(HBP) CHAPTER TEN: Apples and Oranges

"Well?" asked Fred about an hour later when he met her in her dreams. "How was your first day back?"

"Which part should I tell you about first?" she teased. "Oh, wait—you provided live commentary in my head the whole time."

He chuckled, but there was a trace of regret in his eyes. "Was it too much? I can try and give you more space, if—"

"No," she said—so quickly that they both had to laugh. "I like it when you listen in. It reminds me of how I used to feel when my locket glowed."

She still wore her locket, of course, and it still glowed constantly. Now, though, she tended to hear his voice in her head before she even got the chance to look down at the locket.

"I know what you mean," he said, glancing fondly down at his ring. "I never took mine off, you know—after I left. I think I was waiting for it to start glowing less often—telling myself that would be some sort of sign that you had finally moved on and found happiness without me. It never happened, though."

Of course, it hadn't. She had never stopped thinking about Fred, and she never would.

Ellie's first class the following day was Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Snape.

She had half-expected them to relocate the class to the dungeons, but they hadn't. Instead, Snape had moved into the old Defense room, but redressed it as he saw fit: namely, drawing the curtains, adding rather grotesque and violent artwork to the walls, and lighting the room only by candlelight.

"You have had five teachers in this subject so far," Snape began once the class had officially begun. "Each of which had their own, unique methods and priorities. Given this… inconsistency… I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T.-level work, which will be more advanced."

Ellie glanced at Harry as Snape continued speaking. She rather liked Snape's speech, and the idea that the Dark Arts were like a many-headed monster who sprouted stronger heads when one was severed. Admittedly, there was something a bit twisted about the fondness he clearly had for the subject, but who better to teach them than someone who cared that much?

Unless he's actually evil, pointed out Fred. Which, I'm guessing, is where Harry's head is at.

He had a point, but she wasn't sure she agreed with Harry's head. They had been down this road with Snape before—even as far back as their first year at Hogwarts—and he had proven them wrong. He had helped her with Occlumency the year before, and he had tried to help Harry, too. Most importantly, though, Dumbledore trusted him. Weren't those reasons enough to trust him, too?

"What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?" he was asking the class.

Hermione's hand, of course, shot up.

Snape looked annoyed, but called upon her after seeing that no one else had raised theirs.

"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform," Hermione explained.

Ellie tuned out Snape's sarcastic response as she considered the impact of Hermione's words. For all she had practiced with the B.A. last year, they hadn't dabbled much in nonverbal spells; she hadn't seen the point. Now, she was starting to.

Whatever you say, teacher's pet, teased Fred.

She rolled her eyes as she went back to paying attention to Snape.

"You will now divide into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking; the other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Begin."

"Ron," said Lavender immediately. "Want to team up?"

Parvati, who had teamed up with Lavender for every pairs assignment in their history at Hogwarts, looked positively affronted by this. Ron shrugged and nodded. To Ellie's right, Harry and Hermione immediately paired up; to her left, Dean and Seamus. Ellie glanced around for Neville, but Parvati beat her to the punch. It only took a few more seconds for it to become readily apparent that she had no partner at all.

She waited for Fred's voice in her head to poke fun at her, but it didn't come. Either he had stopped paying attention or he pitied her so much that he didn't know what to say.

"Malfoy," Snape said, glancing at Draco, who appeared to have paired up with both Crabbe and Goyle. "I said pairs, not triples. Go and join Miss Black."

Ellie's eyes widened about as much as Draco's did. "With her, Professor?" he nearly shouted. "But… she doesn't even have to cast a spell to stop me! She has that blasted—"

"Miss Black's Perelli charm creates a visible forcefield," Snape interrupted, "whereas the Protego charm is invisible. Should she use the former rather than the latter, we shall consider it a failed attempt."

Well, there went this assignment being easy.

Good, said Fred in her head. You should learn not to rely on your shield so much. By the way, you did charge it up this morning, right?

So he was still listening, she thought ruefully. Yeah, I had Hermione do it before we went to class. She nerded out hard on the magical science of it.

Draco admitted defeat at that point, trudging glumly over to Ellie.

Give him a chance.

For a second, Ellie thought that voice, too, had been Fred's. It only made sense, given the fact that they had been in the midst of a conversation—and, of course, that she didn't regularly hear other people's voices in her head.

It wasn't Fred's, though. It was Snape's.

Who? she asked back. Draco?

But whatever power she had to cast her voice into Fred's head must not have worked on Snape, because he barely blinked.

El, said Fred very slowly. Did I just hear Severus Snape's voice in your head?

Talk later, she told him shortly; Draco's patience was clearly waning.

"Er… hi," she said stiffly to the boy she had more or less despised for the past five-plus years. Was it out of the question to do as Snape said and give him a chance? Was it not the same thing she had done with Snape himself—what she was urging her father to do with Kreacher?

Draco didn't bother replying to her greeting; instead, he asked grumpily, "Are you ready, then?"

"Sure," she said, biting her lip. "Do you want to attack first, or—"

But he had lifted his wand the moment she said "sure." She lifted her own, thinking a quick, desperate Protego! without uttering it allowed.

It worked—at least, Draco's spell didn't hit her. But the faint pang she felt suggested to her that it had been her shield, not her charm, that saved her.

"Like I said," grumbled Draco. "Shield."

Ellie glanced at Snape, who was glowering disapprovingly at her. "I'm sorry," she said to both of them. "I'm not trying to cheat. I think it's my shield reacting to my spell before it even knows what's hitting it."

"Try it in reverse," Snape said shortly.

Ellie nodded, straightening and looking at Draco. "Ready?"

He nodded impatiently.

Expelliarmus! she thought as she jabbed her wand toward him.

Almost immediately, he whispered, "Protego!" and stopped the charm.

Any other day, she would have called him out for whispering instead of actually following the class assignment.

Today, though, she didn't.

"Nicely done, Malfoy," said Snape, though his gaze lingered on Ellie long enough to tell her that he knew exactly what had happened. "Five points to Slytherin."

Draco's eyes trailed back to Ellie's as if certain that now she'd speak up, but again, she didn't.

"I don't understand," Draco hissed at Ellie in the next class—Slughorn's—as Slughorn briefly summarized the various potions he had prepared for them to inspect. "Why didn't you call me out?"

Everyone in the room had seemed to double-take when they saw Draco intentionally sit down next to Ellie at the start of class. The rest of the Slytherins took his lead, of course, which just meant that now Ellie was surrounded by them, but she didn't particularly mind; apparently none of the other Gryffindors particularly wanted to spend time with her, anyway.

"Snape wouldn't have believed me, anyway," she whispered back with a causal shrug. "Why bother?"

He didn't seem satisfied by her response, but he fell silent when Slughorn gathered them all up at the Amortentia potion take whiffs of it.

It was the most powerful love potion in the world, according to Hermione, who earned Gryffindor twenty points for her astute description of it.

Ellie, on the other hand, could only come up with a single word to describe what she smelled in the potion—one that she would have blushed to say out loud: Fred.

Well, that's a relief, said Fred in her head. Been brewing love potions for months here at work, and all I can ever smell in them is you. Would have been awkward if you'd smelled, say, Draco Malfoy.

She did her best not to burst out laughing, though, of course, his words touched her.

Slughorn went on to explain to the class that inside of the vial he was now holding was Felix Felicis, also known as Liquid Luck, and that he would be giving it as a prize to whomever brewed the finest Draught of Living Death.

It was a far more complicated potion than Ellie had ever brewed before, and it became apparent early on that she wasn't going to be the class winner. Neither, she noted with a hint of amusement, was Draco, who seemed to be growing increasingly frustrated with each step.

"Think this is funny, do you?" he snapped at her when he caught her grinning. "As if yours is any better?"

"Mine isn't any better," she agreed. "So I suppose I was laughing at the both of us."

"What is with you today?" he asked, scowling. "All your usual friends ditch you and you're looking for a replacement?"

Ellie might be a bit sour about not having been picked as a partner, but that was certainly a stretch. "I'm trying this new thing where I'm not a jerk to Slytherins just because they're Slytherins," she improvised. It was easier than trying to explain the philosophy that had led her to be kind to Snape and, in turn, him. "I can be an arsehole, though, if you prefer."

He actually granted her a chuckle—a chuckle!—at that. "S'pose not. As long as you don't get the wrong idea here, Black. I have no interest in being Boyfriend Number Seventeen."

Her instinct, of course, was to slap him for that comment. She could tell from Fred's reaction in her head that he fully supported that instinct.

But then she considered her other option—laughing.

Why not laugh? It was funny, wasn't it? It was relieving, too; the last thing she needed was Draco Malfoy mistaking her politeness for flirtation.

So she did.

And Draco seemed to appreciate it.

On Friday—on the evening before Fred's first visit to Hogwarts—Harry and Ellie headed out to the Quidditch pitch to test out whether or not her shield would still be triggered on the field.

"I can't believe I'm even asking this," Harry told her as they walked, "but is something going on between you and Malfoy?"

During their second Potions class, Slughorn had requested that they take the same seats as the first, explaining that it helped him remember names. So, by no fault of her own, Ellie had been forced to continue sitting with Draco and the Slytherins all week—and would, presumably, have to continue doing so all year.

It hadn't been that bad, in the scheme of things. Draco seemed to tolerate her as long as she tolerated a few of his insults each class period. The insults weren't too harsh, and even made her laugh a time or two.

"I've been thinking a lot about what you said," she told him. "Of course I think it's plausible that he's in line to be a Death Eater—maybe even has the mark already. I'm just not sure he's capable of actual evil at this point, Harry. I mean, he's still a kid in so many ways."

"So you're hanging out with him because you like him now?"

"No—and frankly, I'm insulted by the question. But lately I've started to find real meaning in the term 'you catch more flies with honey.' I think it's a good way to keep an eye on him—maybe even ask him a few questions at some point."

Harry still looked doubtful—even a bit cheesed off. "As long as you don't trust the answers he gives you," he muttered as they closed in on the pitch and mounted their brooms.

To Ellie's relief, they determined quickly that her shield no longer activated mid-game—which meant she could partake in the tryouts Harry planned to hold in mid-September. They continued practicing long after they made the determination, and Ellie was glad; as they played, Harry seemed to forget all about how miffed he had become over the conversation about Draco.

The next morning, Ellie enjoyed a quiet breakfast with Katie and Neville as they all snuck glances at the rather tense huddle of Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny arguing in loud whispers.

"What's that about?" asked a voice from behind her.

Ellie leapt to her feet so fast, she knocked over her entire bowl of porridge in the process. She didn't care. She jumped into Fred's arms so fast, he had to take several swaying steps to keep his balance.

"I didn't know you were coming so early!" she exclaimed as she kissed him once, then twice, then a third time. "I thought you said noon!"

"Slow day at the office," Fred explained cheerfully, making no move to set her back down on her feet. "George cut me loose."

"Remind me to thank him," she said, and she kissed him again.

"That's one way to get your visitation privileges revoked the first time you use them," teased Katie.

Before Fred could answer, though, a horde of students swarmed him—mostly Gryffindors, but a fair bit of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, as well—to greet him, hug him, and compliment him on their Wheezes products.

She had known, of course, that both of the twins were popular in a very different way from her. Ellie had always had a knack for making friends and nourishing those friendships, but she had never been the type to really "wow" a crowd using wit or humor the way they did.

Please, Fred said in her head as he set her gently down and hugged Colin Creevey. You were literally an international superstar last year.

For like five minutes. Doesn't count.

To Ellie, it really didn't count. It was like comparing apples and oranges. She could be the most famous person in the world—was one of the most famous people in the world—and still felt isolated at Hogwarts that year.

"Okay, okay," Fred shouted to the horde. "Loving the love here, people, but I only have eight hours with this stunning vixen today, and I need to make them count. You'll get plenty more chances to see me this year, I assure you."

And with that, he took her by the hand and guided her out of the Great Hall.

"Stunning vixen?" Ellie teased Fred ten minutes later after they had settled onto the couch in the common room. There were lots of spots Ellie wanted to bring him to, including the picnic tables by Hagrid's and their old rooftop, but this one felt like a good place to start.

"Well, you are," he said shamelessly as she laid her legs across his lap and scooted close to him. "Every time I see you after spending time apart, you look even more beautiful than I remembered."

"I must have looked really beautiful that day at Azkaban, then," she said, thinking back to the day she'd seen him in January after more than two months apart. "And then again at the Department of Mysteries." Another five months.

"Oh, believe me, you did—even with the pink hair."

She had almost forgotten about the pink hair. How ridiculous must she have looked, slaying Death Eaters at Azkaban with cotton candy coloured hair?

"I never thought you looked ridiculous," he told her. "I did sort of hate it at the time—your whole look—but only because of how badly it tortured me."

"Well, I won't apologize for that. You deserved to be tortured."

"Fair enough." He reached out to run his hand through her hair and smiled. "I do prefer it this way, though."

As usual, his touch sent sparks shooting down her spine, and she immediately moved to press her lips against hers.

He didn't turn his head, but he might as well have, from how quickly he pulled away.

"I'm worried about you," he said. "You seem… distant here. Like you aren't fully connecting with anyone."

She strongly preferred kissing to discussing this, but she played ball. "Well, the people I connected with the most don't go here anymore. So I'm adjusting."

"But…" He frowned. "Is it possible that I'm holding you back from adjusting fully, El? I mean, having my voice in your head all the time—having me come and visit every weekend—am I really giving you a chance to?"

It was the second time he had asked her if he should stay out of his head, and it was starting to annoy her. Worse, it was starting to scare her. What was it with these boys who were so sure they knew what was best for their girlfriends? Was Fred being any better to her than Harry was being to Ginny? Was he just gearing up to leave her all over again?

Too late, she realized he had heard that last thought—all of them, probably. His brown eyes filled with pain and guilt. "I'm not going to leave you, El. Are you really questioning that already?"

She glanced down at the silver ring on her finger—the ring he had somehow convinced her own father to give to him—and forced back the doubt. "No—sorry. Just… please don't keep asking me that kind of thing, Fred. I don't want you to be less involved, okay? Ever."

The pain and guilt faded, though not completely. But rather than linger on it, he smiled. "Good. In that case, my lips would appreciate a little reminder of where we were before they so rudely interrupted you."

Several different things to unpack in this new chapter! Will Ellie's new non-rivalry with Draco turn into an actual friendship? If so, how will it affect the big picture of the sixth book? And is hearing Fred in her head all the time actually the best thing for her, or does everyone need some degree of space? Stay tuned to find out, and as always, I love reading your thoughts in the reviews!