My dreamless sleep had been crowned with a merry morning. However, adopting the term 'merry' was not the best to describe my awakening, and maybe a little far from the truth, as 'frantic' seemed more fitting to the eye. My back, arms, neck, everything ached from the uncomfortable position I had been lying in, and as I came gradually into consciousness, the sounds grew more obnoxious. First was the alarm; that was the worst of them all, the piercing ring that vibrated around the room. Then came the radio, but I could barely hear what they were saying. I had come to accept the radio in the early morning, in fact I was rather fond of the Wireless Network News. The birds outside were faintly singing in my presence, however that sound was drowned significantly by the exasperated rumble of my two roommates.

They could not be anything other than Weasleys.

Finally, my sight had been restored from my sleep and I could somewhat tolerate the sunlight in my eyes.

"Coraline... Up for lesson... Don't go back to sleep again!" Said Molly, from what I could hear from her, after my eyes covered themselves once again from the early hours of the morning.

My arm had outstretched to feel for my alarm, but seconds later the sound had vanished, so I let my arm flop down over the side of the bed, my fingers running circles atop the twisted tufts of the carpet underneath me. My lips were forced vastly apart, eyes scrunching. I was yawning, terribly so, but my eyes kept firmly shut.

However, I felt a strong presence above me: my vision had progressively become darker and my eyes twitched, eager to see what was above. Only a moment later and two rough fingers were beginning to pry my eyes open. Unwillingly, I looked upwards and surely enough there was Dominique, displaying her petite frame above the broom of which she had lain casually upon, resting her head against the wood. The close proximity between her broom and I would have shocked me, concerned that she would fall, if it were not a reoccurring experience. Dominique smiled down rather proudly and retracted her hands back on her broom, to then lower herself diagonally from my bed and onto the floor neatly. They had both already dressed themselves.

"Morning Coraline." They both chimed, and I smiled back drowsily.

"Morning Molly, morning Dominique," I rubbed my eyes, squashing my face. "What is first lesson again?"

I was never one for remembering... much at all really, that was something I still needed to work on.

They laughed in sync, shaking their heads in my direction. Molly was next to speak up. "You mean, what is your first lesson? It's Potions, with James. If you even remember him!" she said, inspecting herself in the only mirror in our room. "You are amusing, Coraline."

Dominique lifted herself up from the floor and held her hand out in my direction. With an inflated exhale, I peered up to meet her hazel eyes and accepted her offer as she helped to lift me up from my bed. My feet met directly with the carpet: it felt rough, harsh on my skin, just like rubbing up against a plastered wall, and my reaction was to shiver in dissatisfaction.

I examined both of my roommates; they always looked so similar, it was a surprise that they weren't sisters, rather than cousins. I could not say their hair was ginger, as much as it was almost bronze, in a way, but both could be described as regal, especially compared to my lackluster head of hair. However, whereas Dominique's eyes were hazel, Molly's were blue; a quality she had inherited from her father, Percy. They were both shorter than me, but still an average height for their age, and both had freckles underlining their eyes, although Molly wore glasses so her freckles were partly hidden.

All in all, they were both extremely beautiful.

From outside, I could make out the faint outlines of students darting past the bedroom window, and I knew that Dominique had caught a glance, also. I could harshly hear them as they cheered for a male student flying his way over to the snitch. It had never been my passion to take up Quidditch, but that was far from the truth in regards to Dominique. Whereas she had grown a somewhat emotional devotion to the sport; I, however, had practiced Quidditch at a fairly young age and grown tired of it fairly quickly also. My father was proud of me for trying, but trying was never the standard I could live on. I wanted a life infused with a kind of gluttony for fun and adventure, or nothing at all.

A brisk click of Molly's finger had shot into my line of sight. "Dominique, don't you start with those constant daydreams. It's bad enough Coraline getting lost in her own mind all the time!" She looked over at us disapprovingly, but I knew now that she was only teasing.

"Don't be so callous, Molly," Dominique spat, but Molly only then eyed my profile to see I had grinned back at her, and as she mirrored my behaviour, we began to laugh gingerly. I had shifted my view to Dominique: the emotions that crossed over her face were a mix of perplexity and embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she almost breathed, chuckling, with a delicate yet unpleasant smile playing on her lips while she rubbed her temples. "I guess I got ahead of myself. It's the Gryffindor and Slytherin match this evening, it will be my first game of the year... Oh, did I not tell you?"

By the looks on our faces at that time, she knew what the answer was.

"When is it? We would love to cheer you on, right Molly? These games are much more civilised now anywa-" I was cut short by a booming voice appearing to the side of me.

"You should have told us sooner!" Cried Molly, moving hastily around the room; first with her head in her hands, then with a finger pointing at Dominique, then her arms flailing in the air. "We could have planned, designed banners, a cake, our own t-shirts, we could have prepared our cheers!"

I smirked wisely down at her. "Molly, as well as not being so callous, it would also benefit if you would calm down."

Dominique laughed in my favour, sarcasm ringing in every word as she said: "Yes, Molly, only a smidge."

Molly only reacted by planting her rear inelegantly on the bed, hands covering her head once again. "But Dominique, this is important to you. We want to see you do your best." She never flinched when her friend sat down beside her, gently kissing the top of her head.

"I know, and I love you both for that, but I will be just fine! Better than fine, actually, fantastic might I say!" Cheered Dominique, and I smiled along with her as I changed my attire rather hastily behind the screen. "I'm a Weasley, remember? We are fearless." I could see through the partial transparency of the screen that they were hugging each other.

With moments passing after I had organised my text books for the day, the screeching buzz of my alarm sounded five minutes until the first lesson of the day.

We all shared a look of panic and excitement, laughing embarrassingly as we rushed out of our bedroom. Being the last to depart, I closed the door behind me and raced back up to the two Weasley's. I tried not to look in the direction of Dominique, but the sleeve of her blouse had uncovered the permanent, and highly visible, marks from where her skin had been damaged, almost burnt or peeled off from a glance. I had seen it before, but the damage was substantial, and extremely painful to observe as a friend. Thus, I rushed over to her side and pulled her cuffs back over to avoid a commotion from the many other students passing by. She gazed upwards at me, smiled, and mouthed: "thank you."

~#~#~#~

I was one of the few students to enter late to Potions class that morning, taking my seat apprehensively next to James, trying to escape his mischievous grin. Yet, to no avail.

"You say it is frowned upon to be late, Coraline," said James cheekily, his dark blue eyes glowing. "So what caught your eye?"

My head stuck stiffly down. "Nothing, James, I just forgot th-"

"Longbottom, why don't you compensate for your lateness rather by not talking, and instead opening your text book to Golpallot's Third Law like the rest of your classmates?" Professor Slughorn stated jovially, but rather, I think he had meant to sound a little smugger. I carried my glance, and like usual, the majority of students around the classroom hadn't opened their text books.

I had heard James chuckle from my right.

It wasn't that Professor Slughorn disapproved of me; no, that was not his intentions. He was just plainly judgmental of students. However, I don't believe he would regard himself with that fairly unfavourable quality. No, he would say he was 'an influential figure for the right students', or something of the sort. And, while Slughorn was not the biggest fan of my father due to the recent, and somewhat random, rivalry between Potions and Herbology, for me that meant I was not the right student.

"Actually, class, we will practice the Volubilis Potion. Come on then, up on your feet!" He clapped with a power that pierced my ears, and then came the terrible sound of the screeching stools being pulled from their places.

While Professor Slughorn babbled on, James and I took our position in front of the two neighbouring Cauldrons, one table too far from the back of the classroom. We began to gather our ingredients, and while James was reading as little as possible of the instructions, I was far too forgetful to manage that.

I turned to see he was smiling at me already. Taken back, I looked cheerily puzzled at him, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

James answered first by smiling even wider at me, and I could faintly see his teeth. "You are too absent-minded, that's all."

"There shouldn't be anything wrong with being too much of something." I tried to defend myself. "I find it enhances one's character."

We both laughed, trying to concentrate on our potion also. "Okay then, Caroline. You are just absent-minded, but that is a very silly thing to be," said James while slicing a Valerian root into quarters.

I followed his actions. "I think this is just an extremely difficult class to master." Noticing I had sliced the root one too many times, I reached for another, and cursed.

James looked up hastily to meet my gaze. "Do you want me to tutor you? I'm feeling fairly confident in Potions this year."

"That is only because you don't try enough to know what confident really feels like," I teased, chuckling to myself.

"I'm serious, Caroline," replied James, with his face masked from any emotions. "We could start tonight, and we can still go through with my plan, too!"

I smiled apologetically in his direction. "I would love to, James."

My mind tried to concentrate earnestly on my potion, Stewed Mandrake is to be added next, at which point the potion turns orange, but became distracted by James' antics in my peripheral vision. He was scribbling nonsense down on a piece of parchment, of which I was curious, his face oozing with concentration, and partial giddiness.

I tapped his shoulder, to which he barely faltered. "What's that you're writing there?" No reply. "Bloody hell, James, what is so important?" My voice had raised slightly, and my face burned red as Professor Slughorn shushed me with a finger to his lips. "James!" I whispered, frustrated, and only a snort came from James as he laughed.

The bell had rung for the end of the lesson, and after I had left James to follow my classmates, he had caught up with me and stopped my retreating figure by placing a hand on my shoulder.

"Could I speak to you for a minute, Potter? Coraline, you can scurry off now." Professor Slughorn rushed his words, babbling like usual, and James nodded towards him.

James passed me the parchment. "Here," he said quietly. "Whatever you do, do not be late!" And with that, he returned to Professor Slughorn.

As I walked steadily down the corridor to the field, I unravelled the parchment and read what had been so important in the lesson.

Dear Caroline,

Eight thirty sharp; be there at the lily pond half a mile into the Forbidden Forest. It will be dark, so bring more than only your wand. However, I will paint a route there as I venture down.

Don't worry, Caroline, no one will see.

A few things I need from you to bring; a pouch or basket, or just something to store bits and bobs in; some form of sweets; a rug; an unused vile; and various suitable plants from your father's classroom.

And I know what you're thinking, you want to know why I wrote this. I knew you would forget.

Forever,

James Potter.