She sighed as she showed up at the Dursley home nine in the morning on July fourteenth. It was... disorienting, what she was about to be walking into. She carried her owl in a cage, and when she knocked on the door, it opened before she could open knock twice. And Dudley was there, kissing her so soundly her legs felt weak.

"Hey," Aquila greeted with a sad giggle. She took a deep breath and stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. The house was quiet.

"Mum's at the grocery story. She said she'd be back soon-"

She hugged him to her, breathing in his scent, his essence. "I'm going to miss you."

Her poor bird squawked from its cage in distress at her hurried movements. "You're going to kill your bloody bird." She giggled, pressed her face to his chest, and just waited a moment, drinking in his presence. But Dudley took the cage from her, and led her to the sun room.

"You'll write me?" Aquila asked him, the owl Vernon was a tad against having stretching its wings in the four-seasons room as Dudley let it out of the cage. Dudley nodded immediately. "I won't be able to reply, but I will read them. I promise that much."

"A year break, then?" Dudley asked.

Aquila nodded. "Whatever we want with whoever we want." She let out a small breath. "And once the year's up... we'll meet again, I'm sure." He shuffled slightly, the owl beside him squawking as Dudley got a little too close to his perch. "I do love you," she told him quietly. "I'm glad you were a bully... or we'd have never have met."

He laughed, his hand rubbing his neck. "I don't like this, you know."

"School is school," Aquila sighed. "Quidditch is quidditch. I can't change that."

"I couldn't ask you to." He tugged her towards him suddenly, kissing her as though they would never kiss again. And Aquila felt something cool go around her neck. He pulled away, his hands falling to his sides. "Keep it. If you can't write me... you can look at that instead."

"I'll try to talk to you as often as I can," Aquila promised. Her hands went to the dogtags, warily. "I shouldn't keep these-"

"Give them back later, then."

She could agree to that. She just didn't want to lose them. "Okay..." Her eyes darted to her hands clasped in front of her. "Take this." She slid the ring off of her finger. Her father's ring... her family ring. Merlin, she hated to part with it, but it meant as much to her as these dogtags meant to Dudley. "It's always been my good luck charm... It was my fathers... When I was little, he'd give it to me to play with for hours on end..." Dudley started to protest, but she closed his hand around it. "Please... Take care of it for me." She hugged him tightly. "I'm going to miss you."

"I think I'll miss you more."

She laughed into his shoulder, tears appearing in her eyes. Still laughing, she pulled away and wiped at her eyes. "I don't usually cry. I'm not a sap."

He moved towards the tearing girl, hugging her tightly once more. "It'll be fast. We'll see each other again before you know it."

She nodded, her arms clutching him as though he'd disappear... "Blink of an eye."

But there was no time to say and do all that she wanted to, so she did her best. "I love you."

"I love you," Dudley murmured into her hair.

The trials were.. nearly barren when she arrived, apparating a few rows above Ireland and staring at the stands around her. Hardly anyone was there, this year. Teams wouldn't be able to fill all of the empty spots.

"Hey, there's Black!"

Aquila glanced up, a brief smile towards Seamus. "Angelina here yet?"

"Down with her boyfriend," Seamus said, nodding towards the Ireland team. Aquila couldn't go down there. Against the rules and all that. So, she sat down on the bench and felt along the confines of her bag, her mind wandering to the long year ahead. Merlin, this was going to be... rough.

Her fingers came across a plastic object in her bag and she hesitated before pulling it out, seeing that it was... a Muggle mobile? But... she didn't own one. She flipped it open, a piece of yellow paper fluttering out. She caught it before it could fly away and squinted to read the small handwriting. Merlin, Dudley's handwriting was a bit horrible.

Bet Muggle communication wasn't on the list of things not to communicate with, right? My number's programmed and so are a few minutes.

He didn't know... did he? Muggle technology didn't work on magical grounds.

Aquila approached Seamus, swallowing. She hated disappointing him. "Seamus? I need you to save my spot. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Where ya going, lass?" Seamus asked.

"Muggle ground."

She apparated, leaving her things behind, flipping open the cellphone and studying the numbers and things before she pressed the menu button. A selection of options showed up and it took a while, but she found Dudley's number and pressed the green button, as it dictated. And then it was ringing as she brought it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Dudley?" Aquila asked quietly.

"Yeah, you found it-"

"Muggle technology doesn't work in the Wizarding World... Radios are adapted to run off of our magic... They don't get Muggle frequencies because they aren't compatable... We don't have electricity. Or... anything like that. As soon as I get to a Wizarding location, the phone won't work."

"Oh... I was trying to be slick."

She giggled, surveying the field around her. "I know you were. I wish it worked... but it's not going to. I'm sorry."

"Me too... Where are you?"

"Some field, I had to apparate away from the pitch to use it... I'll see you in July, okay?"

"Yeah... Love you."

"I love you," Aquila murmured. And she pulled it away from her ear as she heard a dialtone. A hang up. And they were separated once more. He was angry though. She could hear it in his voice, the disappointment, the anger. She took a deep breath and apparated back to the pitch, knowing that it was a choice she had just made.

And she had to choose Quidditch for a better possible future. For both of them.

Her tent with Angelina and the Johnson parents was ... small, but still it was safe, protected. It was right besides the Ireland tent so that it was still protected by their wards. And she could hear their raging party every night as they partied. She didn't want to be jealous, but... she could really use the alcohol.

Mr. and Mrs. Johnson didn't leave her alone. They refused to do so, stating that she was in just as much danger alone as she would be on Privet Drive.

"I don't understand," Aquila said quietly. "They can't locate her? Not even a magical signature? Nothing?"

Mrs. Johnson shook her head. "The fingers are hers, we can determine that, but the potion for locating her ... it came back in conclusive. She doesn't exist."

"But she does," Aquila argued. "The dating on each finger was three days. Each had a different date. She's still alive."

"And Sirius thought that too, and it made him weak and he died because he was emotionally unstable-"

"Are you sure that wasn't Azkaban?" Aquila snapped. She sighed at the documents laid out before her on the tent's table. "She's alive, you know that just as well as the Order does. But we're not trying to find her because who knows what state she's in? Is she even human anymore?" Aquila shook her head, glancing down at the files. "She's been there for what? Thirteen years? Fifteen? Could you imagine what she's gone-"

"What did you say?" Mr. Johnson asked suddenly.

"She's probably been through hell," Aquila said slowly. "Why?"

"No, the human part..." He gave a snort of laughter. "What if she's been changed? We're all bloody idiots."

"A werewolf, you think?" Aquila asked. Her eyes scanned the report. "You never tested the blood?"

"The potion wouldn't work if you're not fully human," Mrs. Johnson whispered. "Oh, bloody hell, we need to tell the Order-"

"While everyone's at the pitch, tomorrow."

Which meant Aquila wasn't included. She sighed and pushed the file away from her. "Is this all I'm going to be doing for the next year?"

"No, you're going to be playing Quidditch. Your Order contact is limited due to Ireland's training schedule," Mr. Johnson stated. "You'll only be told things that are essential to know-"

"But that's not fair!" Aquila cried. "Surely there's... something, I don't know, a way I can help- I mean, Ireland said no contact with-"

"With anyone but Quidditch," he stated firmly. "That includes the Order-"

"But that's ... not helpful to the War," Aquila countered. "That's not what they meant. They meant-"

"It was anyone but Quidditch, Aquila, you know that," Mr. Johnson stated. She knew it meant no Dudley, not... "So, you will hear the intel, but not do anything with it-"

"But I can help," Aquila insisted. "He's been sending the fingers to me - to Sirius- Why is he only targeting the Blacks?"

"Has your brother received any?"

"He would have contacted us if he had," Aquila said quietly. "So, it's not everyone, okay? There's a reason, right? What is the reason-"

"That's something for you to figure out. You're the only one that's getting them now... You're the only one that knows what they are for. But you just have to figure it out." Aquila didn't know. She didn't even know how Evan got her address. How in the world could she figure out a reason for the fingers?

So that was what she did. Immediately following her trial, she sat in the stands, sweaty, the unusual sunshine beating down on her, as she did Arithmancy calculations, searching tirelessly for something resembling a motive.

On Announcement day, she barely heard, "Aquila Black, Right-Hand Beater, Ireland National Quidditch Team." It felt bloody good to hear it, but it meant she wasclosed off from everyone else. Closed off for... the foreseeable future.

"Nothing?" Mr. Johnson asked as the fireworks shot into the sky that night? She shook her head, folding the file and then shoving it into her bag. Nothing. "I'll take your bag. You go celebrate... Congrats, Aquila."

"And congrats to Angelina," Aquila returned with a small smile. The girl had, after all, made it onto the Harpies. She left her bag with Mr. Johnson before climbing down the stands, to the Ireland team passing around a few bottles of firewhiskey.

"Ella!" Tara cried. She pulled Aquila down to her level, giving the girl a big hug. "Congrats! Merlin, I almost thought you weren't going to make it-"

"Pretty distracted," Lynch commented. "What was in your head?"

"It's not important," Aquila insisted. She gave them all a smile, accepting a bottle of firewhiskey. "Shall we drink like we're Irish, or just party?"

"Bloody hell, we have to choose?" Morgan cried. Aquila laughed and it was how she spent her celebration. And when she awoke, in the Ireland tent, it was seven in the morning and her bag was being dropped onto her, followed by her broom.

A man was standing there, one she wasn't familiar with, with an expression that clearly displayed distaste. "We're gunna be late, lass. Time to train."

She groaned. This was not going to be fun.

The man was Sean O'Dael, and he vowed she would hurt before they even got started, and he was right. He was in his mid-forties, but sweet Rowena, could he fly. Her daily training started with extensive laps around the pitch, each lap escalating in speed until she reached her brooms limit. Then drop drills, which she would simply drop her broom, and ride from five hundred feet to about five feet - the fast she went the less drops she would have to do. Each drop made her feel like she was going to vomit, since it wasn't really that controlled... she just sort of willed the broom to fall - it was different than diving.

Following those drills, the team arrived at the pitch, and they began other drills - calling out plays, positions - and then once the team left, Aquila had to stay, O'Dael throwing her dummy bludgers she needed to hit back to him - and if she got out of a five foot range of him, she had to start all over until she hit a hundred with perfect precision.

And her limbs burned. Every morning and every evening she would have to head to the pitch, even during school, and it meant no time for socializing, very little time for homework, and a brutal amount of time for training. She felt like she was going to die. Her train ride to Hogwarts was her day off - her only day off, she was informed, and she laid in her compartment, taking shallow breaths to keep from moving too much.

"I'll have to say it now before you're better and can potentially hurt me for it," Katie Bell said and Aquila groaned. "Angelina's training schedule is three times a week and all they do are normal practices."

"I hate you, and her," Aquila muttered. "So much."

"Yours?"

"Dawn and dusk trainings," she muttered. "Every weekend I have a game or all day trainings... Bloody hell, I don't even know if I'll be able to train my own team. It'll have to be before breakfast practices, or maybe right after dinner, before I report to mine. And it's bloody hell. Like ... there's hell, Katie, and then there's bloody hell. And this is bloody hell."

"You look like hell," she commented.

"Bloody hell," Aquila murmured. "And it's so quiet in here without the twins and Lee... And Ang and Alicia. We're alone."

"Quiet? I find it peaceful," Katie muttered.

"I still could use a massage," Aquila added.

"Still? How long have you been asking for one?"

"I thought that my groaning and inability to move was request enough... think you could find a hot seventh year to give my muscles a break?" Katie snorted, but Aquila felt a ping at the request. Dudley... She missed him. It had only been a month and she missed him more than anything. His letters were every other day, and she had almost predicted them to the dime when they arrived. And it made her feel so warm to see them, to read them, and then send her owl back on its way... empty-handed... it hurt, and it had to hurt him. "Or just anyone, really. I don't care at this point."

"I'll see what I can do," Katie sighed. She stood, moving towards the door. "Anything from the trolley?"

"Death would be nice."

"You're dramatic." Aquila knew.

Dear Aquila,

It's bloody weird writing on this ancient paper. Don't you guys know what real paper is? I mean, it's probably a lot easier to use, and it's not this ancient - I'm sending some with you so maybe you can try and convert your world. Because I feel like I'm in a bloody medieval times movie and need to ready my quill and inkwell, or I'm a monk in a monastery or whatever. It's weird. But whatever.

Mum's been asking after you, but I told her I don't know what's going on. I assume you're alright. Angelina visited, though, and told me you made the team and about your training schedules. I suppose, after everything, you're doing alright. Though it sounds like hell. Like, a hell that is on fire and you're probably exhausted afterwards. Apparently Lynch has been updating her on your life - I don't know if it's for make sake, or hers. She's a little worried, too.

The twins sent me some more of those things that make you sick, but I took your advice from last time I used them, and decided to just burn them. They stunk horribly, like burning plastic or maybe a live dog. And your bloody owl still doesn't like me, even though I give it every treat it demands. I don't know what it is. Maybe it thinks I kidnapped it, and periodically send it out to you?

Piers has been throwing parties like crazy to counter the parties Nott's been throwing. He's making a lot of friends in the Muggle community (I think that's how you spell Muggle, anyhow), and he's always at every party Piers throws. He's a bit of a creepy guy, but now that he's at your fancy boarding school, Piers has relaxed a tad. He hates rivals - and I'm pretty sure he threatened to beat Nott up at least twice this summer.

I miss you... a lot more than I expected. I figured that writing you would be alright, but... it's sort of... not helping like I wanted it to. At least you're okay. I watch the news every day now, because of what happened in London. And since you tuned our radio into that news channel, that's the only station we get - thanks for that. But it's a bit more informing than the tele. How's your school? Not that you'll answer or anything but I feel weird just writing this like a diary entry.

I just feel weird not being able to hear back. Weird. I've been unable to play rugby this year, because I've been getting these breathing attacks. The doctor thinks it's just asthma, so it's nothing major. That's weird, too. I haven't done anything to develop it, but maybe that Dementor attack did something to me. I've felt different since.

Love, Dudley.

She sighed as she cast another page of calculations into the fire, rubbed her eyes from her lack of sleep, and then grabbed her quill to start more. Something had to add up right. Something had to work. Evan Rosier didn't just cut someone's fingers off for spite. There was a reason. What did he want?

"What are you up to?" Her eyes flitted up to see Cho Chang, her eyes as though nothing had ever transpired between them, and her gaze on the parchment in front of Aquila.

"Are you here for something, Chang? Or are you just trying to get into my business?"

She sat down, a few feet over from Aquila, but still close enough that Aquila felt like she might vomit from her proximity. "I... I just wanted to say I'm sorry, for everything I've done and said to you..."

Aquila snorted. This was happening now? Two years past, and it was happening now. "Noted."

"I... I was just jealous because ... he wasn't going to stay with me forever, Cedric... He was going to go back to you-"

"Right," Aquila muttered, flipping the parchment over.

"-and he really did love you-"

"Look, Chang, I don't care, alright?" Aquila snapped, glancing up at her fellow Ravenclaw. "I've moved on. I don't care what happened. I really don't. He's dead and nothing's going to change that, alright? He got his fun, and he's gone now. So you don't have to keep acting like you stole him from me, you don't have to act like you're sorry, because at the end of the day you don't regret it, so I'm not in the mood to hear it. You still did it. We were best friends and you slept with my boyfriend, alright? That fact isn't going to change-"

"I never said it was right," Cho rushed out. "I'm just saying I'm sorry. You didn't deserve it, Aquila. And he didn't deserve it-"

"He was a big boy. He could make his own decisions."

"He... He was sorry, too." Aquila swallowed at the look on her old friend's face. It was remorse. It was honest sadness. "I ... I didn't ever mean for it to happen, but when it did... I..." She sighed. "And when he asked me to the ball, he told me that you weren't even going to be there, and that's why he asked me, because-"

"I always stay for Christmas, Chang," Aquila said flatly. "He knew that as well. Don't fucking lie to me, to my face. You knew the truth. Don't try to make him out to be a good person. He blew it, and I won't forgive him for it-"

"He's dead, you said it yourself. How can you not forgive him-"

"Just because someone's dead doesn't mean that everything they've done can be forgiven," Aquila said sharply. "We don't forgive Grindlewald for his crimes, do we? Will we forgive You-Know-Who for his? No. And you know that. He cheated on me, broke my heart, and you helped, so... I won't forgive him, just as I won't forgive you, alright?"

Cho glanced away from her, as if struck by the declaration. "We're all on the same side, Aquila."

"Just because I don't like you doesn't mean you're my enemy," Aquila muttered. She paused in her calculations, cursing and crumpling it, throwing it in the fire. "If it came down to it, I would fight with you in battle. But we're not looking close to a battle anytime soon, just a slaughter. And I'm trying to figure something out, so if you can leave me alone-"

"You're forgetting Gardler's equation when you add the destiny variables," Chang spoke up, standing. "But I'm leaving you alone now, so you can't tell me how it calculates." Aquila paused, frowning at the equation she had started on. Chang was right. She crossed off a few lines, glanced up, but Cho Chang was already gone. Aquila let out a breath, a breath of frustration, but also a breath that conveyed how much she wished things were different. But she was stubborn, she was... well, not going to forgive her ex-best friend, because... she wouldn't have done that to her. She wouldn't have done it to anyone.