For the next week or so, the members of the Slytherin Quidditch team seemed to avoid Gwen altogether, turning back the other way when they spotted her in the corridors. When they were forced to endure her presence, such as in class, they averted their eyes and kept quiet. A small smile always crept across Gwen's lips at their fear.

September rolled into October, bringing with it a cold dampness. Despite her efforts to remain warm and dry, Gwen caught a cold. She tried to ignore it, but it only worsened. Finally, Oliver dragged her to the hospital wing one evening for Madam Pomfrey's Pepperup potion.

Clearly she was not the only one to be sick. Many of the staff and students also fell ill, keeping the nurse busy. Gwen felt better immediately after taking the potion, but Oliver laughed at the steam pouring out of her ears for the next several hours.

"It looks like your head is on fire," he chuckled.

"You're lucky you're not sick," she told him. "All that practicing you do in the rain should at least give you a runny nose."

"But I have to practice in the rain," Oliver protested, as though she had just told him he wasn't allowed to. "We may have to play in the rain."

"Would you calm down? Don't get so excited," Gwen teased. "I didn't say you had to stop- like you would listen anyway- I just said it's a wonder you don't get sick."

"Oh. Well, it looks like you're done here. Let's go to dinner." They took seats in the Great Hall under a cloudy ceiling, across from Fred and George, who were looking drenched and muddy. Their red hair drooped over sullen faces.

"We've been watching the Slytherins practice," Fred admitted.

"Bad news, Wood," George said. The twins shook their heads sadly, obviously not wanting to relay the information.

Finally, Fred continued. "Those Two Thousand Ones are too fast. The Slytherins were just seven greenish blurs."

"They fly like missiles," George added.

Oliver stiffened with grim determination. "Just because they're fast doesn't mean they're good. They still aren't as skilled as we are. We'll just have to train even harder."

"Harder?" the twins yelped in disbelief. They took a look at Oliver's set jaw and quickly returned to their meal. Gwen let Oliver mull it over for the rest of dinner, giving him some space until they returned to the common room.

"I hate it when you're tense like this," Gwen told Oliver as he plopped down in a chair by the fire. He shrugged her hands away when she reached out to rub his shoulders. "Let me give you a massage, you've got me all wound up again." He let her touch him the second time, allowing her to knead his shoulders until they both felt relaxed.

"You're good at that," he said, pulling her hands to his chest so her head rested next to his.

"What can I say? It benefits both of us." She kissed his cheek. "We better get started on homework. Want to start with History of Magic?"

Oliver groaned in response. "Can go where it's more quiet then? There are too many people in here."

"The library then." He meant his dorm, she knew, but he conceded to the library, following Gwen sulkily. She chose a table in the corner of the library, far from Madam Pince's desk, surrounded by bookshelves. "How's this?" she asked Oliver quietly, a small smile on her lips.

"I suppose it will be quiet enough," he muttered, digging his materials out of his bag. Gwen smiled again to herself as she retrieved her own parchment and quill, sitting opposite him at the table.

"Ugh, twelve inches of parchment on giants whose names I can't keep straight," Gwen complained. "I mean, I like history, but Binns... he just drones on and on and on."

"How big do you think I could write without making him suspicious?" Oliver asked, looking at his inadequate notes. Some words dragged out; the letters ran together as though he were falling asleep. He probably did. "Uh... can I see your notes?" Gwen pushed the requested papers across the dark wooden table with a smile. They weren't quite complete, but much more than Oliver had and easier to read.

Even with the combined effort, they both ended up two-and-a-half inches short. They were careful to use their own wording and order. Realizing that they were in a library, Gwen and Oliver headed off in search of useful information.

They finished by eight thirty, somehow managing not to annoy Madam Pince with their quiet laughter. Was she easier on the older students in N.E.W.T. level classes? Gwen found that hard to imagine.

"I want to show you something tomorrow," Oliver said suddenly.

"Show me what?" Gwen raised an eyebrow, wondering what he could have to show her.

"It's a surprise."

"And I have to wait until tomorrow?"

"Yup."

"So why did you tell me about it now? You know it's going to drive me crazy."

"I know." He grinned devilishly, still walking down the corridor when Gwen stopped. She ran to catch up with him, annoyed at his amusement.

"What time tomorrow?" she asked, only a hint of a whine in her voice.

"You'll have to wait and see." He laughed and shook his head, leading her to Gryffindor Tower.

Gwen bugged Oliver for hints of the surprise all through breakfast the next morning, but he wouldn't give anything away. Gwen thought it a shame the bond didn't allow her to read his mind. He shushed her in Herbology, urging her to pay attention to Professor Sprout. They had a free period before lunch, so she tried to hang on until then.

"C'mon, Gwen," Oliver beckoned as they left Greenhouse Four. "Obviously you won't be able to wait until later, so I might as well show you now." He stuck his tongue out at her, but she ignored it and eagerly followed him to the castle.

He stopped in an empty corridor, telling her to stand aside while he paced between a tapestry and a statue. He appeared to be deep in thought. When he stopped, a door appeared where before there was nothing. "Ladies first," he said sweetly, bowing and making a sweeping gesture with his arm.

"What's in there?" Gwen asked curiously.

"Open the door and see." He gave her a reassuring smile when she turned the knob and opened the door. Upon entering the small, windowless room, she first noticed a warm fire. There were a couple of overstuffed sofas, two desks, some tables, bookcases, and a kitchenette.

"What is this place?" she asked, sinking into a couch.

"Just some little study room Fred and George told me about," he said nonchalantly, closing and locking the door. He wasn't telling her everything, but Gwen stretched out on the couch. Why would Fred and George of all people have a secret study room?

"Comfortable?" Oliver chuckled, sitting on the edge of the sofa.

"Yes, actually." She pulled him down on top of her, kissing him.

"Will you meet me here for dinner?" he asked.

"Why would we eat in here? And how would we get our food here without someone noticing? Why do I have to meet you? Can't we just come together after class?"

"You ask too many questions," he laughed, and stopped her before she could ask anything else. "After Transfiguration, I want you to go to your dorm and change out of your uniform, and then meet me back here. The door should be visible."

"What should I wear?" she asked after considering his instructions. He smiled.

"You look great in anything, but wear something nice."

They stayed there for lunch, making sandwiches in the kitchenette. The time crawled through Transfiguration, and Gwen became more and more anxious to leave. Professor McGonnagal had to call her attention several times. Luckily, she completed her assignment and didn't need any extra practice. She gave Oliver a quick kiss before heading to her dorm to change.

Gwen dug through the small selection of Muggle clothing in her trunk, looking for something "nice." She settled on a black skirt that hit just below the knee; a black, sleeveless, v-neck shirt; and beaded black flats. She pulled her hair into an elegant bun, swept silver eye shadow over her lids, and applied black eyeliner. In order to avoid notice, she put her robes back on over her clothes, just as her roommates entered to drop off their bags before dinner.

"Somebody's all dressed up," Angelina said. "Where are you going?"

"Dinner," Gwen answered cautiously.

"Oh, I love the shoes," Alicia said.

"You look a little over-dressed for dinner in the Great Hall," Angelina continued. "Unless that's not where you're going..." Gwen opened her mouth but closed it quickly.

"Is it a date with Oliver?" Alicia teased. Gwen's cheeks colored and she fought a grin. Katie was being oddly quiet...

"Well, I don't want to be late," Gwen said and slipped out the door. Luckily, everyone was in a rush to dinner, so no one else paid attention to her makeup or shoes. As promised, the door was in place. She checked her hair before turning the knob.

Gwen gasped. The room before her bore little resemblance to the "study room" she saw earlier. The fireplace was on the wall opposite the door instead of the one adjacent. The kitchenette, bookcases, and desks were gone, and instead there was one long, leather sofa in front of the fireplace.

"Over here." She turned her head to the right, hand still on the doorknob. Oliver stood next to a small, round table, covered with a white tablecloth and set for two. "Come in and close the door." She did as he instructed, turning the lock, and hung her robe on a coat rack that suddenly appeared.

Gwen noticed that Oliver had changed his clothes, now wearing a black crew neck sweater and khakis. A candle stood on either side of a rose on the table. She walked toward him slowly and he pulled out her chair. "What...?" She could barely form words.

"Welcome to the Room of Requirement. Basically, you think of what you want, and it appears. Compliments of Fred and George. You're absolutely stunning." He kissed her cheek after pushing in her chair and placing a cloth napkin in her lap.

"Thanks," Gwen managed. A bottle appeared in a bucket of ice and Oliver took it, popping the cork. She read the label as he poured. "Sparkling white grape juice?"

"Only the best for you." He winked and she laughed, one of his favorite sounds. Finally, he took his own seat.

"So, what's for dinner?" The smile on Gwen's lips transferred a sparkle to her eyes.

"Whatever you would like, my lady."

"You... are amazing. Truly amazing." He is so getting some tonight.

"I try." Oliver flashed her a grin and a steak appeared in front of him with a few vegetables on the side. After a few moments of thought, Gwen decided on veal parmesan and mashed potatoes.

"So what gave you this idea?" she asked halfway through the meal.

"Well, I wanted to take you out, but we can't really leave the grounds much. There isn't really anywhere suitable in Hogsmeade so... Fred and George came to the rescue."

Once full, Gwen carried her wine glass of grape juice to the sofa, snuggling in with Oliver. "I knew there was a reason I love you." She started kissing him and got rid of her glass, imagining something else in the room. He looked over at the bed and smiled.

-------------------------------------------------

"Hurry up, we only have twenty minutes to get to the tower before curfew," Gwen said worriedly, pulling her hair back into its neat bun. She grabbed her shirt and stuffed her head into it. Oliver was still in the bed, the satin sheets at his hips- a nice addition on Gwen's part- lounging with his hands behind his head.

"Gimme a break; I'm tired." He stretched; the sheet slipped dangerously.

"Oliver." She tried to give him a stern look, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Finding his uniform (he had conjured the other clothes from the Room of Requirement), she tossed it onto the bed. "We can't be caught in the corridors after curfew."

Gwen turned to the coat rack for her robes and finally Oliver got out of bed to dress.

"You're draining my energy," he complained teasingly. "Not that I can think of a better way to lose it."

"Not even Quidditch?" He paused to ponder this question for a moment, buttoning his shirt.

"Well, that's different," he said slowly. "I don't feel so sleepy after Quidditch." Gwen chuckled at his answer. "All right, we can go now." Gwen cast one last look around the room before leaving, stepping out into a thankfully empty corridor. The door disappeared, leaving a blank stone wall.

"How does the Room of Requirement work, exactly? How do you get into it?" Gwen asked.

"You have to walk back and forth in front of the wall there three times while thinking about what you want. For example, a study room or a place for a romantic dinner," he replied with a roguish smile.

"Wattlebird," Gwen told the Fat Lady when she reached the secret entrance to Gryffindor's common room. She looked down at the young couple with a knowing smile.

"You're just in time. Two minutes to curfew," she giggled and swung open.

The next day in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Gwen tried to sift through Professor Lockhart's narcissistic babble to find the heart of the lesson. And she hadn't really found anything educational in any of his books, yet she had to buy the complete set. How did this guy ever get hired? The class was supposed to be learning how to perform nonverbal spells, but he only talked about how he used them to accomplish various feats. Oliver stopped paying attention long ago and started working out a new Quidditch strategy.

"Now, now, Mr. Wood, you need not take notes on this. It's all in my books," Lockhart said roguishly. Oliver gave him a look of mild disgust that was mistaken as a sheepish smile. Class was almost over and they hadn't practiced at all.

The next few weeks slipped away until finally Halloween arrived. Gwen hadn't been watching Quidditch practices because of the rain. That and the fact that she tended to be a distraction, causing Oliver to eventually conceal the bond whenever he headed to the Pitch. Gwen sat next to Oliver at the Halloween feast, thinking back to last year. In her mind's eye, she saw Professor Quirrel bursting into the hall to announce the presence of a troll. Of course, it turned out that he had Lord Voldemort on the back of his head and let the troll in himself. Gwen felt Oliver put a hand on her leg and he shot her a questioning look.

"It's nothing; I'm fine." She gave him a reassuring smile.

At the end of the feast, everyone left the Great Hall. Gwen's full belly made her rather sleepy. When she reached the second floor, the crowd came to a stop. Beside her, Oliver was trying to look over people's heads to see what was going on. Whispers of Harry Potter began to trickle through the crowd.

"I can't see anything," Oliver said, his brow furrowed.

"Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!" someone yelled from the front. A Slytherin, by the sound of it.

"Enemies of the Heir? What is he talking about?" Now Gwen stood on the balls of her feet in attempt to see the front, but she was too far back. Filch pressed his way through the crowd and started shrieking that someone had killed his cat, Mrs. Norris. He was blaming someone, but Gwen couldn't see whom. It wasn't long before Professor Dumbledore arrived on the scene.

After a few moments, Professor Dumbledore swept through the crowd, followed by several teachers. In front of him, he carried Mrs. Norris, who looked as though she had been stuffed. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were with him. Slowly the crowd moved forward, and a murmur spread.

"The Chamber of Secrets."

"The Chamber of Secrets?"

"The Chamber of Secrets!"

Oliver tugged on Gwen's hand. "Let's go see." She stood her ground, shaking her head.

"I don't want to." Her voice was shaky and she licked her lips nervously. "I don't want to. It doesn't feel right. Let's just go back to the common room. Please?" Hearing the pleading tone in her voice, Oliver automatically hugged her.

"All right," he said, stroking her hair. With an arm around her waist, he led her up the many flights of stairs to Gryffindor Tower.

The common room was full to capacity. Gwen and Oliver ended up sitting on a table in the corner of the room. The Chamber of Secrets was on everyone's lips, but no one seemed to know what it was. And "enemy of the heir," what did that mean? Speculations abound, and rumors of Slytherin's monster began to spread from the mouths of older students. Tired of the talk, Gwen went to bed and fell into an uneasy sleep, fleeing from some faceless terror in her dreams.

She ran through silent corridors driven by fear. Something was wrong. She turned corners, passed through empty classrooms, looking for a safe haven. She could tell that safety was just ahead, almost within her grasp. Suddenly, she spotted Oliver in the middle of the hallway ahead; he beckoned to her. He held out a hand and she reached for him. She could sense her pursuer right behind her. Their fingers touched, he pulled her to him, and the terror evaporated.

Gwen sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. Just a dream. Her roommates were still asleep, and after a few minutes of thought she slipped out of bed. Careful not to wake the girls, she opened the door slowly and stole down the stairs. Tip-toeing through the empty common room, she reached the boys' stairs and started climbing.

Finding the sixth years' dorm, Gwen silently opened the door and walked over to Oliver's bed. His curtains were open and he was stretched out on his back in a deep sleep. Gwen reached out a hand and touched his chest, shaking him gently. "Oliver," she whispered as she leaned closer to him. He muttered something and grabbed her wrist lightly before opening his eyes.

"Gwen, what are you doing in here?" he asked groggily, sitting up.

"I can't sleep," she told him, keeping her voice down. "Now move over and let me in; I'm freezing." She shivered and rubbed her arms to rid them of goose bumps as she climbed into the bed. After closing the curtains, she settled down under the covers with Oliver to get warm.

"What's wrong?" Oliver asked. "Hey, would you hurry up and lie still? I can't have you rubbing against me like that with the guys in the room."

"I'm trying to get comfortable and warm." She finally stopped moving, ending up on her side with Oliver's chest to her back in order for them both to fit comfortably on the twin bed. "It was just a bad dream. Much better now."

"You sure?"

"Yeah; go to sleep."