I continued moping for the next few days. I hardly joked with my friends and barely participated in any of my classes. I think even my professors were starting to get a little worried. I hadn't shown up for any tutoring sessions since that night. I didn't want to see Brom's face and think about those lipstick stains.
I was sitting at dinner pushing my vegetables around on my plate, my face propped up by one hand. I hadn't been paying attention to the conversation going on around me, so it wasn't a surprise when I didn't hear Emmett ask me something.
A fist slamming on the table brought me out of my reverie. "Bloody hell, Wren," Emmett growled. "I can't take it anymore. Your mood has been terrible the last few days."
My eyes flew open in shock and I'm sure I looked similar to a frightened owl. "Emmett, I'm sorry," I stuttered. "I didn't know it affected you that much."
"Of course it does!" he almost shouted. "I am sick of watching my two good friends miserable because they are so bloody stubborn that they won't just talk to each other. I can't stand being in the middle anymore."
I didn't get the chance to say another word because he had stood up and stormed out of the hall. I turned to look at my other friends who had matching grim expressions on their faces. Had I really been that bad? The look in Evelyn's eyes told me everything I needed to know. I had.
"Please excuse me," I muttered to them and got up from the table. I raced out of the hall, my thoughts whirring around my head. I needed to find Emmett and apologize. I felt like an absolute tool for making him feel that way. Then I needed to talk to Brom and sort this all out and—
"I suppose we messed up this time," Brom stated, standing a foot away from me. His hands were shoved in his trouser pockets, but the usual arrogant posture was gone.
"Yeah, I guess we did," I agreed. "Look Brom—"
At the same time he began, "Wren I—"
We both chuckled a little. "You go first," I said to him.
"Wren, I am sorry for missing our tutoring session. I wasn't trying to skip for a snog session," he explained. "I had actually been talking to Emmett about you and we got caught up. When I realized the time, I tried to hurry to the library, but then Cami caught up to me and tried to pull me into a classroom." He cringed at the thought and I did too.
"No, it's alright," I reassured him. "I should have listened when you tried to explain. I am just stubborn and I felt like my pride had been hurt."
"I think we both are." Brom smiled gently at me and I felt the butterflies swarm around my insides.
"What do you say to a truce? And maybe, starting over?"
"I would like that very much," he admitted. I held out my hand and he shook it. His hand was warm and firm, but gentle all the same.
"Wren Dawson, nice to meet you," I joked.
"Bromley Calloway, but you can call me Brom. The pleasure is all mine," he replied with a grin. "What a lovely accent. Are you from America?"
"Yes, I am actually. I am a transfer student to Hogwarts for the year."
"Oh, really? Well that's great! How are you liking it so far?"
"I have been pleasantly surprised. There is more to everything, and everyone, then there seems."
We stood, still shaking one another's hands and grinning like idiots. He finally cleared his throat and withdrew his hand. I saw a tinge of pink on his cheeks and nearly laughed. Was he blushing?
"I would like to get to know you, Ms. Dawson," he confessed. "What do you say we go to Hogsmeade tomorrow? And I promise no studying will be involved."
"It sounds like a date," I said pleasantly. "Oh, um…not that it is a date. Or that I wouldn't go with you on a date. I mean, you just never asked. To go with me, on a date." He laughed as I stammered. It was a gorgeous sound and one I wanted to hear again. "Please, feel free to stop my rambling at anytime."
"Ah, but where is the fun in that?" he teased, eyes glinting playfully. They were the same color as the ocean waves in sunlight, I thought.
"Where indeed," I murmured, hypnotized.
"So, if I did happen to ask you on a date in the future, does that mean you would say yes?" he asked coyly.
"Maybe," I replied, pretending to ponder the notion. "I guess we would have to see when we reached that point."
"Indeed." This time it was his turn to murmur. His gaze dropped to my lips and I thought I saw a hungry expression on his face, but he quickly masked it with a smile. "Until tomorrow, Ms. Dawson."
"Until tomorrow, Mr. Calloway," I responded. I tried not to startle when he suddenly, but gently, grabbed my hand and pressed his warm lips on my knuckles. I felt his hot breath on them for a lingering second, but then it was gone, and he was walking away. I regarded his retreating form, mulling over my thoughts. What was this boy doing to me?
Clothes were scattered all over, draped along my bed, heaped in piles on the floor. Despite the mess I had made, I still had no idea what I was going to wear. Tonight I was supposed to go with Brom to Hogsmeade and I couldn't remember the last time I had ever felt so nervous.
"Did nixies get into our dorm rooms again?" Evelyn asked, striding through the door after dinner.
"Wren has a date," Violet chimed in from where she was flipping through Witch Weekly on her bed.
"It's not a date," I countered, "but I do want to look nice and I have no idea what to wear." I faced my closet again, exasperated. Nothing seemed to be good enough for the occasion.
"Hm," Evelyn mused. "And who might you be going on this non-date with?"
"Brom Calloway!" Violet squealed before I could answer. "He asked her to Hogsmeade."
"It's really not a big deal," I attempted to explain. "We are just trying to start over and get to know each other for Emmett's sake."
"So I take it the reason you are dressing up is for Emmett as well," Evelyn taunted. I threw daggers her way, but became distracted with my fashion crisis again. "Oh, let me."
Evelyn pushed me out of the way and began rummaging through my drawers, muttering to herself that I should be grateful she was there and what would I do without her? "I already looked in there," I told her. "You aren't going to find anything worthwhile—"
She straightened, a triumphant look on her face. She held up a cream sweater with scalloped sleeves and decorative lace. "You were saying?" she teased, throwing the garment at me.
"It's cute," I acknowledged, "but what am I going to wear with it?"
"These," she replied. "They're mine so don't ruin them." She threw me a jean skirt and brown boots. I had to admit, it was an adorable outfit.
"Alright," I relented. I yanked them on, defeated. I turned to examine myself in the mirror and was very content with what I saw. "Now, he should be here any minute."
A knock resounded on the door. Violet giggled and sprang up to answer the door. She flung it open, ever the drama queen and announced loudly," Brom's here!"
"Thanks," I retorted. "Although, you might want to work on that. I don't think the Slytherins in the dungeon could hear you quite clearly." She stuck a tongue out at me in reply. I walked over to an amused Brom, who was in the same leather jacket from my party, I noticed with pleasure. The faint smell of vanilla and cologne wafted from him. "Let's get out of here before they can do something truly mortifying."
I grabbed him by the arm and started to drag him out. We had almost made it when Violet poked her head out the door and called, "Have fun! Use protection and don't do anything I wouldn't!"
My entire body grew hot with embarrassment and I heard Brom rumble with laughter next to me. "She will definitely be paying for that later," I hissed under my breath.
"Don't worry, Princess," he teased. "You're virtue will still be intact by the end of the night." My reply was to slug him on the shoulder. He rubbed it, grinning ruefully. "Such a temper."
"You haven't seen the half of it," I grumbled walking ahead of him.
"I'm sure, my feisty little tigress," he breathed in my ear. I whipped around but he was suddenly ahead of me, already almost through the castle doors.
"What is with you and your nicknames?"
"Don't you like them, Princess?" He was smiling widely now, his eyes dancing playfully.
"Not particularly, no," I answered.
"And why is that?" He was beside me again, his scent overwhelming my senses. I could feel his warm breath near my ear.
"I'm…not sure. You just get under my skin," I finally admitted. "Not a lot of people are able to do that."
"Is it such a bad thing?" he asked me, a hint of joy in his features.
"I haven't decided yet."
"Well maybe tonight will help you decide," he replied.
"Where are we going anyway?" I asked, the curiosity eating at me.
"That, Princess, is for me to know, and for you to find out," he said, avoiding giving me a real answer.
"You're not going to kill me and leave my body in the Forbidden Forest are you?" I joked.
"I haven't decided yet," he mimicked me.
"Well that doesn't bode well for my evening plans."
"And what did those include, Princess?"
"I could tell you, but then I would have to kill you and leave your body in the Forbidden Forest."
"Well, that does pose a problem indeed. I guess we shall both just have to be patient then," he remarked casually.
"I guess so."
We walked in companionable silence the rest of the way to the village. Usually silence made me uncomfortable, but for the first time, I didn't mind. I had assumed we would be going to the Three Broomsticks. I heard enough of the other Ravenclaws talking about it, but to my surprise, we continued on. Now I was really curious, but Brom wouldn't give up the location, simply shaking his head and grinning.
Soon we were on the outskirts of the village. Only one building was left. It was a rickety, old and creepy looking place. I knew it to be the infamous Shrieking Shack. The Ravenclaws had also regaled me with horror stories about it. We approached it and I grew weary.
"Now I really am starting to think you are plotting my murder," I told Brom.
He rolled his eyes and held out his hand. "Just trust me, okay?"
I hesitated, but finally slid my hand into his. He intertwined his fingers with mine and my heart shuddered before beginning a rapid pace. He pushed open the door and all I saw was pitch black. It didn't exactly look comfortable, but I took a deep breath and followed him in anyways. This had better be worth it, I thought.
I gasped when candles all around us suddenly flared to life. While the outside had been shabby, the inside was clean and polished. A table had been set up in the middle of the floor and a fireplace was crackling merrily off to one side.
"I know it's a bit secluded," Brom began nervously, "but I thought the privacy would give us a better chance to get to know one another."
"It's…actually quite perfect," I replied and noticed his shoulders relax in visible relief. He led me to the table and pulled out my chair for me. I sat down and he pushed in my chair again, ever the gentleman.
"I took the liberty of having the house elves prepare us a meal," he explained and lifted a silver lid off my plate. A delicious smelling roast and mashed potatoes lay underneath. Candles rested in the center of the table to provide us with a little more light. "Oh, I almost forgot." He clapped his hands and soft music began to play from invisible instruments.
"Wow, you really did think of everything. I am impressed."
"I know we have gotten off to a rough start, and I really wanted to make it up to you," he explained. "I am sorry for the way I have been treating you. I was truly despicable."
"Apology accepted," I moaned around a mouthful of beef. I thought I saw his eyes darken momentarily, but when I examined them again, they were their normal shade of blue. "So, Brom, tell me a bit about yourself."
"What would you like to know?" he asked, gazing at me intently.
"Anything. Your favorite color, your dream job, what your childhood was like."
"Well," he started, "my favorite color is green." He noticed my expression and laughed. "Not Slytherin green, something darker. Like…pine. I haven't really thought about a dream job. It was just always naturally assumed I would take over the family business. As for my childhood, it was rather depressing. You wouldn't want to hear about it."
He was no longer looking at me, but swirling his drink around in his glass.
"You wouldn't know until you actually try," I pointed out to him.
He sighed. "Okay," he agreed, "but only if you give me the same courtesy."
"I think I can manage that," I replied.
"Well, I am the only child and heir of the Calloway family. My father owns a famous, wealthy potions company. He met my mother at Hogwarts. He was a fifth year when she was a third. Their families arranged a marriage between them a few years later. My mother adored him and he seemed to like her well enough, but he was caught up with some other witch. She wasn't a pureblood, so my grandparents never would have gone for it.
A year later, they were married. My mother never even graduated from Hogwarts. They didn't really have the chance to get to know each other before my grandparents were pushing them for heirs. Nine months later, I was welcomed into the family. My grandparents loosened their grip a bit, but continued pushing my parents for heirs. Then it was revealed my mother couldn't have any more children.
My mother turned to alcohol for comfort, and my father found it in the arms of other women. When my mother found out, she was furious at first, but quickly became depressed. She blamed herself, thinking it was because she couldn't give him children. She began drinking more and more, and my father spent less time at the manor.
Purebloods don't believe in divorce, but one day, my father went to my mother and told her they would be together in name only. He had purchased another manor and he would be living there with his new mistress. To say my mother was devastated was an understatement. My father felt it was her duty to raise me until I was old enough to attend Hogwarts. Until then I was purely an annoyance to him and another reason to undermine his mistress.
I grew up with a mother who was hardly ever around, and when she was, she was always drunk. My father only came around once a year, on my birthday, to inspect how things were going along. He only ever stayed for an hour or two. When I turned 11, I received my letter and was shipped off to Hogwarts. I only came home for the summer and stayed with my father, who wanted me to stay out of the way for most of it. The only time he truly acknowledged me was when he wanted to teach me business affairs. A few weeks before our most recent summer break ended, my mother hung herself and that was that," Brom finished.
"Wow, Brom," I choked. "That is—I am so sorry."
He waved his hand nonchalantly. "It's my life and there is no use in dwelling on it. Now, tell me about yourself."
I cleared my throat, trying to get rid of the lump that had formed there. "Well, for starters, my favorite color is lavender. Like the sunset," I informed him. "My dream job would be to help people, probably as a Healer. As for my childhood, it wasn't happy at first, but I was very lucky all the same. My mom was attacked and raped by a fellow wizard while she attended Ilvermony. She had me a few months later. She fell away from the magical world after that and three years later met a muggle man. They got married and he adopted me, which means he is legally my father. They had my two younger brothers, who are both muggles, and raised us as such. My brothers were sent to public school and I was sent to Ilvermony to learn to control my magic. Sometimes I feel a bit like an outsider in my family, but I can't complain. In the end, I am safe and loved."
Brom cleared his throat. "I'm sorry about your mother."
"It's alright," I told him. "She is a strong witch and she is all the better for it."
"I can tell," he added.
"How?"
"She had you." I ducked my head, unable to look into his intense stare any longer. The emotions he was evoking from me were strange and foreign, yet familiar all the same. "Wren?" he said quietly, forcing me to look back up. There was that molten silver gaze again.
"Yes?" I breathed, afraid if I spoke to loudly it would shatter the moment.
"I need to tell you something."
"Yes?" I was leaning forward in my seat now. My eyes were locked on his and I noticed his face was getting closer to mine.
"Wren, I—"
A sharp crack sent us skittering to the opposite ends of the room. A house elf appeared, wringing its shirt nervously. "Excuse me, sir and misses, but it is time to go back to the castle."
Brom, who seemed to be trying to control something, finally spoke. "Thank you, Ducky. We will be there shortly." The elf nodded and disappeared with another loud crack. Brom waved his hand and the food disappeared along with the table. "We should head back now."
I nodded and followed him outside. "Brom, what were you going to say back there?"
He visibly stiffened. "Nothing," he barked. Then in a gentler tone, "It's nothing important. Let's hurry. I wouldn't want to get you in trouble."
He began walking quickly, leaving no room for me to argue, and no choice but for me to follow. Still, the scene from the shack lingered in my head, nagging me. I knew I would analyze it to death as I lay in bed that night.