Bonnie and Ian. It didn't take long for the school to connect their names, murmur about it semi-disapprovingly, and then move on to the bigger rumors currently flying back and forth. The timing, while unfortunate, was perfect.
And, while Maggie and Thalia put up a fuss about it, they more or less accepted that Ian was often going to be with Bonnie, now.
They all found themselves at Quidditch games more often than they had, before.

As the the castle's rumor-fever hit an all-time high, the great outdoors had other ideas.
It began to snow.
Softly, at first, it built up, taking over the night and blanketing the castle grounds in thick sheets of white. Herbology classes were canceled, because Professor Sprout needed to properly outfit the Mandrakes in scarves and earmuffs.
Bonnie was excused from classes for the day in order to help her - she was the only student Professor Sprout trusted well enough to help. The Mandrakes were of the utmost importance, now that there was a human victim.
The greenhouses, one of Bonnie's favorite places on campus, were chilly. The glass creaked under the weight of snow. Bonnie's ears, however, were securely covered with bright pink earmuffs, and she couldn't hear a thing.
Mandrakes, as it turned out, were harder to wrestle into winter clothing than a two year old.
Thankfully, once you got the scarf wrapped around them, they seemed to settle right down. It was just a matter of figuring out how to do that without pain that was the problem.

They were busy for hours, the two of them, outfitting the Mandrakes. When they'd finally finished and able to remove their earmuffs, Professor Sprout, huffing and puffing slightly, told Bonnie she was thankful she'd caved in and had a student help.
"Wouldn't have trusted anyone else," she told Bonnie as they trudged through the snow, bundled up themselves, now. "Not yet, anyway, though that Neville Longbottom shows promise..."

Bonnie, dripping snow, walked slowly through the mostly-empty corridors. Classes were still in session, and she could hear voices filtering out through doorways.

And then, suddenly, the peace and stillness was broken. Peeves was shouting, another attack.
Bonnie took off running, skidding to a slowdown, and then slipping between people to view what had happened.
Her heart stuttered, and she threw her mittened hands over her face.
"No," she whispered weakly. "Oh, no."
Justin Finch-Fletchley lay in the hallway, still, completely unmoving. And Nearly Headless Nick floated, just as motionless, before him.

"Bonnie, it was in no way your fault," Ian murmured, stroking her hair. "You couldn't have stopped this."
"He's a second-year, Ian! I'm the Hufflepuff Prefect! I was supposed to take care of him."
"You cannot blame yourself for this," he reminded her. "You know that, don't you?"
She nodded slowly, head still resting on his chest. She sniffed, and swiped at her own eyes with the long sleeves of her sweater.
"I just...I wish I could have...could have helped, somehow," she said. "They were all so, so sad, Ian. Especially poor little Hannah Abbott, she was beside herself."
It was late, long after curfew. But neither seemed to care.
They were back in the Room of Requirement again, hidden away from the sleeping school.
The room, this time, was small and circular with a brick fireplace, neverending amounts of tea, any kind of tea you could possibly imagine, cookies on a silver tray, and the soft sofa they were currently curled up in.
"He'll be alright," Ian said. "Professor Sprout will grow those mandrakes, and he will be revived. And then, maybe, he can tell them what it was that attacked him. Or who."
Bonnie sniffed again, but did not reply.
"Here, sit up a moment."
Bonnie made a discontented noise, but sat up and let Ian stand.
"Peppermint tea?" He asked. Bonnie nodded and wrapped her arms around her knees.
Ian poured two mugs of tea, plain for him and peppermint for Bonnie.
"Drink," he ordered, pressing the mug into her hands. Bonnie obeyed, and immediately the mildly sweet, minty tea calmed her. Ian sat down beside her again and Bonnie curled into his side, tucked her bare toes under his leg.
"Cold?" He asked, reaching over with his free hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"A little. Mostly just my feet."
Ian chuckled and took a sip of his own tea.
For a long time they were quiet, sipping tea and watching the fire crackle happily.

"Ian?"
"Bonnie?"
"Have you...in the Slytherin Common Room, have you...heard anything?"
"About the Heir of Slytherin, you mean?"
Bonnie nodded, and held the warm mug to her cheek for its warmth.
"Not yet," Ian said. "Though there has been quite a lot of nonsense about whose bloodline is purest. Or password at the moment is even "pureblood"," He looked as if the word tasted quite bitter. "There's been quite a bit of talk about Harry Potter being the heir, actually."
"Really?" Bonnie looked up, curious.
"Haven't you heard this?"
Bonnie shook her head no.
"Do you remember that Duelling Club that Lockhart started?"
"The one you went to?"
"Yes. There was an...incident, there. They partnered Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy..."
Bonnie snorted, amused.
"Right, exactly. And Malfoy shot this serpent at Harry. Lockheart, useless as he is, tried to get rid of it, and angered the thing instead. When the snake landed..."
"Landed?"
"He kind of...thew it up in the air, magically. Anyway, the first thing it saw was Justin, and it headed toward him. Potter he...he spoke Parseltongue."
"What? But there's so few people who can do that, how could he...?"
Ian shrugged.
"No one could really tell what he was doing...he was either egging the thing on or calling it off, I'm not even truly sure which one it was. And Justin got mad, asked Potter what he was playing at, and stormed off."

"So now that Justin's been...attacked..."
"Everyone thinks Potter is the one who did it."
"But that's ridiculous! Potter is a Gryffindor! Which might not mean anything, but then why would he want to kill Muggleborns? Isn't Hermione Granger one of his best friends? And he spends every waking moment with the Weasleys, and everyone knows how Arthur Weasley feels about Muggles..."
"I know, Bonnie. They aren't thinking. But they need a scapegoat, and Potter's the most convenient one. It'll pass when they realize how ridiculous it is."
"I hope so."
"People are strange, Bonnie. Magical or not."
"Why can't we all just...I don't know."
"Get along, Miss. Hufflepuff?"
"Something like that."

Following the double attack of Nearly-Headless Nick and Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hufflepuff was more than a little upset. Justin was well-liked, especially among the first and second years. It wasn't uncommon for Bonnie to stumble upon knots of weepy eleven year olds or groups of troubled second years. She handled it as well as she could, trying all the while to do away with the alarmingly common notion that Harry Potter was the heir of Slytherin.
Bonnie didn't think she'd ever heard anything more ridiculous in her life. Unfortunately, Ernie McMillan was set on the notion and no matter how hard Bonnie tried, he and his friends were not about to let the matter go.

It seemed that her fifth year was going to be marked by the strange phenomenon of bad news making things easier for Bonnie. Just as she was becoming so sick of correcting Potter-is-the-her-of-Slytherin rumors that she was in danger of snapping, the Hufflepuff vs. Gryffindor Quidditch game came around.
Or tried to, anyway.
No sooner had the teams assembled, red and yellow Quidditch robes dotting the green grass, than Professor McGonagall appeared on the field and ordered all students back to their dormitories.
There would be no Quidditch game played today.

Bonnie, in the stands with her usual group of Hufflepuff fifth-years and Ian, who really didn't have many Slytherin friends and seemed to prefer the company of the Hufflepuffs.
"What's happened?" Maggie asked, craning her neck to examine the field. "Does anyone know?"
Patricia tugged nervously at her hair.
"You don't suppose there's been another attack...?"
Asa Henry, a fellow fifth year and, recently, Patricia's boyfriend, squeezed her hand comfortingly.
"I don't see what else it could be," Ian said darkly. Bonnie glanced at him and followed his gaze, dark and upset, to where Draco Malfoy stood, smirking, with his equally smug friends.
"He seems to be enjoying himself, doesn't he?" Bonnie said under her breath, so that only Ian could hear. Ian shook his head unhappily.
"He can't be the heir," he replied quietly. "I thought maybe, but...I've been looking into wizarding genealogies and the Malfoys are in no way direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin. The families are linked, yes, but only barely. And that's something you really cannot escape, with families as pureblooded as theirs."

They walked back to the castle and parted ways, making for their House common rooms. Cedric Diggory caught up to Bonnie, looking flustered.
"Penelope Clearwater's been attacked," he whispered as they shepherded some nervous first-years into the Common Room. "And Hermione Granger."
"At least that dispels the Potter myths," Bonnie said grimly. They took seats on the couch in front of the fire. Professor Sprout was standing in front of the fireplace, twisting her hands.

"Quiet, please!" Professor Sprout said. Hufflepuff House settled down, and Professor Sprout began to speak.
"In light of recent events..." she began.
"Have there been more attacks?" Someone interrupted.
"Who was it?"
"Are they going to be alright?"
"When will the Mandrakes be ready?"
"Do they know who's doing this?"
"Will Hogwarts be..."
"Quiet!" Cedric called above the din. "Please. Let Professor Sprout talk."
Cedric's voice, it seemed was even more effective than Professor Sprout's.
"Thank you, Mr. Diggory. To answer your question, there has been another...incident...involving two students from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor Houses. In light of the fact that four students, a ghost, and a cat have all been victims of this attack in such a short period of time, there will be some changes."
The common room was still, the silence heavy and expectant.
"As of this moment, no student is to be unaccompanied in the corridors. Your professors will escort you between your classes and back to the common room in the afternoons. You are not to go to the lavatories unless accompanied by a professor. Prefects, while it has been general practice to do your rounds in pairs, it is now the rule. You are not to patrol the castle on your own, under any circumstances. The consequences for a student found breaking curfew or wandering the corridors on their own will be strict - we cannot take any chances."
She paused again and swallowed heavily.
"I must warn you all," she said, "that there is a real chance that Hogwarts could close because of these attacks. So I urge each and every one of you, if you have any information, any at all, to come forward immediately. Thank you."
When she had finished, Professor Sprout crawled through the tunnel and exited the common room.

There was silence, for nearly a full minute.
And then the murmuring started.
In moments, the common room was alive with voices discussing and arguing, throwing facts and speculation back and forth between them.

What remained of her fifth year was clouded and muddled, the confusion broken only by stray moments with friends in the privacy of dormitories and common room, and the tutoring sessions with Ian. They used their patrols in order to meet - following rounds, they met while still in House pairs and went to the Room of Requirement until classes let out or mealtimes came and they could slip into the crowds unnoticed.
Bonnie, though still not the world's best Transfiguration student and unlikely to ever become an Animagus, had greatly improved since they had begun. Ian, meanwhile, who had never been completely incompetent with potions, had also improved under Bonnie's tutelage.

O. came and went, causing nervousness and confusion above and beyond what the Chamber of Secrets alone had been causing. Bonnie was relatively unconcerned, but for the Transfiguration section. But she knew she'd worked hard, had memorized names and dates and spells and technicalities until she thought her head would explode. There was little chance she'd gotten anything less than an Exceeds Expectations on most subjects.
Except maybe History of Magic. That one was probably, at best, an Acceptable. She'd slept through most of the classes. Then again, so had most of her friends.
They'd studied off of a kind of patchwork quilt of notes, assembled from the odd tidbits they'd assembled in rare moments of wakefulness and the pity-handouts from more alert students.

And then Ginny Weasley was taken into the Chamber, and O.W.L's were instantly forgotten.

But Harry Potter, of course, had come through. Stories spread, each more fantastical than the last, until the true order of events would never be known. Gryffindor won the House and Quidditch Cups, much to Alan's delight (Bonnie knew she wouldn't hear the end of it all summer). All too soon, they were packing and boarding the Hogwarts Express, headed home for the summer.

"You will write over the summer, won't you?"
"Will you read my letters, this time?"
"Ian. That happened once. And I hardly knew you...!"
"I'm only joking, Bonnie, of course I'll write."
Bonnie stood on the tips of her toes and threw her arms around Ian's neck.
"I'll miss you."
"I know. I'll miss you, too, believe me."
With all of the time they'd spent together, all of the conversations, Bonnie still didn't know much about Ian's home or his family. He never spoke of them, not even in passing, though he seemed genuinely interested and pleased whenever Bonnie spoke of her own family.
She could only assume he lived somewhere gloomy and unhappy, surrounded by a cold, proudly Pureblood family.
Their kiss on the platform drew some attention, though not as much as she had feared - the Hogwarts students had grown used to them, and the parents weren't really paying them much attention.
"See you in September," Bonnie said as they parted. Her family was waiting, and she knew she was going to have to answer their questions.
Her father in particular looked as if he was going to burst with them.
Typical Ravenclaw.
"See you in September, Bonnie."
Ian kissed her forehead and watched as she pushed her trolley off toward her family, greeting them with bright smiles, hugs, and kisses. Her little sister, Poppy, wrapped her arms around her older sister's waist and didn't seem keen on letting go.

She turned around as they headed back into the Muggle station, caught Ian's eye, and smiled. He produced a smile in return and waved as she disappeared beyond the platform.

Surrounded by families and fellow students, Ian gathered his luggage. Matilda leaped up onto his shoulder, purring, and butted his temple with the side of her head.
Feeling heartened that he at least wasn't totally alone, Ian set off. There would be a car waiting for him outside, he knew - shiny and black and enchanted to go faster than any Muggle car. But all that was waiting for him at the end of the trip was a long, lonely summer with only ink-and-paper communication with Bonnie to keep his company. Letters, books, and a cat.
At least it would be better than last year.

((I apologize if this chapter seems a bit rushed. I was honestly getting a bit bored with this Chamber of Secrets thing, considering Harry got most of the action of it. We're going to play a bit of a time-game. I'll kind of skim over what happened during their sixth year in the next chapter, and then we'll move on to the Tri-Wizard Tournament. I don't think second/third year would be as interesting to other students as they were to the Trio...
This is going to continue after Hogwarts, and then we'll kind of jump through the war, I think. I have some...interesting events in mind, so we'll see what happens!))