AN: I am so, so, sorry! I couldn't come up with any good ideas for about a week. Then, when I finally had something swirling around in my head, the internet shut down. For two whole weeks! On the other hand, it did give me more time to write and edit this chapter. Thanks as usual to my insane 695 followers and 447 favorites. Super special thanks to reviewers HellsMaji, mdauben, tylxor1, Badgedbadger, lilmisdiva, Thinker90, phoebe turner, Spring Raine, Cosmyk Angel, Firenze Fox, Kairan1979, Majerus, CelestialRyuu, Narnia and Harry Potter 4 EVER, B00kw0rm92, serenityselena, DanceThroughMyStory, Makurayami Ookami, Uncreativenamethinker, Cassandra30, Yana5, RRW, serialkeller, Lightningblade49, Guest, and red-jacobson. Apologies for not being able to respond to all of them. Just a warning: this chapter contains the Weasley boys being unable to deal with girls. And some of you will be supremely irritated by one character's actions in this story. Just remember this: if we were all brave and good and loyal, the world would be a very boring place. And hooray! I finally surpassed 50,000 words. Thanks again! Before I forget, who would you like for History professor?
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise.
"Why'd you bring her along?" Oliver whined. He, Percy, and Penelope Clearwater were standing in the second floor corridor, about to embark on what Oliver considered a top secret mission. It was only intended to be the two boys, but Percy had been unable to lie to Penny, and the copper-haired girl joined them.
"Don't worry," Percy whispered, shooting furtive glances at his not-quite-girlfriend. "We can trust her."
Oliver looked at the Ravenclaw dubiously. Penelope had vibrant blue eyes and impossibly curly hair, along with a brilliant mind. But at 5'2 with a fragile, stick thin figure, she didn't look all that helpful. "Are you sure?"
"Positive," Percy declared decisively. Penny was the girl of his dreams, with an ethical code nearly identical to his own. The only difference was her odd affinity for animals. Percy had never been overly fond of Scabbers, and Hermes was mainly a messenger. He had already told her the majority of what was to come.
"So where are we going?" Penny asked shyly. Oliver barreled ahead, face set in a grim scowl. Percy sidled up next to her and hesitantly took her hand in his.
"Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," he replied, giving her hand a little squeeze. Either she didn't notice or she didn't mind. Percy found himself sorely wishing for the latter.
"Is it because of that snake on the faucet?" She wondered.
Oliver rolled his eyes. "With deduction skills like that, it's no wonder you were placed in Ravenclaw," he murmured sarcastically. This girl was supposed to help them?
"I-I-I don't know, Percy," She said, involuntarily taking a step back. "The Chamber of Secrets is Slytherin's private quarters. He wasn't very friendly to people like me," She pleaded.
"People like you?" Oliver repeated blankly.
"Y'know," She swallowed nervously. "Muggleborns."
An awkward silence followed, and Penny began to wonder if she shouldn't have said anything.
"Here, we'll just open it up and then leave and tell a teacher. If it doesn't open up, we had nothing to worry about all along," Percy said casually, throwing an arm around her shoulder. "Sound good?"
She nodded, leaning into him.
But the spout refused to budge. Penny even threw out a few spells the boys had never heard of, but nothing worked.
"Should've known," Oliver cursed angrily. "Figures Slytherin would have his spooky secret chamber sealed tight." He kicked the sink.
"So this means we can leave now, right?" Penny asked, edging towards the door. Even with Percy's promise, her stomach was tied up in knots.
"Not yet. There's got to be another way," Percy frowned, walking around the sinks.
The door burst open, and if it had been a professor, Percy would never have lived down the embarrassment of being caught in the girl's loo. Luckily, it was Harry and Hermione. The two second years appeared out of breath and concerned.
"Finally!" Hermione gasped. "We…found you…now."
"You know…what would…help? If…the castle…were smaller," Harry wheezed.
"Yeah, but…then it wouldn't…be as magical," Hermione pointed out.
Harry considered this. "That's probably…true."
"Why were you looking for us?" Percy asked.
Harry and Hermione slid down the wall to sit on the floor.
"Colin's been…petrified," Hermione explained.
"Who's Colin?" Penny spoke up.
The two gave a start, not realizing she was there. "Colin Creevey…first year…camera…really annoying."
"Harry," Hermione scolded, giving him a half-hearted swat.
He ducked his head. "Okay, so he's…not that bad," He clutched his side and groaned.
"Merlin, you two are out of shape," Oliver remarked. He received twin glares in response.
"Was Colin, um, was he muggleborn?" Penny asked.
"Yeah, why?" Harry asked, confused.
Her face contorted. "I should really leave now, I think-"
"Where are you going?" Oliver called.
"I-I just-" She cast an anxious look back at the spout with the snake. "I don't think it's safe for me to stay here."
"Because you're muggleborn?" Oliver snorted. "Hermione's staying, and she's muggleborn."
Hermione looked uncomfortable at being made the subject of the conversation.
"Yes, but I'm not like her, or like any of you, really. I can't—I'm not brave. This is just too scary. I'm not a Gryffindor, I'm a Ravenclaw. Ravenclaws use their common sense, and right now common sense is telling me to get out!" She screamed hysterically, tears running down her face.
"Penny-" Percy reached out to her.
"No!" She held up her hands protectively. Percy looked stricken. "I'm sorry Percy, I'm sorry. I just—I can't—I can't help you anymore." She hurried away, rubbing at her eyes.
Myrtle came out of her toilet, yawning. "What is all that noise? It's awfully hard to sleep with people screaming."
"I didn't know ghosts slept," Harry said.
Myrtle's face twisted into an ugly sneer. "Of course you didn't. No one ever thinks of us ghosts, do they? Especially not ugly old Myrtle!" She let out a sob and flew back into her toilet. Percy was rooted to the spot, transfixed.
"Percy? Do you think Penelope will tell anyone?" Hermione asked.
"She won't," He replied immediately. "Even if she won't help us, she won't do anything to hurt us either. We should really get back to the chamber." Percy looked lost, as if he weren't quite sure what to do next.
"But it won't open," Oliver replied.
"It won't open by force, maybe," Hermione said, standing up and beginning to pace. "Slytherin couldn't let just anyone in. It would have to be someone he trusted, someone he believed would never reveal his secrets…"
An idea struck Harry. "Dudley used to have a tree house for him and his friends out back. They got too big for it really fast, but I remember Dudley would make his friends give a password before they could get in." He stood and walked closer to the sink.
"But what password would he choose?" Percy pondered.
"Oh, great Salazar Slytherin?" Oliver suggested. "No? How 'bout snakes are the best?"
"It's probably in Gaelic or Latin, or another dead language," Hermione fretted. "How are we going to figure it out?"
"That's it!" Percy snapped his fingers. "The password isn't in English! It's in another language-"
"A language Salazar Slytherin could speak, along with people he really, truly trusted." Hermione nodded, comprehension dawning on her.
"Are you getting any of this?" Oliver asked Harry skeptically.
Harry shook his head mutely.
Percy and Hermione gave identical sighs of exasperation. "Slytherin was a parselmouth. Legend says only his descendants could speak Parseltongue, and family is insanely important to Slytherins. He would have trusted them with everything, so it stands to reason that the password is in Parseltongue."
Oliver furrowed his brow. "And the only parselmouth we know just so happens to be in this very room."
Harry flushed as all eyes turned on him. "I-I dunno what the password is."
"Maybe it won't matter," Percy shrugged. "Maybe the magic just needs to identify that you're an honest-to-Merlin parselmouth."
"Can't hurt to try," Oliver said noncommittally.
"Please, Harry?" Hermione whispered, her eyes growing wide.
He felt his resolve crumbling. "Okay." What if I can't do it? What if I mess up? "Open," He attempted to hiss.
"You're still speaking English," Percy told him.
"Open," He tried again. Hermione's face fell.
"Open," He repeated, growing frustrated.
"You sure you're a parselmouth?" Oliver asked.
Harry's blood boiled. He was completely sure; he knew he could talk to snakes. How else could the vanishing glass be explained?
"Open!" He shouted angrily.
The stone grinded, shifting through the sink. It slowly opened, and Myrtle flew out of her toilet bowl again to investigate. "What's going on out here?"
Three of the kids tried to find a polite way to respond to that, but Oliver chose to speak his mind.
"Something that has nothing to do with you," He said flatly.
Myrtle huffed. "Well, I never," She snapped, soaring away.
"Great, she's gone. Now let's do some exploring." Oliver rubbed his hands together.
"No." Percy said firmly. "I already told you we'd go tell a teacher."
"What?" Oliver exclaimed. "I thought you were only saying that because she was with us!"
"Going down into a secret chamber with no back up against a basilisk is one of the stupidest ideas I've ever heard, and I live with Ron," Percy scoffed. "You and I will go tell McGonagall about this, while Harry and Hermione go to lunch and act as if nothing is wrong. No one can know about the basilisk. Got it?" He ordered.
"Ow!" Angelina shrieked as she dropped her thick History of Magic book on her foot. George made to pick it up, but a tall, lanky, bronze-haired Hufflepuff got there first.
"Here you go. Are you alright?" He said kindly. George wanted to punch him
"Oh yes, I'm fine. Thanks you so much for picking it up," Angelina batted her eyelashes coquettishly.
"No problem," He flashed a broad smile at her. George's hand twitched towards his wand.
"Hey listen, you know how there's a Hogsmeade weekend coming up?"
"Yes?" She leaned in a little closer.
"Well, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go with me? Y'know, like on a date," Cedric asked confidently.
"I would love to," She replied, putting a gentle hand on his arm.
"Great! How about you meet me in the Great Hall at eleven?"
"Sounds good to me," She said cheerfully.
"Okay, see you later Angie!" And he dashed away to catch up with his friends.
"Bye Cedric!" She called after him. George's jaw clenched. He was the only one allowed to call her Angie! Not that bloody Hufflepuff. And Angelina seemed to like it too, because she gave a small girlish sigh and clasped the book to her chest.
"Oh, hey Fred! Where's George?" She said upon spying him lurking in the corner. He felt a stab of pain in his chest; sure they were identical twins, but shouldn't Angelina be able to tell them apart by now? He decided to keep up the little charade.
"My brother's off trying to romance Alicia," He said honestly. Fred really was about to ask Alicia out. The twins had decided to do it at the same time, together, just like they did everything. But now George was going to be alone for the weekend.
"Oh. Tell him to have fun," She chirped. There was not a single hint of jealousy in her face, and George felt discouraged. Had he imagined all of her adoring looks his way? Had their relaxed flirting meant more to him than it had to her? Had she perhaps never been able to tell him apart from his brother? Alicia always could. She always knew which was which. It was what Fred had initially been drawn too. George also thought it was cool. Because even when you're a twin, you want to be your own person.
"Hey Alicia," Fred swung himself over the side of a couch in the Gryffindor Common Room.
"Fred," She met him frostily.
"You're not still upset over Halloween, are you? It's almost Christmas!"
"I don't care," She sniffed, turning away.
"Come on Alicia. I said I was sorry," He pleaded with her.
"You don't even know what you did wrong," She snapped, pointing a finger at him accusingly. "You think it's perfectly fine to go around spreading people's secrets, making fun of them!"
"It wasn't that bad," He denied.
"Yes it was! Ugh, you know what? I'm tired of you, Fred Weasley!" She abruptly stood and stormed out of the Common Room.
"Wait, Alicia!" Fred jogged after her. "Alicia I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"
"Yes you did!" She shrieked, whirling around. He was surprised to see her crying. "You knew exactly what you were doing. You justified it by saying that it was only Filch. Well guess what? Filch is a person too! You may not like him, but he's just another guy who happens to not have any magic. You wouldn't be acting this way if it were someone you liked!" She burst out.
"Alicia, are-are you okay?" He asked.
"Of course I-I a-a-am," She blubbered.
"Oh, Alicia," He drew her into a hug. She sobbed in his arms, trying to talk before collapsing into tears again. He rubbed her back soothingly. Dealing with Ginny had given Fred years of comforting experience. "Wanna tell me what's wrong?"
"It's um…it's my brother Marshall. He's a squib. I mean, I knew he probably was, because he never had any accidental magic, but I was still hoping. This past summer, he was supposed to get his Hogwarts letter, but it never came." She scrubbed at her eyes.
"I didn't really care that much; he's still my brother. But Marshall was devastated. None of his friends would play with him anymore. And Gryffindor's always called the non-biased house, but everyone still treats squibs like they're dirt. And I just-it was you! You were the one making fun of them, and it made me angry."
He stiffened; clearly a simple apology wouldn't do. "I'm still really sorry, Alicia. I had no idea. Here, I'll make a big apology to Filch, and George, Lee, and me will stop pranking him. I'll try to convince Peeves too, but I don't know if it will work-"
He was cut off by Alicia launching herself at him happily.
"Would you really do all that for me? Oh Fred, that's so sweet!"
"I'm guessing she said yes, then," George spoke up from behind.
Alicia pulled back, embarrassed and puzzled. "Yes to what?"
The tips of Fred's ears turned red. "Well, I was gonna ask you to the Hogsmeade weekend, but I figured it wouldn't be a good idea right now." He rubbed the back of his neck.
"Actually, I'd really like to go to Hogsmeade with you." Alicia beamed up at him.
George cleared his throat. "D'you think I could come with?"
"Angelina said no?" Alicia gasped.
"She already has a date," George said, scuffing the floor with his shoes.
"Of course you can," Alicia cooed sympathetically.
Fred forced the corners of his mouth to move upwards and resemble a smile. Great, just great. He loved George, he really did. But now was his chance with Alicia, and his twin brother was going to be crashing their date. All because Angelina had decided to get a different date. Was there any way that he could convince her otherwise? A plan began to take shape in Fred Weasley's very dangerous mind.
Harry could only stop and stare as Hermione made a beeline for Lavender and Parvati at the Gryffindor table. She always sat with him and Ron. Always. Where would he sit now? Was he supposed to follow her, or to go find Ron? His best mate sat with Dean, Seamus, and Neville. He walked towards the boys, filled with trepidation.
"Hey Harry," Seamus greeted him. The Irish boy had already finished, and appeared to be watching Ron eat in deep fascination. Neville gave him a strange jerk of the head, which was probably supposed to be some kind of cool, laid back nod. Dean waved, gazing at his sketch pad morosely.
"What's the matter?" Harry asked him.
"I took some art lessons over the summer—just some really casual stuff—and the instructor there told me to improve on drawing humans," He explained. "She suggested that I use a model to help. The only problem is, no one wants to be my model."
"I said I would," Ron said around a mouthful of ham sandwich.
"Yeah, but it's kind of hard to draw someone who won't stop eating," Dean retorted. "Anyway, I'm about ready to just give up on drawing people. It's too hard," he sighed.
Harry cringed. He just knew he was gonna regret doing this. "I'll be your model."
"Really?" Dean perked up instantly.
"Sure. Why not?" Harry reckoned it wouldn't be too bad. His real motivation for doing this was actually to keep Dean safe. He knew the boy was a muggleborn, which meant he was at risk from being killed by the basilisk. Being a model gave him the perfect excuse to be near Dean at all times, and possibly allow him to stop the basilisk.
"Great!" Dean cheered. "The first few aren't gonna look too good, but I'll get better after some practice."
Dean was right; the only way Harry could tell the first drawing was him was because of the scar. Dean had done the whole thing in pencil, which meant his eyes were just a simple gray. His messy hair merely looked curly, his nose was too small, his lips too big. There was so much wrong with it, but Harry just slapped Dean on the back and told him to try again.
Students began filtering out of the Great Hall shortly after one-thirty. Hermione and her gaggle of giggling girls exited hurriedly, seemingly anxious to get back to the dorms. Ron and Seamus went back to the Common Room to play a "quick" game of chess, Neville following them hopefully. Penelope was doing homework when she caught Harry staring at her, before beating a hasty retreat. Still, Dean drew Harry, crumpling the paper when Harry's jaw was too strong or his ears protruding too far out. It was nearly four when Dean declared they were done for the day.
"Thank you so much Harry," Dean said with a smile. "Sorry it took so long. I really wasn't expecting that. But I think it worked. I'm definitely better than before." He handed Harry a slightly wrinkled sheet of paper.
Harry's jaw dropped. It was him! Well of course it was, but this looked unbelievably realistic. His eyes behind his glasses sparkled, and the underside of his jaw was carefully shaded in. But by far, Harry's favorite part was the fact that his lightning shaped scar was obscured by his black bangs. He glanced up at Dean questionably.
"You kept pulling them down, so I thought you'd like them this way," He explained. "Must be hard to be famous all the time," He ventured.
"Yeah," Harry grinned wryly. "Yeah, I guess it is." And that was how Dean Marcel Thomas became friends with Harry James Potter.
"Hey Katie, wanna go out to Hogsmeade with me?"
"What do you think about going out for a butter beer with me, Katie?"
"Hey Katie, I just realized—we never celebrated your birthday. I'll take you to Honeydukes."
No matter what faces Cormac made, none of them really worked with his proposals. He tried going for the alluring smile, which made him look constipated. He tried going for the self-assured smirk, which made him look constipated. He even tried the shy, insecure, puppy dog eyes, which still made him look constipated. He had worked this over in his head for ages. He would ask her to Hogsmeade, and if he did it right, she'd say yes. If she said no, it wouldn't be that big of a deal though. Not a problem at all. No, he'd just hide up in the dorms and never speak to anyone again out of shame. It'd be fine.
"How does Hogsmeade sound to you?"
"Really weird, actually."
Cormac almost jumped out of his skin at hearing a voice answer him. It was Lee Jordan, a Gryffindor a year above him. Lee commented on the Quidditch games, and Cormac was almost positive that he and Katie were at least friendly acquaintances, if not more. In fact, Lee indirectly played a role in Cormac's reasoning behind speeding up the plan. Katie had a lot of guy friends, and even boys she wasn't friends with had noticed that Katie Bell was a girl, and an attractive one at that. Cormac had to get there first. Otherwise, one of the others might steal her away, and he would never have another chance.
"What are you going here?" Cormac asked, ignoring Lee's knowing look.
"Just thought I'd come help out a good friend." Lee bobbed his head up and down before taking a seat on Cormac's bed.
Cormac frowned. Since when were he and Lee Jordan good friends? Cormac didn't know the first thing about the boy.
"Specifically in the romance department," Lee clarified.
Cormac flushed. "How did you know about that?"
"I have my ways," Lee said mysteriously. "Anyway, first we have to make sure that Katie really thinks you guys are friends—"
"But I thought you had to just ask her first, so that you didn't get stuck in the friend zone," Cormac said, bewildered.
"Who fed you that load of tripe?" Lee asked.
"My sister." Cormac considered Olivia to be the leading expert on girls and romance. After all, she was a girl, and she certainly had no shortage of boyfriends.
Lee dismissed this with a wave of his hand. "Olivia doesn't know what she's talking about. She thinks she does, but she doesn't. Remember, this is Katie we're talking about. She won't just accept a flower and a compliment and then ride off into the sunset with you. It's going to take skill, finesse, and a lot of hair gel."
Cormac nodded slowly. "But how do you know all this?"
"Please," Lee snorted. "I'm older and wiser than you, young grasshopper. I have learned this through trial and error, through extenuating circumstances, through living the hardships of life."
"Young grasshopper?" Cormac echoed blankly.
Lee sighed impatiently. "Good muggle movie references are lost on purebloods," He murmured disappointedly. "Never mind how I know all of this stuff, the important part is that I know it and I'm helping you. Now are you gonna get the girl or not?"
"Well, yeah-"
"And you want to impress her, right?"
"Yeah, but-"
"Great!" Lee clapped his hands together. "Let's get going, then."
"Lee? Why are you bothering to help me?" Cormac asked.
Lee groaned. "Why are you asking all these questions? Look, the way I see it, all of my friends are either shacked up, about to be shacked up, or too young to be shacked up. I don't have any girls to go after, so I'm going to help you with yours. You know, I could probably be a matchmaker with this amount of practice. You'll probably be my last customer that I don't charge. Feel privileged."
"Alright people, listen up," Ginny barked. Meetings without Colin had been chaotic. Everyone missed him, but at the same time, people wanted to be moved up to replace him. Ginny was leaning towards Luna herself, but Demelza was certain that as secretary and third in ranking, she deserved to be vice president. As Treasurer Sheila MacDuff had said, it was a dragon eat dragon world. Ginny didn't have time to argue politics though; she was on a mission.
"Colin Creevey is in the hospital wing for an indefinite amount of time. We know a snake has bitten him. We know that we're not supposed to know. We know…um, Demelza, what else do we know?"
"Not much, Madam President," Demelza whispered.
"Right. There are people who know exactly what is going on. Namely, my brothers, Hermione, and our esteemed boy-who-lived."
"He's the greatest," All members simultaneously chanted.
"Thank you. Now, he is much too great to fall for any tricks of ours, and we would not play any on him anyway, for he is too good. Hermione and Percy possess a superior intellect, and would see through our plans. The twins are notoriously hard to seek out, and most likely wouldn't help us regardless. This means that we have only one option at our disposal. Ron is the weakest link. He's susceptible to bribery, and I have the perfect thing." Ginny held up a bag containing three corned beef sandwiches. "His favorite," She proclaimed. "We just need to find a way to slip it to him that won't look obvious."
Michael Cadwallader, Head of Special Operations, quickly devised a plan. Bailey Ryker, speechwriter and the most charismatic of them all, would cheerfully offer to share his sandwiches with Ron in exchange for a little help with some wizard culture. Bailey was muggleborn, and would say that it was easy stuff for a pureblood like Ron to figure out. He would first ask a few questions about simple stuff, like dragons and if a spell to wash dishes existed. And then, when Ron was least expecting it, Bailey would calmly ask about a snake that left no mark on its victims. And if Ron did somehow realize what they were up to, Bailey would withhold Ron's favorite sandwiches until the ginger gave in.
The plan had obvious holes. Anyone who didn't know of Ron's legendary appetite doubted that the food would be an appropriate motivator. Some doubted Bailey's ability to appear convincing and sincere. Ginny herself was just worried that Ron was smarter than she thought. But at the moment, it was the only lead they had. Colin had to wake up soon, and the easiest way to ensure that would happen was to figure out what precisely had made him that way.
"So dragons really do exist?"
"Uh-huh."
"And magic carpets are no longer used in Britain, but people in the Middle East use them all the time?"
"That's right."
"And gnomes don't look like muggle gnomes at all?"
"Yeah."
"Wow. Okay, one more question and then you can have the sandwiches. What kind of snake would be able to put someone in a coma without leaving any sort of bite mark?"
Ron thought over the question for a moment. Wait a minute, he thought. A snake that doesn't leave any mark would be… "Er, well, I don't think I can answer that one."
"Why not?" Bailey asked innocently.
"I just don't think it would be a good idea, s'all." Ron was starting to get a little irritated. Who was this kid anyway? What made him decide to ask Ron all these questions? What gave him the right?
"Oh, I understand. I guess you just don't get these sandwiches, then." Bailey's act wasn't fooling Ron. But still, he couldn't take that chance.
"Wait!" He called. Ron breathed in deeply through his nose. "Corned beef," He muttered.
"Sorry?" Bailey asked, leaning in.
"Corned beef," Ron said again, louder this time. He frantically looked around the common room. There was his little sister, surrounded by a group of first years, watching his exchange with Ryker intently. "Ginny." He gnashed his teeth together.
Her eyes widened and she stood, anxious to leave.
"Stop right there," He instructed. For once, she listened to him.
"I just wanted to know what hurt Colin," She explained meekly. "No one will tell me."
"Ginny, come on. I can't tell you."
"Why not?" She demanded.
"Because. I can't. It's a secret." He swore.
"Oh yeah, sure, like I haven't heard that one before," She said angrily.
"Ginny, I'm serious this time. It's a big deal. I can't just go around telling anyone what went on. I want to tell you, I do, but this isn't like at the Burrow. It's different." He struggled to get the point across.
"I bet it is," She said icily. "Just one last thing. How did you know it was me?"
He shrugged. "It was simple, really. You and Mum are the only ones who don't know that I hate corned beef."
Cedric Diggory was feeling wonderful about life. His grades were wonderful, his friends were wonderful, Quidditch was wonderful, and now his date to Hogsmeade was wonderful. Angelina Johnson was pretty, smart, and tough. She didn't scream at the sight of spiders or snakes, and she could hold her own in a duel. Most important was the fact that she didn't dote and swoon and fawn on him like most of the other girls. Not that Cedric didn't like it, but it just got tiring when you couldn't get the thrill of the chase anymore because they all loved you. It didn't matter if he'd rejected them; they just went back to pining for him.
Angelina had taken a little less effort than he had thought. Maybe he should've gone for a Slytherin. But that wouldn't work. None of them were particularly good looking. Cedric didn't really consider himself a shallow person, but he didn't want to be saddled with some sort of hag either. Besides, he didn't think he could handle the constant talk of blood purity. Not to mention the fact that some of the old fashioned pureblood families believed that if you were to kiss a girl, you intended to marry her someday. Cedric wasn't quite ready for that level of commitment.
In actuality, Cedric wasn't ready for any level of commitment anywhere. He switched his social circle around frequently, and as soon as a girl started falling in love, he split. It wasn't so much that he was afraid as it was that he didn't want to restrict himself to any one thing. His father was starting to get a bit annoyed by the very trait he had encouraged: curiosity.
Cedric was restless, and he wanted to roam free without limits. He had wanted this since his mother had died. Just moments before she had drawn her last breath, she had whispered to him that he could be anything he wanted. An auror, a professor, a professional Quidditch player; the sky wasn't even the limit, because he could go beyond that if he wanted. And Cedric did want that. He wanted more than that.
He wanted everything.
"Oliver, are you okay?" Katie asked, concerned.
"Yeah, just thinking." He was sitting in the bleachers, staring out at the clear blue sky. The ideal flying conditions, but something more sinister and serious was on his mind. He and Percy had been on their way to McGonagall's office when Madam Hooch had stopped him. She wanted to talk about the rogue Bludger from the game. Percy had waved him on and kept moving, saying that he would be fine.
Apparently, not a single ounce of unusual magic had been found on the Bludger. She claimed that perhaps it was just faulty, and that she'd appeal to the Headmistress and the board of governors for a new one. Oliver knew better. Someone was targeting Harry. He had to figure out who and why.
More nerve-wracking was that the Chamber of Secrets had been found. It would never go down in history, because it wasn't supposed to exist. Would that mean that people would continue to look for it? Would that mean that some other fool would try to breed a new basilisk in the old one's place? Oliver's head spun with these questions.
He was also thinking of something else, something a tad more selfish. His mother had owled to say that she did not approve of his choice in careers. Something more stable, she had written. Oliver technically only had a two year contract. Puddlemere could drop him after his first year on the team. His mother took the time to detail each and every possible way he could meet his downfall through Quidditch, some of which were too gruesome to think about.
She didn't understand. Yes, he knew it was improbable that he would have his contract renewed if he lost even one game. Yes, he knew that springing for professional Quidditch could be dangerous if he should get some kind of injury and could never fly again. Yes, he knew that crazy fans and rabid reporters could ruin him. But he didn't care. He loved to fly, and it was the only thing that he could imagine himself doing, day in and day out. Sitting behind a desk and filling out paperwork would get boring fast. Aurors had to do paperwork, healers had to do paperwork, and creature handlers had to do paperwork. The most paperwork he would ever have to do as a Quidditch player would be medical forms.
Katie had come looking for him. Quidditch practice had been scheduled for over an hour earlier. Oliver didn't believe in basking in victory for more than twelve hours. Katie didn't know where he had come up with that rule, but he fiercely abided by it. Harry had been "busy", Angelina had been off daydreaming, Alicia sat giggling with Fred and George, and Lee was nowhere to be found. Katie had been the only person to show up for practice, and Oliver himself hadn't been ready.
"What are you thinking about?" Katie inquired timidly. Whatever it was, it didn't seem pleasant.
He exhaled slowly. "Have you ever known that something might be impossible, but you still wish for it all the same?"
"Yes," She said honestly. "All the time."
"What do you do to convince yourself to let it go?"
"I don't." She smiled warmly at him. "Makes life more interesting."
"But what if believing in it still just makes the truth worse?" He persisted.
She mulled this over. "Then I get hurt. Who really decides on the truth, anyway?"
He fell silent, contemplating. Truth was a big umbrella that covered all sorts of little inconsequential things. Oliver felt his current situation was just slightly out of reach from that umbrella.
"Wood! Bell!"
The two lions turned to find Burbage waving her arms wildly about. Katie would have laughed if not for the distressed look on the professor's face.
"There you two are! Come on, we have to get back to the Common Room immediately," She panted.
"Why? What's going on?" Katie asked.
"There's been another incident. The Headmistress and Professor Sinistra have been petrified, as well as a prefect." Burbage hiked up her robes to walk more quickly.
"Which prefect?" Oliver asked, a sense of dread filling him.
She grimaced. "Percy Weasley."