Chapter 7: Halloween.

'Again!'

The Quaffle hurtled towards Yianna's head. She bashed it away with her gloved hand and watched it sail into the hands of Andrei Kazakov.

Nearby, Assistant Coach Darius Armstrong hovered on his broom with a grim expression. 'Again!' he yelled in his thick Scouse accent.

Yianna halted in mid-air and adjusted her goggles. Ever since Oliver's injury in their first match, the coaching team had revised their training regime to include regular sessions of swapping positions. Today was Keeper-training, and Yianna wasn't enjoying it. For her, playing without a bat was like playing without an arm.

Armstrong flew in beside her, with Oliver Wood tailing closely behind.
'You're still swiping like a cat, Vaso.' said Armstrong. He pointed to a set of pink sparks floating parallel to the hoops. 'Be intentional. Look for your Chasers, and triangulate the points they can meet you. Two more goes, then we'll stop for lunch.'

He flew back to Andrei, signalling for another throw, but Oliver remained nearby, his jaw tight, like he was holding his breath. For a moment, Yianna considered ignoring him, but she also didn't want to be responsible for his spontaneous combustion.

'Can I help you? said Yianna.

Oliver deflated with relief. 'You're overcompensating with your left shoulder again. Which one did you injure at the Euros?'

'My right.' Yianna replied.

'That explains it. Still bugging you?' he asked.

Yianna shook her head. 'Barely. And before you ask, yes, I've been cleared by Kendrick and the Healers.'

Oliver held up his hands in surrender. 'Just making sure. You've got the instinct, you just need to fine-tune the delivery. Keep at it.'

'I'd rather do NEWT–level Arithmancy right now.' Yianna groaned, prompting a chuckle from the Keeper.

'Oh c'mon, sour-sweets, it's not that bad.' he said jovially.

Yianna's stomach did a flip. 'What did you call me?' she said.

"Oi! Enough chit-chat, you two!' Armstrong barked at them. 'Some of us want to have lunch while the sun's still up!'

Oliver looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiled at Yianna. 'Tell you what? To make you feel better, I'll play Chaser.' He waved to Leo Madigan. 'Hey Leo! Pass me that Quaffle!'

Leo obliged and flung the large crimson ball to Oliver.

'It's alright, Darius!' Oliver called, 'I'll do the last throw. You guys go.'

Armstrong gave a thumbs up. 'Ta, Ollie. Leo, Wilda, Andrei- lunchbreak!'

.

Yianna watched Armstrong and the Chasers leave the pitch, her stomach grumbling with jealousy, but was jolted out of her daydreams of food by Oliver tugging the tail of her broom.

'Alright you, enough dallying. Back to the post.' said Oliver.

Yianna gave a lazy salute and flew back to the Keeper's zone in front of the hoops. When she turned around, Oliver was already zooming towards her in a fishtail pattern, making headway toward the lower right hoop. Suddenly he swerved upwards to the centre post, catching Yianna off-guard. She swore as the Quaffle sailed past her head and through the hoop.

'What the hell was that?!' she exclaimed.

'Just keeping you on your toes!' Oliver called, flying by to retrieve the Quaffle.

'Well I can't catch with my toes, can I?! That's barely time to breathe, let alone throw!' Yianna replied.

Oliver flew up to her level, 'A strong offensive of Chasers won't be kind, and neither will I.' When Yianna growled back, he laughed. 'Oh, cheer up, sour-sweets, we've only got one throw to go!'

Yianna slid her goggles onto her forehead and looked around. 'Okay, who are you talking to?'

Oliver quirked an eyebrow. 'Uh, you? I'm assuming those ridiculous sweets you had during this morning's meeting are the cause for your delightful mood today.'

Yianna crossed her arms. 'Are we doing this last throw or what?'

Oliver nodded obligingly. 'Let's go.'

.

Yianna took her place in front of the centre hoop, hovering to and fro like she'd seen Oliver do hundreds of times. He fishtailed towards her again, flying higher and higher above the scoring area. The Quaffle was in his left hand, which she noted was unusual for Oliver, and jerked herself to the right, just before he pegged it at the upper right hoop. Yianna arched up into the Quaffle's path, catching it with both hands. Taking half a second to check the formation of pink sparks further away, she picked the centre spark below Oliver and launched a low pass, too far for him to block.

The Keeper let out a delighted whoop and rushed toward her. 'Ha! If only Armstrong had seen that one! Bloody brilliant!'

'You reckon?' Yianna asked breathlessly.

Oliver nodded. 'Absolutely. I see why they call you Vicious Vaso. You're bloody fearless.'

Yianna gave a wry smile. 'Only on the pitch.'

Oliver summoned the Quaffle and gave a satisfied smirk. 'In that case, race you to lunch!' he called.

In seconds, Yianna was on his heels, reaching out to catch and twist the tail of his broom before he reached the ground. The motion caused Oliver to roll and hit the grass with a thud.

He sat up, looking shocked. 'Bloody cheat! Where'd you learn to do that?' he exclaimed.

Yianna glided over him and hopped down on the grass. 'Backyard matches in my family are no picnic.' she said, summoning the Quaffle back to its case.

'I'll say.' Oliver grunted, 'I may need the Healers to check my ribs again.'

All the colour drained from Yianna's face. 'What? Are you okay? I didn't mean to-' she stopped when Oliver picked up his broom and barrelled past her. 'Oh, you bastard!' she shouted.

'Yes, there is home crowd advantage, but Spain barely survived against Uganda last month.' said Andrei, stirring his soup.

Brodie shook his head. 'England can't afford to relax. I swear if we tank in the Qualifiers like ninety-four, I'm burning my jersey.' he said.

'Don't get the torch out just yet, Sol.' said Benito. He cleared his throat, causing the staff and players to all pause their conversations. 'Listen up everyone, I have an announcement.'

But he got no further, as Yianna and Oliver burst through the doors, gasping for air while their brooms clattered to the floor.

Solomon Brodie glanced at pair of them, bemused. 'What's the hurry, kids?'

Yianna and Oliver didn't answer, instead dissolving into breathless laughter.

'My word, Oliver. I think you've broken the lass.' said Coach Lance McGovern in awe.

'How's that?' Oliver puffed.

'She's smiling!' McGovern exclaimed.

Blushing furiously, Yianna flipped her middle finger at McGovern, who let out a hearty laugh. Of the three coaches, he had the most generous sense of humour.

Benito cleared his throat again. 'Anyway, as I was saying before the bulls entered the china shop, as a thank you for our recent run of wins, Deverill's gotten us tickets to the England-Spain match next week.' Benito announced.

There was a collective cheer across the room.

'We'll finish training early on Wednesday, then travel with portkeys to Catalonia for the five o'clock match and stay overnight. Athol Harkin's booked us the same hotel as the English squad.' said Benito.

'And it will be Day of the Dead. Parties everywhere.' added Andrei.

'A great way to blend in.' Benito agreed. 'Which reminds me, Harkin said feel free to dress up for Halloween.'

Halloween, 1992.

Yianna dashed back to the Huffelpuff common room. It was quiet and spacious, with only the crackling fireplace to be heard. She leaned over an oak table and groaned.

'I should not have run after all that food…'

'If you're going to puke, don't do it near me. This library book is over a hundred years old.' said a voice. Sprawled out across one of the squashy yellow sofas was a boy so tall and gangly he was practically the length of the entire couch. He glanced up from the giant leather-bound book he was reading.

Yianna rolled her eyes and reached for the large radio on the nearest mantle shelf. 'Whatever. Mind if I put the game on?'

'Game?' he said.

'Between the Arrows and the Wasps?' Yianna said.

The boy frowned. 'That doesn't seem like a fair fight. One's an inanimate object and one's an insect. Or is the wasp dead too?' he said, trying to hold back a smile.

'Quidditch, Schroeder. They're Quidditch teams.' Yianna explained through gritted teeth. Sometimes she swore he acted like this just to annoy her.

'So how do wasps play Quidditch? Do they whack little tiny balls?' Schroeder continued, starting to snicker, 'Haha, balls.'

Yianna rolled her eyes. 'Gross. Why aren't you at the feast?'

He shrugged. 'Hall was too noisy, so I bailed before dessert. I'm sorted though.' he said, holding up some bread-rolls and an assorted box of sweets.

Though Yianna was concentrating on the radio, she thought it odd for Schroeder to skip the feast. At thirteen years old, he was easily the tallest person in their year, and ate plenty to retain that title. 'Shame.' she said, 'the sticky date pudding was amazing. Aha!'

The Wireless crackled to life, with two excited commentators talking over the distant hum of the Quidditch crowd. Yianna grabbed a purple beanbag and set herself down on the floor by the radio. Schroeder said nothing and returned to his book.

.

'That's what I'm gonna do.' Yianna sighed after a while.

'What? Commentate? This is the most I've heard you speak in three years.' Schroeder said.

'Shut up. I'm gonna play Quidditch professionally. Beats sitting through History of Magic, that's for sure.' Yianna replied.

Schroeder lowered his book, a crooked smile on his face. 'I don't know, those kind of facts might come in handy whenever you get concussions.'

Yianna gave an undignified snort. 'Yeah, like "What's your name? When's your birthday? How many fingers am I holding up? Who led the Egyptian Goblin Revolt of eighteen-eighty-nine?"'

Schroeder rolled his eyes. 'Ha-dee-ha. The answer's Kah-nuun the First by the way.'

'Nerd.' she muttered, before turning to face Schroeder more directly. 'Hey, what did you mean before- when you said the hall was too noisy?'

Schroeder shifted uncomfortably. 'I dunno. Loud spaces freak me out.' he mumbled. Suddenly he didn't seem so big.

Yianna frowned. 'You live in a boarding school. How's that working out for you?'

He shrugged again and held up the book. 'Not great. Hence, I'm in here.'

Yianna felt a pang of guilt. He really was serious. 'Oh. Sorry.'

'Whatever. Sweet?'

Yianna frowned, confused. 'What?'

Schroeder pulled out a brown paper bag and cleared his throat awkwardly. 'Do you… uh, would you like a sweet?' he murmured.

Yianna stared at the bag, then back at Schroeder. 'Sure.'

He tossed something to Yianna, who caught it with ease. She took a bite out of the sugar-coated snake and her eyes widened. 'Holy smokes- what is this?!'

Schroeder gave a toothy grin. 'Sour worms. We have them back home. I haven't seen them at Honeydukes yet. But these ones are extreme.'

'These are amazing.' Yianna replied, eagerly taking another bite. 'Got any more?'

.

The air was crisp in the mountains of northern Spain. The Quidditch stadium, hidden in a cavernous gorge, was abuzz with witches and wizards from all over Europe. Among the throng of fans dressed in red and white were the Puddlemere squad, all in matching jerseys in support of England, except Andrei, who, as a Czech citizen was happy to wear neutral colours. Even Dante Luis Benito had swapped his usual green Venezuela cap for a white fedora adorned with an English rose.

'Pretty sure- Benito planned this-' Leo huffed as they scaled yet another flight of stairs, 'as another- training- exercise.'

'The reward will be worth it, Leo.' Brodie called from behind him. 'What a view!'

Marching right behind their Captain, Yianna had to agree. The cavernous stadium was aglow with light and colour from the twenty-thousand-strong crowd. Mercifully, they soon found their seats in a spacious box with three rows of sleek timber chairs, Yianna settling in between Leo and Wilda.

On Wilda's other side, Oliver Wood was quietly fumbling with his programme in one hand and a Muggle notebook and quill in the other. Wilda seemed to take no notice, turning behind her to talk to Brodie and Benito, but Yianna stared at him with curiosity. Eventually, he noticed her gaze.

She jutted her chin towards the notebook. 'Homework on game night?'

'Just a record of stats and observations. Can't miss an opportunity to learn from the best.' He held up a double page spread with several hand-drawn tables and diagrams filled in with cramped handwriting.

'You know that there are people who get paid to record this stuff, right?' said Yianna.

Oliver shrugged. 'True. But it helps to have a player's mindset with these things. Did you know that Valentina Cabrera and Morticia Callahan are both the leading female goal-scorers for their nations with-'

'four hundred and eighteen goals each? ' Yianna said. She immediately looked down and let her hair fall around her face, in the hope that Oliver couldn't see her flushing pink with embarrassment.

Oliver raised his dark eyebrows and had the decency to look impressed. 'Looks like someone else has done their homework.'

'Shut up.' she mumbled back, and Oliver chuckled, returning to his notebook.

On her other side, Yianna noticed Benjy, Andrei and Leo exchanging small pieces of parchment and speaking in hushed tones. Her heart skipped a beat in alarm.

'What are you doing?' said Yianna, nudging Leo's side.

'Just a light flutter.' said Leo.

'You want in?' said Andrei.

Yianna's eyed widened and she glanced back at their coach to check he wasn't looking. 'You realise you're betting on your own sport, right?' she whispered.

'Chill, Vaso. It's an international friendly none of us are involved in.' Benjy replied, tucking his parchment into his shirt pocket.

'If someone sees you…' Yianna hissed.

'Relax, buttercup. We're big boys- we know what we're doing.' Benjy replied.

'Here come the mascots!' shouted Brodie. Everyone's attention suddenly turned to the centre of the stadium.

.

Following the mascot displays, the players and referees made their entrance; the English in white and red, and the Spaniards in red and yellow. The balls were released and the game was on: Even with Ominoculars, the players were almost impossible to keep up with- dodging and diving like twirling ribbons, two professional hive-minds on broomsticks. These were the real masters of Quidditch, and Yianna couldn't get enough of it. The athleticism of each player, the strange dance of finesse and brutality were a glorious reminder of why wizard-kind loved this sport. Both teams were fighting hard, and had only scored a dozen or so goals each. But an hour later, England were ploughing ahead by thirteen goals, sending most of the Puddlemere squad hoarse with excited yelling. Suddenly, the referee blew his whistle, causing boos and jeers from the crowd.

'You've got to be kidding!' called Oliver.

'Calm down, Oliver. It's only a foul.' said Wilda, sitting down again.

'How can you be calm when they've cocked up that badly? That'll cost England a penalty!' he exclaimed.

'Do you want me to get him a sedative?' Yianna murmured to Wilda, who snorted with laughter. She shook her head and smiled.

'He always gets like this. It's almost more entertaining than the real game.' said Wilda.

The referee's whistle sounded again, and play resumed. Everyone's eyes darted to the English Seeker, Blythe Parkin, who was circling the top end of the stadium and took a sudden dive straight towards a scrum of Chasers in the centre of the pitch.

'Look at Parkin! Bloody hell!' Brodie exclaimed.

'Take notes, Benjy. She's on fire!' Benito shouted, clapping his Seeker on the shoulder from behind.

'Where's Alvarez?' said Andrei, looking around with his Ominoculars.

'There!' called Yianna and Wilda together. They pointed at the Spanish Keeper's goalposts, where the English Beaters had distracted the Keeper long enough for the Chasers to score another goal.

'Another goal for England!' announced the commentators in English and Spanish. 'Now with two hundred and seventy points, and Spain on one hundred and thirty.'

Suddenly, Alvarez shot underneath the English goalposts, with both of the Spanish Beaters guarding either side of him. Parkin sped after them, dodging a curving Bludger that hurtled towards her.

'Where's the Snitch?!' shouted Leo.

'There!' shouted Benjy, pointing at a glint near their eye level. He had been following the Seekers' progress very carefully, looking for the Snitch like his life depended on it.

No sooner had he spoken, Alvarez shot up like a rocket, leaving his Beaters behind. One of them deflected a Bludger from an English Beater, and redirected it at Parkin, blocking her path and sending her spiralling towards the stands. Many of the crowd were starting to catch on to the action, and there was a collective 'ooh' from several spectators.

'He was feinting! Damn that was good!' Brodie exclaimed.

'Parkin's screwed.' groaned Oliver, watching her fall slowly to the grass.

'LOOK!' Yianna yelled, pointing to the red blur that was Alvarez, who swerved towards their end of the stadium, his arm outstretched…

The referee's whistle let out three long blasts and the crowd erupted.

'¡ESPAŇA SON LAS GANADORAS! SPAIN ARE THE WINNERS!'

The scoreboard flashed with golden numbers: SPAIN: 380 – ENGLAND: 270.

'You're joking!' Wilda said.

'Well, that was spectacular.' Brodie said, standing and stretching his arms.

'That was phenomenal!' Oliver exclaimed.

'And let that be a lesson to you all, kids! What a performance!' said Benito.

Leo slung his arms around Yianna and Andrei. 'And now, mi amigos, we party!'

The after-party was back at The Singing Serpent, the hotel where the English clubs were staying. From the outside, the hotel presented similarly to The Leaky Cauldron, shabby and inconspicuous. The interior by contrast, was palatial. The foyer and hallways were lavishly decorated for Day of the Dead; filled with floral displays in deep rich colours, illuminated by gnarly candelabras and floating paper lanterns. With multiple functions happening across the hotel, there were wizards and witches everywhere dressed in elaborate and macabre costumes. The Puddlemere team and a few dozen English revellers also staying at the hotel had changed from their red and white jerseys into their Halloween outfits.

'Where are the girls?' said Andrei, fiddling with his skeleton cane and top hat.

'Probably still getting dressed.' Brodie replied. The Captain had opted for more subtle attire: dozens of tiny spiders printed on his dark collared shirt crawled around. 'They'd better hurry up.' he grumbled.

'Who'd better hurry up?' said Wilda behind them. The Puddlemere men all turned around and whooped.

Wilda was dressed in a softer version of a traditional Day of the Dead outfit; a white peasant shirt, long flowy skirt, and floral crown around her auburn hair. Without any skeletal makeup, she looked much friendlier than many of the other female patrons milling around the establishment. Yianna on the other hand, had put makeup on; she'd swapped her glasses for bold black eyeliner to frame her brown eyes, and red lipstick to match the fiery tips of her curly hair. Her black dress was simple but striking; hugging her curves in all the right places and ending in shreds at her knees. The most unusual part of her ensemble was her stockings, with one leg coloured bronze and the other leg silver.

'Wow. You're not Yianna Vaso.' said Brodie.

'And what exactly are you meant to be?' asked Benjy, shamelessly looking her up and down.

'An Empusa. Ancient Greek demon who seduces foolish young men.' said Yianna matter-of-factly.

'Cute.' Leo replied.

'They usually kill and devour their lovers flesh afterwards.' Yianna added.

Leo paled slightly. 'Not so cute.'

'And you just happened to have that outfit lying around, sweet-cheeks?' Benjy said.

Yianna shrugged. 'The perks of being related to a fashion designer. I'm amazed you thought to bring an outfit, Benjy. Your face is scary enough as it is.'

'Ha-ha.' he drawled.

The Puddlemere squad made their way in the function room on the first floor, with similar decorations to the downstairs foyer. A few dozen spectators and guests who were also staying at the hotel had been invited to the exclusive after-party, and were milling around in anticipation of the English team's arrival.

'Hey Oliver, Chudley Cannons called, they want their uniform back.' Wilda chuckled.

Oliver rubbed his neck, looking a tad embarrassed. Though his dark trousers and shoes were the same ones he'd worn to the game, his collared shirt was a garish shade of orange, printed with little black jack o'lanterns.

'It was the only thing I could find last minute.' he said.

'That's gotta be the most outrageous thing I've ever seen you wear. Where'd you get it?' said Yianna.

He grinned. 'George Weasley, actually.' he said.

'Mhm. Do me a favour and burn it tomorrow.' said Yianna.

'Rude.' he muttered.

'Honest.' she retorted, turning away to find the bar.

'Miss Yianna!' boomed a cheerful voice behind them.

She turned around and lit up with a smile. 'Mr Stavro!' She stepped forward to greet the man with a friendly hug and a kiss on each cheek. 'I didn't know you were here!' she said.

'We play Spain for our group match in the winter, and I wanted to see how they performed against your beloved England. Ah, Dante Luis Benito! How are you, sir?' he said, leaning across to extend his hand.

'Fine as ever, Stavro. Good to see you.' said Benito, returning the vigorous handshake. He turned to his squad. 'Everyone, this is Stavro Giakoumatous, coach of the Greek National Quidditch Team. Stavro, this is my team, Puddlemere United.'

'And doing fine work, I hear. My congratulations to you.' said Giakoumatous.

'I forgot you two knew each other.' Benito said to Yianna.

Giakoumatous beamed with pride, 'Of course! I coached this little rising star in Thessaloniki. You owe me great debt, Dante!'

'You played in the Greek League, Yianna?' Wilda said.

Yianna nodded meekly. 'Three seasons, straight out of school.'

'And you are always welcome back, if you find Mister Dante's style not to your liking.' said said Giakoumatous, giving the others a mischievous wink. 'But now that I've found you here, Miss Yianna, I bring you an exciting proposition.'

'Is it from your son or your nephew this time?' Yianna said, arching an eyebrow.

Giakoumatous gave a booming laugh that made his whole body shake. 'Ah, you did remember! Nephew Petros is now engaged, but my youngest boy, Ari is still unattached. Give him a chance, Yianna. Your great-grandparents agree you'd make a fine pair.' he sang, waggling a finger at her.

'You lot need to find a new hobby.' said Yianna.

The Greek Coach raised his hands in surrender. 'You can tell them yourself once we organise lunch during your next visit. But, to be serious, I do come on business, and Dante, I would greatly value your opinion. Shall we talk?' he asked.

'Only if you're buying.' said Benito. 'By the way' he said to the rest of his team, 'if anyone wants to sweet-talk Athol Harkin into a tryout for England, now's your chance.' he said, nodding towards the other end of the bar. 'Don't stuff it up.' he added.

Leo and Benjy eagerly and made a beeline for a tall man with a slick mane of silver hair.

.

With the English team now present and joining in the celebrations (and commiserations- they all had a slightly dejected look about them), the rest of the guests mingled with more enthusiasm.

As Yianna made a beeline for the ladies restroom, she noticed a beefy-looking security wizard in black robes standing near the door. She stopped in her tracks. He nodded at her and motioned towards the cloakroom near the entrance. Slowly, Yianna changed direction and walked towards the double doors. She chanced a glance over her shoulder, but was met with the sight of the security wizard right behind her.

'Here we go again…' she thought.

Across the room, Benjy paused his conversation with English Chaser Mick Cobbity and a dazed-looking Blythe Parkin.

'Hey.' he muttered, slapping Oliver's arm. Oliver turned his head to see what Benjy was looking at. The two of them watched Yianna and the man enter the cloakroom, followed by the wizard manning the booth, and immediately slip out of sight.

'Excuse us.' Oliver said. As soon as they were out of proximity, Benjy grabbed Oliver by the elbow.

'Come with me.'

They reached the cloakroom and stepped inside. Several rows of cloaks and capes hung on the racks. Oliver was confused. The space was practically the size of a broom cupboard… where had Yianna gone?

Benjy tapped his arm once again, and pulled back at a long fur coat. A plain black door stood behind it. Tapping the door with his wand, the door creaked open, and nodding to Oliver, quietly stepped through the threshold. Copying his friend, Oliver pulled his wand out and followed him.

The doorway led to a long dark hallway, lit only by small glowing spheres. It reminded Oliver of late nights in the Hogwarts corridors after Quidditch practice- the only reason he was ever out after hours. He and Benjy halted at the sound of footsteps and low voices somewhere around the corner. In an instant, Benjy was pulling out a pair of Extendable Ears from his pocket.

'Really, Benjy?' Oliver whispered.

The Seeker shrugged. 'Aren't you the one always saying it's good to be prepared?' he said, offering one to Oliver.

'Yeah, but not-'

'Shh! Listen.' Benjy hissed, dropping one of the ears and watching it crawl around the corner.

Faintly, they heard Yianna's low Northern lilt. 'I see you brought a friend, Yuri. Have I finally scared Vincent off-'

She was cut off by a slapping sound. Oliver gripped his wand tighter and raised it, but Benjy held him back and gave him a firm warning look. The two of them edged closer to the wall.

'Enough talk. Do you have it?' said a gravelly Englishman.

'Yes. If you'll just let me-'

'Uh-uh, not so fast. Tell me where.'

Yianna let out a shaky breath, 'In the lining under my skirt. On my left and right.' she whispered.

'Search her.' the man ordered.

There was an uneasy silence, then the sound of coins clinking together.

'How much?' said the gravelly-voiced man.

'Sixty Galleons, as promised. Bloody lucky they didn't search me when we arrived.' Yianna said quietly.

Oliver and Benjy stared at each other, wide-eyed.

'Very good.' the first man said.

'Can I go now?' said Yianna. Was that fear in her voice, wondered Oliver? He suddenly remembered their conversation from the other day. He'd called her fearless. "Only on the pitch." she'd said. It sounded like she had good reason to be afraid of whoever she was with right now. But why was she there in the first place?

'You may.' the man replied. 'Until next month, Ms Vasokopoulous. You'll receive an owl with the location. Same amount. Vincent sends his regards.'

At the sound of the men's approaching footsteps, Oliver and Benjy scrambled back up the hall to the cloakroom. They ducked behind another row of long capes and hid, waiting with baited breath for the men to pass back into the function room.

As soon as the men were gone, they sprinted back through the door and down the hallway. They burst around the corner, wands raised, but found the space empty. Yianna was gone.

'Yianna?' Oliver called, looking around.

Benjy crouched down and picked up his other Extendable Ear. He clucked his tongue. 'What do you know? Looks like our Beater's got some serious side hustle.'

'We don't know that for sure.' said Oliver. Merlin, where was that woman?

'She just handed over sixty galleons to some random, Oliver. Not exactly chocolate frog cards, mate.' said Benjy.

'Let's worry about that right now. We need to find her.'

'She's probably disapparated, mate. I say we just go back and look for her there.'

Oliver couldn't think of any better solutions, so he conceded. 'Fine. But no asking her about the money, alright?'

'And get my head ripped off? No thanks.' Benjy said, stepping back into the doorway. The wizard from the cloakroom was sitting back at his booth, and regarded Benjy and Oliver curiously.

Benjy casually picked up his and Oliver's cloaks and smiled at the wizard.

'These are ours. Gracias, mate.'

.

With cloak in hand, Oliver scanned the room once again for any sign of his colleague. After doing a head-count of the rest of his team and coaches, he realised that Wilda was missing too. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her coming out of the ladies restroom, and sidled over to her as she joined another group's conversation.

'Hey Wilda, have you seen Yianna?' said Oliver.

'Yeah, she was just in the ladies. She's headed to bed though, I think she ate something that disagreed with her. She didn't look great.' said Wilda.

'Thanks.' he replied, and hurried across the room and out the door.

He found her halfway up the stairs on the way to their rooms on the second floor.

'Vaso. Hey, Vaso!'

Yianna spun around, wand already in hand.

Oliver held up his hands in defence. 'Whoa, whoa- hey. It's me.'

Yianna squinted up at him. 'Wood? Sorry, I can't see squat. Hang on…'

She fumbled around the layers of her skirt and pulled out her glasses from her pocket.

'There we go.' she said, once they were on her face. The fiery tips of her hair had faded back to their usual black and stray silver curls, and covered one of her lenses.

'Are you okay?' asked Oliver.

Yianna nodded. 'Upset stomach, I think there was salmon in the canapes. Then again, it could be your shirt.' she added quickly.

'Still rude.' Oliver said.

'Still honest. Anyway, I'm gonna turn in early. Benito and Sol said they'd walk Wilda back.'

'Well, I'll walk you back then.'

Oliver braced for another one of her scathing quips, but for once, Yianna didn't argue.

'Okay.' she mumbled.

He leapt up the remaining steps that separated them and fell into step with her. She didn't say a word. As they walked, he noticed she kept her right hand firmly on her wand, and her other hand gripping her skirt so tightly her knuckles were white.

'You're shaking.' he said. 'Are you cold?'

'I'm fine. Um, this is me.' she said, stopping outside Room Number twenty-two, and inserting a large metal key into the red door. 'Thanks again. Night.'

As she turned, her hair flicked away from her face. In the candlelight, Oliver made out a dark purple bruise under her left cheekbone. He reached for the door before she could close it.

'Yianna… your face.'

Yianna refused to meet his eyes, looking instead at his shoulder. Perhaps it was the fact that he was so close that unsettled her, always so ready to confront what he saw. Or that he used her first name so softly. She hadn't expected that sort of gentleness from him. Whatever it was, she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of her full attention.

'I tripped on the way out of the restroom.' she whispered.

'And into that man from the hallway?' he said.

That got her attention. Her resolved weakened immediately and she stared straight at him, brown eyes blazing. She opened the door a little wider. 'Have you been following me? Rude.' she said.

'Honest.' Oliver replied, feeling a tad proud that he'd thrown her own retort back at her. 'Look, he seemed dodgy, so we wanted to make s-'

'We?'

'Look, Benjy and I thought maybe-'

'Bloody Benjy! Why am I not surprised?' she growled. 'I know he doesn't trust me, but I didn't think that extended to you.'

'What are you hiding?'

'Nothing that concerns you. Now go back and enjoy the party like a normal person, Wood, instead of snooping around my personal life.' she hissed.

And with that, she slammed the door in his face. Damn that woman, he thought. What the hell was she keeping secret?

So… it's been a year. And a bit. Oops.

I've done some revisions, and can't wait to share more with you. Keep following for more updates!