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Chapter Twenty-Nine: Forecast for the Future

"Oliver, really I haven't any opinion on the matter. You've told me time and time again that you think we've the advantage over Hufflepuff, however, I don't know. I honestly haven't an opinion. Unless you want me to just say that we'll win and shut you up?" I whispered harshly to him as we rushed through the hallways. The first day back in classes after Christmas break was quite refreshing, because a felt safer at school than at home, and it was the beginning of a new year.

He chuckled at this as we turned another corner," Please do."

"You're going to win. You haven't anything to worry about" I said, looking straight into his brown eyes for a brief moment before looking ahead. We were probably going to be late no thanks to him.

"I wish you meant that" he said partially serious as we came to the door for Defense Against the Dark Arts. He grabbed the door for me as I strolled into the class, seconds away from being late. He slid in after me and instantly flew off to his desk in the back. I walked to the front, swallowing hard as I looked around at everyone else already seated.

I tried to avoid his eye. As I sat down, it hit me who was really in this room with me. I felt another chill running down my spine as I pulled open my book and turned it to the page number written on the board. I could feel Professor Quirrell's eye on me, but I avoided it for as long as I possibly could. It wasn't long before he was standing in front of me with a weak smile on his thin lips.

"H-h-have a good break, Lana?" He asked, his lip quivering as he did.

I looked at my desk, picking at my nails before looking up at him," Yes Sir. Did you as well?"

"O-of course, Miss Stockholm," He stuttered, folding his arms over his chest. "H-h-h-how is your m-m-mother doing?"

I almost didn't say anything. I just sat there in silence and refused to answer the question, but I leaned back in my chair and looked at the ground as I answered his question, "Fine."

"Ah. Good." He said with a smile on his face once more as he turned to his blackboard to begin his class.

I nearly sighed out of relief, but held it in. He hadn't a clue how difficult it was to speak to him. Or rather, perhaps he did. Maybe that was his reasoning for even acknowledging me. I bit down hard on my lip and flipped through the pages of my book, trying to find something to focus on. For the whole of the lesson, I wasn't paying attention at all. I was far too distracted by who he really was and what lay behind that tall turban of his.

It was for this reason that when he called on me to answer a question, I was entirely caught off guard.

"Ah, Miss Stockholm, would you mind t-t-t-telling us what the blood of a unicorn does?" He asked, stopping right in front of my desk with his hands folded together.

I swallowed hard, coming out of my daze, "Unicorns? That seems to be irrelevant to Defense Against the Dark Arts."

The class began to chuckle slightly at this as I tried to search my memories for how a unicorn would relate to the topic at hand. Seeing as I had no idea what the topic was either, I was basically out of luck. I looked around frantically trying to find someone to provide an explanation or reason for why we were suddenly speaking of unicorns.

"Miss Stockholm, h-h-have you heard a-a-any of my lecture today?" He asked, still with a slight stutter, but not nearly as broken as it normally was.

"Uh-"

"We are t-t-talking about the creatures that lie within f-f-forests. It is our special unit of the s-s-semester in which we s-s-speak of something other than casting spells against dark m-m-magic. I've given a lot of information today, but it seems as though you've f-f-f-failed to take note of anything. For the r-r-r-record, a unicorn is not classified as a dark creature, however, the b-b-b-blood of a unicorn, when drank, can bring a dark, c-c-c-cursed life upon an individual. In fact, it isn't much of a life at all. P-p-probably smart to write that down," He stated to me before pulling his cape around him and strolling to the other side of the class continuing with his lecture.

I furrowed my brow for a moment, wondering why he was taking time to call me out directly, but I tried to put it aside and made a special note of it on my paper.

In a matter of seconds, the bell was ringing to signal the end of class. Almost immediately, I pulled myself out of my chair and tucked my hair behind my ear, embarrassed at what had just happened. As I was leaving, Oliver met up with me in the back of the class; his books tucked under his arm.

"What was that about, eh?" He asked, teasingly elbowing me.

I rolled my eyes, "I, uh, just wasn't paying attention. You know Defense Against the Darks Arts isn't always the most entertaining class."

"I know, but you? Not paying attention in class? That's madness, Lana," He commented as we exited the class, laughing much more than me.

I could have told him the real reason why I wasn't paying attention, but it didn't seem appropriate for this moment. No, that would be for a much later time.

"Well, remember it because it may not happen again for a while" I said finally.

For the rest of my fourth year, I enjoyed the company of my friends and those around me. Life in the Gryffindor house was relatively natural and did not consist of a lot of drama. The Quidditch season was successful, which put Oliver in a better mood, and by the end of the year, Harry Potter was a star in both Quidditch and wizardry itself. All of the stories we had heard of him were true when we discovered it was he who was able to defeat Lord Voldemort who had taken residence in Professor Quirrell. Of course, I also discovered this later from other sources, but Harry was deemed a hero for protecting our school from evil. He was, indeed, the 'Boy Who Lived' and also a boy who I owed a lot to. He obviously has a larger debt to settle with the Dark Lord, but in protecting the Sorcerer's Stone and keeping Quirrell from using it, he also protected me from having to deal with the Dark Lord at a much younger age than what I should have.

During that summer, I was able to split my time between my grandparents and with Oliver's family. Just as any other relationship at this age went, it was more about being friends than much of anything else. Oliver and I couldn't have had more different interests, but somehow we offset one another. Over the course of that summer, I learned all there was to know about Quidditch and how disgusting Marcus Flint was off of his broomstick, as well. Though the second, I had developed much of myself. Not only did Oliver teach me about Quidditch and I mastered the art of flying (well, perhaps not mastered, but I came rather close to being able to hold my own), but I was able to teach him a little more about Potions. Of course, he found the subject to be slightly more interesting than before, but his opinion of it was the same as my opinion of Quidditch in that it was not my 'cup of tea', so to say.

Also in this time, it was inevitable that I had to tell Oliver a little bit about my family. I simply left the details at my parents' divorce, but he at least knew that all was not well in the Stockholm family. At this point in time, to tell him anymore would have been foolish on my part. His family, on the other hand, was spectacular and certainly a place I felt comfortable in.

Both his mother and father had attended Hogwarts around the same time as my parents. They only had heard of each other really, neither had been very close to the other.

Oliver's father was precisely how I imagined him to be. He was equally, if not more, obsessed with Quidditch than his son was. The tall, lanky man with dark brown hair, and seemed to be the only person who could talk about it for the longest time. He was interesting, however I found that his wife was much more relaxed. Oliver's mother was very short with warm chestnut-colored eyes that invited you into conversation with her. Her hair was cut short, but styled very sleekly. Though opposites from appearance, the both of them certainly shared a thick Scottish accent.

Their home was a cozy little place that had a lake right behind it. I spent many nights and days sitting on its shore, watching the sun reflect off of the sparkling water. How nice it felt to have the warmth of the sun beaming down on me while my feet soaked in the cool, glimmering water. Sometimes, I would sit there alone to think, but at other times I found myself surrounded by one member of the Wood family. While sitting there, it was easy to forget about everything else going on at home. In fact, those memories were so distant from me at the time that I hardly considered them a part of me.

"So, Lana, I have to ask you this..." Mrs Wood commented as she sat beside me, it was one of the bright sunny days when sat next to the lake. "What exactly made you want to spend time with Oliver?"

I smiled as he and his father flew overhead on their broomsticks, throwing back and forth a quaffle, chatting just as we were, "I volunteer in the hospital wing, and I saw quite a bit of him there. Also, he was in my Potions class and I had to-"

"Help him out?" She asked, raising one of her brows and nudging me slightly. "Dear, I may be his mother, but I can say he isn't the most gifted child when it comes to schoolwork. Trust me, we've had this conversation many times."

I chuckled at this, "I only helped him a bit."

"Ah, modesty," She teased, rearing her head back to laugh more. "What a gem you are."

"I also have a lot of respect for your son. He's helped me out of some awkward situations with another boy at Hogwarts. I owe him a lot for that," I added, folding my arms over my chest.

"Aye, what exactly are you talkin' about? Surely, it's not the Marcus Flint, eh?" She asked, looking straight at me.

I broke her eye contact and focused on the shimmering water, "Let's just say, Flint and I don't have a pristine history."

"Well, dear, our families don't necessarily get along either. Believe it or not before Oliver and you began 'dating', Oliver told us all about Flint pestering you, seemed to have bothered him a lot. Doesn't surprise me that he protected you. He and Flint would probably go at each other's throats if it weren't looked down upon socially."

I laughed aloud at this comment before shaking my head in disbelief of what she had just said, "He's a good guy."

She bit down on her lip as she looked up, watching as he took a nose dive toward the lake on his broom, pulling up just before he splashed into the water, "You're such a lovely girl Lana. I want you to know that you can talk to me, or any of us about anything. I hope you will find us as people to confide in… especially with your mum and dad going through a split. That's what I really came out here to tell you."

At this point, I could feel my heart telling me to say something. It was certainly the opportune moment for something profound or meaningful to come out, but all I did was nod my head in understandment. If there was any moment I would have done over in my life, it was this moment. It was while that I was sitting next to Mrs. Wood when she poured her heart out to me.

"Thank you, Mrs Wood" I answered with a small smile on my face.

She nodded to me before pushing herself up from the ground, "Well dear, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but tomorrow we've got to get school supplies. Your fifth year at Hogwarts will be starting soon."

Just after we had finished gathering our textbooks for the year, I found my hand being interwoven with Oliver's as he drifted toward the Quality Quidditch Supplies store. Mentally, I may have been protesting, but there certainly was no way that I would argue this time. He had already had to listen to me nearly drool over all the new Potions books available this year.

"Nimbus 2001," Oliver commented with a sigh as we strolled into the front door of the store. "She's a beauty."

I chuckled at this, trying to stifle it under my breath, but he looked at me with a raised brow," You find something humorous, Miss Stockholm?"

"No, no of course not. Don't mind me," I spluttered, trying to hold in my laughs at his stereotypical interests, but failing miserably. "She's a beauty?"

He nudged my shoulder playfully before shaking his head," You don't understand, you see-"

"Oliver!" A younger girl's voice called from a couple of aisles down.

The dark haired girl I recognized to be Katie Bell came strolling down the aisles of the store, seemingly thrilled to be in the presence of her Quidditch Captain. Oliver smiled as she came closer and looked her straight in the eye, "Katie. How are you? Have you been practicing over the summer. I presume you have?"

"Oliver, that's not the first question you ask someone for crying out-" I started to protest, but she immediately shook her head, objecting.

"Oh, no, Lana. I really have been playing Quidditch…lots and lots of it. I've gotten pretty good if I do say so myself. You've been playing too, right Wood?" She asked, her eyes wide with interest at the sight of him.

I found myself to be a little out of place in this conversation. It was for this reason that I squeezed Oliver's hand to notion that I was going to step away. He looked at me briefly, nodding that he understood before I slid my hand out and began to wander the aisles of the store. There were many, many aisles to wander, as well. There were Quaffles, snitches, beater's bats, bludgers, and various sorts of robes. It truly was a wonder how much I had learned in one summer spent with the Woods.

As I wandered about minding my own business, I didn't realise that there was someone else I knew in the store as well.

"Oy, you're from Hogwarts, right?" A white-blonde headed kid chiped in several seconds after I picked up one of the specialty snitches from its box.

Slowly, I placed the box down before meeting the kid's bright blue eyes," Yes, I am."

"Lana? Lana Stockholm?" He asked, raising a brow.

From the tone of his voice, I could tell this child was spoiled. Though he wore no green, Slytherin didn't seem to seep from his skin at all. His bright blue eyes and white-blonde hair should have given away his identity, but I did not immediately make the connection.

"Yes, and you-?"

"Draco Malfoy," He spat out, taking several steps closer to me. "Surely, we've met before."

"Perhaps, but-"

"Draco!" A voice cried, much deeper than the others in the store. It took several moments, however, a tall, slender man turned the corner. His hair was long and the same shade as Draco's, leaving me to believe it could be none other than Mr Malfoy. I couldn't help but find him to be extremely familiar from somewhere, but his presence and the piercing blue eyes of his was enough to make me feel uneasy. When he swiftly turned the corner, with his cane that had an embellished snake head was held in front of him. His eyes settled directly on me, sending an uneasiness over me.

"Why, what do we have here?" He drawled in a dry, monotone voice, taking several steps toward me. "Surely, not Miss Lana Stockholm."

"Mr. Malfoy, I assume?" I asked, raising a brow as he came closer yet.

"Oh yes, of course. We have met before, but I find it strange. Your mother has been wishing to see you for quite some time now. Surely, you have contacted her, "He asked, trying to sound concerned, but I took it more for sarcasm.

My gaze shifted to the ground, "I have not."

He gasped, as if truly shocked, "I know if Draco were to run away, then I would like to know where he was."

"Surely, you understand the situation well enough, Mr. Malfoy to know that I did not run away. I was taken away by the ministry. Now, as lovely as it has been to speak with you, I must be getting back to-"

I was only turning to leave when I felt his long, thin, bony hand grab my arm to force me to listen to him. Immediately, he pulled me closer to him so that he was nearly whispering right into my ear, "If you think that hiding behind others is the way to keep you safe-"

"Lana?" Oliver's voice came from the end of the aisle.

Malfoy's eyes glanced up for a moment to see Wood standing at the edge of the aisle, but he kept his grip firm and whispered harshly, "You're a fool. He's going to be coming for you any day, Miss Stockholm."

As soon as he was done, he let go of my arm with a shove, pulled his cape tightly around him before beckoning for his son to follow. I was left standing there only with the chills running down my back from the words he had just spoken.

A/N: Thanks for the feedback and for reading! Another thanks to littlegreeneyes for proofreading