This chapter got ANGSTY! Kind of like the 5th HP book in some respects :oP but we all knew this moment had to happen! But do not worry, we have two more school years to get through, plus an epilogue ;o) But still, I hope (despite the angst) you enjoy! Thank you again for reading and reviewing!

Chapter Five

1916

She had heard it said that one's fifth year was the hardest year at Hogwarts. While one's N.E.W.T.'s were a difficult task in their own right, they were nothing, so her sisters and other students had told her, compared to one's O.W.L.'s. And this certainly seemed to be the case as Sybil sat in the library late into the evening, the wax from her candle dripping down, the wick not much more than a stub. She sighed and rubbed her eyes, wishing not for the first time that she wasn't sitting in their nook, alone.

But alone she was, and had been so for the last few weeks.

She missed her best friend. She missed him terribly. But ever since the previous spring, Tom had been distant, for reasons Sybil was unsure. She had tried to approach him about it, but he made it clear he didn't want to talk about whatever was troubling him, which troubled her because…when had they not been able to talk to each other about anything?

Things were changing—things had changed, and it bothered her a great deal.

It also didn't help that so much was changing in the world around them. The muggle world, yes, but still, despite what her grandmother thought, the muggle world did affect the wizarding world as well, and especially something like this terrible war that was raging across Europe.

Sybil sighed as she recalled the letter Mary had sent her two days ago. Matthew had enlisted back in September, shortly after both her and Edith had returned to Hogwarts. He had just now completed his training, and would be leaving for France within a few days. "Damn Gryffindors," Mary had sworn in her letter, something that Sybil was not accustomed to seeing her sister do, yet there was no doubt whatsoever now, that Mary had feelings for Matthew. She had shared the letter with Edith, who also looked concerned by this news, but in the end Edith simply told her to concentrate on her O.W.L.'s, as she would concentrate on her N.E.W.T.'s, and hope that before Christmas, the war truly would be over.

Yet the muggle newspapers had been saying this for two years now. And as far as Sybil could tell, the war was nowhere near an end.

Oh how she longed to speak about this with Tom, to hear his thoughts on the matter, as well as find some comfort and reassurance in his words.

But…he seemed to be avoiding her! Why? What had she done? Sybil put down her pen and scrunched her face up as she thought back to the previous weeks, trying to recall a moment where perhaps she had taken a joke too far and said something to upset him, or perhaps she had brushed aside something important and had hurt him by doing so?

I did nag him a great deal about saying something to the headmaster in allowing girls to join the Quidditch team, she thought to herself. For centuries, Quidditch was played by boys and boys only. But Sybil loved to fly her broom, and while she may not be as good at the sport as Tom was, still…girls should have the opportunity to participate and play just as much as a boy did! So after she returned for her fifth year, she had started pestering Tom into saying something, petitioning him to "lead their cause" and help win "equal rights for Quidditch".

Sybil sighed and sat up, blowing out her candle and gathering her things. No, there was more to it than that. Something else was bothering him, and it was her own fault for not pushing the matter and trying to learn what it was. She had thought that perhaps by leaving him alone, he would come around and seek her out and then tell her what was on his mind. But…she couldn't stand this absence. And clearly leaving him be and waiting for him to come to her was not the answer.

Feeling resigned and determined at what must be done, Sybil walked with purpose back to the Hufflepuff tower, smiling and nodding her head at the various ghosts she passed, but not pausing as she would normally to strike up a conversation. Upon finally reaching the tower and entering, she found the common room practically empty, save for a few fellow fifth years who, like her, were studying for their O.W.L.'s.

"John, Anna? Have either of you seen Tom?" she asked, nibbling her bottom lip. It wasn't that late; surely he hadn't gone to bed yet?

"I think he's in the owlery," John answered. "I saw him heading that way after supper; he's been spending a lot of time there as of late." He looked a little confused. "Didn't you know?"

Naturally they would assume that she would, since Tom was her best friend. Sybil swallowed and tried to hide her embarrassment. "Oh, of course! Yes, yes, of course, I um…I just thought he might be back," she mumbled, before turning on her heel…and slowly making her way to the common room door.

As soon as she was outside, she moved her feet quickly in the direction of the Hogwarts Owlery, John Bates' words replaying over and over in her head. "He's been spending a lot of time there as of late…" Why? Why was Tom spending so much time in the owlery? He didn't have an owl of his own, like other students. Matthew had been kind and allowed Tom to use his, if he ever needed to send a message back to Ireland. And now that Matthew had finished, he had given Tom his owl.

She reached the tower where the owlery lay, and glanced around. It was very quiet here, in this part of the school, no doubt so that the owls could get some proper rest when they weren't flying and delivering messages. She climbed the ladder that led up to the top, noticing that the door to the tower was open, so…perhaps, just maybe…

"Tom…?"

She nibbled her lip as she poked her head inside. "Tom? Are you here?"

Silence.

And then, "…yeah."

"Oh!" Sybil quickly scrambled through the door and into the room, wincing as several owls hooted in protest at her rather clumsy and noisy entrance. "Tom! Oh thank goodness," she breathed, carefully moving through the tower, not wanting to disturb the owls further…or step on something they had left on the floor. She saw him sitting near a large, circular window, his eyes fixed on the night sky, his forearms resting on his knees. Sybil couldn't help but momentarily find herself somewhat transfixed by the image; Tom wasn't the tallest boy in Hufflepuff, but even though he was only fifteen, he was certainly becoming one of the most…muscular, if she were honest with herself. No doubt all those years of practicing in Quidditch as a beater had something to do with it. "John said I would find you up here," she explained, though she couldn't deny she felt rather ashamed to admit that. I'm his best friend, I should have known he was coming here, she berated herself.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, glancing at her just over his shoulder.

Sybil couldn't deny his question hurt a little. Was everything alright? No, of course it wasn't. The two of them hadn't properly spoken to each other for weeks! And even before this long silence had begun, things weren't...the same, as they had been in the past.

But she swallowed her wounded pride and quickly sat down next to him. "Yes, everything is...actually no, no, everything is not alright," she stated, turning and looking directly at him. "Tom...we've hardly spoken to each other in weeks!"

He sighed and nodded his head. "Aye, I know."

Her brow creased with confusion, but the look on her face was one of concern, not annoyance. "What is it? What's the matter? Please..."

She reached for his hand then, but he moved it away before her fingers managed to touch his. She frowned and lifted her eyes to his face, and saw that...was he blushing? "Tom?"

He shifted slightly, as if pulling his legs a little closer to his body, like he was trying to move further away from her. Good heavens, what on earth was the matter? That concern she was feeling was starting to turn into annoyance, however before she could say anything, the screech of an owl drew her attention to the window, and Tom quickly leaned forward, opening the glass, so the creature could fly in.

"Is that-?"

"Neptune, yeah," Tom answered, helping Matthew's owl-well, his owl actually-into the owlery, giving the bird a piece of fish from their supper, and then removing a note that was tied to it's leg. She didn't mean to pry, but she was curious as to what the message was on the owl's leg.

She watched Tom's face as he opened the letter, practically forgetting that she was sitting there next to him. His eyes scanned it quickly, and then she saw him let out a sigh, like one of relief, before stuffing the into a pocket on his robes. Sybil bit her lip, unsure what to say or do. Should she say something? Ask him what it was? It was an odd time to receive a letter-the post normally came in the middle of the afternoon, but...was this what Tom was doing so often in the owlery? Sending and receiving late night messages?

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye then, and even though she didn't prompt him, he did answer the questions that were running through her mind. He knew her so well.

"It's from my mam," he explained. "I...I've been writing home...a lot," he whispered. There was a long pause, but Sybil could tell there was more to be said, and so she simply sat and waited patiently for him to continue. However, when he spoke next, she was not prepared for the words that came out.

"I lost my cousin."

It took a moment for the weight of his words to register...but when they did, she felt as if a stone had been dropped in her stomach. "Oh...oh Tom," she whispered, and despite what had happened earlier, she did reach out to him and he didn't shrink away from her touch. "Oh Tom, I...I'm so sorry." It suddenly occured to Sybil just then that she had never experienced the sadness of losing someone. Both of her grandfathers had died before she was born, and while no doubt some of the older servants that had once served at Downton when she was a small child had died, they had retired and left the house long before that would have taken place. She honestly wasn't sure what to say, but her heart did squeeze with sympathy for her friend. "When did this happen?" she whispered.

He sighed and looked down at his hands, which were twisted together. "Last spring," he murmured. "Around Easter."

Sybil's eyes widened at this. Last spring, around Easter. When he began to become distant. And it had steadily gotten worse. Oh gracious why...why hadn't he said anything? And why hadn't she asked?

He chuckled then, a strange sound, because it wasn't like the usual chuckles he gave, when he found something truly humorous. No, this was bitter.

"It doesn't stop, you know...not for me," he murmured finally.

Sybil looked confused. "Doesn't stop?"

He shook his head. "When I leave this place? When I go back to Dublin at Christmas, or in the summer? It doesn't matter how long I've been coming here, or everything that I've learned, I still return to a muggle world, where I'm the only wizard in my neighborhood that I know of, and people either pretend not to know, or truly aren't aware of what I am...and where I'm going to school," he explained.

Sybil didn't know what to say. Coming from a pureblood family, it was practically impossible to imagine living in a world where magic and all its wonders were foreign. It was also strange to think that one would want to keep such information hidden, especially when her father was always boasting about the "glory" of not being a "common muggle".

"Just because I'm a wizard, doesn't mean that the muggle world stops," he explained again. "When I go back to Ireland, Syb, it's not a 'magical realm' that I return to, like Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley; it's the same Dublin as it was before I got my letter to Hogwarts, only it's become even more violent," he muttered with disgust. "Soldiers walk through the streets, arresting people they don't like the look of, and...and last spring, during the Rising-"

The Rising. Sybil had briefly heard about the Easter Rising (the Daily Prophet always had a small section in the paper dedicated to news happening in the muggle world) but she had no idea how it truly had affected the people of Dublin...or Tom and his family. And she was suddenly ashamed to realize this.

"-I mean, my cousin wasn't even political! He was just walking, Syb! He was just walking down the street, and...and they shot him! As if he were an animal! They shot him and left him there to die, and when questioned why, they just shrugged their shoulders and said 'he was probably a rebel'!"

His voice was becoming more and more emotional as he spoke, and the anger was growing too. Sybil could understand, she felt tears sting the corners of her eyes as she listened to his story. A part of her desperately wanted to wrap her arms around him and hug him, but she didn't dare move, because she also knew that this was taking an incredible amount of strength for him to reveal and share with her. So she simply sat there and listened, wrapping her arms around her own body since she couldn't wrap them around his.

Tom paused and took a deep breath, before finally murmuring, "I didn't want to come back. I...I was so...so angry. I blamed myself, that I couldn't do anything, despite the magic I know," he muttered. "And I blamed the soldiers for the injustice of their actions. And...and all I felt was hate," he spat. "Hatred at so many things, and England was the last place I wanted to set foot upon," he growled.

Sybil swallowed, not saying anything, though her heart ached for him. Another long silence passed between them, and finally...Sybil lifted her eyes to his profile, and whispered, "I know it's selfish...but I'm glad you came back."

Another moment of silence passed, before Tom shook his head. "No, it's not selfish," he murmured. He lifted his eyes to hers then, and Sybil sucked in a breath at how...clear and deep they were. As if he were looking through her, to her very soul. "It's not selfish," he repeated. "Because the truth is...you're the reason I came back."

Sybil blinked for several seconds as his words washed over her.

You're the reason I came back.

Oh gracious...what should she say? What did he mean? They were best friends, but...but there was something more to his words, something deeper, something that in truth, frightened her a little...

"Sybil..." he turned to face her fully then, and Sybil's heart suddenly began to beat quite rapidly. "I've told myself and told myself you're too far above me...but...but the world is changing! And even if I have to go back to living the life of a muggle again when our time at Hogwarts is over, I'll make something of myself-"

"Oh Tom, I know you will!" Sybil cut in to reassure, though there was something about the way he was looking at her...and the way his hand was suddenly gripping hers, as if his life depended on it, as if he was receiving oxygen from just her touch alone. Something's changed, something is different-

"Then bet on me!"

Her eyes flew from their hands to his face, and she swore her heart stopped as she realized just how close they were now, his face only a few inches away from hers.

"Tom?" she whispered, her eyes moving back and forth from his own to his lips. Her throat suddenly felt very dry. "What...what...what are you saying?"

He looked disappointed then and he leaned away slightly. "Don't you know?"

She looked into his eyes once more, and felt herself moving towards him, as if drawn in like a magnet. He moved too, their breath mingling as they drew closer...

"No, I...I'm sorry," she interrupted, lifting her head away and shaking it. Good heavens, what had just happened? Or in truth, what was about to just happen? She felt confused, terribly confused, and...and afraid, too. Which was strange, because she never felt that way around Tom! What on earth was wrong with her?

A sigh escaped his lips, and he dropped her hands from his hold. Sybil looked up at him, and watched as he leaned away. She suddenly felt compelled to say something, anything! "Tom," she began, though he seemed to flinch slightly at her voice. "Tom, please, I...you're my best friend-"

"And you're mine," he replied. "Nothing will change that."

She smiled at this, though it was fleeting, because he did not return it. Rather, he looked heartbroken, which in truth broke her heart.

Oh heaven above, was he truly telling her what she thought he was telling her?

"Tom, I...I don't know what to say-"

"Then it's probably best not to say anything," he sighed, before rising to his feet.

Sybil stared at him, and quickly scrambled to her own as well. "Tom, please, I...I'm terribly flattered-"

"Don't," he stopped her, looking at her intensely. "Please...don't make fun of me."

"I...I wasn't-"

"It's cost me everything I've got to say these things."

"I wasn't teasing, I didn't mean...I...all I meant was-"

"I know what you meant," he muttered, moving away from her. "It's something posh people say when they're getting ready to say 'no'."

Sybil stared at him, her mouth hanging open. "Well...that sounds more like you," she mumbled, a part of her desperately trying to bring some lightness back this awkward moment, but a part of her was reeling as well. After all this time of avoiding her, he was now telling her that he...that he...

That he loves me.

He stiffened and looked at her, and Sybil felt her heart break in half at the look of anguish and resentment on his face. But he didn't lash out at her, he didn't yell or accuse her or anything like that, he just sighed and stepped away from her. It was only a few steps, and yet it felt like a canyon.

"Right...well..." he shifted awkwardly on his feet. "When I go home for Christmas, I won't come back-"

"WHAT!?" Sybil gasped, staring at him with horror. "NO! DON'T DO THAT!"

"Syb, it's for the best-"

"NO IT BLOODY ISN'T!" she stomped, her anger rising. "You said so yourself, Tom, we're best friends, NOTHING will change that! Did you mean it?" she challenged him.

He closed his eyes and sighed, but nodded his head. "I did," he whispered.

"Good!" she took a steadying breath, her arms hugging herself even tighter as the tears began to blur her vision. "Because...because I will never forgive either of us if you do leave!"

He looked at her and despite the deep sadness that she could see in his eyes...there was a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.

"Would you put a curse on me?"

"Damn right I would!" she swore back at him, which actually made the both of them laugh. But it still hurt; everything still hurt. And nothing would be the same again.

"It's getting late," he whispered at last. "Best be going back."

Sybil mutely nodded her head, and moved quickly ahead of him, down the ladder, and then briskly back to the Hufflepuff tower, Tom but a few feet behind her.

They didn't speak the rest of the way. They didn't even say goodnight to each other when they parted ways in the common room, and he moved to ascend the stairs to the boys dormitory.

Sybil barely got any sleep that night. Her pillow was soaked from her tears. Oh Lord, how was she going to be able to concentrate on her O.W.L.'s now?

...and what did it matter, really? Tom Branson, without saying the exact words, had admitted that he was in love with her.