and under the towel, definitely, almost certainly naked. Josiah jerked his head away and looked up at the ceiling, flushing a deep scarlet that had nothing to do with Gryffindor pride or the heat. Flushing in places that would have been really awkward if he hadn't had his robe on….

"Um, congratulations," he murmured in a small voice which seemed to almost disappear in the cloud of steam.

Noah had been distracted replaying the match in his mind when that voice – it made his heart leap awkwardly – interrupted his thoughts. He looked up.

"Jo! Did you see it?! We won! I can't believe I won my first match as Captain!" He was so ridiculously happy, he started moving towards Josiah, stopping himself after a couple of steps, when he remembered he wasn't exactly decent. His hand reached for his towel automatically, as if to make sure it was still in place.

Jo was looking pointedly at the ceiling, looking very embarrassed – looking so tempting. Noah felt a sudden urge to reach out and touch him, so intense his breath caught. His breathing quickened, the adrenalin of the game still running through his veins, though it was turning into a different kind of rush; a different kind of heat. Confused, he hesitated.

"I saw," Jo confirmed, grinning widely, slowly lowering his gaze to Noah's again. He was still only in the towel… his face flushed horribly again, but he couldn't bring himself to look away. Those muscles… firm, but fleshy, strong and also comforting. There was a flash in his mind, almost as vivid as real life, of those muscles on top of him….

"Um," he said awkwardly, in an attempt to interrupt his own thoughts. "So, yeah, I… I'm really proud of you." He pulled his robe away from his body slightly, trying to escape the now nearly-suffocating heat. His grin had faded into a shy smile.

Noah was a pretty single-minded person. He couldn't help it, there was only one thought in his mind now, a thought that had slipped into the back of his mind for some time whenever he lowered his guard. He tried to, but he couldn't shake it off. And Jo was right here in front of him. Alone.

His legs moved before he made a conscious decision. He couldn't hide his reaction anymore than he could stop himself. He leaned over and covered Jo's lips with his, pulling him into a fierce kiss, his whole body burning with a hunger he'd never felt before for anyone.

Jo had about three seconds to prepare for the kiss that was coming, and he attempted to be as receptive as he could possibly be while also being incredibly shocked – in the good way. He put one hand behind Noah's head, on the nape of his neck, savoring the feel of the flesh there. More importantly, however, his other hand cautiously drifted down… tracing the muscles of his chest, the bristly hair at his pelvis… and released the loose fold on the towel. It fell to the floor.

"Are you sure?" He whispered up at Noah. This was merely a formality, a precaution. Heart insurance.

Noah could barely remember how to form words. "Yeah… No… Yes," he pushed Jo against the lockers. "Yes."

-/-/-

Sabrina clutched the small, ornately wrapped package, walking at her usual slow pace into the common room. She saw no one, save a couple of first years and… Daniella Hawke. Her heart gave a jump that perhaps might have been anger, if she had not stifled it for so many years. She walked over to the girl and stood pointedly, her face expressionless.

"Have you seen Ezra?" She asked, not feeling the need to elaborate further.

Daniella looked up from her parchment slowly, glancing around to make sure the question had been directed at her. Since when did Sabrina bother to speak to her?

She was trying to finish all the homework she'd been avoiding for the past week, she had little patience for someone as annoying as Sabrina.

Putting down her quill, Daniella sighed loudly, then said, "Let me see…" she looked around, searched her pockets with exaggerated care, then peeked under the desk. When she looked up at Sabrina, she gave the girl a mocking shrug and a wicked grin. "Sorry, I didn't keep him. I'm surprised you let him out of your sight long enough to actually lose him."

Sabrina gave the other girl a long, hard stare. The only clue that her patience was being tested was a small twitch at the corner of her mouth.

"Very well," she replied flatly, before turning to stalk out of the common room and into the hallway. At this gesture, Ezra peeked his head out from behind a large, black suit of armor which he had been hiding behind. He stepped out from behind it and straightened his vest as though this were perfectly normal behavior.

Daniella's gaze followed Sabrina with the same amount of disbelief she'd always felt towards the girl. How was it possible to be that… empty? She made a face and a shoosh motion at the girl's back and picked up her quill again, trying to focus once more.

Just then, Ezra showed up from behind the armor. Daniella snorted out a laugh. "You know, you shouldn't keep her looking for you for very long," her voice was full of sarcasm as she looked back down at her homework. "The girl seemed devastated by your absence."

Ezra raised both of his eyebrows and gave Dan a wry smirk, lowering himself into an armchair nearby.

"I'll be forgiven," he drawled. Not wanting to dwell too long on the circumstances, he looked out over the green-black lake through the windows, through which the sun was visible.

Daniella's smirk was still sarcastic. "Oh, I'm sure you will."

She looked back down at her Herbology homework when he fell silent, although she kept glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. He was quiet, ever since… She hadn't been sure what to expect of him after they parted like that in Hogsmeade. She'd thought he might be angry, might simply not want to talk to her anymore. She was surprised when he didn't try to force the situation further, and now she was wondering if he'd just distance himself from her. But then again, he couldn't, right? He was supposed to know where she was and what she was doing at all times. His interest in her was of a different nature.

It shouldn't affect her. She'd told herself it didn't, but she was lying to herself. As much as she despised his beliefs and the way he treated other people, she couldn't escape that strange pull she felt towards him.

She stared at the parchment, not really seeing the words anymore. It was useless. Her concentration was gone. "Why was she after you, anyway?" She asked as she tossed her things back into her bag.

"I don't suppose she needs a special occasion," Ezra murmured, glossing over the fact that it truly was one. Eighteen already, and how the time was flying...

He had instructed Pokey to take all of his luxurious gifts and put them into his room at home so that they wouldn't clutter up his bed space. She had immediately obliged, being the understanding being that she was... sometimes he wondered if even his own mother understood him so well. It was silly, naturally. Of course she didn't.

He looked over at Daniella, studying her face. She looked so similar to her brother and yet so different. When Logan's eyes rested on him, he felt the weight of the prejudice inside. Even after all those years as friends, he, too, became a pawn in the end.

"Would you like to accompany me on a walk?"

Daniella stopped, surprised. She should make an excuse. She looked at him. "Why not? What could possibly be wrong with skipping homework for a few more hours? Let me just get my shoes."

Cursing herself for being so weak, she made her way up to her dorm, to get ready. She brushed her long hair, then wrapped the scarf with the green and silver colors of Slytherin loosely around her neck. She might not like the house and what it represented that much, but she did look good in green. After one last long look at the mirror, she went back to the common room.

"Where are we going?" She asked when she stopped in front of Ezra, waiting.

Ezra looked over Dan once more, this time from head to toe, and smiled a small, warm smile, mostly to himself. He had been planning to go alone, but somehow this development was not bothersome to him in the slightest.

"I was on my way to the lakehouse," he informed her, holding the door open so she might step through. "It is one of my favorite places in which to think."

Daniella walked out, feeling just a little warmer all over. She wasn't particularly vain, but she was definitely not immune to the rush of catching a handsome guy's attention.

"The lakehouse?" She didn't think she'd been there more than one or two times in all her time in Hogwarts. "Sounds lovely," she said, starting up the stairs with him, away from the dungeons. "The perfect place to read good poetry."

The wind was a little crisper than he had expected, and Ezra wished momentarily that he had brought his scarf, too. No matter, though; just as well that he should be slightly uncomfortable on the arguably most celebrated day of his life.

"You've been reading them, then?" He asked, trying not to sound as flattered as he was. They approached the small, glass-walled building, and he unlatched the door with a long squeak. It had grown even colder inside, and his breath made a cloud of steam before him. He withdrew his wand, procuring a small blue flame from the end of it, which he suspended near a worn-out looking bench. Waves of warmth rolled outward to meet them.

Daniella settled in the bench, reaching out to warm her hands near the flames, before answering. "Yes, I have. I've finished it, actually."

They could see the lake all the way to the other margin through the large window. It really was a nice place, although it was probably nicer in the spring. "You have good taste." She turned her head just enough to look at him. "Both in books and places to think."

"And have you decided on a favorite?" Ezra inquired, looking over at her with his deep, pensive brown eyes. The cold had tinged his pale cheeks a light pink. He held his wand loosely in his right hand, elbows resting on separated knees, looking out over the water.

"Careful, you make it sound as though you're enjoying my company," he murmured amusedly.

Daniella gazed at the fire, moving her fingers a little closer, until the heat made her retreat. She kept telling herself she was doing this to gather information and make sure Jo and his family would be alright, but she was fooling herself. She wanted to be near him. She wanted to make him step out of his shell, wanted to…"

She braced her hands on the bench at her sides at his words. "I think I'm doomed, then," she murmured, mostly to herself.

"A few of them, actually…" She said after a while, deciding it was probably safer to focus on the safer subject. She only remembered one of the poems accurately enough, though. She kept her gaze on fire.

"No doubt the ordered worlds speed on
With purpose in their wings;
No doubt the ordered songs are sweet
Each worthy angel sings;

And doubtless it is wise to heed
The ordered words of Kings;
But how the heart leaps up to greet
The headlong, rebel flight,

Whenas some reckless meteor
Blazes across the night!
Some comet—Byron—Lucifer—
Has dared to Be, and fight!

No doubt but it is safe to dwell
Where ordered duties are;
No doubt the cherubs earn their wage
Who wind each ticking star;

No doubt the system is quite right!—
Sane, ordered, regular;
But how the rebel fires the soul
Who dares the strong gods' ire!

Each Byron!—Shelley!—Lucifer!—
And all the outcast choir
That chant when some Prometheus
Leaps up to steal Jove's fire!"

Ezra sat, mesmerized; he had never imagined he would hear a recitation quite so bold or, frankly, so incredibly attractive to his every sense.

"Yes, I can see why you like it," he told her, his voice husky and low. He cleared his throat. Her brother wouldn't have. In fact, he scolded himself, this is exactly the sort of thing that he had been appointed to keep her from doing. But he knew that his heart was already captured, and in any case, he questioned the sanity of whoever had led Logan to believe that Ezra was controllable, predictable, or even trustworthy. Yes, he was indeed a Slytherin, born to do that which was to his benefit….

"Have you heard from your brother recently?" He asked, blatantly nonchalant.

Daniella's mind had wandered as she recited that poem, like it had when she'd first read it, but Ezra's question snapped her out of her memories. Her expression hardened. "He sends me letters almost every week."

She loved her brother. She'd worshipped him when she was little. And all he had done ever since was disappointing her.

"I haven't bothered to reply." She cleared her throat, cleared the unhappy tone of her voice and tried to smile playfully - not very successfully. "It's no fun arguing through letters."

Ezra studied her expression, finding himself still enthralled by it even when it was sour. But her words were what resonated to him the most, because they were disappointed and defensive, and those were feelings that he, too, associated with letters from home… for entirely different reasons.

"I see," was all he could say in the time he had to think. "No, it isn't any fun."

He searched his own thoughts and found no suitable way out, so he did the next best thing.

"Pokey," he said into thin air, and there was a sharp crack where the house elf appeared. He smiled warmly at her, and she curtsied, as per their routine. "Pokey, would you please bring Mistress Daniella and I some cake?"

"Of course, Master Ezra! Yes, of course! It is, after all, Master Ezra's special day! The kitchen servants have been very busy on your behalf, sir! I will bring a slice of every flavor."

Daniella searched Ezra's eyes. He was suddenly avoiding the subject he'd brought up. If she was ever going to confront him, she wouldn't get a much better opportunity than this. Bring it all out into the light. End the game. Still, something stopped her. She really was doomed.

The loud crack would've startled her if she hadn't met the house-elf before. What made her eyebrows rise was witnessing the exchange between the two. It had been obvious the elf loved her Master, but she hadn't realized… couldn't have guessed Ezra would be so… different. The kind of man she wanted to see more often.

"Special day?" She asked abruptly, eyes narrowing towards Ezra suspiciously. She looked back at Pokey. "What do you mean, Pokey?"

"Don't answer that, Pokey," Ezra said dryly, although he was smiling. Pokey gave a nervous half-giggle as she looked between them. The small elf bowed twice, once to each of them, and cracked away again, leaving them alone. She was back in less than two minutes, magically suspending a large plate of cake slices, pastries, and petits fours, as well as two large pitchers of punch and frothy butterbeer. Ezra inclined his head, and Pokey grinned.

"Thanks, Pokey," he said softly, grabbing a petit four off of the tray. "Have something for yourself, too, when you get back. Don't let mum work you too hard; tell her I said it's an order." Pokey's eyes watered considerably, and she bowed once more.

"You are always kind to Pokey, Master Ezra," she said with a wibble. "Master Ezra has always been a very good boy." With that, she disappeared for the last time. There was silence for a moment.

"Please, do help yourself."

By the time Pokey disappeared, Daniella was biting her lower lip not to laugh. She cleared her throat twice before being able to look up at him again. "Have you?" She asked in a strangled voice. "Always been a good boy, I mean? It's hard to imagine."

She examined the contents of the tray, picked a pastry and took a small bite. It was delicious. She'd asked the question out of surprise, but it was obvious what the special day was. "Happy birthday, Ezra."

"Were you under the impression that I was some kind of raucous terror?" Ezra asked, his mouth full of heavy sweet cream. He wiped the corner of his lips before giving her an amused look. "I've managed to hide all of my unsavory activities pretty well," he informed her. "Stealing away to the Muggle book shop, for example."

For the past 18 years of his life, those words had filled him with dread – Happy Birthday, Ezra, here's to another year of you being our good little pawn – but when Daniella said them, they were different. She meant them, and he felt an unsuspecting wave of emotion creep up in his face. He held a prim hand to his chest, as though physically troubled, then swallowed it along with the remains of the dessert.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Dan chuckled. "Yeah, that makes a lot more sense," she nodded, then took a petit four from the tray. "Is it being happy so far?" She asked just as quietly.

Ezra poured himself a glass of punch, offering her a glass as well.

"It's pomegranate," he informed her, swishing the sparkling punch around in the glass before sipping some. "Pokey makes it herself; she goes to India and harvests them personally because she knows it's my favorite." He felt another surge of appreciation for the small house elf.

"Yes," he told her, smiling. "Much to my surprise, mind you. Usually they're a nightmare."

Daniella accepted the glass and offered a teasing smile. "Yes, I can imagine… having all this delicious stuff to eat and drink around you must be a real torture." The smile didn't last long, though. She knew he wasn't talking about the food.

The words of the poem floated back to the front of her mind. No doubt the system is quite right!—/ Sane, ordered, regular. And crippling, she added to herself, looking at his troubled smile.

She didn't know what she could say, but after a long silence, she smiled brightly. "You know, Jo once told me about a Muggle birthday tradition." She wasn't sure if she was just trying to lighten his mood, or challenging him to step outside of his precious chokehold strict traditions. She picked up her wand, took one of the smallest spoons on the tray and transfigured it into a candle. Then, she poked it into one of the slices of cake and lit it.

Picking up the cake slice carefully with a napkin, she held it in front of him. "Blow it and make a wish."

Ezra huffed out a half-amused noise that was more of a puff of air than a snort, looking to the side momentarily. He drained the glass of punch, relishing its taste.

He raised his eyebrow as she stuck the spoon-candle into the slice of cake and lit it on fire. He gazed at the small, flickering flame so long that it made him squint his eyes.

"Am I supposed to make the wish before or after I extinguish the candle you have just lighted?" He asked curiously, the corner of his lip twitching a bit.

Daniella sighed patiently, pulling her hands back a little, before he thought to drench the cake or something. "You don't… extinguish it." She said, mimicking his cultured voice. "Just… think of a wish – you can't say it out loud, I think that's important – and then blow the candle, so it becomes truth."

She grinned brightly at him, wiggling the cake a little in front of him, tempting him. "Come on, humour me."

Ezra looked politely skeptical, but rolled his eyes to the ceiling in obvious thought. He took one, deep breath, then turned back to the candle and blew on it with a dull 'pfoof'. A barrage of smoke rose from it, and he pulled his face back with a small cough.

He pursed his lips, although happily, and gave her a sarcastic look.

"I don't think much of this Muggle magic, to be quite honest. Highly unreliable."

Daniella chuckled, satisfied. "Well, they have a…" she paused, thoughtful, "quite romantic vision of magic."

She busied herself taking the candle off of the cake, and offered him the slice, before taking one for herself. "Maybe even a happier vision than we do, sometimes, because it's out of their reach," she mused quietly.

"Quite," Ezra murmured in agreement, taking a large bite of the cake. He swallowed, pondered, and then clenched his jaw. He could not keep up this charade, this dishonesty, in every arena of his life… every time he was close to becoming happy….

"Your brother is having people spy on you," he said quietly, almost hoping that she would not hear him. "To make sure you did not associate with that mu-… Muggleborn."

Daniella tensed at his words, her eyes fixed on her half-eaten slice of cake. She didn't answer for a long time. Did he suspect she'd changed his memories? A sense of dread filled her. She had practiced in her mind how to confront him, but she'd never thought he'd just say it like that… and what would come out of this conversation.

She swallowed, trying to decide what to do. Just because he'd admitted it, it didn't mean he wouldn't tell Logan what was happening. And she had to think of Jo's family. She was responsible for their safety in that matter.

"Are you one of those people?" She asked quietly, still not looking at him. Her heart was hammering against her ribs and she wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer to her next question. "Is that why I'm here with you?"

"I was," Ezra admitted. "From the moment I approached you on the train, I had every intention… I never thought that I…" His eyes were half-lidded, and he turned to look at her.

"I invited you here because it is my decision," he told her. "Because I consider you… my friend."

Daniella took a long, deep breath before looking at him. "I know," she said, at last. She couldn't be entirely honest without talking to Jo first. "Or, well, I suspected. Jo would never stop talking to me, or send me away for no reason. Logan underestimated our friendship. It was his first mistake."

She searched his eyes, deep, dark and full of shadows. She wasn't sure what was happening between them, but she didn't want to keep lying to him when he'd decided to be honest. She wasn't sure she could tell him the truth, though. She wasn't sure she could trust him.

Ezra picked at his cake, putting another forkful into his mouth. No use in wasting Pokey's effort.

"If you no longer wish to speak to me, I will understand," he murmured. "Although if you could stand to wait until after my birthday was over, I would appreciate it."

Daniella's smile was regretful. "Neither of us is innocent in this story, Ezra." His request made her hesitate. If she told him now, he wouldn't want to talk to her ever again. "I don't think I could do that, if I tried," she admitted grudgingly. "Your birthday is safe with me."

Her admission made Ezra happier than it probably should have, but it was his birthday, after all. He was allowed to grin at least once, take pride in himself, and sip a little more pomegranate punch.

"I don't suppose there's any need to attend dinner, as I've long past ruined mine," he drawled, with a half-guilty look. He looked over at her, and for the first time in a long time, he felt butterflies in his stomach. "Will you be going home for the Christmas holidays?"

His whole expression lit up when he smiled like that. Daniella made it her secret mission to see it more often.

She put the used napkin down on the tray, wrapping it careful as to not make a mess. "I'm definitely skipping dinner," she said, eyeing the remaining pastries accusingly. "Or I'll roll around before Christmas."

She shrugged at his question. "I don't know yet," she admitted. Her mother kept asking her to go, and if Daniella was hesitating, it was because of her. But she didn't think she could stand two weeks at home with everything that had happened. "It's… easier, being here. I can do whatever I want."

"Oh," Ezra murmured, fixing his eyes on the lake once again. He had been planning to invite her over to the Greengrass mansion for a while… "Yes, that makes sense." He gave her a wry smile, falling once again into silence.

"I don't have much of a choice, I suppose." He had never stayed at the castle for Christmas in all of his 7 years attending; he could imagine that his parents would be mortified. "I'll have Pauline bring you a letter."

"Oh, you don't?" Daniella asked, just a hint of a challenging tone. "There are plenty of places to hide here, you know? It is a big castle… with a lot of armors." Her grin was mischievous.

"You underestimate my parents' determination to find me," Ezra said dryly. "I expect the whole of Wizarding Europe isn't large enough."

"I understand," Daniella gave a solemn nod at his words. She raised her nearly empty glass in a cheer, then emptied it. The sun was setting and the house was getting dark and much colder. "The 'special day' is almost over. Any last wishes before we go back to reality and homework?"

Ezra looked over at her, then took one last look at the setting sun glittering over the lake. If every birthday had been like this – full of conversation, laughter, friendship – would he be the person he was today? He supposed it was pointless to ponder something so stupid.

"This 'wishing' nonsense is very hit-or-miss," he replied. "I would prefer to take initiative." With that, he leaned over towards her, his face lingering very close to hers, and pressed his lips gently to hers for only a few moments.

He extinguished the blue flame that had been burning steadily since their arrival, and the heat began to slowly subside. Smiling to himself in the growing darkness, he stood and offered Daniella his hand.