Chapter Nine: The Dam
I: Office Dynamics
The calendar on Tabitha James' desk read October the thirty-first.
It sat there in front of her cheekily, taunting her. She couldn't look up without the solid black letters glaring at her, laughing at her, reminding her that time waited for no one, not even Tabitha James. Combined with the stack of documents and piles of notebooks that surrounded her, it reminded her that the clock was ticking on, and she had made no progress.
It had been three weeks since London, and they had no leads. It had been even longer since the kidnappings, and they had no leads, for none had panned out.
It was Hallowe'en and yet there were still a smattering of people around the Auror office. Their job was unique in that they had no set hours - sure, the Ministry told them that they had to be in the office on certain days for a certain number of hours, but life as an Auror could not be constrained to a schedule. It required a degree of flexibility, for it was impossible to predict when their services would be needed. They couldn't just not apprehend a criminal because it was a holiday.
Still, there weren't enough Aurors present. The office might be full when compared to, say, the Department of Registration, but it was nothing in comparison to how it had looked after London, when every single Auror in the country had been recalled, pulled away from their work and put on the case. The entire team except Robards had been under Tabitha's command, and she had directed them as needed. But as time waned on, she began to lose people to different cases and projects until she was left with only a few select others, and finally, until she was left with only Munroe.
It wasn't that the case wasn't still considered important - Robards frequently told her that it was the most vital one they had - but there were simply not enough Aurors to go around. They had the entirety of wizarding Britain to protect, and not enough resources to do it. She was simply unable to monopolize the time and attention of her colleagues when they had their own cases to attend to.
In their defense, it wasn't as if they weren't enthusiastic about helping. Harry Potter, for instance, had protested being taken off the kidnappings, telling Robards that he would work on it alongside his own projects. Robards had refused. Potter was better out on the streets than he was in the office; his wandwork was "alright", but his research skills were weak. Tabitha agreed that his investigative skills were somewhat lacking (most modern magical histories that she'd read agreed that it was Hermione Granger who had really been the brains of the trio that had taken down He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, even if it was Potter who got all the credit), but he more than made up for it with his abilities in battle. She'd seen him in action and he was something, that was for sure; possibly the best fighter in the office. He had a great ability to think on his feet. Though she wouldn't admit it, she was somewhat envious.
It wasn't as if his prowess did him any good, though. He might not make it known, but Robards had a low opinion of the famous Harry Potter - he'd frequently expressed his disdain for "that poster boy" to Tabitha, and it was clear to anyone who made it a point of observing the dynamics of the Auror office that Potter's potential was somewhat underused. It wasn't as if he wasn't given significant cases, but Tabitha was of the opinion that they were perhaps too simple for him. It was obvious to her that Robards felt threatened by Potter, who was admired by most of the department for his heroics and humbleness, despite his fame.
She wasn't about to actually tell either Potter or Robards this, though. She was firmly against fluffing up anyone's ego, and she needed to stay on Robards' good side, or else be subjected to the same fate as Potter.
Sighing, she checked her watch. It was time for her daily report to Robards. Gathering up her materials, including the timeline that she had spent the last few days meticulously putting together in order to refamiliarise herself with events (a process she often did to ensure that she hadn't missed anything), she got up from her desk and walked over to Robards' office. On her way, she passed Potter's desk. He looked up at her and smiled.
"How's it going, Tabitha?"
"Dreadfully," she replied shortly.
He frowned. "I'm sorry to hear that. Still no leads?"
"Nope."
He paused, delicately, and Tabitha was about to move on when he said, "When was the last time you took a holiday?"
"Excuse me?"
"Holiday."
She scoffed loudly. "You've got to be kidding me, Potter."
"I'm not. You should take the night off. Relax a bit. It might help you get a fresh perspective on things."
She rolled her eyes. "I don't need the night off." I don't have anywhere to go.
"It's Hallowe'en. Come home and have dinner with Ginny and me and the kids."
"Thank you, but -"
"I'm not taking no for an answer," he said firmly.
"You're not my boss."
"No, but I saved your sorry arse on that mission with the werewolves."
She cringed. "Fine."
"Good. See you at eight, James."
.oOo.
II. Repetition
Riley Carrow had always loved Hallowe'en.
It was perhaps the single most important holiday for her family, who shunned Christmas as belonging more to the muggles than it did to wizardkind. Hallowe'en, on the other hand, would always be inherently magical, inherently theirs. The muggles took it and celebrated it - she'd seen the children in intricate costumes roaming the streets of London with their parents, the teenagers using it as an excuse to wear skimpy outfits and skulk in the shadows until well past their bedtimes - but they would never own it. Their Hallowe'en would always be a pitiful attempt at imitation; it would never be the real thing. That belonged to wizardkind, and wizardkind alone.
The Hallowe'en feast at Hogwarts was her favourite school event of the year. It wasn't the food - the Carrow's house elves were more than capable of dishing up similar, if not occasionally better, fare. But there was something about gathering around a table on a shared occasion of celebration that made Riley's insides glow. Her fellow Slytherins felt the same way as she did about Hallowe'en, except some of the muggleborns who had yet to truly understand the importance of the festival to wizardkind, and their shared love brought them closer.
Victoire, at the Gryffindor table, made a point of sitting right behind Riley so that at any point during the feast, the two girls could turn around and chat. Riley wished that Victoire could come and sit at the Slytherin table with her - she got along well with Hestia Witherspoon and Iris Fawley - but unfortunately, it would be against the rules, which dictated that one must remain at their house table for the duration of the feast, and the teachers always seemed particularly observant on special occasions.
They caught up after the feast, walking back to their respective common rooms together. Victoire rubbed her swollen stomach and let out a long, dramatic groan. "I am stuffed."
"You did eat six servings of dessert," Riley pointed out, laughing.
Victoire shrugged. "Of course I did. What's the point of a feast if not to eat multiple servings of dessert? What's the point of a Hallowe'en feast if not to eat multiple slices of pumpkin pie with extra cinnamon cream?"
"They serve pumpkin pie at other points in the year."
"Not with extra cinnamon cream they don't."
"Okay," Riley laughed, holding her hands up in defeat. "You're something of a glutton, you know that?"
"My only flaw," Victoire grinned.
Riley raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Whatever happened to your ineptitude at Divination? Or have you developed an Inner Eye overnight?'
Victoire hit her lightly on the arm. "Shut up."
They reached the end of the corridor and bid goodnight to each other, Victoire turning to the left on her way to the Gryffindor common room, and Riley towards the right and the Slytherin dungeon. She was the only person in the corridor - they had been among the last to leave the feast thanks to Victoire's great yearning for pumpkin pie.
As she walked along the candlelit hallway, she felt much calmer than she had in a very long time. For the first time since the year had begun, the kidnappings and the dark marks did not weigh on her mind. They were still there, of course, for it was impossible to entirely forget them, but they were shoved in a crevice at the very back of the brain rather than existing in the forefront. She didn't feel constrained by them, she didn't feel labeled. She felt not like a Carrow, or a pureblood, but like an ordinary girl with no family history of any significance.
How sad it was that her bliss only lasted for a few minutes.
It took her a moment to realize that she was not alone any longer. A tingle ran up her spine and she could not shake the feeling that she was being watched. At first, she told herself that she was merely being paranoid, but the light, warm feeling in her stomach was gone, replaced by a deep-seated worry. Swallowing, she glanced over her shoulder.
The corridor appeared empty. Letting out a sigh, she turned to face forward again when suddenly -
"LEVICORPUS!" A loud voice rang out across the corridor, and Riley let out a small shriek as she felt her centre of gravity disappear. Her legs swung above her head, and her body jerked downwards as she was pulled up into the air, hanging from the ceiling by an ankle. Her robes fell towards the ground, revealing her slim black trousers and white T-shirt. It took a moment for her eyes to readjust to the upending of her visual field, and she felt slightly dizzy, but she noticed two male figures, both dressed in black robes approaching her. One was wearing a blue tie, the other a red. The Gryffindor was holding out a wand pointed straight at her. Both were laughing.
As they came closer, she was able to discern their facial features. The Gryffindor was Cyrus Teller, a sixth-year muggleborn who was voraciously outspoken about muggle rights. The Ravenclaw was Peter someone - she didn't know his last name, but he had tutored Iris Fawley in Herbology, and Iris had gone on about how nice he was. He didn't look particularly nice right now.
"Let me down!" Riley shouted, kicking. "What's wrong with you?"
This made Cyrus Teller laugh. "What's wrong with me? Carrow, what's wrong with you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why are you still here?"
"I'm a witch, Teller."
"You know my name, do you?"
"Yes."
"Then you probably also know that I'm a muggleborn." He tutted. "You must hate me, Carrow."
"I don't now, but I can't promise to like you if you keep me hanging in the air like this."
"You hate all of my kind, don't you?" Cyrus continued, as if Riley hadn't spoken. She was getting desperate now; she had realised the direction that this was going in, and she did not like it at all. "That's why you're still here - you want to learn how to destroy us, just like your death eater aunt and uncle tried to fifteen years ago."
"You're the same kind as I am," Riley protested. "We're both wizards! We're both the same."
"No, we're not!" Teller exclaimed. "And you'd say that, wouldn't you? No one's keen to spout pureblood mania when their life is threatened."
"You're a pureblood brat who thinks that she's better than everyone else," Peter chipped in. "You're probably in league with the people who kidnapped Melissa Cooper and Leslie Stiles. For all we know, you know where they are!"
"I don't!" Riley exclaimed desperately. "I don't!"
"You're lying!" Teller shouted. "I live in central London, brat. My door was one of the ones your people marked. You threatened me, and now you're going to pay."
"I didn't!" Riley could feel her mouth going very dry. "I didn't! I don't know who was behind London, I don't know who kidnapped the girls, I don't know where they are. I just want this whole thing to be over. Please just let me down!"
"So you can go running to McGonagall? I think not." He was coming closer, his wand still pointed squarely between her eyes. She was starting to get dizzy: the blood was rushing to her head and the bile was rising in her stomach.
"I won't," she begged. "I swear I won't. Please let me go. Please."
"You," Teller said, crouching down so that his breath, tainted with Firewhiskey, tickled Riley's nose, "are the worthless child of two even more worthless parents. Your family may profess that muggleborns are stains on wizardkind, but they're too blind to see that they're the real stains. If anyone deserves to be kidnapped, Riley Carrow, it's you and your maniac family."
Riley Carrow was many things. Hot-headed was one of them, sensible was not.
She spat in Cyrus Teller's face.
His eyes flashed violently as he wiped the spittle from where it had splattered across his cheeks, yet Riley could not find it in herself to regret her actions. He deserved it, she thought, but all the same, her stomach flipped anxiously as he gritted his teeth. Peter, too, was now pointing his wand squarely between her eyes.
"You're going to wish you'd never done that, Carrow," he growled.
"Am I?"
He moved his arm back in preparation for what she could only assume was to be a jinx or a curse of some sort. She closed her eyes tightly and clenched her hands into fists, her nails digging into her palm, preparing for the worst. And yet nothing ever came.
"Put that wand down immediately."
Both Peter and Teller dropped their wands immediately. Riley's eyes focused on a tall, imposing figure in green robes standing a little way away. Professor McGonagall. A dark-haired man rounded the corner, his wand out and pointing at the two boys. Professor Smith.
Riley let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. She had been saved.
Smith jerked his wand towards her and muttered something under his breath. She felt her legs swing back down below her head, and her centre of gravity readjusted. She fell to the ground, breaking her fall with her hands. She tried to get up immediately, but her legs were shaky and would not hold her weight.
Professor McGonagall was angrier than Riley had ever seen her. The lines on her forehead had deepened exponentially, forming valleys across her face, and her right hand, only a few centimeters away from her wand pocket, was shaking slightly. "My office," she told the boys, who no longer looked malicious or brave, "now. Professor Smith, if you would stay with Miss Carrow and take her to the hospital wing -"
"Of course," Professor Smith said, hurrying to Riley's side.
"This isn't over," Cyrus Teller hissed under his breath.
McGonagall raised a single, judgmental eyebrow. "I'm afraid it most certainly is. Let's go."
The headmistress left, Teller and Peter trailing behind her. Riley felt an odd sort of glee at the sight of them walking, like two disgraced dogs who had disobeyed their master's rules. She was glad that someone was fair, that for once, a kind of justice would be served.
"Are you alright, Miss Carrow?" Professor Smith asked.
Riley, though weak, shaking and pale, nodded. "I'm fine. They didn't do anything to me except hang me up there. You and Professor McGonagall were just in time."
"I'm glad to hear that," he said, pausing. "I think we should still go to the Hospital Wing, just in case -"
"No," Riley said firmly. "No, I'm fine."
"But -"
"I said I was fine," she said, trying to sound staunch but not snappy. She didn't want to disrespect someone who might have just saved her life, after all. But the last thing she wanted was to go to the Hospital Wing - the matron was just the kind of worrywart who'd want to keep her overnight, and Riley had had quite enough for one night. All she wanted was to curl up, safe and sound in her own bed, and go to sleep.
Professor Smith hesitated. "Alright," he said at last. "But if you feel unwell at any point -"
"I'll come to you. Or Professor Klossy."
"Exactly."
"But right now, I want to go back to the common room."
"I can accompany you."
Riley gave him a funny look.
"I can assure you, Miss Carrow, I know where Slytherin dungeon is. I was a Slytherin myself at Hogwarts. And I would rather deliver you back to safety instead of leaving you to roam the corridors, where you might just run into some more...trouble."
This was enough to convince Riley. After all, Teller and Peter were not the only two people in Hogwarts who hated her for her blood status. At least she'd be safe with Smith around. "Alright, then."
They walked in silence for a while, neither sure of what to say. Riley had never been alone with Professor Smith before, nor had she interacted with him outside of Potions. She wasn't even a good Potioneer - she was alright, she supposed, she never blew up the cauldron or poisoned the test frog, but she wasn't particularly great. Even Slughorn, who had been incredibly fond of her, had always found something or the other wrong with her concoctions.
"What happened there, Miss Carrow?" Smith asked Riley at last. "Undoubtedly Professor McGonagall will obtain the sequence of events from the two boys, but I should like to hear your side of the story."
"I don't want to talk about it."
Over the years, Riley had become good at one thing: blocking out bad memories. She had been bullied countless times, accused of being nothing but a death eater baby who belonged in Azkaban. It was enough to break anyone, but Riley had learned to just forget it happened. She couldn't, she wouldn't let such incidents weigh on her mind. She shoved them right to the back of her consciousness, where they lay and festered, only to come back to her at night, in her dreams. She never spoke about them because to speak about them would be to acknowledge they had happened. To speak about them would be to reinforce the memories, to strengthen them to the point where they might never fade away like she hoped they would.
"Talking about it might do you some good."
"It won't."
Smith looked at her expectantly.
She sighed. "Look, I was just walking down the corridor, and they attacked me."
"Physically?"
"I was hanging from the ceiling when you found me," she retorted sarcastically, hiding the shot of anger that ran through her.
"Verbally, too?"
"The usual. Death eater brat."
"Why would they say that?"
"You do know my last name, don't you?"
"I see." Smith paused for a few moments, before saying, "I do not know either of the boys well enough to advance opinions on their motives. I only know a few...select characteristics and traits. And they suggest to me that perhaps they are jealous of you."
"Jealous?"
"Of the fact that your family...is established within this world. That you have an instantly recognizable last name, while they, on the other hand, are still attempting to find a place for themselves within the delicate fabric of wizarding society."
Riley stared at him. She had thought Smith intelligent, perceptive even, but he had just proven her wrong. To suggest that the boys attacked her because they were jealous that she was a pureblood...the very idea of it was absurd.
"You're wrong," she said. "They didn't attack me because they're jealous, they attacked me because they believe that I, as a pureblood, hate them."
"And is that true?"
"No!" Riley exclaimed, suddenly feeling very victimized.
Smith held up his hands in surrender. "I apologize, Miss Carrow, I have overstepped my boundaries. I in no way meant to suggest that you harbour prejudices of any sort."
"S'fine," Riley mumbled.
They reached the Slytherin common room before long. Smith turned to Riley outside the entrance and said, "I suppose you should be alright from here."
"I suppose I should."
"Professor McGonagall may wish to see you in the morning to obtain your side of events."
"You've already obtained my side of events."
"Nevertheless, she may wish to hear from you directly."
Riley shrugged. "Whatever." I'd rather just forget this whole thing happened.
There was an uncomfortable silence. She felt as if Smith was scrutinising her, searching for something - only she couldn't quite tell what. She stared at him, her green eyes unblinking.
"If something like this happens again," he said, "or if you ever wish to speak to me, my door is always open."
Riley nodded once. "Thank you, Professor."
"Good night, Miss Carrow. Sweet dreams."
Unlikely, Riley thought, as she turned away.
.oOo.
III. Love and Freindship*
The first Quidditch match of the season was traditionally played between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Hufflepuff played Ravenclaw two weeks later. This year, however, the order was reversed. The Gryffindor captain, Katherine Mansfield, had argued that they had waited too long to replace Leslie Stiles, believing that she would be found before the season began. Apparently, Katherine had even broken down sobbing in front of Professor McGonagall, saying that they hadn't wanted to choose another Seeker because it made it feel like Leslie was gone for good.
Whatever she had said, it had worked. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were to play one another first, and Macey Longstone was not happy about it, for it messed up her precious training schedule. Her only consolation came from the fact that her nemesis, Piers McKone, who captained the Ravenclaw team, was suffering just as much as she was.
The morning of the match, Teddy and Alfie were surprised not to find Ella at the breakfast table. She was a closet Hufflepuff supporter - she had been ever since Alfie made the team - and always made sure to spend the morning of a match with him. Alfie had a tendency of getting rather nervous, and both Teddy and Ella needed to be there to calm him down.
"Where is she?" Alfie wondered out loud as they sat down. "In the four years I've been on the team, she's never missed a before-match breakfast. Never. It's like a tradition." He paused briefly to help himself to a couple of boiled eggs. "You don't think she forgot, do you?"
"Of course not!" Teddy exclaimed. "She's probably just … late."
"When is Ella Anderson late?"
"Her alarm clock might have stopped working."
Alfie considered this. "Fair enough."
But as breakfast continued and Ella failed to appear, it became rather obvious that whatever was holding her up was more than a failed alarm clock (for as Alfie pointed out, alarm clock or not, Ella was always up and down by nine o'clock at the latest). It was only when Madhuri Lodi arrived in the Great Hall that they were able to enquire as to their best friend's location. The Indian witch informed them that Ella was, in fact, still in her dormitory.
"I can take you up if you want," she offered. "I don't think she'd mind seeing you."
"Is she alright?" Teddy asked.
"She's fine," Madhuri said. "Just a little quieter than normal. Keeps insisting that nothing's bothering her, but … "
"Something is?"
She nodded. "I think so."
Madhuri accompanied the boys to the Ravenclaw dormitory. Teddy, for one, was rather glad that she had offered, for he and Alfie had been stuck outside the door to the common room a countless number of times due to being unable to solve the riddle. It wasn't like he was thick or something (after all, he did get excellent grades), but the riddles were just so … confusing. It was as if they had no correct answer. To think that the Ravenclaws had to answer them every time they wanted to get into their own common room!
She left them at the door to Ella's dormitory. The door was slightly ajar, and Teddy could see Ella sitting on her bed, the covers drawn up over her, with her nose in a book. He knocked, and she looked up. Noticing Alfie and Teddy, she let out a small sigh, put down the book, and motioned for them to approach her. Teddy pushed open the door, and they walked in.
"Hey," she greeted them.
"Hey," Teddy said, perching on the end of her bed. Alfie followed suit. "You feeling okay?"
"Yes," she said, giving them a quizzical look. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Alfie stared at her, looking rather gobsmacked. Teddy, noticing this, decided to speak up before Alfie could say anything rash.
"The Hufflepuff Ravenclaw Quidditch match is this morning," he gently reminded her.
Ella's expression changed instantly: her eyes widened to unnatural proportions and she stared up at the boys with a mixture of shock and surprise. "I can't believe I forgot!" she exclaimed. "Oh goodness, Alfie, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to! I never forget." She looked almost disgusted with herself, and Teddy had to suppress a laugh. Only Ella would expect to have a flawless memory.
"It's fine," Alfie said, waving his hand dismissively. "Nobody's perfect, right?"
Ella sighed. "I can try, can't I? I'm really, really sorry - my brain's just … well, occupied."
"Occupied?"
Ella rolled her tongue around inside her mouth and bit her lip, breaking eye contact with the boys. Teddy and Alfie exchanged a glance. It was evident to the both of them that there was something up with Ella, something that she wasn't telling them. Teddy didn't like not knowing what was upsetting his friends, for it severely limited his ability to rectify the situation.
"Ella?" Teddy prompted.
The Ravenclaw let out a sigh and looked back up at her friends. "I told Leo I loved him."
Teddy's mouth dropped open of its own accord.
"You what?"
"I told Leo I loved him," Ella repeated. "Don't look so gobsmacked, Teddy, it doesn't suit you."
"Sorry," Teddy said quickly, closing his jaw. "But ... "
"What?"
"I … didn't realise that you two were so serious." Declarations of love, at least for Teddy, were serious matters that had to be thought about. Granted, he had never been in love before, but surely one didn't just spontaneously declare their love for someone they'd only been dating less than a month?
"Neither did I," Alfie chipped in.
"I don't know," Ella said. "I don't know."
"What?"
"It just kind of came out," she confessed. "Like, I was really upset about … you know, what happened in London, and Leo was there and he was consoling me, and I told him about Mum and Ashton and then he said some nice things … lovely things, actually. And then it just kind of came out."
"Ella," Teddy began before hesitating. "No, never mind."
"You can't do that," she said, her brown eyes piercing into his. "Once you start saying something, you have to finish it. It's in the rules of friendship."
"I wasn't aware that our friendship was governed by rules."
"Teddy."
"Sorry."
"You were saying?"
"Right." He hesitated again, before taking a deep breath. "Are you in love with Leonardo Torricelli?"
"I told him I was, didn't I?"
"Yeah, but are you in love with him?"
Ella didn't seem to know how to answer this. Several seconds passed in silence before she finally shrugged. "I don't know. I certainly care a great deal for him, and I've never felt this way about any boy before. He's funny, he's sweet and he's just generally wonderful. But I don't know if I love him. I mean, I think I do, but I don't really know what love is. If you know what I mean."
"What did he say?" Alfie said suddenly.
"What do you mean?"
"You told him that you loved him. I sincerely doubt he just went, 'Right, cool' and walked away. He must have said something."
"That's just the issue," Ella sighed. "He didn't say he loved me back. I thought … well, I thought he might need time, but it's been a couple of days now, and he hasn't said anything. He hasn't even acknowledged the fact that I told him that I loved him, he's just kind of pretending it never happened. Which is awkward, because if he just said that he's not ready to say it back, I'd appreciate that, and we can go on with our lives and relationship and whatever. But not even acknowledging my feelings…" she trailed off. "I don't know what to do."
Teddy was at a complete loss. He'd never been in Ella's situation before - Merlin, he didn't even know anyone who had. This whole relationship thing was uncharted territory for all of them. He hated being in a position where he couldn't help his friend, but he thought it was probably better to give no advice than to give wrong advice.
Ella seemed to sense this. "I don't expect the two of you to know what to do either," she said in a manner that might be considered abrupt by people unfamiliar with her mannerisms. "I just … I'll figure it out."
"You always do," Alfie said reassuringly.
There was a moment of silence before he continued, "So - Quidditch?"
"If it's alright with you, Alfie, I think I'll miss today's match," Ella said quietly. "I'm just really not feeling up to it. I'll watch from my window."
Alfie's face fell ever so slightly, but he made no fuss about his obvious disappointment. Instead, he did his best to disguise it by slapping on a smile and saying, "No worries, Ella. We'll come by after the match and let you know how it went."
"Thanks." She smiled at him. "Good luck. You know I'll be cheering for you, even if I'm not there."
.oOo.
IV. Bring the boys in
After they left Ella to her own devices, Alfie hurried away to meet Macey Longstone and the rest of the team for their pre-match briefing and pep talk, leaving Teddy alone. Students were milling out of the Great Hall and towards the Quidditch pitch in a steady stream. Daisy Shipkins caught his eye and made a wild gesture in an attempt to catch his attention, but Teddy, who did not want to hear her moaning and complaining about Bella for the next few hours, spotted Giovanna Downing and Matilda Goshawk, and moved towards them instead.
The two girls had been spending most of their time together recently, and Teddy was glad to see that Giovanna had continued to stand up for Matilda. Matilda was such a lovely girl, and she really deserved to have a proper friend for once. She looked much happier now - she smiled more, and was far more chatty than she had been when she was afraid of Daisy swooping down on her at any given moment.
They made small talk about the upcoming Transfiguration test as they walked down to the pitch, and clambered up into the stands. They managed to find seats fairly near the front, giving them an excellent view of both set of hoops.
"Are we saving a seat for Ella?" Matilda enquired.
Teddy shook his head. "She's not coming. She's, er, not feeling too well."
"Oh, that's a shame," Giovanna said, looking truly sorry. "I hope she gets well soon."
Teddy wasn't aware that she had ever exchanged more than a passing remark with Ella, but he was touched by her empathy regardless. "Thanks, Gi. I'll tell her that."
"Who do you think's going to win?" Matilda asked, changing the subject. "I've heard that the Ravenclaw team's been practicing for ages, but they can't possibly have been working harder than the Hufflepuffs. You know Macey Longstone, she's not happy unless every single person on the team is aching all over and begging her to stop."
Teddy laughed at this — he'd been witness to a very sore Alfie returning to the Common Room after practice, moaning and groaning over how much his muscles hurt and how he could barely walk. Macey was nothing if not grueling.
"I wouldn't be so sure of that," said a male voice from behind them. Teddy turned around to see none other than Leonardo Torricelli approaching them, a small, nervous smile on his face. "May I sit here?"
Both Matilda and Giovanna looked rather gobsmacked — Teddy guessed that Leonardo had never really spoken properly to them before. Come to think of it, he'd never spoken properly to Teddy either.
"Yeah," Teddy said, moving over slightly to make room. "Yeah, of course. Hi, Leonardo."
"Hi," the other said awkwardly, sitting down next to Teddy.
There was silence for a few moments, before he added, "I wanted to, um, talk to you."
Matilda and Giovanna glanced at one another, and began talking amongst themselves to give the boys a bit of privacy.
"You do? About what?" Teddy tried his best not to sound abrupt, but he was afraid that he came off as being dismissive. If he did, though, Leonardo appeared not to notice it.
"Well, you're Ella's best friend, and I'm her —" he broke off.
"Boyfriend," Teddy finished for him.
"Right, boyfriend." Leonardo smiled. "It feels weird saying that."
"Why?" Teddy said sharply.
"What?"
"Don't you want to be Ella's boyfriend?"
"Oh! No! I mean, yes! Of course I do. It's just weird to think that we're properly together, when I've liked her for so long."
"You have?" This was news to Teddy, who thought that Leonardo and Ella had only really hit it off while working on that Transfiguration project during the summer, which really wasn't all that long ago.
"Oh yes. Ever since third year, maybe?"
"And you didn't say anything?"
"I was too shy," he said, sighing. "Ella always seemed so … aloof, you know? And she was always with you and Alfie, and I didn't know how you'd take to me just butting in."
Teddy wanted to argue, but he did know what Leonardo was getting at. Ella wasn't exactly the most forthcoming person, and though she was warm enough when you got to know her, it took a while for her to reveal her true personality. "Yeah, I suppose you have a point there."
"But anyway," Leonardo said, "you're her best friend. You and Alfie. And as her boyfriend, I feel I should make an effort to be friends with the two of you. I want you to know that I really care about Ella."
"I'm glad to hear that," Teddy said officiously, suddenly feeling rather like Ella's older brother than her best friend, "because she really … cares about you too. If you hurt her, it won't be pretty for you. And that doesn't just go for me, it goes for Alfie as well."
Leonardo laughed. "I have no intention of hurting her, don't worry."
"I certainly hope so," Teddy said, "because if she so much as cries because of you —"
"You and Alfie will hunt me down and thrust me into the Forbidden Forest with no protection."
"We might give you a stick or something to fend off the wolves."
"How reasonable of you."
Teddy couldn't help but smile. He appreciated Leonardo coming to talk to him, for it meant that he likely really did care about Ella, just as he said. "And just so you know, it's not just us who'll hunt you down. No one, and I mean no one does revenge better than Ella. If I'm being quite honest, she doesn't need our protection. We probably need hers."
"That's one of the things I love about her," Leonardo said, grinning.
Teddy's smile faded somewhat, but he tried his best to keep it up. One of the things he loved about her — what did that mean? Did it mean that, though he hadn't said it outright, Leonardo loved Ella? Would he return her sentiment? Should he, Teddy, say something to Leonardo about how stressed Ella was about having confessed her feelings and then having them ignored?
He hesitated, but decided against it. There was no gentle way to bring something like that into a conversation. As the Quidditch commentator's voice rang out across the pitch, he decided that he would only get involved if the situation, somehow, was exacerbated.
For Ella's sake, he hoped he wouldn't have to.
.oOo.
V: In which the Auror office should really hire Ella
The Quidditch match went splendidly for Hufflepuff and terribly for Ravenclaw.
It was certainly among one of the most charged games Teddy had seen. Macey Longstone seemed to be putting an unusual amount of energy into attempting to knock a bludger in the direction of Piers McKone, the Ravenclaw captain and Seeker. While Teddy thought it might just be one of Macey's strategies, Giovanna Downing thought it had a lot to do with the fact that Piers had apparently stood Macey up on a date.
"Why would he do that?" Matilda had enquired. "Macey's nice."
Giovanna had shrugged. "Apparently Piers just forgot, but now Macey thinks it was a scheme to ruin her focus on Quidditch. This is probably her way of getting revenge."
Whatever it was, it had worked like a charm. Macey, who was an excellent Beater, knocked Piers off his broom within ten minutes. He'd refused medical help and attempted to continue on, but he had clearly been injured. When the snitch appeared, he had no chance of catching it. Bella Watson grabbed it with ease, adding one hundred and fifty points to Hufflepuff's already sizeable total.
Alfie had played brilliantly, and he and Teddy were now chatting enthusiastically as they walked back to the Hufflepuff common room. Alfie's cheeks were flushed a bright pink; he seemed to always glow after Quidditch matches. Teddy enjoyed flying, but Alfie seemed to revel in it. It seemed to infuse him with endless energy.
"Did you see when I dodged that bludger and scored a goal almost simultaneously?" he said excitedly.
Teddy laughed and nodded. "And then you almost got knocked off your broom by that other bludger."
"But I avoided it!" Alfie exclaimed triumphantly. "I- oh, hello, Ella! We won!"
Ella was standing a few feet away from the entrance of the common room. All Teddy had to do was glance at her to know that something was wrong. Her hair, usually perfectly combed, was tousled and she was wearing an old white T-shirt and shorts- highly unusual for someone who was always impeccably dressed. Her eyes looked strained behind her glasses, and there was a slightly wild look in them.
"I heard," she said, and Teddy detected a touch of weariness in her voice. "Congratulations, Alfie, I'm so proud of you."
"Thanks," Alfie said, giving Teddy a sidelong glance. "Is, er, everything okay?"
"Is it Leo?" Teddy chipped in.
"What? No." Ella shook her head. "No. It's just … well … I think I've figured something out."
She motioned for the boys to follow her, providing no explanation as to where they were going. Alfie and Teddy, who by now were used to Ella's strange ways, trailed behind her without question until Alfie, recognising the direction in which they were heading, balked.
"Oh, Ella, not the library!"
"Shut up and come with me, will you?" she snapped.
Alfie, despite his post-Quidditch energy, could do nothing but follow.
Ella led them into the library, past shelves and shelves of books and empty tables. A Quidditch match always put a stop to any work in the library; only the seventh years and a few Ravenclaws who professed a strong dislike of team sports diligently remained. Teddy watched them curiously - how they managed to be immune to the Quidditch fever that gripped the rest of the school population, he couldn't begin to guess.
Ella took the boys into one of the study rooms at the back of the library and shut the door. The room was small, consisting only of an old wooden square table with scratches along its surface, and a couple of chairs. Ella had clearly been busy, for the table was covered in newspaper and magazine clippings, mostly from the Daily Prophet, but also from The Quibbler and other related current affairs publications. Teddy even saw some that he didn't recognise, but judging by the way the figures in the photographs stayed stationary, he figured that they must be muggle.
"What's all this?" Alfie asked, his eyes widening as he scanned the crowded table. "What on Earth have you been up to?"
"I was thinking," Ella began, "back when I was up in my dormitory, about everything that's happened."
"How did you get from Leonardo to that?"
Ella's eyes flashed. "I don't just spend all my time obsessing over boys, Alfie. It was a natural thought progression - I told Leonardo I loved him after I told him about Mum and Ashton, so when I thought about that, I started thinking about the mark. And then I started thinking about how the person behind it could have possibly figured out the addresses of all the muggleborns in London since the Ministry doesn't keep a registry of blood status anymore, and then I realised - they didn't."
"They didn't?" Teddy asked, confused out of his mind.
"No," Ella shook her head impatiently, "at least not all the muggleborns. Listen, Professor McGonagall didn't want me to repeat this, and I didn't realise what it really meant until now, but only the residences that had a witch or a wizard under seventeen living there were targeted."
"So you're saying that they found out the muggleborns' addresses through Hogwarts?" Teddy said slowly.
"Yes."
"Does that mean that someone from inside Hogwarts is responsible?" Alfie asked.
"No," Ella said, chewing her lip. "I've been reading Hogwarts: A History and there's supposedly a book that lists all the names of the magical people born in England. It doesn't list blood status though, so I don't know how the person figured out who was a muggleborn and who wasn't, but it's a start. At least I think. But that's not all."
"What is it then?"
"Everything's connected to Hogwarts," she said. "All the muggleborns targeted in London were Hogwarts students. Two Hogwarts students were kidnapped, and the dark mark appeared on the Hogwarts gates. The Hogsmeade demand happened on the one weekend we, Hogwarts students, happened to visit the village."
"Couldn't that just be some sort of coincidence?" Teddy asked.
Ella shrugged. "It could. But then again - it might not be."
"So what are we going to do?" Alfie looked between Ella and Teddy, his face somewhat terrified. Teddy's heart went out to him - he knew that Alfie had been worried about recent events, and the knowledge that everything may be connected to his school, must not be reassuring.
"I don't know," Ella said, chewing her lip. "It's all still a theory - I don't really have all the facts, I can't prove anything. And I'm sure the Aurors have already figured this out."
"What if they haven't?" Teddy said. "We've got to inform them somehow. Maybe we could write to Tabitha James?"
"No!" Alfie exclaimed loudly, surprising both Teddy and Ella. He sobered quickly, and said, "I just mean, Ella's right. We don't have all the facts yet. We could be entirely wrong."
"We?" Ella quirked an eyebrow.
Alfie rolled his eyes in response. "You."
"Much better, thank you."
Teddy, who was still somewhat taken aback by Alfie's violent response to what he at least had thought was an entirely reasonable suggestion, shook his head. "I think we should let her know. For all we know, this could help her. Don't you two want to find out what's going on?"
"Of course," Ella said softly, "but Alfie is right. We don't know what's going on, not really, and this," she gestured to the table in front of her, "is all speculation. If something else happens, we'll tell her, but right now -" she paused "I think I need to figure this out for myself. Try and make it all make sense. Tabitha …" she shook her head. "I don't know. She doesn't strike me as the kind of person who'd want to waste her time with allegations like mine which aren't properly substantiated."
"You could tell Uncle Harry," Teddy suggested. "He wouldn't judge you if it's wrong!"
"Teddy," Ella said, a hint of determination in her voice. "Believe me when I say no one wants these people caught as much as I do. As far as I'm concerned, they've threatened my mother, and they've threatened Ashton. And that, to me, is like a declaration of war. I'm going to keep working at this, and once I've got something solid, I promise you, it'll go straight to Tabitha. Or your uncle Harry."
Teddy looked into Ella's dark, strong eyes and understood. Ella was fiercely protective of her younger brother; it was almost as if she felt a sort of responsibility to him, as the witch of the family. He knew that she would only do what she thought was best for him, especially in a situation like this.
"Okay," he said, nodding. "Okay. But -"
"But what?"
"You're not in this alone. Alfie and I are here, one hundred percent. Whatever you need, let us know." Alfie nodded staunchly in agreement, although Teddy couldn't help but feel like there was still something a bit odd about his manner.
Ella smiled. "I know. I love both of you, I really do."
"Woah," Alfie held up his hands. "I mean...I appreciate your love and all that, Ella, but, gee, I just don't have romantic feelings like that for you. I'm saving them all up for Bella Wat- ow!"
Ella smacked him on the arm.
"Too soon?" he asked jokingly.
"Too soon."
.oOo.
VI. Speaking of Bella Watson
Bella Watson was the kind of girl who you either loved or hated.
The vast majority of people loved her, and rightfully so, for she was kind, sweet, and beautiful. Sure, she dated around a fair bit, and most of the boys in her year could say that they'd been for dinner with Bella Watson, or that they'd kissed her by the Great Lake, but very few felt bad about the fact that they were but one of many. The girls didn't mind it too much either. Of course, some felt jealous that she monopolised male attention, but many of them had their own boyfriends - and Bella never, ever touched a boy who was in a relationship. She was just too principled for that.
But the simple fact that she was known to play the field was well-utilised by Laura Shipkins. Laura was a known gossip, and many of the girls (and boys, for a teenage love of gossip knows no gender) loved listening to her stories. And when she started talking about a relationship between Bella and Macmillan … well, people believed her. For one, Bella and Macmillan did spend an awful lot of time together, and Bella was known to be a bit of a maneater, and all the supposed facts seemed to knit together.
Plus, who doesn't love a bit of scandal now and then?
All these factors, and several not mentioned (for it is difficult to pin down exactly what is relevant and what is not), came together to create what was later considered as the ultimate moment in the Laura vs. Bella battle. And it all began the Monday after the Quidditch match.
.oOo.
VII. Bella v Laura (part ? of ?)
That Monday, Bella Watson sat in Professor Macmillan's second period Defence Against the Dark Arts class, scribbling down notes as quickly as possible. Her quill scratched against the rough parchment in front of her and she tried to get down all of the very important things Macmillan was saying about jinx theory - something that was sure to come up on their final exam. She was exhausted from the Quidditch match yesterday, but she was determined to keep up in class - missing even a single lesson could have a terrible impact on her exam results, and she wanted to do well more than anything else. Her parents, after all, were banking on it.
"Right," Macmillan said, glancing at his watch. "Take a break. Process what you've learned. And -" A small smile formed on his face, and he held out his hand. "- hand in your weekend homework. I'll be coming around to collect your essays."
Everyone began to scramble in their bags, but Bella remained frozen, her face slowly losing all of its colour. Weekend homework? She suddenly faintly recalled Macmillan saying something on Friday about comparing and contrasting jinx and hex theory as she ran out of class in an effort to make Quidditch practice on time.
"Damn it", she swore under her breath.
Evelien Spironova, the brunette Gryffindor who sat next to her, glanced at her awkwardly, holding a couple of pages of parchment in her hand. "Is everything alright, Bells?"
"No," Bella said, rubbing her hand against her head. "I'm an idiot."
"That's not true."
"It is, Evie. I forgot all about the homework."
Evelien twisted her lips to the side. "Yikes."
"Yup." She sighed. "I promised myself I'd get all my work done, but I just completely forgot, what with the match, and the stress, and the ugh." She hit her fist lightly against her table in frustration. "Goddamn it."
"Hey," Evelien said soothingly, gently resting her palm against Bella's shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. Macmillan's not going to get mad or anything. Especially not -" she glanced around briefly, and then lowered her voice, " - at you."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I just…" Evelien looked a little awkward. "Well, I know, Bella."
"What?"
"About you and Macmillan."
"Oh," Bella said, attempting to hide her irritation. It seemed like everyone thought she was dating Professor Macmillan; she thought that the seventh years, at least, would have enough common sense to know that she was completely innocent, and that Laura Shipkins was not to be trusted when it came to her. "Yeah. We're not dating. Or hooking up, or whatever everyone seems to think we're doing."
"Oh," Evelien said. "I just - "
"Assumed since everyone's talking about it. Yeah, whatever."
Evelien shrank back slightly. "Bells -"
Bella sighed. "I'm sorry, Evie, it's just this whole thing is starting to get on my nerves. It's so … wrong."
"I have to admit, I didn't really believe it at first. But then everyone was talking about it, and Laura Shipkins swore-"
"She'll swear anything where I'm concerned."
"Fair point," Evelien said. "I don't know why she's got it out for you, I mean, you're both such nice people."
Bella almost laughed at this. Laura Shipkins had been nothing but horrible to her since the day they had both started at Hogwarts, and it amazed Bella to think that she could be nice to other people. To Bella, it seemed like she was incapable of it.
Professor Macmillan reached their table, and Evelien handed her essay to him. "I'm not sure if I interpreted the question right," she said, "but I did my best anyway."
"I'm sure it's wonderful, Miss Spironova," Macmillan said, smiling at Evelien. Bella couldn't help but think that he had quite a nice smile, genuine and kind with no hint of being forced.
"Miss Watson?"
"Sorry?" Bella snapped out of her reverie, and looked at Macmillan, who was staring at her questioningly, one arm around a stack of essays and the other hand outstretched towards her.
"Your essay?"
"Right." She hesitated, very much aware that most of the class was staring at her and Macmillan. She could distinctly hear Laura Shipkins whispering to Malini Farrow, another Hufflepuff in their year, and she instinctively knew what they were saying. After all, when did Laura ever pass up an opportunity to deride and disparage her, or to spread her poisonous trash?
Ignore them.
She focused her attention back on Professor Macmillan and said, "I'm sorry, Professor. I forgot."
"You forgot?"
"Yes," she said, lowering her eyes shamefully. "This weekend was busy for me, what with the Hufflepuff Quidditch match being pre-poned and -"
"Faye's on the Quidditch team too, you know," Laura said, in what was ostensibly supposed to be a whisper, but was loud enough for the entire class to hear. "And she did the essay."
Bella ignored her. "I'm so sorry, Professor."
"Bella, I can't let this go," he said, his dark eyes solemn.
"I understand."
"I'm afraid you'll have to serve detention with me tonight."
Several things happened at once.
"WHAT?" Laura Shipkins practically screamed, jumping up from her chair.
Her chair scraped against the floor, and toppled over. The leg got caught under Malini Farrow's chair, and Malini fell to the floor with a distinct, "Ow!" Girls across the class began giggling.
Laura paid them no heed. Instead, she advanced towards Bella and Macmillan, her eyes blazing.
Bella froze.
"This cannot be good," Evelien muttered under her breath. Her hand went to her wand.
"Miss Shipkins, please take a seat," Macmillan said in an ineffectual attempt to placate her.
"When I failed to hand in an essay on time, you failed me!" Laura snapped at Macmillan. "And you're making her serve detention? Just detention? With you. I had an excuse, and you weren't that lenient with me! Just because you're screwing her -"
"Miss Shipkins!" Macmillan exclaimed, the horror evident on his face. Suddenly, the classroom was very, very silent, almost like a morgue, or a graveyard. Bella felt her cheeks burn with a red hot embarrassment, and she wanted nothing more than to melt into the ground. The rumour had been bearable until now. She respected Professor Macmillan, nothing more. And now it was all going to go to hell.
"Oh can it, Professor, we all know it." Laura's voice was filled with a victorious malice. "You two have been screwing for months - hell, maybe even since last year. Why else would you want her to serve a detention with you, tonight? What even is that, code for sex?"
"Laura!" Bella shouted, surprising everyone, including herself. She was not the kind of person who got angry easily, but this … this was far, far too much. "You don't know anything, alright?"
She was aware of Macmillan's eyes on her, but she couldn't stand to look at him. "Professor Macmillan and I are not… whatever. It's just a silly rumour that you made up because you're jealous of me."
"I am not-"
"Can it, Shipkins, it's the truth!" Bella got up from her seat and advanced towards the redhead. Evelien tried to stop her, but Bella shook her off. "Everyone here knows it! You can't stand that I'm smarter than you, better at Quidditch, and, yes, prettier than you! You can't stand any of it, so you make up these ridiculous lies in order to kid yourself that I am not deserving of any of it."
"You little bitch!"
"Girls!" Macmillan exclaimed loudly in an attempt to be heard over them. "Girls, I must ask you both to please-"
"Yes, call me a bitch, why don't you?" Bella screamed. "Call me a bitch, a slut, a whore, call me all of those things, but it won't change the fact that you are nothing but an immature little entitled brat who can't stand the idea that she isn't a little special snowflake and the teacher's pet."
"Teacher's pet!" Laura snorted. "I don't want to be a teacher's pet if it means I have to shag the teacher!"
"I AM NOT SHAGGING PROFESSOR MACMILLAN!"
Silence.
Bella stood in the middle of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, surrounded by people and yet feeling more alone than she ever had in her life. What is this? she asked herself silently. Is this my punishment for doing well, for being above average? She was faintly aware of Evelien approaching her, putting her arm around her and rubbing her shoulder softly, but it didn't matter. None of it did. Because of her, someone else's life had been ruined. Macmillan's name would always be negatively associated with hers, and it was all her fault for thinking that maybe, just maybe she could be above average.
She shouldn't be Head Girl. She shouldn't have been a prefect. She shouldn't be on the Quidditch team.
Pushing Evelien aside, she turned and ran out of the room.
.oOo.
VII: Interconnected and unconnected
Things are always happening everywhere, and it is often difficult to determine which one is the most important. On the evening of the very same day that Bella Watson ran out of class after exclaiming that she and Professor Macmillan were not having sexual relations, Tabitha James stood in Gawain Robards' office getting a serious talking-down to.
"Why is it that we still have no leads? It's been almost a month, James, the bloody Department is breathing down my neck and -"
If there was one thing Tabitha hated, it was being talked down to. She did her job. She always did her job to the best of her abilities, and sometimes things went slowly. It was the way it worked - sometimes you got leads, and sometimes you didn't. It irritated her like hell, and she tried her best to expedite the investigative process, but nothing, and she meant nothing, was biting. This, she thought, truly was the case from hell.
Naturally it was the one that got all the media attention.
"Can you explain why only wizards under seventeen were targeted? Was Hogwarts infiltrated?"
"Not that we -"
"Was the Ministry of Magic broken into?
"No-"
"Then how the hell did they find out where the muggleborns lived?"
"Sir I'm try-"
"Try bloody harder. Put in more hours, instead of going off to have dinner with Potter -"
Tabitha groaned inwardly. Of course he'd heard. She'd had a lovely Hallowe'en dinner at Potter's house, actually enjoyed herself for once (not that she'd admit it), and of course, Robards would find a way to ensure that it never happened again.
"That reporter wife of his could have tried to weasel case details out of you -"
"She didn't."
"How do you know?"
"How do I-" Tabitha rolled her eyes. "Because I didn't tell her anything!"
"She has her ways, that Ginny Weasley. She was the worst player the Holyhead Harpies ever had. And I hope you didn't tell Potter anything - he has his own cases to deal with."
Cases which are too simple for him, Tabitha thought.
"I did not hire you, Tabitha, to socialise with the bloody Boy Who Lived."
Tabitha bit back a retort. "No, sir. You hired me to solve this case. But you're not giving me the resources I need-"
"How am I not giving you the resources you need?" Robards exploded. "You have Munroe-"
"He's not enough! We need more people on this!"
"Why, James? Why do you need more people when you don't even have a bloody lead? I'll tell you what - you get me a lead, I'll get you more people. Until then, I've got nothing for you"
She held her head up defiantly, meeting Robards' gaze. "Give me a Hogsmeade patrol."
"Nothing for you," he repeated, breaking eye contact and turning to the papers on his desk. "You're dismissed, James."
"Damn it!" she slammed her hands down on his desk, causing him to look up in shock. "You're not giving me the resources I need, and you expect me to get you a lead? Why don't you do it then, if you're so bloody wonderful? I need a Hogsmeade patrol."
"Why?"
Tabitha paused. She didn't actually know why she needed one, but there was a swirling feeling in her gut that told her that it was the right thing to do, that she needed one there. Her mind worked as fast as lightning, and she joined the dots quickly. "Sir, London was attacked. Hogsmeade has already been indicated as a place of interest for whoever these people are, and it's got a sizeable wizarding population - the second largest outside London. We've theorised that the London attacks were to make people feel insecure, and if that's their goal, Hogsmeade is the next obvious target. Hell, it's right next to Hogwarts."
"And why the hell didn't you tell me all this before?"
Tabitha bit back a retort. "Sorry, sir."
Robards shook his head condescendingly. "Fine. You'll get your patrol. Now go and get me some actual leads. You're dismissed, James."
She bit her lip, nodded, and left the office silently, her anger simmering rather than satiated.
She would show him, that's what she would do. She'd get a bloody lead. She'd do it all by herself. She'd solve this case, and then she'd be back to being his star Auror.
Aurors were slowly filtering out of the office as she assumed her place at her desk. In front of her was the timeline that she had spent the last few days working on — it was filled with images of the kidnapped girls and the related crimes that had been committed, lists of the London targets, and multiple news reports and evidence files. She'd painstakingly accumulated all of the existing knowledge that they had about the events and she scanned it now, trying desperately to search for something new in the mixture of images and text.
"I'm missing something," she whispered to herself. "I know I'm missing something."
*the misspelling of 'friendship' is totally intentional. The chapter is titled after Jane Austen's Love and Freindship - she spelled the title wrong, but her publishers elected to keep the error!
Hope you guys liked this chapter - I personally love the parallels between Bella v Laura (part ? and ?) and Standing up, and I loved writing the scene between Leo and Teddy. As usual, update due in two weeks (21st September!)