Breathe in. I closed my eyes, concentrating on the swoosh of air going in, coming out. My eyelids swum dizzily, a pulsating shade of orange mingled with red from the bright sunlight. I focused on the gentle breeze rolling off the lake and swirling around me like a comforting safety blanket. I drank in the connection my bare feet felt with the ground, the grass, through the thin material of my yoga mat, feeling much as a tree would, its roots fixated to the earth, sucking up water.

Breathe out.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Okay, so maybe it seems like I'm a little bit out of my mind. I mean, honestly; getting up at seven in the morning, bright and early, on a Saturday to do yoga? Yep, maybe a little. But then again, I really really want that position on the Quidditch team. Better start getting in shape if I mean business, you know?

Alright, alright, so seeing as how this is me, it'll last for maybe three days max. Before I give up my whole yoga-get-in-shape routine. But – how else will I find an excuse to wear my favourite Lululemon yoga pants my mom brought back from Canada for me? Because, let me just say, damn they make my butt look hot.

And I'm not even bragging about it.

Besides, they were super comfortable and felt so beautifully sleek, wrapped around my thighs, my knees, my calves; the tips of pants barely grazing the tops of my feet... okay, now that sounds almost inappropriately dirty.

I brought one foot up to rest it against the opposite thigh, and then clasped my palms in front of my chest, still with my eyes closed. There's something very serene about this, balancing on one foot early on a Saturday morning while everybody else is still up at the castle, asleep. And the sound of the waves lapping against the shore is somehow reassuring.

"Norah!"

Oh, piss. My eyes shot open at the unexpected interruption. And of course I toppled over onto the grass. Luckily I landed on my wrist and saved my previous pants from a serious grass stain. Except now my wrist hurt like hell.

I glared upwards, trying to find the source of this unwanted interruption.

Greta bounced up to me on the balls of her feet, perfectly manicured toenails peeking out from her flip flops. "Hey, Norah. Can we—can we talk?"

I sat up on my yoga mat, and then scooted over so she could join me. "Sure," I grumbled a little unwillingly. "Gosh, you could've given me a little more warning, Greta. Or at least not scared me like that."

At least she had the decency to look sheepish. "Sorry." Her hands reached up and gathered her multi-toned blond hair into a quick and messy bun. A bun which still managed to look dashingly beautiful. Might as well have been born a Veela, my gosh.

I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around my knees and feeling kind of insignificant in my plain white tank top. Especially beside some blonde demi-goddess like Greta. But at least I had my Lululemon pants to console me.

Greta ripped up a blade of grass and began shredding it between her fingers, the juice dying her fingers an unsightly shade of green. It looked so wrong, against her pale skin and perfectly co-ordinated nails. In fact... the sight of her looking so desolate in general seemed kind of wrong.

"It's okay," I said at last. "What's up?"

"I just... I just needed someone to talk to."

"Yeah, and you couldn't talk to any of your friends?" I asked. Okay, so maybe that was a little harsh. But I mean, other than recently becoming stepsisters, in which we really had no say anyway, we didn't exactly have a claim to each other.

"Well, I kind of wanted to talk about Sirius, and couldn't really find a way to bring that up with them..." she trailed off uncertainly.

Gosh, where did that Hufflepuff loyalty go?

"Sirius? What do you want to talk about that annoying git face for?"

She looked at me annoyed. "Don't call him that."

Okay, there it was. I couldn't help it, and let out an indignant harrumph. "So, what happened between the two of you anyway?"

"It's... kind of complicated."

Damn, what was wrong with this girl? Why me? Oh why me, Merlin, why did I have to get stuck with such an annoying stepsister? I mean, I barely know this chick, and now not only did she want to talk about her crummy ex-boyfriend, she was now... not talking about her ex-boyfriend?

Girls are so complex. Why couldn't I have been born a boy? Sweet Circe...

"Well, are you going to tell me or not?" I asked impatiently. I was being a little short with her, sure, but can you blame me? I mean, considering the way she interrupted my perfectly beautiful morning? And besides, who gets up this early on a Saturday to talk anyway?

Her eyebrow puckered slightly in distaste at my lack of sensitivity. "Yeah," she said a little defensively. She sniffed. Rubbed her nose with her right hand. Picked at her left thumbnail. Chewed her left pinky. Brushed the stray hairs off of her forehead and behind her ears.

"Greta – get on with it, please. I'd like to have some breakfast sometime before noon, if that's alright with you?" At her somewhat dejected expression, I mentally berate myself a little. Why am I being such an impatient bitch to her today? "Sorry, I didn't mean it. Take your time."

"No, no, it's okay – I'll try to just spill it." She rubbed the tip of her delicate, slightly upturned nose again. "So the other night, we were hanging out in the Gryffindor Common Room – this was before curfew, Norah, don't worry – and me and Sirius were on the loveseat while Peter, Remus and James played Exploding Snap. And... I don't know, it was just so comfortable, and I couldn't stop myself."

After a heartbeat of silence, I prodded, "couldn't stop yourself from what?"

"I... I just blurted it out!"

"Blurted what out?"

"I mean, I can't even believe that I –"

"What did you say, Greta?" Damn, is the rest of this conversation going to be quite so roundabout as well? Because I'm not sure that I can take it, if it is.

"I told him that I loved him."

A sharp intake of breath. Oh, that was me. "No," I whispered. "Greta, you didn't." I paused. "So what happened after that?"

She sniffed. "Nothing. He didn't even look at me. Just kept looking at his friends like he didn't hear me. Except his buddies obviously heard, because they stopped playing and just stared at him. And all I could see was the side of his face turning bright red. Like he was embarrassed or something."

I sighed.

She continued. "And he didn't even acknowledge me, or the fact that I'd said something, despite the fact that we'd been cuddling moments before. And he'd been looking at me seconds ago. But, like, right in front of all his best friends, he just ignored me. It was so embarrassing!"

"I take it that this was what you meant yesterday by 'public humiliation'?"

Greta nodded her head vigorously, blonde hair cascading around her hair and shimmering like a halo with the movements of her not-so-bright noggin. "Yeah. So I just got up and ran out of the Common Room."

"Good on you – you don't need the likes of him."

"He ran out after me..."

Ugh, why was Greta such a weakling? I wanted to throttle her. And tell her to strengthen up already. Or maybe I wanted the Giant Squid to come shoot up out of the lake and swallow one of us, so I wouldn't have to endure this torture any longer. Preferably her – I don't think a watery fate being squid food is exactly preferable.

"Then he 'broke up' with me. Which is really ironic, actually, because when I'd wanted us to be official, he'd been so opposed to it. Like apparently we weren't actually 'serious', and he wanted to keep it mainly low key."

"Oh." I mean, what do I say to that? "Well, I guess it's all worked out for the best now, then, hasn't it?"

"Then last night, after they ran the Quidditch tryouts, he came and found me. Said he wanted to talk."

I reiterate – why was I stuck with a weakling, of all things?

"He apologized, said he didn't mean it. But he didn't want to get back together, no. Oh no, he wanted to be friends with benefits." She was bitter, definitely bitter, if you ask me.

"Oh no, Greta, you didn't."

She looked at me like I was stupid. "Of course not."

Oh. Wow. Wow. Really? Wasn't expecting that – guess maybe she's not quite as weak as I'd thought?

"Anyway, I gave him a piece of my mind just some really hot Ravenclaw girls rounded the corner into the corridor, and his entire deameanor changed. Tried to warp the situation to save face in front of them, I guess. So he goes, 'Greta, I'm really sorry and everything, but we are over. Honestly, being all clingy and needy isn't going to change anything, alright? I believe in monogamy, so I can't believe you were enough of a slut to cheat on me. I can't get over that.' And then he walked off to join the other girls."

Now I was just seeing red. Straight up red. "What. He. Called. You. A. Slut?"

She looked surprised. "Well, not directly and in quite so many words, but..."

I shot her an incredulous look. "Why aren't you more fired up about this? I'd be roaring damn pissed." I squeeze the edge of the mat between my toes, feeling the material compress and then bounce back. Strong.

"I am," she said. "And that's why I need your help." She had a sly look in her eyes. I really didn't like it.

"Oh no, oh no, Greta – there is no way that I'm going to help you try and get back together with him, alright? That is – I won't. Just putting that out there, right now."

She pooh-poohed at me. "Don't be absurd, Norah. What do you think I am, stupid or something?" Maybe a little, yeah. "No, no, I've got a much better idea. I want to publicly humiliate him as well."

I sighed deeply. She was hopeless. My stomach growled loudly in protest, clearly craving some sustenance. "Be still, beast," I chided, crossing my arms over my abs. "Honestly, Greta, it's really not worth it. Just let it go, okay?"

"No, no, I can't. It's not just for me, Norah – there are a few other girls in Hufflepuff; they've also all been messed with by Sirius. We have to get back at him. You know that movie, John Tucker Must Die? Well, we're taking a scene from that film."

What was she doing watching Muggle films? What a crazy kook. And isn't the saying, 'a page from that book'? "These things never end well... I would suggest not doing anything about it."

"But I need you!"

I looked at her, downright scandalized. "I am not getting involved!" I thought she just had some crazy plan – now she wanted me to participate as well? Wow, someone was definitely off her rocker.

"But we need to make him fall for you so that you can break his heart!"

"You shouldn't have gotten involved with such a player in the first place."

"Norah! Please."

My stomach grumbled again in protest. Damn. "I really need to get some breakfast, okay?" I made to get up, but she grabbed my wrist, clenching it in some massive death grip with those claws of hers. Who knew she had so much grip strength? I sure as hell didn't.

"I'll let you go if you agree."

"Greta – let go of my arm. I'm really hungry; come on, let's go get some breakfast."

"Norah, think of it – this is for the great good!"

"What greater good?" I snapped, getting a little annoyed now. "Let go of my arm."

She pouted up at me. "I'm not getting off your mat until you say yes."

"Then stay here all day, for all I care." I made leave, but her hand continued to restrain me.

When I looked back at her, she had a really triumphant gleam in her eyes. "I'm not letting go either."

Another huge gurgle emitted from my stomach. "Alright, alright, whatever, I'll do it, now let's go." I nudged her with my toe after she released my wrist. "Get off the mat so I can roll it up."

"Wait – I have to fix my lip gloss first." Was she for bloody serious? I guess so. She proceeded to take out a tube of shimmering red gloss, then applied it wetly to her lips, after offering it up to me. What audacity. I kneed her arm. She missed her lips and stabbed her nostrils with lip gloss.

Serves her right.

We rushed into the Great Hall at a mad dash. According to my time calculations, breakfast was almost over. And I really needed to grab some food before it was all cleared out! We scanned the crowded tables – both her house's and mine – for any empty seats.

"Norah!" a voice called out. It was James Potter. I grinned brightly and waved, then began weaving my way over to him. My heart started thudding against my rib cage. Was he going to mention the Quidditch tryouts? Greta followed me over.

"Hey James," I greeted.

"Norah – just the girl I wanted to see."

"What's with the mat?" asked Remus, indicating my rolled up pastel green yoga mat.

"I was just doing some early morning yoga," I said, smiling brightly at James. Hopefully he'd think I had dedication and flexibility and was just overall athletic.

"Norah," Greta murmured in my ear. I ignored her. She nudged my elbow. I continued to ignore her.

"Yoga?" asked James. "Hmm... I don't know if I've heard of that... but do those pants have anything to do with it?"

"Yeah, why?" I asked, reaching forward to grab a roll from the basket.

Greta wrenched me around to look at Peter. His eyes were fixated on something and his mouth was practically salivating. And it wasn't food.

Damn... was he looking at my arse? Oh my... he was!

"Peter – stop being such a perv!" said Remus, laughing as he caught the indignant expression on both my face and Greta's.

Peter's head shot up, embarrassed at getting caught. His mouth hung open, eggs spilling forth unattractively.

"Well, it's not Peter's fault," said Sirius. Wow, I hadn't noticed him brooding there. By the way her head whipped around, neither had Greta. Sirius didn't even bother to look at her. His words started to sink in... was that actually a disguised compliment? "She's kind of asking for it, wearing such provocative pants."

Right.

Git.