The next morning

Stephen walked into the Great Hall and his eyes immediately sought her.

Gianah was already sat at the Gryffindor table with his sister and their friends, her beautiful red hair up in a French braid, and he wished he could go to her and undo it, letting the long soft tresses fall down her shoulders so that he could run his hands through them and bask in their sweet scent, just like he had in his dream as they kissed and talked in the strange version of the Hogwarts Library his brain had come up with.

He stopped on his way to the Slytherin table, being torn between the memory of his dream, where she smiled and kissed him, and the reality, where she hated him; he yearned to find out if real-Gianah's kisses would be just as good as his dream-Gigi's.

His feet took him towards the Gryffindor table without him thinking but he forced himself to stop.

This is real life.

He wasn't in his dreams right now; he wasn't in a controlled environment where he could dictate Gianah's actions and have her all sweet and smiley towards him. The chances of him getting slapped or hexed if he approached her right then were very high and very real.

With a defeated sigh, Stephen turned and walked to the Slytherin table and sat near his friends, having realised he couldn't avoid Patrick, Charles and Sam forever.

"Hey, mate," greeted Charles, "Bad game yesterday huh?"

"Yeah," Stephen replied, unenthused, "We weren't our best whilst Hufflepuff played like they were Gryffindor."

"True. Hey, about that… is there anything we can do to help you?" asked Sam, "Maybe train some shots? I'm not the best of keepers but I can hold myself on a broom, and if each of us protected a hoop it might be a good training for you."

The other two nodded their agreements and Stephen tilted his head finding that strange, but admitting that his idea had merit.

"Yeah. That's not such a bad idea," Stephen looked at his three friends, knowing there had to be a reason for that suggestion though, "But why are you three suddenly interested in my Quidditch skills?"

"We're Slytherins," said Patrick with a shrug, "And you're a Slytherin Chaser, we want to see you win."

"Is that so?" asked Stephen not believing for a second in their unselfish reasons, "So you're offering the same help to Boot and Campbell? They're chasers too."

Sam and the other two exchanged a guilty glance.

"Look, mate," said Charles, "When you win – we win. Not just the match or the points for our House but with the girls as well."

"And," added Patrick, "Girls don't want to go to empty classrooms with the friends of a loser."

There it is. Stephen fought the desire to scoff, slowly nodding in understanding instead.

"I see. So you need me to score in the pitch so that you can score out of it."

"Yeah. And so do you!" continued Patrick, pointing a finger at him, "I didn't hear anything about you being jumped by two girls last night."

"'Cause I wasn't," Stephen shrugged, taking a cup and summoning some coffee with his wand.

"Exactly," his friend went on, "If you had won, girls would've jumped you – and us as well."

"Fine, Patrick," Stephen said, curbing his desire to roll his eyes, "I'll accept your help – but only because it might improve my skills."

"Right," scoffed Patrick, "As if you're not upset you went without snogging anyone last night."

"Actually, I'm not," Stephen exhaled, tired of that conversation, "And, yeah, I'll accept your help for I do think I have room for improvement."

"Fine fine," said Patrick dismissively, "whatever excuse helps you sleep at night. As long as you score in the pitch next time – so that we can score out here."

Sam and Charles smirked, but Stephen just nodded, eating his breakfast and letting himself get lost in his dream again, wishing it could come true.


At the high table

From his place beside the headmaster's wife, Neville Longbottom had a full view of the Great Hall; no matter how long the House Tables were or how full of students the Hall was, the teachers and staff were able to see down to the farthest end of the tables. And that privileged view not only meant they could stop fights but also that Neville could see her.

His treacherous eyes sought Sophie Snape every time he raised his head from his plate to sip from his glass.

She never looked at him though. Her green eyes always focused on a book or a piece of parchment while she ate – and he couldn't dent that her indifference weighted heavily in his chest.

He wished things were different, he hated seeing her sad and know his actions were the reason of her sadness. He longed to see her smile, to smell her hair, touch her lips with his while his hands–"

"She's not been herself lately," he suddenly heard the soft voice of the woman beside him.

He cleared his throat and quickly averted his eyes from the teenager he shouldn't be staring at, glancing at the headmaster's blessedly empty chair before speaking: "How's that? Why? If you don't mind me asking."

"Your classes. She liked being your assistant and watching you lecture."

"Oh, well… your daughter is a bright young witch, Madam Snape, she certainly understands it would be a waste of her time to sit my classes without needing to."

A corner of Florence's red-painted lips lifted, her eyes narrowing a little at him in silent amusement.

"Sophie understands that you do not want her in your greenhouses. Nor near you."

As soft as she had spoken, Neville felt the blow of her words deep in his heart – Sophie thought he wanted distance from her, when the truth couldn't be farther from it.

"I– I never meant to upset her, I was only thinking of what would be best for her."

"Oh, is that so?" Florence fixed him with piercing green eyes, "Best for her, you say," she shook her head, "All I see is a scaredy lion."

Neville pressed his lips in a thin line, but he didn't reply to her insult, his eyes moving from her to the empty chair on her left, begrudgingly admitting – albeit to himself only – that she wasn't wrong.

And that didn't fill him in with pride.

Sophie deserves someone brave enough to face her father and sweep her off her feet, someone that will be her partner in all of her endeavors.

She deserved a hero, and he didn't feel like one anymore.


Meanwhile, far as possible from the high table, Sophie sat at the Ravenclaw table enjoying her breakfast with her eyes on the romance book of the week, doing her best to not look at the staff table.

She could feel his eyes on her several times during meals, but she stubbornly ignored the pull to look back at him; she was furious that he refused to acknowledge he had feelings for her, that he was letting his fear of her father and their age gap stop them from having something she could feel in her soul that it would be beautiful.

Brave my arse. Gryffindors are all bark and no bite.


For Stephen, as the weeks went by, things only got worse as well. By the end of May, no matter how much he wished for, he unfortunately hadn't dreamed about Gianah again; he had tried thinking about her before going to bed, talking about her with someone (Sam and Patrick needed little encouragement to start talking about Gianah and her curves), but nothing worked.

He dreamed of anything but her; and day after day she refused to even look at him – it was pure torture!

And he tried everything to get her attention, from the usual teasing to even complimenting her opinion on the Medieval Assembly of European Wizards, unrestrainedly agreeing with her that they weren't really qualified to hand out bravery awards when they gave one to Gilderoy Lockhart in the 1980s.

But all his agreeing got him was odd glances from his friends and an exaggerated eye-roll from both his sister and Lynne, but nothing out of her, it was like he had ceased to exist for Gianah Weasley.

Stephen found himself between a rock and a hard place; he was having trouble concentrating on his tasks due to his unresolved situation with her, but had no free time to plot some way to make her notice him – he barely had time to do his homework, due to all the extra training hours his friends and the Slytherin Captain had come up with.

And to make matters worse, there was all the female attention he had been receiving – and that certainly wouldn't help him get out of that mess with Gianah not one bit.

There was always a group of girls at the Quidditch pitch when his team trained and one of them, Skye Robertson, had developed the habit of following him to the locker rooms and even sit on his lap in the common room. She had even stolen kisses from him (loose usage of the word 'stolen' to be honest, but he was still a hot-blooded 14-year-old, not made of stone), but her presence only added to his feeling of guilt as it reminded him of the night he had kissed her in front of Gianah.

The only positive in all the drama his life was drowning in was that he was knackered every evening; between classes, homework and extra Quidditch practice, Stephen was able to push his renewed Gianah-obsession aside – even though he still stared at the back of her head at every meal.


Great Hall

One Monday

The Gryffindor table was quieter than usual that morning, after losing the Quidditch game for the Puffs the day before and blowing their chances of playing the Quidditch Finals, the House of the Lion was understandably subdued.

"Thirty points," grumbled Sirius, "Just bloody thirty points! If I had been five seconds faster to get the Snitch–"

"Stop it, Sirius," said Lily, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek, "It wasn't your fault Hufflepuff scored a goal at the same time you caught the Snitch."

"Yeah," agreed Teddy, sat on the other side of him, running a hand down his arm, "You had no way of knowing what was happening on the other side of the pitch."

Sirius let out a sigh, smiling at his boyfriend and then at his girlfriend, happy to have both of them to cheer him up; he pulled both of them for a quick kiss before taking his cup of coffee and sipping the hot liquid, their loving presence immediately pulling him out of his funk.


At the high table

"Severus!" hissed Florence, closing her left hand on her husband's right forearm, stopping him from standing.

"What. Was. That?" he said between gritted teeth, turning to face her so fast that his hair fell on his face, his eyes narrowing at her.

"Don't ask questions you don't want to hear the answer to," she replied, raising a hand to his face and putting behind his ear the hair that had fell on his cheek.

"No, no," he shook his head, his hands closing on fists on the tabletop, his eyes softening at he realised what that scene at the Gryffindor table meant, "You knew. And you have allowed... that... to happen right under my nose," he paused, realising what that meant: "Our suspicions have been confirmed, I presume."

"I'm still not sure about Sirius Potter carring Sirius Black's soul, but the triad part is–"

Severus interrupted her with a low growl of disapproval and glowered at the Gryffindor table again.

"Stop it, Sev," Florence whispered, entwining her left hand with his right one, "I'm glad she found them so early," she continued in a soft tone, her thoughts on the soul their daughter carried.

Lily deserves to be happy. She added through their bond.

Yes, she does. Severus agreed, sounding torn even in his thoughts. My childhood friend Lily deserves to be happy no matter what, but this Lily is my daughter, and I don't want to see those two pawing all over her.

They're not pawing all over her, Severus. Florence chuckled with a twinkle in her eyes. At least not yet.

He turned his glare to his wife, but she just smiled at him, sipping her morning tea completely unaffected by his grumpiness.


Back at the Gryffindor table

"I have to go to the Common room," said Gianah once she finished her breakfast, "I left my bag there. See you in Charms class," and she got up from the bench and walked towards the Great Hall entrance.

"See you," said Tiana.

Lily didn't look at their departing friend, her purple eyes focused somewhere on the far side of the Great Hall.

"What's wrong, love?" asked Teddy, noticing the tension in his girlfriend's shoulders.

"That idiot I have for a brother," she said in an angry whisper, motioning the Slytherin table.

Teddy looked towards the snakes' table and sighed, "He's looking at her," his eyes darted at Gianah who was walking through the exit.

"Yes. He's been doing that every day at every meal," Lily shook her head.

"Does she know?" asked Sirius.

"No, I haven't told her he's been staring at the back of her head like a pining idiot day-in day-out. What good would her knowing do?"

"None," agreed Lynne, "Not while he doesn't get his head out his arse and stops dating everything that moves in his direction."

"Dating?" Lily frowned, "Who's he dating? I didn't know he was dating."

"It's not official," said Tiana with a face, "But he's been seen in the Common Room with Skye Robertson sitting on his lap..."

"Un-fucking-believable!" Lily exclaimed, glaring at Stephen.

"Circe's tits, it's worse than we think!" whispered Lynne with widening eyes.

"What? Why do you say that?" asked Lily, worried.

"She's ginger!" stage-whispered Lynne.

And Lily, Tiana and Teddy looked at her in surprise, having caught what she meant.

"And?" asked Sirius, failing to see what his cousin was implying.

"She's bloody ginger!" repeated Lily in an angry whisper.

"Are we pointing out obvious things now?" asked Sirius, still confused.

Teddy put a hand on his boyfriend's arm and explained: "Stephen is dating a ginger girl because she reminds him of Gigi!"

"Woah," Sirius exhaled in sudden comprehension, his eyebrows raising, "Bloody hell that's... pathetic."

"I believe you mean disgusting," scowled Lily, "He's using that girl!"

The others nodded in agreement, but Sirius tilted his head, clearly seeing something they weren't.

"Is he though?" Sirius asked, immediately receiving confused frowns, so he added before anyone could argue with him: "Isn't Robertson a sixth year? About seventeen?"

"Yes, so?" retorted Lily, "That only makes it more disgusting: she's our sister's classmate!"

"Exactly," Sirius pointed at Lily to emphasize his point, "She's of age. She knows what she's doing," he drank the rest of his coffee before adding: "Have you considered that Robertson might be the one using Stephen?"

Lily looked at him with confusion in her purple eyes, trying to understand, "What? How would she be using him?"

"Well, I've had people try to befriend me just because of my last name," said Sirius with a shrug, "And so have all of you."

"Yeah, "Tiana continued: "Stephen's a war-hero's son," she seemed somewhat uncomfortable to be talking about that, "For some families… that is something that matters..." she looked at Lynne, looking for support, "When I told my parents I was friends with you guys, they were happy for me and also relieved."

They all slowly nodded, understanding what both of them were saying.

Lynne intertwined her fingers with Tiana's, giving her an understanding smile.

"And," added Sirius, his tone showing his concern, "In the off chance her family didn't fight for the light... he's Voldemort's grandkid."

Both Lily and Lynne inhaled sharply, exchanging a meaningful gaze, feeling somewhat self-conscious by those words.

"Hey," said Sirius, pulling Lily's face towards his, "I know that doesn't define you or Lynne or anyone else in your family... but for some people…" he shrugged, "I don't know, they care for some reason... I just wanted to point out that maybe Stephen's not the one in the wrong here."

Lily nodded, looking at her brother again, her glare giving place for a look of grave concern.


Later that day

"Hey, Stephen!" Lily called as she saw him walking the grassy path towards the Quidditch pitch alone.

"Hi, sis," Stephen stopped, waiting for her to catch up, "What's it?"

"Can I walk with you to the pitch? I'd like to talk to you."

"Sure. What about?" he asked, resuming walking, Lily beside him.

"Robertson."

He rolled his eyes, "Drop it, Lily, it's none of your business who–"

She bristled, "Look, you made it my business with your stupid obsession with my friend– or you think I haven't noticed you staring at her at every bloody meal?"

Stephen quickly looked around, fearing someone could've heard her, "Fine! No need to rub it in! And I'm doing my best to not approach her! Looking doesn't hurt!"

But his words only seemed to make her even angrier: "But you dating Robertson might!"

He exhaled, looking down as he spoke next: "Weasley doesn't like me, Lily; I must accept that. Robertson does, and she very enthusiastically lets me know how much…"

"Ew! Gross," she shivered, shoving him playfully, before adding with a concerned gaze: "Have you considered that maybe she's only interested in snogging Voldemort's grandson?"

Stephen's shoulders visibly stiffened and he looked at her with a frown as if realising for the first time that was a possibility, "Well, no... I haven't," he seemed to ponder for a moment, slowly nodding, "I get what you're saying, sis. But it's not as if I have war secrets to share with her, you know," he gave her a one-shoulder shrug.

"So you're giving up on Gigi?" she asked, clearly frustrated.

He let out an exasperated sigh, "Look, not all of us is as lucky as you. You found Sirius and Teddy even before any of us knew what love was!"

Lily immediately held his arm, making him stop, and looked at her twin brother with a soft gaze, "Love? You mean that you–"

Stephen pulled his arm away from her, looking suddenly annoyed, "Forget it, Lily. It doesn't matter. Robertson likes me, she's older and fun," he tried to keep walking, but she blocked his way.

"Oh, no! No way I'm forgetting it! You just said the word 'love', I didn't– you did!" she poked his shoulder.

"It. Doesn't. Matter!" he replied between gritted teeth, "I fucked up!" he exhaled, running his hand nervously through his hair, "Now I can't even make her look at me, Lily!"

"You could try being nice," Lily offered.

He rolled his eyes again, "I've tried agreeing with her already! You were there! It didn't work!"

"Yeah," she scoffed, "And it was one of the weirdest things I'd ever seen! You have to agree that you all of a sudden saying something positive about Gigi's opinion was more weird than cute. She had no idea if you were being serious or publicly mocking her!"

Stephen ran a hand through his hair a second time, huffing in frustration, "What do you suggest I do then?"

Lily pressed her lips into a thin line, considering if she should tell him what she was thinking or not, "Listen… she will be in the library tomorrow evening–"

"I have practice before dinner."

"So get to practice late!" she snapped, "She'll be there for about an hour."

"Alone?" he seemed to consider her suggestion, his heart starting to pound.

Lily smiled, "If you tell me you'll go there talk to her, I'll make sure we all get there late."


Note: Writing all this teen drama can be so great and so hard at the same time.

Hope you're enjoying! Sorry for the one-day delay, but life happened (sick kid).