A/N: Here is the next chapter! I hope you all enjoy it, because it's definitely going to get interesting after this.
Anomaly
Chapter 12
The air was crisp and cold, and even through the heavy red and gold scarves, Melanie could feel it bite her cheeks. This was her first ever Quidditch match. Even though she was so new to Hogwarts, she still found herself cheering her heart out for Gryffindor as the players stepped out onto the field.
Rose had been making every effort to ease the pain of Melanie's loss; though she didn't show it, Melanie knew. She'd only come to the Quidditch match on Rose's request, as she had been very persistent. When she'd realized Melanie hadn't come to the first match because she'd been sick in the Hospital Wing, she simply would not take no for an answer.
"It's so cold out here," Melanie complained.
"Shut up," said Rose. "You love this."
Rolling her eyes, she grinned. "Yeah. I do. I really hate myself for being so sick last time."
"Yeah, seriously, Melanie," teased Al. "I can't believe you missed the first match. Loser."
Laughing, she shoved her friend. "Shut up, Albus. If I asked you anything at all about Muggle sports you'd be like a little kid learning how to talk."
"Yeah, but so would everyone else here," he pointed out. "So that still makes you the loser."
A few days ago, she would have rolled her eyes in irritation, but these days, Melanie was feeling calmer and calmer.
"You don't even like Quidditch that much," she said, smirking.
"What?" said Rose, shocked. "Are you serious, Al?"
"Er, no?" he squeaked.
"ALBUS!" Rose shrieked, smacking his arm. "How can you not like Quidditch?"
"Ow! Blimey, I'm sorry! I just-just don't like it that much, okay?" he cried, protecting his face from her swatting hands.
"How did no one ever know this?" Rose asked, looking grumpy as she gave up trying to hit him.
"Uh, I don't know, maybe because you'd all react LIKE THAT?" said Al sarcastically.
The redhead laughed, and then let out an appreciative whistle as she watched the Gryffindor Quidditch team mount their brooms. "I've got to say," she commented, "our Quidditch players are beyond smoking."
"Yeah, seriously," Melanie agreed. "Who are they, anyway?"
"Well you can see the Chasers, right? There's James, and Seymour Peyton—that's Myra's brother—and Julian Winslow. He's in fifth year, so we don't ever have classes with him, but he was so close to being Captain."
"Who's Captain?" said Melanie.
Rose merely stared at her.
"What?"
"You're joking, right?" she said, astonished.
"No, I'm not. I told you, I was sick the first match, and I've never actually talked about it with anyone," she replied.
With a frustrated groan, Rose said, "Please, do not tell anyone you didn't know who was Captain!"
"Why not?"
"Because it's James," said a voice behind her, and she turned to face a grinning Noah. "And James will be the most insecure, self-conscious bastard in the whole world if he finds out the new girl did not know he was Captain."
"Exactly," said Rose. "So just keep quiet."
"What's so wrong with an insecure James? I think it'd go well with his cute image," she joked.
Both Rose and Noah exchanged looks and said together, "No it wouldn't."
"Seriously," advised Al. "Just keep quiet."
A commotion had broken out into the field. It appeared that Gryffindor was missing a player. They watched as the six red-and-gold-clad teenagers huddled in a circle and argued. Suddenly, a tan-skinned boy with dark red hair came running out of the Quidditch locker rooms.
"What the hell was Fred doing for so long?" said Rose.
"It is not like him at all to do that," said Al. "He takes Quidditch seriously, he does."
"Aaaaaand they're off!" cried the commentator.
The four of them turned their attentions back to the match. Melanie was on the edge of her seat—they were flying so fast!
"So who are the rest of the players?" she shouted over the cheers; Gryffindor had just scored.
"The Beaters—the ones who deal with the flying balls, the Bludgers—are Fred and Myra!" cried Rose.
She had noticed Fred zooming around the Pitch faster than anybody. Clearly, he was one of the best on the team.
"And the Keeper by the hoops there is Hillary Fiennes. She's in sixth year, and damn, would I like to get some of that," said Noah, looking over to the Keeper's position.
"Shut up, Noah!" yelled Rose. "And last is the Seeker! He's over there—Sydney Thomas—OH MERLIN LOOK AT HIM GO!"
"AND THERE GOES THOMAS, THE GRYFFINDOR SEEKER! LOOK AT HIM FLY ACROSS THE PITCH! NO WAY THE RAVENCLAW SEEKER CAN MATCH THAT!" The crowd was beside itself.
"Blimey, this looks like the fastest match we've had in, like, ever, right?" said Noah.
Just then, a puffy-eyed Roxanne Weasley took a seat next to him. "Is-is the match over already?" she said in a slightly slurred voice.
"Whoa," said Noah. "You okay?"
"F-fine," she muttered, wiping her eyes. "What's going on?"
"Yeah, it'll be over soon," he replied, still alarmed. "Roxy, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," she said in a broken voice. "I'm fine, all right?"
As the referee blew the whistle and Sydney Thomas circled the pitch, gripping the Golden Snitch victoriously in his hand, Noah stood up, helping Roxanne to her feet, and the two exited the Pitch before the crowd finished reacting to the match.
"Is she all right?" said Melanie, concerned. She didn't know Roxanne Weasley very well, but the Weasley family had been nothing but kind to her, so she had developed a close feeling towards the entirety of it.
"Of course not," said Rose. "But Noah will deal with it better than any of us can."
"And the boy told me he never had a female friend," Melanie scoffed.
"That's a total lie," said Al. "Roxanne may fancy the hell out of him, but they're, like, the closest friends ever."
"Closer than you and Rose?"
"Ew!"
"Gross!"
"Me and Rose?"
"Me and AL? Close?"
"That's disgusting."
"Seriously, Melanie, get it together."
Melanie laughed and rolled her eyes, counting her blessing to have friends like these.
There was an after-match party in the Gryffindor Common Room with food and drink Melanie had never seen before in her life. After questioning Al and Rose on every single item to the point of total and complete irritation, she finally decided to try a bit of everything. Her friends were more than a little frustrated with that decision.
"Honestly, Melanie," said Al as they settled into some chairs in the corner. "You'd think you'd know a little something about the wizarding world after this many months."
"It's like you're still a Muggle," Rose teased.
"Speaking of which, Granddad Weasley is gonna piss himself when he meets you," added Al, grinning knowingly at Rose.
"What…does that mean?" said Melanie.
"Let's just say that Granddad Weasley is…a Muggle enthusiast," said Rose with a laugh.
"No, come on, what does that mean?" Melanie repeated.
Before they could quip another answer at her, Myra traipsed up to them, carrying an almost empty bottle of firewhiskey.
"Oh, bloody hell. Bloody, bloody hell," she said in a slurred voice. "That…that was an-an awesome match, that was. So awesome. So bloody awesome."
"Myra," said Al, trying to hold back laughter. "You might wanna turn in early."
"What? No, come on," she said, her voice jumping octaves. "I'm gunna have, like, th'best night ever."
"Oh, Myra!" cried James, swooping in from behind her and seizing her by the waist. "How are you doing, there?"
"She's doing drunk," said Al, giving his brother a warning look. Melanie took this to mean, 'Don't take advantage of her when she's like this, prat.'
"Come on, Al," said James with a smile. "You know I'm not a total arse."
"But you're close," said Rose. "So away you go. And be careful."
As they moved to the throng of Gryffindors in the middle of the common room and began dancing like monkeys ready to mate, Melanie turned to her friends.
"So is it always like this?"
"Like what?" said Rose, absentmindedly swaying to the music.
"Are the parties always like this?"
"Mostly," said Al. "But this wasn't that great of a match. Sometimes, when the match is really good, there's a big party with all the students."
"Oh yeah," said Rose, grinning. "Those parties are really, really fun."
"Damn," Melanie sighed. "I wish I'd been at Hogwarts longer. When I think of all the parties I missed…"
From the middle of the dance floor, Myra let out a loud whoop, making James laugh rather hysterically.
"Is he that type?" Melanie asked.
"What type?"
"You know," she said. "The type to get it on with drunk girls."
"Yes," said Al, rolling his eyes, "but not Myra."
"Never Myra," Rose added.
"Why not Myra?"
"Because," said Rose, "she's his best friend and he loves her. Not like she loves him, which is, like, absolutely crazy, but like he loves us. Like a sister."
"Whoa!" said Al, putting his hands up in defense. "Just saying, for the record, James does not love me."
Rose swatted him over the head. "Stop being such a boy."
"Er, Rose, like an hour ago you were gagging about being close to Al," Melanie pointed out.
"Seriously, you need to stop saying that."
"Yeah, Melanie, like, what's your problem?"
Across the room, Roxanne was lying on a cushy chair with her eyes shut, gripping the bridge of her nose as if trying to soothe a headache. Noah sat on the windowsill behind her, allowing his fingers to mingle with hers lightly.
"You've got to stop worrying about it," he was saying.
She did nothing but moan in feeble protest.
"I'm serious, Roxy," he continued. "I can't believe you spent the whole match like that."
"It wasn't my fault," she mumbled. "I-I just can't take it sometimes."
"Roxy," he murmured, shaking his head.
"Noah, in less than a year, he's gonna be gone, and if they never make up by then…" She trailed off, unable to finish her sentence.
"Listen to me," he said, gripping her hand more firmly. "You can't keep doing that to yourself. It's not your problem to fix, it's his. Just let it go."
"When did you become such a wise, old man?" she teased weakly, peering at him through one eye.
He smirked at her. "Don't tell anyone, yeah? I've got the Noah Rep to protect."
"I can't believe you just named your reputation."
"Hey, it deserves a name!" he protested.
Sighing, Roxanne pulled her hand out of his and sat up, smiling at him appreciatively. "Thanks," she said. "I'm feeling better now. I think I'll turn in, though. He's coming over here, and I really can't take any more of it."
"Think about what I said," he called after her as she walked away, but she didn't respond to him.
Solemnly, Noah watched as James danced with a wilder-than-ever Myra and wondered what he had ever done to her. It seemed like they had never got on well, despite Noah's best efforts. He was still staring at her when Fred approached him.
"What's up, Noah?" he said, following his gaze, and turning back to look at him incredulously when he realized what he was looking at. "No way."
"What?" said Noah distractedly.
Fred let out a disbelieving laugh. "No way!" he repeated. "You're into Myra Peyton?"
"What?!" cried Noah. "Shut up, Fred! Why the hell would I be into Myra?"
Shrugging, Fred said, "I don't know. You tell me."
"Well, I'm not."
"That's good," said Fred, still snickering. "Because she's never gonna look at anyone other than James. Not to mention I just noticed you holding hands with my sister."
Noah shoved his friend. "I don't fancy your sister, either, Weasley. I was just being nice to her."
"Sure, sure," he said, grinning evilly. "I'm sure being nice to her was just a friendly act."
"I don't like Roxy," said Noah, glaring.
"You're the only person who calls her Roxy," Fred pointed out.
"So does your dad," Noah added, watching Fred warily out of the corner of his eye.
Fred's eyes grew dark, and he pursed his lips. It looked as though he was biting the inside of his cheeks.
"What?" Noah challenged. On any other day, he would not have dared mention Fred's father to him, but today he was quite annoyed with him.
For a moment, Fred considered chewing him out, but settled for continuing to chew his cheeks.
"You've got something to say, Fred?" he goaded.
"Shut up," Fred muttered quietly.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" said Noah mockingly; his anger seemed to be overwhelming him.
He saw Fred's fingers twitch towards his pocket, but before a scene could begin, the door to the portrait hole swung open.
"All right, all right," said a laughing Professor Scroll. She was wearing a purple dressing gown and her raven-colored hair was flowing out of a loose ponytail. Her wand was out, vanishing the food and drinks despite the protests.
"Oi, Veronica!" cried Noah in a frustrated tone, though his smile filled up his face. "Come on, aren't you glad Gryffindor won?"
"I'm very glad Gryffindor won the match, Mr. Prewett," she said, emphasizing his last name. "But it's time to get to bed. The noise is ridiculous."
"Oh, Veronica, really," said Noah, his grin broadening, if that was possible. "Who doesn't like a little noise?"
"We all like a little noise," she replied, returning his smile. "But what you've got going here is much, much more than a little."
"Come now, Veronica, have a drink," Noah insisted.
"That's Professor Scroll," she said firmly. "And no. I can't let you continue, or the headmistress will have my head."
Noah made a puppy-dog face at her for a while, but her resolve did not fade, and so he called out to the partying Gryffindors, "All right, everyone! It's time for bed!"
Loud and indignant protests erupted throughout the common room.
"Okay, okay," he said, waving them down. "My dear Veronica is insisting,"—he winked at her; she rolled her eyes—"and we've got to put down the party."
Because the food and drinks were pretty much gone by this time, everyone headed reluctantly to the dormitories.
"Thank you, Noah," said Professor Scroll. "But a little more respect would go a long way."
"Respect?" he said, looking shocked. "I give you nothing but respect, Veronica."
Rolling her eyes again, she smiled at him, said, "That'll be a detention Mr. Prewett. My office on Tuesday, five o'clock," and turned and left the common room, her black hair swinging in its ponytail. Noah stared after her as Fred watched.
"Maybe I was wrong," the Weasley muttered to himself.
"What was that?"
"Nothing, mate."
Melanie and Rose settled into their beds, chattering about the Winter Ball, which was approaching quickly.
"Who are you hoping to take?" said Melanie.
"I dunno," said Rose, shrugging. "I kind of like Mason George, you know?"
Knowingly, Melanie nodded. "Yeah, I met him once. He seemed cool."
"Yeah," her friend replied enthusiastically. "He is really cool."
"Myra said he was 'gallant,'" said Melanie.
Thoughtfully, Rose replied, "Yeah, I can see that."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, once when this Ravenclaw guy, Charles McLaggen, was bugging me, Mason totally pounded on him the next day," said Rose excitedly.
Melanie's mouth fell open. "And you aren't dating him?"
Rose giggled slightly. "No, it's like Myra said," she explained. "He's really—gallant. Really serious about girls. I'm not really interested in that."
"You aren't?"
"Well, I'm fourteen." Rose shrugged. "I don't see the point of dating seriously right now."
"Mason is really serious," a dark girl said from the bed across from them. She never spoke to them much, and Rose and Melanie had been only polite with her for the past few months.
"How do you know him?" said Melanie curiously.
"One of my friends dated him once," she said. "She broke up with him because he was too, like, long-termy."
Melanie laughed at her statement. "I'm sorry, I never got your name."
"Oh, Merlin, what have I been doing all this time!" cried Rose. "Melanie, this is Fatima Thomas. Fatima, this is—"
"I know Melanie," said Fatima shyly.
"Fatima's dad was at school with Uncle Harry and my mum and dad," Rose explained. "Hey, Fatima, are you coming to the Burrow for Christmas."
"No," she said, shaking her head. "Mrs. Weasley invited us, but we're way too busy."
"Oh," said Rose, looking genuinely disappointed. "I was looking forward to seeing your brother."
"Me too," said Fatima excitedly. "My mum says he's gotten much bigger since I left."
"He's a baby?" said Melanie.
"Yeah, he's eight months old now."
The two girls squealed and Melanie smiled. She'd never been very into babies, but she had to admit that they were somewhat cute. When she was eleven years old, a baby had spit up on her, and since then she'd never liked the tiny humans much.
They chatted until Alex Rivers squawked at them to shut up so that she could enjoy her "beauty rest," and, chortling, drifted off to sleep.
"Something isn't right," said Rose as she sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. Then, she let out an earsplitting scream.
With startled cries, the other fourth year girls, woke up, (Alex Rivers fell out of her bed) and mimicked Rose almost immediately.
Suspended before them was a bloody, mutilated corpse, grinning frighteningly.
"Oh my bloody Merlin!" screeched Alex, running out the door.
"Oh my God, what is that?"
"Where did that come from?!"
"How did this happen?!"
"Bloody hell, bloody hell, that's so GROSS!"
"WHO did this?!"
Within moments, Professor Scroll had burst into the dormitory and ushered the girls out so that Professor McGonagall could see what had happened. Several girls had vomited violently in the common room, and some were shaking and crying hysterically. It was safe to say that whoever had left the corpse in the dorm had wreaked perfect havoc. After some time, nearly all of Gryffindor was back in the common room, but this time nobody bothered with them.
The Gryffindor members of the Royal Group were huddled together, talking about what had happened.
"This is completely ridiculous," said Roxanne, who was holding on to her brother's hand tightly.
"Who do you think that is?" Fred whispered.
"Fred!" cried Eden. "That's horrible!"
"What?" said Fred, shrugging. "Don't you think whoever it is deserves to be known?"
"Yes, but…but that's still disgusting!" she said. Xander wrapped his arm around her shoulder warmly.
"You two saw it, right?" said Noah, looking at Rose and Melanie. The former, who seemed extremely unwilling to talk about the experience, merely nodded and gagged slightly.
"Yeah, we did," said Melanie wearily. "And it was really, really gross."
"Did they do it to just scare the living hell out of everyone?" said James, who was holding up a squinting Myra.
"Probably," Rose muttered, still disgusted.
"Then we know who it was," James said excitedly.
"I know that's what we're all thinking," said Fred seriously, "but maybe we should be, like, more careful about it this time."
"What do you mean?" said Noah. The tension between them had dissolved now that they had something over which to unite.
"I mean that last time Spook did something, he got away without a scratch," said Fred. "We don't want that to happen this time."
"So you're saying we should be quiet about it?" said Xander.
"I'm saying we shouldn't jump to the conclusion that Spook did it," said Fred quietly.
"Are you serious?" said James, with a shocked expression. "We have to nail him right away! How are we going to do that if we don't assume it was him?"
"Please don't shout, James," Myra groaned, clearly hung over.
"He's not shouting, Myra," said Melanie, smirking. "Maybe she should go back to bed."
"Unfortunately, that won't be possible," said a curt voice behind them. They looked over to see Professor McGonagall addressing the entire house. "We have to seal off the whole of Gryffindor Tower to investigate this."
"Is it real?" someone called. A wondering murmur spread through the common room.
"The corpse is NOT real," confirmed Professor Scroll, though she looked quite pale. "It is a fake corpse made of rubber, plastic, and other materials that has been magically enhanced to look and-and feel real." She turned a sickly green color and gagged slightly as her voice and breath caught and her eyes rolled back into her head.
"Professor Scroll!" said Professor McGonagall sharply as the young professor seized her arm to steady herself. "Do you need to be escorted to the Hospital Wing?"
"I'll take her," Noah volunteered immediately. He bounded up to her and very gently took Professor Scroll by the waist, beginning to lead her out of the room. "You okay, Veronica?" he asked quietly. The raven-haired woman merely groaned in response.
"As Professor Scroll was saying," Professor McGonagall continued after Noah and Professor Scroll had exited the room, "the corpse is fake. However, we need to examine the entire tower for any magical evidence left behind."
"Where are we going to stay?" said James.
"I was getting to that, Mr. Potter," she said. "I think you all know where you must stay."
The students exchanged confused looks and Fred called out, "What does that mean? Where else are we supposed to sleep?"
"Mr. Weasley," said Professor McGonagall, turning to look hard into the tan boy's eyes. He fidgeted uncomfortably. "We teachers are not fools; we are perfectly aware that Hogwarts students—in particular, you Gryffindors—host parties on your own quite often. No doubt, the venue for these parties is satisfactory for temporary quarters?"
Almost every member of the Royal Group wore identical sheepish expressions. Finally, Xander cleared his throat. "Er, yeah. Yeah, it'll be perfect," he said.
"Very well. Do you need an escort?"
"No, thanks," said Fred. "We've got it."
As the entire Gryffindor House made its way to the seventh floor to enter the Room of Requirement, whispers condemning Spook scattered themselves through the group.
"It was definitely him."
"He cursed Lucy Weasley, didn't he?"
"How do you think he did it?"
"Why would he do this?"
"See, this is what I mean," whispered Fred. "We can't do this. We can't assume it was Spook."
"Why the hell not?" demanded James.
"Because if we do then we're gonna overlook something he might have missed!"
"Missed?" Xander repeated.
"You know—magical evidence or whatever McGonagall said," said Fred.
"Like, if Spook did do it, then if we attack him right away, he's gonna have more time to cover his tracks," said Melanie.
"How?" asked Al. "If we attack him right away, doesn't that mean he'll get less time to cover his tracks?"
"Thank you, Al!" said James, smiling victoriously. "I never thought I'd say this, but you are a smart one."
"Shut up, James," said Al.
"See, normally that would make sense," said Melanie, "but in this case, we—or at least you all—are way too emotionally involved in this thing. It makes sense, I mean, he seriously hurt your cousin, but then when you attack him you go almost blindly."
"I get what you're saying," Rose said hesitantly. "But then what are we supposed to do?"
"We're supposed to do it logically," said Fred, as they approached the door to the Room of Requirement.
When they pulled the heavy door open, exclamations of amazement overcame the Gryffindors. Adorned with red and gold banners, the room was enormous and extremely comfortable looking. The walls were lined with beds that had velvety red coverings and fluffy white pillows. A fire burned welcomingly in two of the walls, and soothing music played softly overhead. A dim chandelier twinkled above them as tiny, sparkling lights floated all around the room. In the middle of the room, about seventy mugs carrying steaming hot chocolate rested on a huge, round table.
"Blimey," cried James, seizing Myra's hand and dragging her to the middle of the room. "Why the hell do we even stay in Gryffindor Tower when we have something like this?"
"Face it, James," said Melanie, smirking at him. "If the entire Gryffindor House was just somehow not there in Gryffindor Tower every night, the staff would definitely do something about it."
"How would they know?" he argued as he sipped his hot chocolate, moaning with delight.
"Are you joking?" she said, laughing. "There would be no noise coming from the tower!"
For a moment, James was silent, looking thoughtful. Then, he nodded. "You're right," he conceded. "No way we could get away with being quiet for a night without making everyone in the entire castle totally suspicious and uncomfortable." Suddenly, his eyes lit up. "Hey, I thought of an excellent prank!" he shouted, prancing over to the seventh year boys.
Chortling, Melanie took a mug of hot chocolate and led Myra to the beds that Fatima Thomas and Rose occupied.
"So, who thinks no one is gonna sleep for the rest of the night?" said Melanie.
"Me," cried Rose. "Definitely me."
"I do, too," said Fatima.
"I would really, really like to sleep," Myra muttered. "But somehow, I don't think I'm going to be able to."
"Is the hangover still going strong?" said Rose sympathetically.
The curly-haired girl groaned. "Not so much anymore. I just…feel like an idiot," she said hopelessly.
"What do you mean?" said Melanie.
Myra let out a wistful sigh. "I'm-I'm completely, totally, without a doubt, ridiculously, head-over-heels crazy for James."
Rose, Melanie, and Fatima cheered in unison, causing Myra to pout indignantly.
"Hey!" she cried.
"Sorry," said Melanie, snickering. "We've been waiting for you to say that."
"We've been waiting for much longer than she has," said Rose, gesturing to the entire room.
Myra shoved her jokingly. "Shut up."
Rose shoved her back, laughing. "So, what's the problem?" she said.
"Why would you even ask me that?" she said despairingly, throwing herself face-first onto the bed.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, Melanie, that there's no way in hell James would fancy me back," said Myra, her voice muffled by the pillow she had stuffed her face into.
"Oh, come ON, Myra!" said Rose impatiently. "You're not seriously letting that get you down?"
Lifting herself up slightly, Myra peeked up at Rose. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Because!" she cried, "you're Myra Peyton! You're, like, the toughest girl in the entire house! You don't let boys get in the way of your stride."
With a pathetic wail, Myra dropped her face back onto her pillow. "Except for James Potter."
"Myra, you're his best friend," said Melanie. "He's got to have something for you under his, er, virile exterior."
The three girls giggled as Myra glared at them. "This is the first time I've properly said it out loud," she admitted. "And now I don't know what to do."
"Matters of the heart should not be kept in the heart," said Rose wisely. "You should tell him."
Myra looked horrified. "No! I can't do that!"
"Why not?" said Melanie.
"He's-He's my best friend! What if he doesn't like me back? Then I won't even be friends with him anymore!" she cried, looking heartbroken at that mere thought.
"Myra, can I say something?" said Fatima, speaking for the first time.
"What?" said Myra harshly.
"Well," she said, not quivering for a second under the older girl's piercing glare, "it seems to me that James cares for you so much that he'd do just about anything for you."
"Yeah, so?"
"So, if you were to tell him you fancy him, and he didn't fancy you back, then don't you think he'd make every effort to keep you as a friend?" she said.
"I don't get it."
"Basically, he'd probably be pretty nice about it and then try to go back to normal as much as possible, because he'd know that's how you'd want it, and it would also be how he'd want it. Right?"
Melanie and Rose exchanged looks of surprise; they hadn't known this girl they'd almost never talked to would have so much insight.
Myra thought for a moment, the fear continuing to grip her insides as if trying to crush them into a fine powder. James was someone she valued like a family member, like more than a family member. And she would never risk that for anything. But what Fatima was proposing seemed like there was no risk at all in telling this amazing, wonderful boy how amazing and wonderful she thought he was. Could she do it?
"I'll think about it," she finally said. "Maybe around Christmas."
"We'll be sure to stick some charmed mistletoe over your heads," teased Rose, her eyes twinkling.
A/N: Okay, so Myra has finally admitted her feelings! We'll see what happens next!
~Maya
