RoonieTunes: I know! I am also so excited for them to get together but it's still going to be a moment :(. Thanks for the review!

Also, I did not proofread this chapter so I'll apologize for any grammatical errors. I'm on Chapter 10 of this story now and I am so unbelievably excited for that chapter that it is taking a great deal of restraint on my part to post everything I have typed up now. Enjoy!

Chapter Six

As the week progressed, Nessa was not feeling particularly optimistic about the year to come. George and Alicia had made up, as Fred had suspected, but Nessa was having a hard time being happy about this because Alicia had taken to sitting with them at meal times again and pretending to be fine with their relationship was much more exhausting than she'd really expected. It was only Friday and already she wanted to shove her head through a wall. They'd been back a total of five days.

Maybe she was being dramatic? Was this the way normal people felt when they were jealous?

She jumped when Harry took a seat next to her on the bench she'd procured within the courtyard.

She had Defense Against the Dark Arts after lunch, but she'd grabbed a sandwich from the Great Hall and disappeared with a hasty excuse to spare herself another hour of conversation with Alicia. Which, of course, made her feel terrible because there was nothing wrong with Alicia and she was sure the older girl could tell she didn't have much interest in being friends with her. If she didn't, George could surely tell because he'd eyed her oddly when she'd retreated from the table and he could still read her in a way that made her uncomfortable.

Shaking her head of her inner thoughts, she eyed her brother in confusion when he continued sitting next to her in silence, his arms crossed over his chest and expression rather moody.

"Something wrong?" she said when he continued to say nothing.

"I had to skin Malfoy's shrivelfig."

When he said nothing further as explanation, she sighed and closed the book she'd been reading. Or pretending to read, as it were.

"Am I supposed to know what that means, Harry?" she said, trying to keep the annoyance from her voice.

"He's walking around like he's two seconds away from losing his arm, Nessa," he said, tone laced with anger. "Acting like it's Hagrid's fault he was hurt in the first place when he was the one that wasn't paying attention when Hagrid said not to insult Buckbeak."

Nessa stared at him for a second. She had no idea what this had to do with a shrivelfig, but she suspected mentioning that Hagrid likely should have started with a smaller, less easily offended creature for his first class would not be taken very well by her brother.

"He's got his arm all bandaged up and is acting like he's going to lose his arm completely. It was just a scratch. And Snape made me and Ron cut up all of his ingredients for him. It was a wonder I was able to finish my potion at all because he'd be happy to give me a zero on the first day back, I'm sure."

Nessa rolled her eyes.

"Malfoy has always been a sleaze, Harry. He hasn't got much else to do with himself if he isn't making someone's life miserable. It's pathetic. You shouldn't let him know he bothers you so much." Harry rolled his eyes at her and grunted in response. "Is Hagrid going to get in trouble?"

"No," he said, the question only seeming to annoy him further. "But Malfoy admitted that's part of the reason he's milking the injury so much. Mr. Malfoy is apparently marching up and down the Ministry trying to get him fired."

"Dumbledore won't go for it," she said immediately, trying to remain calm despite the flare of anger the words caused. "The Ministry can't make those kinds of decisions when it comes to Hogwarts anyway. Dumbledore is the only one who can appoint and fire teachers within the grounds."

Harry seemed to relax at this and grimaced sympathetically.

"We went to see Hagrid last night. He was pretty upset, but he said Dumbeldore wasn't too upset with him. Wouldn't take his resignation when he tried to hand it in."

"That's good," she said bracingly. "Dumbledore wouldn't keep him on if he believed Hagrid was putting us in any unnecessary danger. I'm sure Hagrid will be okay. And Malfoy will get what's coming to him. He always has, hasn't he?"

"Yeah, I suppose," he said with a grin. "Maybe whatever Hagrid shows us next will eat him."

Nessa snorted and smacked him lightly on the shoulder.

"Don't say that, Harry," she said. "Knowing Hagrid, whatever he brings next could eat us. If he brings a single Acromantula, I swear I'll drop out."

Harry laughed and nodded.

"Yeah, I could do without seeing one of those again," he said. They sat in silence for some time until he shifted restlessly and eyed her cautiously. "Look, there's some things I need to tell you…"

Nessa tensed at his tone and tried not to glare at him.

"It's the first week back, Harry," she said in irritation. "What could you have possibly done by now?"

"That isn't what I meant!" he said indignantly. "I just…well, you know, you were upset last year when I didn't tell you what was going on and I'd rather not have a repeat."

"That doesn't answer my question, but go on," she said, rubbing the bridge of her nose and praying that it was something that did not require another trip into the forest or hours in the library.

"Seamus said Sirius Black was spotted not far from here."

Nessa snapped her head around to look at him in surprise. Perhaps she had heard wrong.

"What? When?"

"I dunno," said Harry with a shrug. "He said the Daily Prophet reported that a Muggle saw him, but by the time the Ministry got there, he was gone. But that's not really why I brought it up."

"Why are you bringing it up then?" she said incredulously. "To give me an anxiety attack?"

"No," he said with an eye roll. "Malfoy said something that bothered me, is all."

"Get to the point, Harry."

Her brother sighed morosely before continuing.

"Well, he was asking if I was going to go looking for him. Kept saying if he were me he'd be wanting to get revenge against Black himself. When I asked what he was talking about, he got really excited, like he couldn't believe I didn't know what he was talking about. He just kept acting like I was missing something."

"He could have been lying, you know," Nessa said after a moment's consideration. "Why would you want revenge on Black? He hasn't done anything to you. Though I suppose he is trying to kill you, so maybe he assumes you'd find that reason enough."

"No one knows about that though, remember? Mr. Weasley said they were keeping it under wraps —"

"From the Daily Prophet," said Nessa, shaking her head thoughtfully. "Not from other Ministry employees or how would Mr. Weasley have known about it in the first place? And as important as Malfoy says his father is, I'm sure Mr. Malfoy is well aware of what's going on."

"Yeah, I guess," he said, though he didn't look entirely convinced. "It's just weird, isn't it? Malfoy acting like there's something I should know and Mr. Weasley telling us not to go after Black no matter what we might hear. I mean, what does he think we'd hear?"

That was a better question, in her opinion. It was one she still didn't really understand, even after she'd spent hours trying to think of what he could possibly have meant.

She supposed it was weird for Malfoy to have mentioned something similar to Harry only days after Mr. Weasley begged them not to go looking after Black himself. Admitting that to her brother, who was unable to let any situation go and very rarely thought through his actions beforehand, was not really something she wanted to do, however. The last thing she needed was for him to start looking into Sirius Black and try to find him himself. No matter how much he said he wouldn't.

"I don't know, Harry," she said, finally. "But whatever it is, we aren't going to hear it from Malfoy of all people. He's just as likely to lie to get you into trouble as he is to tell you anything worthwhile." When her brother nodded, she continued. "You said you had things to tell me. What else is there?"

She was surprised at the flush that appeared on his cheeks as he looked across the courtyard and refused to make eye contact with her. She couldn't tell if he was stalling or if he was embarrassed by whatever he was about to say next. Maybe Ginny had written him another poem…

"You can't judge me, alright?"

She stifled a grin as she nodded at him and waited for him to explain what was going on.

"In Divination, we were reading tea leaves —"

"Whatever she told you is ridiculous," she said immediately. Harry huffed at her.

"Will you just listen?" he said, rolling his eyes. She rolled her own and looked at him expectantly. "Anyway, she saw a Grim in mine. Do you know what that is?"

"I don't know…the Grim Reaper? Because you're going to die?"

"It's a giant spectral dog. But the rest of it is pretty much the same. It's an omen of death. Wizards die after they see it."

Nessa took a slow breath in through her nose to give herself time to garner a response that wouldn't make her brother regret telling her this. Because she could tell by the look on his face that it bothered him, no matter how hard he may have been trying to pretend like it hadn't been. Someone really ought to tell Professor Trelawney to stop predicting the deaths of students.

"Harry, listen to me," she said firmly. "There is nothing factual about Divination. That isn't even me just being a cynic, alright? Trelawney has been predicting the deaths of at least one student every year. She made a girl from my year cry last year when she told her she'd be dead by the end of the year. I saw her in the library on Wednesday."

Harry snorted.

"That's what McGonnagal said."

"So, what's the problem?"

He hesitated a moment before sighing.

"The night we left the Dursleys, there was something in the alley, remember?"

"Vaguely, yes," she said, slowly, eyeing him curiously, trying to figure out where he could possibly be going with this line of thought.

"I saw it for a moment. Before the Knight Bus picked us up. It looked…well, it looked like a big dog."

She stared at him in surprise for a moment. She wasn't sure if he was joking or if he was implying what she thought he was. She had seen the shadow of whatever it was, but she'd not been able to catch a very good glimpse of whatever it was before they'd nearly been run over.

"Harry, it was not a Grim."

"But —"

"No. It wasn't. If it was a dog, it was a stray." she said firmly. "There is no reason to believe that you are going to die and I don't want you thinking there is. She is a crackpot and that's it. Look, if it makes you feel better, I'll go to the library and look them up and see if I can find anything, but I can almost guarantee she's just lost her marbles, alright?"

Harry sighed but relaxed a little.

"Yeah, alright," he said. "Thanks, Nessa. I know I must sound ridiculous for believing her, but, —"

"-but she couldn't have picked someone else who has so many people trying to kill him, yes, I got that." she finished with a smile and an eye roll. Harry laughed. "And you don't sound ridiculous. Just don't give her any room to get under your skin. She'll be predicting your death all year now, I expect."

Harry grinned just as the bell rang to signal lunch was over.

"Then she'll believe it when I predict my death in all my homework, won't she?"

-o0o-

Nessa took a seat next to Tori when she entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. She was the last to arrive, but she was still there before Professor Lupin, as there appeared to be no one in the room other than excited students.

They had heard about Professor Lupin's lessons from the other students, so no one took out any parchment or quills. They'd heard it from Fred and George that he was a more hands-on instructor and that they hadn't needed to use their books or parchment through the entire lesson. Nessa had hardly seen the twins so excited about a class before since she'd known them. Tori seemed to be just as excited as she had chosen one of the tables in the front, despite the fact that they normally sat far in the back.

Nessa was not quite sure how she felt about being at the front of the class, but she had no time to complain because Professor Lupin entered the room from the office upstairs. He smiled vaguely and placed his tatty briefcase on the desk up front. Nessa eyed him curiously. He seemed friendly enough, if a little shabby. She trusted him almost immediately, and not just because of what he'd done for them on the train, but also because there was just something…calming about him. She couldn't really tell why Professor Snape would hate him so much, but she supposed maybe her initial impression of him was wrong.

"Good afternoon," he said. "Follow me, if you will."

The class stood happily and followed Professor Lupin excitedly out of the classroom. It was not a surprise when he led them down a deserted corridor, around the corner, and shuffled them into the teacher's lounge. The third years had been excitedly telling them about their practice with Bogarts the day prior and had stated that they hadn't quite managed to banish it by the end of their lessons.

"Now, then," said Professor Lupin, smiling at them all amusedly as they eyed the wardrobe behind him anxiously. "Based on the looks on your faces, I take it the third years have discussed with you what the lesson may consist of. Bogarts are typically taught in the third year, but I noticed the previous professor chose not to discuss them —"

"Chose is a nice word," muttered Tori in her ear and Nessa tried unsuccessfully to hide her snort.

"As that's the case and Bogarts are fairly common, I think it best we start with what you've missed before we move on to more complicated spells and creatures. Victoria, would you mind telling the class where they might find a Bogart?"

Nessa suspected he had called on her because he had seen the two of them laughing earlier during his remarks about Lockhart, but Tori, as usual, did not seem at all bothered by the sudden attention. Nessa envied that about her friend.

"They like dark, enclosed spaces," she replied immediately, her voice strong and confident as was her usual. "Cupboards, the gap underneath beds, anywhere someone cannot see them. And it's Tori, sir."

"Thank you, Tori," he said with a kind smile. "That's correct. This Bogart moved in a few days ago and I have asked the headmaster to leave it so I could give my third and fourth years some practice. Now that we know where we can find them, can you tell me what a Bogart is, Vanessa?"

Nessa jumped at the unexpected question and tried not to fidget too much as the class looked at her expectantly. She was not a fan of being volunteered during class discussion. She cleared her throat and tried to pretend it didn't bother her.

"They're shape-shifters," she said quietly. "They take the shape of what it believes will frighten us most."

"Precisely," said Lupin, smiling kindly at her. "The Boggart behind us has not yet taken its shape as there is no one to frighten yet. Nobody knows what they look like when they are alone, but when I open the door, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears. This gives us quite an advantage over the boggart. Adelaide, do you know what that may be?"

Adelaide, for her part, looked bored by the discussion.

"It becomes confused because it can't decide what shape to take."

"Correct. It is always best to have company when in the presence of a boggart. The charm that repels a boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. The thing that really finishes off a boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing. We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please…Riddikulus!"

"Riddikulus!" they repeated loudly.

"Good, very good. But that is the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. Now, Cormac, if you wouldn't mind helping me with the next step —" Cormac McLaggen stepped forward assuredly, puffing his chest out, and Nessa and Tori rolled their eyes at each other. "First things first, Cormac: What would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"

"A werewolf, sir."

A flicker of something passed over Lupin's face, but he continued on without pause.

"A werewolf," he said thoughtfully. "And what do you think you could turn the Boggart werewolf into to make it less frightening?"

"A stuffed wolf?"

Lupin nodded thoughtfully.

"Fair enough. When the boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Cormac, and sees you, it will assume the form of a werewolf. And you will raise your wand — thus — and cry Riddikulus — and concentrate hard on the image of a stuffed wolf. If all goes well, the Boggart werewolf will be forced to take the shape of a stuffed wolf."

McLaggen nodded seriously and focused on the wardrobe in front of him. The boggart, as if sensing it would soon be released, rattled the wardrobe loudly.

"If Cormac is successful, the boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn," said Professor Lupin, turning to face the rest of the class. "I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical…"

The room went quiet. Nessa did not bother putting much thought into what she feared most. The Acromantulas from last year had materialized in her mind's eye the moment Professor Lupin had mentioned what they feared most. Turning a huge spider into something comical was the hard part. She was fairly certain that no matter how long she thought, nothing would make a spider less fearsome. She couldn't even handle the dead ones they used in Potions class.

"Everyone ready?" said Professor Lupin.

Nessa was not, but the class was all nodding, so she said nothing. She'd wing it and pray for the best.

"Cormac, we're going to back away to give you some room," said Professor Lupin. "I'll call the next person forward…On the count of three, Cormac," said Lupin, who was pointing his own wand at the handle of the wardrobe. "One — two — three — now!"

A jet of sparks shot from the end of Lupin's wand and hit the doorknob. The door creaked open and a horribly large wolf, its head longer than any wolf she had seen before, with huge teeth that were covered in saliva stepped out of the wardrobe. It let out a ferocious howl that made the hair on her arms stand up.

"Riddikulus!" cried Cormac, though his voice seemed slightly weaker than normal.

Crack! It transformed into a stuffed wolf, small and barely noticeable and Cormac grinned proudly.

"Adelaide! Forward!" shouted Lupin.

The boggart was clearly confused by the sudden change in target. Another crack and it turned into a dragon that turned into a small lizard — crack — a spider that lost its legs — crack — a mummy choking on its wrappings — crack — a clown that tripped over its large shoes.

By the time they had gone through the room, the Boggart was clearly confused and taking on random shapes in between each person. Nessa herself was getting confused as they rapidly moved to their next target. Only she and Tori were left and she was becoming increasingly anxious because she still had no idea what to do to make an Acromantula less scary. Of course, someone else in the room had already been afraid of a spider, so maybe she could just copy them if worse came to worse. Not particularly original, but it was better than looking stupid in front of the entire class.

"Tori, you next!"

Tori stepped forward confidently and the boggart immediately took the shape of a vampire; tall, pale, with large fangs and blood running down its chin and a feral smile. Tori raised her wand and cried "Riddikulus!" Crack — its teeth turned into large buck teeth the size of a rabbit's. Nessa snorted at the ridiculousness of the image.

"Vanessa, finish him off!"

She took a deep breath and tried to tell herself that it would not be a real spider and she would be fine and it would be over within a split second. As the boggart switched through several images hastily, attempting to pinpoint what her biggest fear was, she waited for the distinctive eight legs, the large pincers, the beady, black eyes.

Except when the boggart stopped and finally took form, it took her a moment of confusion before she realized what she was looking at. She choked on a sob and stumbled backward in disbelief, completely forgetting that the image before her was not real and that she was within the confines of Hogwarts.

Before her, lay her brother, his eyes open and vacant, his glasses askew. His face was deathly pale and he was not moving, his forehead caked with blood. She stared at the image before her in shock, her entire body freezing up. She could hear people screaming, but before she could convince herself to do something — anything — Professor Lupin rushed forward and threw himself in front of her, arms spread wide.

She did not have the time to consider the irony of this, as he had done the exact same thing to Harry, who had been incredibly offended by the gesture. He had discussed it with her the previous evening in painstaking detail. Instead, all she could do was continue staring at the spot on the floor where her dead brother had been, motionless and pale.

She didn't know how long she stood there before a hand rested lightly on her arm.

She startled and looked up at Tori in surprise. She was staring at her with concern and a great deal of shock, but Nessa was not entirely sure how she was supposed to respond. Professor Lupin was dismissing the class and shooting her glances as he did so, but before either he or Tori could say anything to her, she had pushed her way through the students and made a beeline for the loo.

She ran into a couple of people on the way and heard Tori calling after her, but she ignored them, racing into one of the bathroom stalls and making it to the toilet just in time before she emptied the contents of her lunch.

She fell back against the wall of the stall, curling her legs up against herself and trying to convince her stomach not to go for another round. Her heart was racing and her stomach was cramping from the attempt to keep herself from sobbing. She was shaking uncontrollably and she couldn't tell if she were having an anxiety attack or if it were just cold in the bathroom. Maybe it was both because she felt lightheaded and a little dizzy.

Harry was not dead. He was perfectly safe. Completely fine. It was only a boggart. Harry was not dead. He was perfectly safe. Completely fine.

Except all she could see was her brother's lifeless body. She choked on a sob and swore violently as she wiped away the tears aggressively. Perhaps she would have been more prepared to have seen it if she knew what to expect. But, she had really made the assumption that it would be a spider. There had been nothing in her life more terrifying than that. She would never have guessed that it would have been a dead Harry, though maybe she should have.

If she'd put more thought into what really scared her, it made sense that it would be what she'd see. Her entire life had revolved around her concern for her brother, the anxiety of watching him risk his life year after year. That fear alone was certainly much more a common occurrence than a spider. Of course, she avoided spiders on principle, so it was hardly comparable. Though it did go to show that she shouldn't have been so nonchalant about picking something she was afraid of, the sudden epiphany was of no use to her now — curled in on herself and leaning against a bathroom stall on a dirty floor.

"Nessa?" said a soft, concerned voice as the bathroom door creaked open.

She meant to respond that she was fine, except the only thing that came out was another gasping sob. She gave up trying to stop them because her stomach was killing her and it felt like she couldn't breathe. Except letting it loose hurt just as much because it felt like her insides were trying to be ripped out by the force of the sobbing.

The door rattled and Nessa did not notice that she had locked it, but she was too far gone to open it now. It didn't matter. Tori appeared from the gap underneath the door and used the frame to pull herself under and into the stall. She placed a firm hand on the back of Nessa's head and shoved it in between her knees. She was saying something to her, her voice melodic and gentle, but Nessa was too busy trying to remember how to breathe to distinguish any of the words.

It felt like hours before the compression in her torso and the increase in blood flow to her head made it easier for her to breathe. As thoughts other than her increasing panic began to flow slowly back into her head, she grabbed onto them in an attempt to ground herself in reality again. Focusing on a spot of the tile under one of her knees, she tried to direct those thoughts to what the tile looked like — the color, the shape, the texture — and repeated it to herself over and over again until her breathing was more controlled and her heart rate started to slow.

The shivers, or tremors, more likely, were still coursing through her as she raised her head until it rested on the back of the bathroom stall and closed her eyes. She felt Tori reach across her and heard the sound of the flushing toilet, but she ignored it. They were cramped in the stall and Tori shifted so that they sat across from each other, one of her legs bent and in between her own. Nessa opened her eyes when the silence continued and Tori did not leave the stall.

Tori was not looking at her, but had her own eyes closed and her head tilted back in the same manner.

"I thought it was going to be a spider," she said, surprised by the hoarseness of her voice. She must have been sobbing more violently than she had thought.

"So did I," said Tori, opening her eyes, but keeping them trained on a spot somewhere above her. "It took me a while to realize what was happening. I thought Lupin was going to pass out for a moment."

Nessa laughed hollowly.

"Leave it to me and Harry to turn Defence into chaos."

Tori lowered her gaze suddenly and met hers head on, turmoil and concern darkening the gray in her eyes.

"Are you okay?" she whispered.

"Yeah, I —" Nessa paused because she really didn't know what to say. The rational part of her felt she was overreacting, but the other, ugly, anxious side made her feel close to the edge still. "I mean, I don't really know. It was…intense, but I think I'm fine. It'll just take me a minute. You know, once I can convince my brain to do its job again."

"You scared the hell out of me."

Nessa laughed softly, more to keep herself from crying again than because there was anything funny about the situation.

"Sorry," she said, bending her leg so that it nudged her best friend's knee lightly. Tori smiled, albeit weakly, and returned the gesture. "It was really just the surprise of it all. Not that I think I'd have handled it much better even if I did see it coming, but you know, maybe less dramatic about it."

"I don't think it was dramatic at all," Tori said firmly. "I think you handled it about as well as I would have, if roles were reversed. Course, if the dementors are anything to go by, I would have started screaming too, so you may have handled it better than I would have."

Nessa snorted.

"You always do have to go above and beyond, don't you?" she quipped.

Tori snorted in return.

"Yeah, that's me," she said seriously. "Overachiever."

Nessa had no idea if it was the seriousness of her tone or the desperation with which she was trying to pull herself out of her funk or if maybe it was the residual hysteria. Whatever it was, she couldn't stop the laughter that erupted at this statement. It felt much better that Tori seemed to find the comment equally as amusing and erupted into laughter at the same time as she did. They laughed until they were doubling over and their eyes began to water before they managed to get it under control.

As they gasped for air and grinned at each other from across the bathroom stall, Tori leaned forward until their foreheads were leaning against each other and closed her eyes. There was a beat of silence before she spoke again.

"I love you, you know."

Nessa swallowed hard and squeezed her eyes closed even tighter.

"Don't make me cry again, Victoria."

Tori laughed and pulled back, pulling herself up from the floor with some difficulty.

"Right," she said lightly and pulled Nessa up with her. "Let's get the hell out of here, yeah? I think it's time we broke out the firewhiskey."

-o0o-

"I'm not going anywhere until you put on a shirt."

Fred seemed amused by this comment, but she was too busy looking anywhere but at him to take much notice. She should have chosen to do this with George.

Or not at all.

"How rude," Fred said, his voice shaking with laughter he was barely suppressing. She had a strong urge to push him over except then she remembered he wasn't wearing a shirt and she had no desire to come into contact with his bare skin. She flushed at the thought alone. "Are you afraid someone will see me without a shirt and assume you've snuck me out here to ravish me so early in the morning?"

Nessa glared at him before she could fully consider what she was going to see upon doing so. She made a choked sound and looked away hastily. Quidditch really did do marvelous things to the human body. It took every ounce of her self-control not to consider if George was as equally attractive as his twin — though they were twins and they had the same physique overall so this seemed a very stupid question — because wouldn't that just be entirely too dangerous a thought process?

Fred chuckled at her obvious discomfort.

"I thought this was supposed to be helping with my anxiety, Fred."

It had not been her decision to be up so early in the morning, on a Saturday no less, and especially considering she and Tori had made good on their word to drink firewhiskey after the events of the previous afternoon. The slight headache she had was not helping her irritation much either. She really needed to consider her schedule for the prior day before she started drinking. This was an unhealthy pattern of bad decisions she was certain.

At any rate, she hadn't canceled, despite her very strong desire to do so, and mostly only because she was afraid that Fred would have spent the entire rest of the day badgering her if she had. At the time, this had seemed the lesser of two evils.

"People do run without wearing shirts, you know," said Fred, a grin still evident by his tone even though she was not looking at him at all. "Perhaps you'd feel more comfortable if you took off your shirt?"

"Fred Weasley, I swear to God if you don't go back to the dormitory and get a shirt this instant, I will snap your neck —"

"Relax, Potter, I brought a shirt," he said, laughing loudly. "I only wanted to make you uncomfortable."

"I knew I should have done this with George." she muttered viciously to herself as he slipped on a T-shirt.

"I heard that," said Fred, but his eyes were twinkling so she assumed he wasn't much bothered by her sentiment. "Now are we going to do this or not?"

She'd like to have told him she wasn't going to do it, in fact, except she'd already come down here and seen him in a state of undress and been made highly uncomfortable. A refusal to do this at this point felt more like giving him something else to tease her about. Which was a dangerous precedent, given who she was speaking with.

"Fine. But if I die, it's on you."

"You're starting to sound as dramatic as Tori," he said with an eye roll. "I'll go easy on you, alright? Only one mile today."

She refrained from mentioning that one mile was still too many miles, and also from asking him how many miles he usually ran in the morning because she was certain she would be too afraid to hear the answer. Instead, she groaned a little and then jogged after him.

It was only a few yards into the ordeal that she realized just how stupid she must have been to agree to this. She couldn't run, for God's sake. Reading, yes, but running? She couldn't have made it even a quarter of a mile before she wanted to drag oxygen through her lungs as if she had been strangled and near death and any bit of air she could get would keep her within the land of the living.

Fred had been very persuasive about the entire thing, however. Which really went to show how much of a sucker she was. Or maybe she was just a people pleaser? Or were they the same thing? It really didn't much matter at this point because it all came down to the same conclusion — she was clearly an idiot.

The twins — well, the entire school, really — had heard about her episode the previous day in Defence Against the Dark Arts and had decided, in no uncertain terms, that she had to get control of her anxiety. She was 'wound tighter than Percy catching us setting off a Dungbomb in the Prefects' lounge' according to the two of them. On a good day.

Something she found completely offensive, if not totally untrue, because she hardly suspected either of them would be caught dead near her if that were the case.

Maybe it was being compared to her least favorite Weasley that had made Fred's suggestion of running as a means to ease her anxiety much more appealing. Of course, his first suggestion had been exposure to things that caused her anxiety until they no longer caused her such feelings. It was just as likely that the anxiety that the suggestion alone had caused was the bigger reason for her being out here, running around like a lunatic at six in the morning instead of sleeping like any sane person would have been doing on a Saturday.

At any rate, no assurances on her part that her anxiety was not the cause of her breakdown — however true or untrue that may have been, she still wasn't sure — and that she was perfectly capable of coping with it on her own, had deterred them from their insistence that she needed a better way to cope. So here she was, running around the grounds, having stupidly been lured into the very rational argument that regular exercise could be very helpful in diminishing the impact of anxiety and something about endorphins that would make her feel happier overall.

The science may have been sound, but considering how her legs felt like they were going to fall off and her heart and lungs felt like they were trying to claw their way up her throat, she seriously wondered if maybe she had been lied to and cheated. Maybe she simply didn't have endorphins?

"You look like you're going to die," said Fred suddenly, coming to a stop finally and pulling her from her inner monologue of self-hatred, regret, and overall irritation with healthy people, and scientists, and, most importantly, Fred Weasley.

She had kept up with him, mostly due to her absolute refusal to admit she felt like she was dying slowly, but she suspected that his earlier statement of 'taking it easy' on her was the only reason she was truly able to do so. They could only have gone about a quarter of a mile at this point and he hardly looked winded at all. Meanwhile, she was trying to get as close to the ground as possible as if it held the answers to all her breathing problems.

"There is nothing in the world I hate more than you right now," she panted desperately. "Except maybe the running."

He grinned at her and leaned against one of the trees, looking for all the world like they were merely enjoying a morning stroll, even as she attempted to control her breathing again.

"It gets easier," he laughed when she snorted in disbelief. "It does, don't be such a baby —" he ignored her completely when she flipped him off, still doubled over and trying to catch her breath at the same time — "Besides, I could use a running partner. Even if she is slow as a flobberworm."

She ignored the jibe, if only because she didn't have the energy to think of something witty to respond with.

"Why couldn't you use George, then? The two of you are up each other's —"

"Now, now, munchkin," he said with a grin. "No need to be crude on such a lovely morning, is there? Besides, George prefers running at night. As you well know."

She did. They had both offered to run with her. She had chosen Fred over George instead, something which had surprised her as much as it had them. For one thing, Fred might tease her relentlessly the entire time, but it would be far less embarrassing to struggle in front of him than the guy she was pining for. For another, Alicia did not seem to like the idea of her and George being alone together and had eyed her in interest as she'd debated which of the brothers she would choose. She didn't much care how Alicia felt, considering she'd been friends with George for a while before they'd started dating, but she didn't want to upset her if she could avoid it. And sparing George another argument over something ridiculous felt like a good decision.

Not to mention, she already had a hard enough time getting to sleep at night without adding a running high into the mix.

"Okay, then Tori."

"Tori doesn't run."

"It wouldn't kill her though, would it?" she argued petulantly, straightening and preparing for him to take off again. He did almost immediately. She kept pace beside him and tried to control her breathing better this time around.

"Have you ever run with Tori?"

"No."

"You'll wish it would kill you."

Nessa huffed out a laugh at this because she was certain it was the truth. Tori wasn't a morning person and just being dragged out of bed — to run, no less — would likely have caused a tantrum of biblical proportions. She couldn't find the words to reply, however, because she couldn't breathe again.

Maybe dying wouldn't be such a horrible thing at this point. It would take away the misery, at minimum.

They had to stop every quarter mile for her to gasp and complain, but eventually, what felt like hours later to her, but had likely been far less time, they had made it back to the castle steps. She collapsed immediately onto one of them.

"I'm not doing that again."

"Yes, you are," Fred said, laughing at the pout on her face. "But lucky for you, I don't run on Sundays and Mondays, so you can have a reprieve until then."

"How sweet of you," she grumbled with an eye roll. "With any luck, I'll be dead by then."