Authors Note: Thank you for reviewing and following and everything. This chapter has a bit of everything. Hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: J.K Rowling owns Harry Potter.

Fred was late.

Well, that being said, this was not an unusual occurrence for the Gryffindor boy. Fred liked to think of rules as mere guidelines rather than something to live your life by.

"Ahh, Mr Weasley," greeted Professor Slughorn with a joyful disappointment in his voice. "Late again?"

Fred shot his most winning smile at the old teacher and replied, "You know me, professor. Always like to make an entrance." Slughorn gave him a doting look and turned back to the front of the class. Fred strolled slowly to his seat, enjoying the luxury of being in the teacher's favour, but hurried when he saw Cordelia's disapproving stare.

"Gee your girlfriend's scary," said Fred in a carrying whisper. Cordelia whirled around in her seat from the table where she sat with Hazel and a couple of Ravenclaw students.

"Yes Fred, I am so scary," she hissed. "And if you don't shut up I will show you just how scary I can be." After this proclamation, Cordelia twisted back to face the front, showing no sign of her threatening nature.

James leant back on his chair, a beaming smile spreading across his face as it tended to do in the aftermath of interaction with the blond prefect. "Who'd you kill?" asked Fred casually, looking amusedly at his cousin.

"No one, don't worry," replied James, rearranging his features and focusing on Slughorn's words.

"Moments when you know James is lying," said Fred to Henry. "When he pays attention to the teachers." Henry started to laugh, hiding the noise behind his cauldron.

An indignant look was shot their way. "Hey! I'm paying avid attention. I'm really interested in the …" he squinted at the board. "Products and Uses of Stegosaur Senescence." James smirked at his apparent win.

"I believe what you meant to say was, Products and Uses of Hellebore Essence," clarified Jasper, concealing a small smile.

"In potions, James," started Henry condescendingly, barely able to contain his glee. "We learn about potions, not the effects of old age on dinosaurs." Fred burst out laughing, soon followed by his two other friends. James pouted and flipped them off.

Someone moved in front of them and the four boys realised they were supposed to have started on their potions. "Did my eyes deceive me or did James just point the finger at Slughorn?" said Hazel seriously.

"Yes, James was unhappy with the quality of handwriting the dear old professor displayed today," said Fred, grinning at his embarrassed friend.

"James?" questioned Cordelia, joining Hazel at the table and peering over the boy's shoulder. "Why have you written this heading on your-, never mind, I really don't want to know." She walked off, shaking her head, entertained as always by James' faults.

"I hate you," said James bluntly as his friends cried with mirth.

Hazel patted him forcefully on the back. "Cheer up, James," she said, uncharacteristically nice. "She's still yet to realise how out of your league she is."

"Thanks Hazel," said James sarcastically. "After conversations with you I always get this warm, happy feeling." Hazel sneered at him and went to help her friend with their potion.

"So, what were you smiling about before?" asked Henry, obviously trying to cheer him up. Henry was always weak when it came to mockery; Fred always let it sit for a few days then surprised them with a 'just messing with you'. Although funny, this practise had earned him his fair share of slaps from girls … and one centaur, funnily enough.

James' expression instantly brightened again. "Cordelia turned around when you titled her as my girlfriend." All three boys grinned and shook their heads, utterly confused by the amount of dedication their friend had to the one girl who would turn him down.

"You're completely mental mate," said Fred, who preferred to move along when it came to girls; Hazel could probably understand.

"I know," replied James, happily watching Cordelia bend over to lift her bag.

Ella walked through the school, waving to the people she knew and turning her nose up at those whom she didn't like. Everyone seemed to be faintly afraid of pissing her off because Ella didn't take any prisoners.

"Hey baby," she said cheerfully to her boyfriend who was lounging outside of the Charms classroom. "How long have you been waiting?"

"Er …" started Louis. "About ten minutes."

His girlfriend placed a hand on his chest and said sorrowfully, "I am so sorry. Amber had all this stuff to tell me about Mathew and Jessica's breakup and I just couldn't resist. Forgive me?"

"I could never stay angry with you," replied Louis, sweeping her into a long kiss. Ella swung her arms around his neck and made the kiss deeper. They broke apart to the sound of applause; all their friends were watching.

You should try holding your breath that long in conversations," said Hazel, looking mildly impressed.

Ella grinned but bashfully, no one liked an attention seeker. They walked into Charms and the issue was instantly forgotten.

The back seats were always Ella's choice, free from the teacher's watchful gaze so she could do anything she wanted. Some days she would sit with Beatrice but it had been hard to get back into the habit after their fight. At this thought Ella shook her head to get rid of the bad thoughts. Move on, she told herself. For someone of Ella's personality, admitting she did something wrong was very difficult. She believed in a system where one stood tall by their actions, no matter the consequences. And yes, she had been a defensive, idiotic, stupid bitch when it came to how she treated them (Hazel's exact words), but it was water under the bridge.

Placing her bag on the floor, Ella elegantly sat down in her chair, pointedly leaving the spot next to her open for Louis who took up her offer. A faint look of confusion passed over her face at this action although it had been repeated many times; why would Louis want to be with her?

The class passed without fault and Professor Flitwick (all the teachers were so old) gave them all buckets of homework and study guidelines. It didn't seem the teachers cared at all about anything other than work. Ella prided herself on not being an idiot, but she really had better things to be doing

The great hall was packed for lunch as Ella walked in a short time later. Everyone basked in the little free time they had before exams; students became more rowdy and jumpy and the teachers became a little too detention-happy.

As she walked down between the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tables, Ella spotted a few seventh years eying her small group of friends. One of the funniest things about being with the particular friends she had was that they (with the exception of Hazel) didn't know how beautiful they were. Cordelia would get a nice surprise next year when boys started to gain the confidence to ask her out; a trait that developed early in people with the name of James Potter. Thankfully they had Ella to educate them on such matters.

Although … without her friends, Ella was sort of alone. Everyone else she knew were either intimidated or disgusted by her certain behaviours.

"You alright?" called Cordelia over a steak and pepper pie. "Would you like a formal invitation to dine with us?"

Ella laughed and shook her head, joining her friends in the conversation about Henry's bow tie, completely ignoring Henry who was spouting random defensive arguments.

"What's that?" asked Bea suddenly, interrupting the ruthless teasing. Ella looked up and her brow furrowed; what was that doing there?

"Owl's come in the morning," added James, baffled; stating a fairly obvious point.

Suddenly, Ella jumped to her feet, her heart beating fast, either with excitement or apprehension or anger. What if it was? What had it come to say? How dare they contact her now! A look of understanding crossed Bea's face and she discreetly held Ella's hand, pulling her back into a more relaxed position. The others were swapping their gazes between the owl and herself, putting two and two together.

"I have never seen you get mail," commented Hazel, realisation spreading across her face. "Not even on your – OW!" Her voice stopped when someone, presumably Cordelia, kicked her in the shin. Ella didn't mind, she knew what she had been about to say. Christmas, Birthday's, Easter, … nothing. The amount of letters she had received from her family could be totalled on one hand.

Ella didn't care anymore.

Well … it did hurt sometimes. When the castle was dark and deserted at night with no one to keep her company, those few months where she had had no friends, when she watched the other students opening up love-filled letter. In those times Ella thought: Yeah, I'd like a piece of that.

The owl fluttered down in front of her and landed way too softly for the sheer importance that this moment held for her. A letter. A letter addressed to Ella from her parents.

Trying not to make it such a big deal, Ella slit open the envelope, peering eagerly inside for the contents. She tried hard not to be disappointed when she saw the tiny amount of words printed in perfect handwriting upon the parchment.

As Ella quickly read through the lines her heart dropped, the sound around her turned muffled and her eyes glazed over, shrouded by tears. Her friends looked at each other, each unsure of what to do.

Except Beatrice.

Bea grabbed her best friends hand and squeezed. Ella didn't think she had been so grateful for anything in her life, she felt like she was drowning, swept away in sorrow. Bea would always be there for her.

"I love you," whispered Bea, tilting her head slightly to reach Ella's ear. "You know we all do. Who cares what they said? Remember you have a family here."

Ella's breath hitched at these words. They had been said numerous times over the past years but she never tired of hearing them and they never lost their power. Ella needed her friends so desperately that if she lost them again she would do anything to get them back. And yes, there had been mistakes but in the long run, their time together had been awesome.

And if her parents were going to kick her out this summer. FINE.

She would do better without them.

Our protagonist buried her head in her hands. That was it, she was quitting school and going back to the muggle world to struggle endlessly through a pile of numbers to finally win a desk job and get hundreds of toads.

Bliss.

Yes, Cordelia's study had turned out to be harder than she'd originally thought. A sheet of completed Arithmancy questions sat in front of her, teasing her with all the crosses next to them. She had misinterpreted a whole concept and now she had to learn it again.

"Okay, you need to take a break," said a voice behind her.

"No." stated Cordelia bluntly. "I need to figure out how to use the sun in calculations."

James leant forward and put a hand on her work, effectively making her eyes detach from it and focus on him. "I've been watching you for about fifteen minutes and you're just going around in circles. Come and take a break."

"You were watching me?" said Cordelia in an awed voice.

"Yes. Yes, I was," replied James, beaming with the devoted attention.

The young witch's expression faded back to the one of the sleepless pre-examination bookworm (not a good look) and she punched him in the arm.

"Ow!" exclaimed James. "What was that for?"

"I get extremely offended when I see a neglect of studies. People who don't take school seriously should be … should be …" Cordelia faded off, her gaze hazy.

The boy smirked. "Should be what?"

"Should be put in the Astronomy Tower, completely naked, to face any weather and then be unleashed into the wild to battle the giants," explained Cordelia, still with a slightly confused face.

"Okay, you've been conversing with books for too long" decided James. "That's it, you're coming with me and I don't want to hear any complaints."

As soon as he removed his hand from her work Cordelia snatched it up, effectively saving it from the would be distracter. "Where are your friends?" she questioned angrily.

"Nowhere," whined James, throwing his hands hopelessly in the air. "Henry's studying, Jasper's somewhere doing who knows what, and … I lost Fred."

Cordelia stared at him. "You lost … Fred," she repeated slowly.

"Is there something wrong with that?" asked James defensively.

"Well," started Cordelia, returning back to her books. "It could lead to a very serious situation."

James stared at her, looking like he grudgingly agreed but was still annoyed at her stubbornness. "I'm sorry," he said meaningfully.

"For what-?" began Cordelia but started screaming as she was lifted up by the legs and slung over James' shoulder, feeling all the blood rush to her head. "LET ME DOWN!" she shrieked as they left the common room. "I will kill you if you don't listen."

"Yeah? And how are you planning on doing that?" said James. Cordelia couldn't see his face but she suspected he was smirking.

His captive shrugged and sighed heavily. "With great intelligence and a few good- … wait a moment, how are you carrying me? I'm only a little shorter than you."

"With great strength and a few good-," teased James happily.

After a few more attempted escapes Cordelia stopped struggling and simply hung in the uncomfortable position, trying to ignore the stares of passers-by as they reached the lower levels. There was a sense of calmness as they moved; Cordelia swayed and she started to daydream about the time when Ella had given everyone coats because it was cold. This stopped when she realised Ella had never given anyone coats; it was probably all the blood rushing through her head.

"As a strong, independent woman, I cannot condone this practise," said Cordelia finally, her voice slightly muffled. "It feels un-empowering."

"As a strong, independent man, this is making me feel rather self-assured and powerful," replied James, now walking into the entrance hall.

They continued on their strange trail until Cordelia became conscious of something.

"James," she started once they were in the open air. James made a noise of assent and she continued, trying to keep her voice level, "Are you staring at my … er …?"

"Er … what?" prompted James, enjoying the situation way too much in Cordelia's opinion.

A woe-begotten sigh emanated from the girl as she gave into her fate and slumped down, allowing herself to be lowered onto the grass next to the lake with all the procrastinators. Eurgh.

"What are we going to do now?" asked Cordelia as James made a big deal of straightening his robes.

"I thought we could chat for a while," replied James.

Cordelia looked around hurriedly and tried to escape on her hands and knees but James grabbed her by the waist. "Not so fast," he said. "You are my prisoner."

"Oh really, what am I guilty of?"

"Being dreadfully dedicated to your studies and watching helplessly as your social life and sleep go down the drain."

"Oh."

James grinned at her and they both relaxed, soaking in the sun. Cordelia would never admit this but she began to enjoy herself, it had probably been about three days since she'd been outside (except for herbology) and it was a lovely day. It was one of those moments when you feel you are part of it; the grass, the sky, the water, the wind. One of those moments where all you want to do is share it with someone else.

And that's what she did. Cordelia leant her head on James' shoulder and his arm automatically encircled hers. They spent the time talking about silly things that made no sense to anyone except themselves.

Lily looked around the great hall, instantly dropping her head as she made eye contact with a certain blond boy at the Slytherin table.

She was in so much trouble.

Spooning the last dregs of her soup into her mouth she bid goodbye to her friends and left the hall, breaking into a run as soon as she was free from the gaze of others. Not wanting anyone to see the Potter's daughter madly sprinting around the castle, Lily stuck to the secret passages and hidden staircases that were abundant in Hogwarts (being sister to James had its advantages) and made it to the common room in under six minutes. New record.

A mistake, she continued the mantra inside her head, it was a stupid, reckless, selfish mistake that she would rectify … soon.

But how could she?

Betrayal, especially that of family, was not tolerated in the Potter household, they would take Rose's side and so they should. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Hi Lily," called a girly voice from her left. Anita Williams. "Come over here, we need you to settle a little debate we're having."

Ignoring the screaming argument inside her head, Lily walked over to them, plastering her biggest smile on her face. "Hey Anita, what debate? Oh merlin, it's not the one about Gordan Pilsbury and Don Dunagan is it?"

"No we came to a temporary truce with that one," answered Rita, a bubbly Asian girl with the attention span of a five-year-old; every one of her pores leaking excitement. "It's the one about- … Lily?"

Lily had stopped paying attention. The portrait hole was closing behind someone whom Lily had avoided since 'the incident'. No. That was stupid, it wasn't an incident it was a cold, heartless endeavour she had gone on all because she wanted something.

Growing up is hard, especially when it is forced upon you after an enormous personal blunder.

A huge breath of relief was lifted from Lily the moment her cousin walked up the girls' staircase, talking avidly to one of her friends. Time machine. That's what she needed; some way to change what she did.

Ha, as if.

"You alright?" questioned Billie, another friend (she had many) worry filling her voice.

"Er …" began Lily, still quite distracted. "I- … I'm feeling a little sick; I'm going to go to bed I think."

"You take care," added Anita, her expression worried. "I'll come up soon to check on you."

The young Potter smiled at them. "Thanks girls, you're the best." She started her journey to the stairs but was deterred, yet again, by the portrait hole. Two people were entering.

Of course.

"What I'm saying James is that you can't steal a unicorn. Someone will notice."

"But what if we jinx Hagrid and then … grab one of the babies."

Their argument faded off as they moved to Lily's right; the girl saying he couldn't jinx Hagrid because he was their family friend … also that some of James' behaviours could be considered slightly psychopathic.

Her love-struck big brother and Cordelia Bode.

No one really knew what was going on with those two but there were many underground bets on how long it would take them to admit their undying love. Lily thought Cordelia was wonderful, just what James needed. Before her, James never knew how far was too far, what was fun and what hurt others; he was entitled (a trait not completely cured) and a bit caught up in his world. Cordelia kept him seeing reality and James kept her from falling to hard. Who knew?

Well, Lily would know once the holidays began; James, Albus and Lily would stay up some nights, just on impulse, and talk while playing Gobstones or Wizards Chess. These were the best nights. They had helped Albus through his break-up with Eileen, given James the courage he needed to ask out Cordelia on the first day, and her brothers had supported her when she discovered she wasn't good at Defence Against the Dark Arts or Transfiguration or Potions. They had helped her realise her true passion, something that nothing could penetrate; no boy drama, no school, no friends, no family, no nothing … it was just her wand and the canvas.

Lily's paradise.

But that was about to go completely down the drain.

"Lily?" asked James worriedly, walking over with Cordelia. "Is something wrong?"

"Wrong?" replied Lily shrilly. "Nothing's wrong, why would you even say that?"

James raised his eyebrows and said, "You were pale and swaying a bit and I have a right to know whether my sister's alright and since you got all defensive something is definitely wrong."

"It's not for you to know James," said Lily sadly, looking at her hands. "Just something silly."

"Tell me and I can help," pressed James, pulling her down onto the seat next to him. Cordelia tactfully moved away but Lily suspected she was prepared to jump in if James got to pushy.

The weary sofa groaned as Lily slumped back into it, covering her tired face with exhausted hands. "You can't fix everything."

"I can try."

"James, trust me, you'll hate me soon enough anyway. Please don't make this worse."

"You're Lily, my baby sister, if someone hurt you I'll kill them," said James. He looked quite anxious; Lily never kept information to herself. She was like a stream – no filter, noisy and quick.

A flash of blond hair later and Cordelia appeared in front of them, just before Lily was about to burst into tears with guilt. "Lily! I was wondering if you had any clothes I could look at. Summers coming and I love your style." At these words James' forehead creased in confusion. Understandably. Cordelia just didn't talk about cloths, at least not like it was the most invigorating thing on the planet.

"Sure thing," replied Lily, glad to escape from James. If he only knew … no. She wouldn't think about that.

The two girls walked up the stairs with a slight degree of awkwardness as they both wondered what they would do next.

"Lily," started Cordelia, turning around outside Lily's dormitory. Lily began to talk and say the same things she had given James but Cordelia continued, "You don't have to tell me what's gotten you so down lately. I just want you to know that if you allow these things to control your actions and relationships then it wins. The only victory you have over that awful guilt and resentment is that they are stuck in the past and you have the ability to move forward. Be Lily." And with that, Cordelia walked up the stairs, leaving a very emotional Lily with a lot to think about.

In her dormitory Lily pulled back a white sheet and stared at the painting she had started the other day. It displayed the beginnings of a hand and some brown eyes, nothing that made her heart sing. In one motion, as though this was a regular occurrence, Lily stooped down and lifted the tub of white paint, quickly lathering the scribblings with camouflage so one would think they never existed.

New painting.

Girl surrounded by guilt, just staying alive by cowering, her caged heart in her hands as an offering to the ones who would take it from her.

Lily smiled and began to paint.

Three hours later Anita came into the dormitory to see a rough sketch and some colour, juxtaposed to the bright red hair that was slumbering softly on top of it. For now, Lily was at peace with her life, dreaming of the love she could have had were it not for the people she already loved.

Jasper Heckleburn was watching Beatrice Jordan.

No, it was not creepy.

No, she hadn't noticed.

And no, he didn't like her.

He chuckled to himself as he made that last point. Of course he bloody liked her! Who wouldn't?

Who wouldn't?

This was the question that had been bugging Jasper for the past months. Beatrice was an easy target for some boys because they believed she could be coerced into doing anything which wasn't true, no matter what anyone said. Some of the guys had good intentions … maybe. Jasper really couldn't be sure.

If only he had the confidence of James, the intelligence of Henry, or the idiotic recklessness of Fred then he might have made some progress but … Beatrice probably would say no anyway.

She was too beautiful and kind and interesting that she would end up with some sort of rich, charismatic, fascinating gentleman that would surely make her very happy. Like all the other times when Jasper had received thoughts such as these, he immediately felt compelled to stand up and proclaim his perpetual love for Bea but that instinct went away as quickly as it came.

How the hell did James do it?

Cordelia fought with him a lot, but one couldn't say they weren't attracted to one another; heavily. One-night Jasper woke up to get some water and he heard a lot of noise coming from a certain bed which definitely was not James having one of his famous dreams but two people in the middle of a snogging fest. It had been extremely scarring and he had cast the muffliato charm around his bed for the remainder of the week.

But Beatrice would only hold his hand and not even in a romantic way. Just as friends. He really needed to get up the courage to ask her out or she would be swept up by one of those interesting men. He could do it.

Casting a subtle look over at the divination section, Jasper saw two seventh year Slytherins approaching her ominously. Well they could have been good people but anyone who was male and talked to Beatrice was an instant threat. He continued with his work until something clicked in the back of his mind. They were those guys! The ones Cordelia had told him about in the strictest confidence because she, somehow, had worked out his crush on Beatrice and was determined to make it work between them; this should have seemed less weird. Obviously he had told his friends and they had been planning a revenge attack but everything seemed either too mild or too illegal.

Jasper took a deep breath and ignored the polite tones of conversation emanating from across the library. Beatrice could do what she wanted.

And he tried, he really tried to not listen to the specific words, he tried not to notice the rise in volume as it converted into an argument, and yes, Jasper did try to stop himself marching over and punching Bastien Fournier in the face after he called Beatrice a 'trollop' but he just didn't have the self-control.

"Jasper!" squealed Bea as Fournier hit the desk, falling at their feet.

"He was …" gasped Jasper, caught up in his heroicness. "He was being a bastard to you."

Beatrice just stood there, open-mouthed in shock at his actions. Now he had done it. Officially proved to her that he was a freak; a silent, boring, violent person. Jasper took the hint and walked, walked away from Bea to spare her from having to tell him to go herself. Merlin, why couldn't he have stayed put.

Misery was overtaking his thoughts and body as he exited the library, knowing he had been in the wrong and yet, only regretting his actions to the extent that Beatrice was angry.

"Jasper!" someone called. Jasper turned to see Beatrice running towards him, her hair wild and face red. "I need to say something."

Making sure not to bump into the other students in the doorway, Jasper replied, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that, it was a reflex reaction because … because, well … I don't know." Yes. Yes, he did know why he had punched Fournier but Beatrice would hate him even more.

"You don't know?" repeated Bea uncertainly, nervously fiddling with her uniform. Her eyes were unfocused and she seemed to be slightly put-out and- no, she was definitely angry, wasn't she?

Beatrice looked up at him and stared straight into his eyes with a confused but determined expression. This was it, she was going to hit him.

"Jasper?" The boy nodded, clasping his hands and preparing himself. "I think I know why." And before he could react, Beatrice stood up onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his. For a few moments Jasper did nothing, trying to come to terms with the fact that (a) Beatrice wasn't angry, and (b) Beatrice was kissing him. But what if this was some sort of manipulation?

Beatrice Jordan was kissing him.

Throwing aside all his insecurities, Jasper gently returned the kiss, placing one hand on her waist and another cupping her cheek.

And even though it was not a particularly long kiss or a passionate kiss, it was good enough for them; uncomplicated and sweet. Jasper wasn't as confident as James and for now, with Beatrice curled up at his side by the fire, he was happy just the way he was.

Authors Note: I don't know if I like this chapter but oh well. Next chapter will be up sooner as I've already written half of it; it may be a bit shorter but I'll see what happens.