Thanks to my uncle's kindness and pity, I spent my days on leave in The Moorings. My mum stopped by more often than I would have liked, but it was usually just to bring me stew and bread, as she deemed it hazardous to my health to suffer through my own cooking. I shifted in the window seat, buried in several blankets, as I looked out the window at the dreary landscape.

Edward had stopped by two days after I left St. Mungo's, asking if there was anything I could do and, I suspected, making sure I wasn't going to press charges against the team. I assured him I had no desire to, but Bray was an entirely different story. I informed him that my father was gathering all of the information, and I knew that, at the very least, Bray wouldn't be back on a Quidditch pitch for a decade.

Edward informed me that she would be indefinitely suspended from the team, until the case decided her fate. During that time, she would not be participating in any games, nor would she be allowed to practice with the team.

Sean brought me a Get Well basket of fruit not long after Edward's departure. He said that Magick Studios was going to join me in pressing charges so that my name would, for the most part, be hidden. Needless to say, I chucked most of the fruit out the window at unsuspecting neighbour children as they trespassed on my uncle's property.

My father and his partners were handling the preparation for the case, though my father would not be the one to prosecute, seeing as he has an obvious conflict of interest, what with the victim being his only daughter and all. But he was guiding Randolph Mitchell in his preparation of the case. Clearly, the ethics of it all was not my father's greatest concern.

For the time, that was satisfactory. There wasn't much more I could do, not while I was essentially being held prisoner in Dover. As much as I wanted to strangle Bray with my own two hands, my father, Mr Mitchell, Sean and Edward were doing all they could. Bray was, essentially, ruined. Or at least on the right track to be.

There was a pop and I turned to see my mother, a sack of groceries in her hand and post curled under her arm. She sighed as she looked around, "This room is so messy, and you've barely been here a week!"

"Mum, you can't expect me to clean when I'm in such a weak state," I moaned dramatically.

She rolled her eyes, "Ja, well I'm going to start on the soup." She threw the newest copies of Witch Weekly and The Daily Prophet at me before she turned and left the room, muttering to herself about getting me a house elf. Her heels clicked all the way down the stairs and to the kitchen.

As pots and pans began clanging, I picked up The Prophet, opening to the Quidditch page to look at the latest news. I scanned down the page until I saw a small snapshot of Bray, certainly looking a little worse for wear.

Keira Bray, Chaser of Puddlemere United, has been issued an indefinite suspension at a preliminary hearing and placed under watch following an incident last week in which she used an Unforgiveable Curse. Edward March, captain of Puddlemere United, said Tuesday, "It is unfortunate that Bray chose to act in such a way, but she must accept the consequences. Puddlemere United wishes to convey sincerest apologies to [name withheld], and Bray's actions in no way reflect our team." Private wizarding law firm Mitchell, Richter & Von Straussburg is handling the proceedings. Bray declined to comment after the hearing and is being held in Azkaban until the trial begins at the end of January.

Satisfied, I closed the paper and set it on top of the looming tower of books beside me. I was still deciding whether I should be present at the trial; that all depended on what Sean, Mr Mitchell, and my father decided behind closed doors. I was satisfied, though, knowing Bray would be spending her holiday imprisoned.

I turned to the Witch Weekly, leafing through it from back to front half-heartedly. I looked at some of the pictures. Apparently Viktor Krum had been named "Sexiest Quidditch Player" this year. Judging by his torso, particularly his abs, I would have to agree.

I was almost to the front cover when I spotted a picture of Oliver and Bray, but they had dramatically "torn" it apart. A jagged edge separated the two and, curious, I looked at the small blurb beside it.

Puddlemere United couple Oliver Wood and Keira Bray split last week. An inside source tells us that their relationship had been shaky for weeks, and that Wood had recently been showing interest in an unnamed woman. At this time, we can only speculate and wait for Bray's trial at the end of January. In the mean time, ladies, Oliver Wood is single!

I scoffed. For one thing, their inside source was lying. Their relationship seemed perfectly fine when we arrived a few weeks ago, and Wood hadn't been showing interest in anyone but Bray, from what I could tell. Secondly, what in the bloody hell, Witch Weekly? The average reader has absolutely no chance of meeting or even dating Oliver, for that matter. Completely ridiculous. Why women read such rubbish was beyond me.

I tossed it aside and stood.

It didn't matter to me that he was single.

Not one bit.

I unceremoniously plopped down into a chair at the dining table as Mum put some liquid concoction before me. I tucked in, ignoring the odd taste.

"So, I saw that Oliver broke up with that Bray girl," my mum said casually as she sat down across from me.

"Yeah, I s'pose he did."

"I think he still cares about you, Schatz-"

I set down my spoon, "Look, Mum, Oliver and I are over. We are separate entities. Besides, how could you possibly expect me to still love someone who was dating that bit-"

"Rüdiger!"

"Er, wretch who nearly killed me?"

After a long moment, she sighed, "Rue, I just want you to be happy-"

"I am happy," I insisted, picking up my spoon. "Never been happier."

She fixed me with a look, but I refused to meet her gaze. She had this way of looking into someone's eyes and knowing the truth whether the person wanted to admit it or not. I didn't need her telling me I was still madly in love with Oliver, despite everything with Clancy and what have you. Because I honestly didn't think I was.

"Moreover, he would've been a bloody fool to go on dating her. Not only is she a raving lunatic, but she was also cheating on him."

"And how do you know that?"

"I, er, accidentally walked in on her and the seeker once."

"Well then," my mother said with finality, indicating she had no desire to continue the conversation.

Our awkward lunch was over shortly thereafter and she was about to leave when her hand dove into her bag.

"Oh, how silly of me, I forgot to give this to you."

She quickly tossed two folded letters across the table to me before disapparating with a pop.

The first letter was from Clancy, informing me that Sam Adams was not dead and asking if he should just let him fly to me. He had "heard through the grapevine" that I had been injured and he wished me a speedy recovery. He went on saying how it's good that we, or, well, he finally cleared things up and that things were much better this way. He was ready to move on, or some rubbish like that. I pulled out a small bit of parchment and scribbled a one sentence reply: I'll be alright, just send Sam along so he doesn't get too lonely. Before folding it up and setting it aside for my father to collect later that evening.

The second small letter had no return address, and I hesitantly broke the wax seal and unfolded it. A part of me thought Bray figured out how to send post from Azkaban and this was a threat or poisoned with some invisible substance, but a quick glance at the bottom of the parchment proved me wrong.

Dear Rue,

I hope you're recovering quickly.

Again, I'm sorry.

None of this should have hap

It wasn't meant

I broke up with

I miss

I think of y

Just let me know you're okay.

Oliver

Raising an eyebrow, I reached for another piece of parchment, but was startled when my brother bellowed my name from somewhere behind me.

After he had picked me up and twirled me around, he returned me to my feet and started checking my vital signs.

"Er, Klaus, what're you doing?"

"Making sure I didn't just kill my favourite sister by showing her my love and affection when she is so physically weak."

"I'm you're only sister."

"Yes, well-"

He was bubbling with excitement.

"Why're you all happy?" I asked, eyeing him suspiciously as he turned to the table and picked up my letters.

"Can't tell you till Christmas. Oh, what's this?" he asked, waving Oliver's letter in my face. I reached out to grab it from him, but he held it high above his head, placed his right hand over his heart, and began to dramatically read it.

I could feel my cheeks burning.

"My dearest Rue, I hope you're recovering quickly. Again, I'm so sorry. None of this should have happened. It wasn't meant to be this way; we should have been together forever!"

"What're you doing?" I croaked, reaching up for the letter again.

"Reading between the lines, now hush," he swatted my hand away before continuing. "I broke up with Bray the Bitch because she's mad and can in no way compare to your unmatchable beauty, charm, or wit."

"It does not say that!" I cried.

"I miss you like the sun misses the flower, like the sun misses the flower in the depths of winter. Instead of beauty to direct its light to, the heart hardens like the frozen world your absence has banished me to."

"Oh, sweet Merlin," I moaned, covering my face with my hands.

"I think of you all the time. Come back to me and mend my broken heart. Always and forever yours, Oliver," he finished with a dreamy sigh, wiping an invisible tear from his eye.

"Klaus?"

"Yeah, sister mine?"

"Piss off."

There it is! Sorry it's been so long since my last update. I'm going to try to get a few more chapters out in the next week, though I can't make any promises since I'm in the midst of finals. Anyway, J.K. Rowling owns the HP universe. I'm going to try to get a start on that oneshot collection tomorrow. They're going to be short. A lovely prize goes to whoever can correctly spot the lines from the following films: The Duchess, Atonement, and A Knight's Tale. (Hint: they're all fairly close together.) As always, please do me the great honor of leaving a review! Yours.