JeepJoop711: He's definitely good at avoiding anything to do with things he feels uncomfortable about. He might not push away his friends, but he is becoming very secretive. That's so much for your support, I really appreciate it.

Flame Wolfe: Thanks so much! Really glad.

CenturionEon: Yeah, those twins are trouble and Alexander is way too unsure to not take their advice. Thank you!

Alexander found himself enjoying most of his third-year classes. Sure, Astronomy still went over his head and History of Magic was always a bore with Professor Binns' droning voice. Potions were interesting if he kept his head down, worked well with Blaise and didn't draw attention to himself, which passed by uneventfully.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was quickly moving to be his favourite subject, in line with the rest of the students. Professor Lupin was a great teacher and made sure they properly understood how to deal with dark creatures. His habit to check up on Alexander, however, was just a tiny bit irritating after the whole Boggart incident. Lupin seemed to think that Alexander needed to talk, but he felt like he was fine on his own. The incident was done, it was over so why did they need to linger on it? He liked Lupin and everything, he thought he was a decent guy, but there was no way he was going to tell the Professor about his feelings over a bar of chocolate. So, Alexander ensured that every time he wasn't the last one out of the door when class ended. The last thing he needed was Lupin's eyes boring at him as if he were staring into every crevice of his soul.

Harry and Ron complained about their Divination class and Professor Trelawney every chance they got. Alexander was incredibly relieved that he hadn't taken their advice. Sucks to be them. He loved his friends, he really did, but often they weren't the best at making good decisions about grades and classes. He snickered during meals in the Great Hall as they moaned about how dull it was and received grumpy looks in response.

For Alexander, Ancient Ruins were especially a fascinating subject. He'd never heard of anything like it before and learnt a ton of odd information, particularly some that would be good for spells. But it was also the lesson where he'd be able to chat with Hermione the most.

They worked seamlessly; they sat together and shared answers; Hermione would sometimes help him when he was struggling with translations. Her mind was better at picking up difficult topics a lot faster and she was more skilled at explaining the concepts, her head leaning in close over his paper. Alexander was a swift learner in turn and felt comfortable enough to prod her if he didn't understand. He trusted that she wouldn't get annoyed with him. Well, most of the time at least. Without Harry and Ron, Alexander also noticed that Hermione spoke longer without being interjected by the boys and her voice was more light-hearted. She made a few jibs on her own and beamed a lot more when she got an answer correct, her two overgrown teeth on full display. He couldn't help his smile at the sight.

Care of Magical Creatures, he was sorry to say, was becoming his least favourite class and more of a time waster. It was clear to all the students that Hagrid wasn't that confident after the last class and had stuck them to learning about Flobberworms. Alexander was disappointed; all those creatures mentioned in his textbook and not one was going to be touched upon. It was kind of a letdown. And he felt for Hagrid, but truthfully, he'd rather have Kettleburn as a teacher no matter how much he liked Hagrid as a person. But he kept this little snippet to himself, as Harry wouldn't be pleased and had taken up glaring at anyone who so much as huffed in the lessons.

Outside of lessons, he also occupied himself with Duelling sessions with Maurice. He was gradually becoming a proficient dueller, and Maurice commented one day how impressed he was with how far Alexander had come since last year. Alexander could stand his ground against some of the members, and it was only Maurice's experience that gets the better of him. He slowly began to notice other people's tactics: Maurice was good at Defensive spells, and sometimes added a little sneaky one to catch him off guard. The others went for aggressive techniques, which were easier to block, and Alexander had their wands in his hands in a matter of minutes.

Some Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws he saw briefly in the corridors and would wave at them in the Great Hall and chatted with them when grouped up together in classes. Others waved at him without knowing their name. Most people knew Alexander for some reason, more than he realised. The first years pointed at him and whispered his name in a huddle, though he guessed that might have been because Sullivan was with them.

He mentioned this off-handily to Nia one day and Nia replied because firstly his grandfather is well known and because he and his friends saved the school twice already.

Alexander furrowed his brows. "Yeah, but so has Ron and Hermione," he said pointedly. "You don't see people waving at them often or knowing their names even."

Nia threw him an exasperated look. "Look, Alex, you're friends with Helen, one of the most popular witches in Hogwarts, and Harry Potter, the boy who lived. That's gotta count for something, right?"

Alexander hummed. "I suppose."

"But you're a Laurent, don't forget – that's what makes you different," Nia said, flicking through her magazine. "Your name is important in the wizarding world. Weasley is seen mostly as Harry Potter's best friend or the Weasley twins' brother. Granger is too in love with her books to branch out with others so not that many people are aware of her existence."

"That's not true," he said, frowning.

"Hate to break it to you, Laurent, but it is," shrugged Nia. "Plus, you're more approachable than you give yourself credit for." She looked up at him with a lightly disgusted look. "I'm already gagging while saying this, but I heard some second-year and first-year girls moon about how cute you look."

Alexander blinked then turned red as Nia smirked at his reaction.

"H-how –" He cleared his throat. "How do you know all this?"

Nia studied her nails. "I just do, I guess. Always been an observer." She looked up. "I think you underestimate your popularity around here, Laurent."

All Alex could do was stare stunned at her as she fiddled with the rings on her fingers.

When he entered the Common Room, he saw his friends huddling in one of the corner armchairs. They greeted him when he approached. Crookshanks, who'd been lying in Hermione arms, leapt into his lap when he sat down. Ron eyed the cat with narrowed eyes. Alexander scratched under Crookshanks's ear and felt the purr of her chest.

"Alex, you ready?" said Ron excitedly. "First Hogsmeade weekend's coming up. Fred and George keep talking Honeydukes since I can remember."

Alexander's stomach churned at the visit. He'd almost forgotten. "Oh, right. . . yeah, um."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Nothing, I'll meet you guys there, okay?"

"Don't tell me you're ditching us?" Ron frowned. "Look, mate, if it's about Harry not being able to go then McGonagall will sign his form or – or we'll forge it somehow. We'll go together."

Alexander shook his head with a smile. "No, it's not that. It's, well. . ."

Hermione caught his eye and immediately glanced away, too quick for Alexander to decipher the look in her eye; her lips pressed together as she occupied herself with her Potions textbook. Alexander blinked. Harry peered up curiously and Ron looked expectant.

"I promised I'd meet someone there," he said, shuffling awkwardly on the armchair. His voice turned odd, more high-pitched. "A girl." Ron and Harry still looked confused. Alexander sighed. Of course, he had to spell it out for them. "On a date."

Harry appeared floored at his words. Ron's eyes widened before a wide grin etched across his face. Alexander gripped the arms of the chair in anticipation.

"And you didn't think to tell us?" demanded Ron, leaning forwards.

"I'm telling you now, aren't I?"

Ron waved a hand. "Oh, you know what I mean, right, Harry? See? Well, go on then. Tell your mates. With who?"

"Ron!" hissed Hermione. Her voice turned sharpish. "Alexander doesn't need to tell anyone." She still wouldn't look at him.

Ron's mouth dropped as his head snapped to her. "You knew." He threw an accusatory glance at Alexander. "How come she knows? You told her first?"

Alexander became defensive. "I haven't told anybody until just now."

"Right," said Ron with a disbelieving look. "So go on then. Who're going with?"

He heard Hermione rustling with sheets of parchment. "It's, er, Helen – Helen Fawley," Alexander confessed.

"She's the one above us, right?" asked Harry.

"Yeah," said Ron, with a slightly impressed tone. "Helen Fawley, mate, that's well good. She's fit, good on you."

Alexander couldn't help the relieved smile. "Yeah. . ." he said breathlessly, a stab of pride in his chest. "I know."

"She's popular and prettier than most of the girls in the school. How ever did you get to agree to go with you?" Hermione huffed and leaned over to smack Ron on the shoulder. "Ow!" he groaned, rubbing his shoulder. "What was that for?"

Hermione didn't answer and peered down at her textbook with a tiny scowl. Alexander shrugged unknowingly when Ron caught his eye. Girls and their moods.

"So, it's okay then?" asked Alexander hesitantly. "You're not too upset about it, right?"

"Nah," Ron shook his head. A wicked smirk appeared. "Just let us know how it goes, yeah?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Alexander turned pinkish but shyly laughed. He looked over and saw that Harry appeared distracted as if lost in thought. Harry had been doing that more often lately. He tuned out when they were having a conversation and Alexander knew asking him would be in vain. Before he could ask, Crookshanks, pounced at Ron, or more specifically, at Ron's bag.

"Oi!" Ron yelled, seizing his bag as Crookshanks sank four sets of claws deep inside it and began tearing ferociously. "Get off!"

"Ron, don't!" said Alexander, jumping out of his seat.

But Ron wouldn't listen and tried to pull the bag away, but Crookshanks clung on, spitting and slashing.

"Ron, don't hurt him!" squealed Hermione.

Ron, furious, whirled the bag around, and Scabbers came flying out of the top. Alexander lunged but the rat slipped out of his hands and scuttered away, terrified as Crookshanks chased after him. Scabbers shot beneath an old chest of drawers. Ron pulled Scabbers out by the tail while Hermione grabbed her cat.

"Look at him!" he spewed furiously to Hermione, dangling Scabbers in front of her. "Just look. He's skin and bone!"

Alexander frowned at Ron's tone. "Ron, calm down," he warned, but Ron wouldn't listen as he glared at Hermione and her cat.

"Keep that cat away from Scabbers. There's something funny about that animal."

"Crookshanks doesn't understand it's wrong!" snapped Hermione, her voice shaking as she stroked her pet.

Ron glared and huddled the trembling Scabbers to his chest. "I already warned you before. Look at him, he's terrified."

"Don't blame her for it. Crookshanks is a cat, Ron, what do you expect," said Alexander, irritated, causing Ron to snap his gaze to him accusingly. "It's supposed to chase the rat. Surely you know that?"

"Why are you taking her side?" groused Ron angrily. "Her cat's got it in for Scabbers!" He ignored the people around him who were starting to giggle.

"I'm not taking sides, I'm pointing out the obvious," sighed Alexander, rolling his eyes. Ron could be really annoying sometimes.

"Yeah, well, just tell her to keep that bloody cat away, or it'll have to go. Scabbers was here first, and he's ill."

Ron threw one last scathing look at Hermione and stormed off towards the boys' dormitories, grumbling under his breath. Alexander scoffed as he glared at his back.

"I can't help what Crookshanks does," said Hermione with an upset expression. "Why does he have to be so insufferable?" She huffed.

"Don't pay him any attention, Hermione. Ron's just being a right idiot. He'll get over it eventually."

Hermione smiled at him, eyes shining, and Alexander coughed, breaking eye contact, before turning back to his essay.

Ron was still in a bad mood with Hermione the next day. He barely talked to her all through Herbology, even though they were working together on the same puffapod. Alexander, noticing how hesitant Hermione seemed, snapped at him to stop being such a stupid git, his voice sharp and full of irritation. He'd had enough of Ron's snarky comments throughout the lesson. Scabbers was fine now, wasn't he? So, what was the big deal? He'll throw a hex at Ron if he didn't shut up in the next minute about that rat. Ron looked as if he'd swallowed a bitter lemon by the end.

∞ ϟ 9¾

When Halloween morning arrived, Alexander was a bundle of nerves. He didn't know what to wear and spent a good amount of time staring at his hair in the mirror, wondering if it looked good. He didn't want to mess things up as it was his first proper date with someone he liked. It had to go well. Helen threw him a secret smile as he walked into the Great Hall, and he almost choked on his drink. Hermione frowned in concern, patting his back as he spluttered.

"I'm okay, don't worry," he reassured at her raised brow.

Fred and George gave twin smirks as they walked past and patted him on the shoulder. Alexander inhaled, his stomach churning. This was so nerve-wracking. Doubts circled in his mind against his will. What if she changed her mind and decided he wasn't good enough? What if he got there and Helen didn't show up? Millions of things could go wrong. So nervous was Alexander that he could only muster two bites of toast.

Harry was the only other person at the table who looked positively miserably as he listened to everyone around him chattering excitedly. He hadn't managed to get anyone to sign his form. Alexander sobered and rested a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Hey, it'll be okay," he said, watching as Harry attempted to smile and failed. "We'll bring some stuff for you, Harry."

Ron nodded through a mouthful of bacon. "Yeah, mate, we'll bring you loads of sweets, I promise."

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine," reassured Harry, a fake upbeat voice. "I'll see you at the feast. Have a good time."

Hermione looked desperately sorry for Harry and appeared as if she was going to say something, but Alexander grabbed her arm and shook his head. There was nothing they could do for Harry. As much as it probably sucked that Harry was going to be the only third-year left, Alexander couldn't help but feel a tiny bit relieved that he'll be safe and protected in the castle somewhat. It was horrible, he knew, but he'd rather have his friend miserable than dead at his feet at the hands of Sirius Black.

Alexander recalled the letter his grandfather sent him about Harry asking if he was keeping an eye on him. He wrote back yesterday after putting it off for a day or two and reassured him that Harry was safe in the castle and wasn't going to the village. It was rather a short letter on both ends. Guilt swam inside Alexander's body as if he were betraying his friend or something. He wasn't, right? He smiled weakly at Harry.

They went to the entrance hall, where Filch was standing inside the front doors, checking off names against a long list, peering suspiciously into every face, and making sure that no one was sneaking out who shouldn't be going.

"Staying here, Potter?" shouted Malfoy gleefully, who was standing in line with Crabbe and Goyle. "Scared of passing the dementors?"

Alexander scowled. Malfoy was all they needed at this moment. "Keep running your mouth, ferret-boy, and I'll give you a matching broken arm," he snapped, satisfied when Malfoy's face turned pale as he gulped.

"Alexander, no, ignore him," warned Hermione. "He just wants a rise out of Harry."

"It's fine," said Harry and threw them one last mild grin before turning his back to walk away. He didn't look back.

The three of them walked to Hogsmeade, concern for Harry still at the back of their minds. The weather was breezy enough to not be cold, but Alexander brought a jacket just in case it started raining.

"Are we there yet?" complained Ron, already out of breath. "We've been walking forever."

"It's been five minutes, Ron," laughed Alexander with his hands in his jacket pockets, catching how Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It feels like forever."

When they reached the outskirts of Hogsmeade, Alexander reminded them that he was meeting Helen soon. Before they broke off, Alexander promised to meet them at the Three Broomstick between three and four so they can walk back together.

"Oh, yeah, give her big snog then," teased Ron, and then laughed as Alexander made a rude gesture at him.

"Alexander!" snapped Hermione, noticing his motion.

She huffed and shook his head at him before turning towards the village and stomping hard enough for Alexander to hear her boots hitting the gravel. She didn't even say goodbye, he thought before shrugging. Ah, well. Ron waved goodbye at him and turned to catch up with her.

"Hey, Hermione," Ron called, quickening his pace. "Not so fast. Wait for me."

Hermione didn't turn her head as her bushy hair bounced against her back alongside the breeze, and Alexander heard their voices fade as they disappeared further and further away. He checked his watch, noticing that he was a tad early. That wouldn't be a good sign, he remembered the twins telling him. It'd show Helen that he was too eager, too desperate. That'll put a girl off instantly. You must keep her interested, echoed Fred's voice.

He walked forwards, knowing he had some time to kill and was wonderstruck at the sight. The village was much more different than any muggle town he'd visited. It felt as if it were stuck at another time. The buildings were older and most closely compact. It was beautiful, he had to admit.

Alexander stumbled as someone roughly barged past him while he started at a nearby shop selling everyday household magical items for a witch or wizard. He scowled rubbing his shoulder and noticed a tall man in a hooded cloak, face covered by his hood, marching off into the distance. The man quickly disappeared before he could sound his displeasure.

When it was time to meet Helen, he saw her in the distance as he approached, and his gaze narrowed on the stony look on her face as she was wrapped in a Slytherin scarf.

"Hi," he greeted with a smile which faded at her next words.

"Where have you been?" she asked, lips pressed together. "I've been waiting for more than half an hour. I almost thought you weren't coming."

"I. . ." began Alexander then paused. Aloof, remember? He shrugged. "I was on the way."

Helen looked at him for a moment then sighed. "Okay, well. . ." She plastered a smile as if batting away the awkward moment from her memory. "What do you want to do?"

"Anything. I don't care where we go."

"Oh, well, how about we get some tea? There's this really nice tea shop nearby I could show you."

"Sure, whatever."

He stuck to one-word answers. Way safer. And yet, Alexander saw how Helen's smile dimmed and her eyebrows furrowed. There was a gaping silence between them, and there was no Sullivan this time to patch up the holes.

The date itself was awkward. Alexander found himself wracking his brain for things to say but came up empty. Fred and George told him how to act but they said nothing about what he should say when they were together. What did people on dates talk about anyway? Their feelings? Now that was something he wouldn't like very much.

They stuck to school subjects mostly, which seemed like the safest bet.

"–and you know it's very helpful and informative being with Madam Pomfrey, she's taught me a lot and I'm grateful for it. Next year we're going to do more complex healing spells, can you believe it?"

Alexander nodded as he half-listened to Helen as she became more animated about becoming a Healer. He couldn't stop his leg from bouncing underneath the table. A sudden crash from the China plates meant that he knocked his knee under the table. Helen's eyes widened, her speech cut off mid-sentence as tea pooled in the middle.

"Sorry, so sorry," he said in a flustered tone, jumping up as the pain in his knee ached. "I didn't mean to."

"It's okay, don't worry," said Helen, waving off his attempts to apologise.

She didn't look upset at least which was a relief. A worker came over to erase the spillage with a wave of his wand. Alexander felt miserable as he sunk deeper into his chair. He'd ruined it, and Helen obviously wasn't having a good time. She stared down at the table as she fiddled with her thumbs. Some date this was turning out to be, he thought. He didn't even know how to make this fun for her. What if she hated him after this and never wanted to have anything to do with him? What if this got back to the school? Everyone would know and they'd laugh.

He groaned quietly. Everything was much simpler at the beginning of the year when they visited that café in Diagon Alley. It was more relaxed. He hadn't felt the need to fill the silence constantly, to have her attention on him. It'd just been an outing with a friend. But this. . .

"Why don't we walk around for a bit? Hogsmeade is lovely at this time of year," Helen suggested after a brief pause.

"Sounds good," he agreed, eager to get out of this stuffy shop. The tea fumes were making his face feel way too hot. Sweat beaded down the back of his neck.

Alexander snuck a glance at her after they paid and exited. Her cheeks were red from the slight cold and her eyes even more hazel than usual. He had to take control as the twins had reminded him. Take control and just kiss her. Girls love confident guys. As resolve settled in his bones, he stopped Helen suddenly by grabbing her arm.

"Alex, what –?" Her eyes lit up in surprise as he pulled her closer and leaned his face up towards her lips. "Woah."

She stepped back with widened eyes and Alexander merely caught air. They both froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. His heart dropped considerably. Shit. Oh, shit. He messed up, didn't he?

"I'm so sorry, I didn't – I didn't really – I hope you – I'm sorry," he stammered profusely, stepping back a large distance and refusing to make eye contact.

"Alex," she interjected softly then with more emphasis, cutting him off. She bit her lip and Alexander worried she was going to slap him. "It's okay. Just – warn a girl next time, okay?"

"You're not mad?" he asked, not able to believe it.

"No," she smiled. "Just very surprised."

Helen reached out with her hand towards him. Alexander took it in wonder as she pulled him closer until their breaths were intermingling. He hardly dared to blink and noticed the tiny freckles on her cheeks by being this close. Their lips were inching away, his heart seemed to beat faster. Her other hand settled on the back of his hair.

"You've been acting off since we met," she pointed out. "You need to relax."

"That's kind of hard to do right now if you haven't noticed," he muttered, his chest warming as she laughed.

She leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss against his lips. He stood in shocked silence for a mere second before tentatively matching her motions. It was. . . odd. Her perfume was overpowering and her lips soft. It didn't make him feel as warm and fuzzy as he thought it to be, but it did feel nice. Helen pulled back and beamed, rearranging the collar of his jacket.

"You're a good kisser, Alex," she hummed in a tone of surprise. "Much better than I thought you'd be."

He grinned. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

As Helen leaned in again, the hairs on the back of his neck rose. It wasn't the good kind either. Goosebumps appeared on his skin and his breath began to mist. It was unusually cold like it was on the train. He frowned and stepped back.

"Alex?" said Helen, raising an eyebrow at his action. "What's –"

"We need to get back," he urged with a rising panic in his voice, hand moving towards his wand.

"Back? What are you talking about? Alexander?"

He peered up and his heart trembled. A hooded figure circled above them and there was no mistaking it. Before Alexander could voice his alarm, his knees buckled. His senses had gone underwater, and he couldn't hear Helen anymore. But he could still see her. He watched her expression contort into fear and worry as she gripped his arm, mouthing something as she tried to pull him to his feet.

"Go," he uttered breathlessly, weakly motioning for Helen to run. But Helen didn't move, and her grip tightened while her eyes shimmered.

Distressed voices echoed in his ears and then came his grandfather's angry voice.

"If you get in the way, Amelie, I won't be held responsible. Do you hear me, child? Do not disgrace me any further. Think of your bastard son."

"It's because of him that I am. I know what you are. Your terror will end. Yours and his. I'll make sure of it."

Footsteps sounded closer until a shout rings out. Alexander inhaled deeply; the coldness disappeared but he still felt disorientated. The worried, unfamiliar face of a seventh-year peered down at him. Helen appeared shaken but mostly settled. She helped him to his feet. He avoided her eyes as they peered into the side of his face.

"Are you okay?" asked the older student.

He nodded wordlessly and removed his arm from Helen as if it'd burned him. Humiliation burned in his chest. It took one measly dementor to bring him to his knees and in front of the girl he liked no doubt.

The older student appeared hesitant but then shrugged. "Nasty creatures, those dementors. They're getting too bold," she said, shaking her head in disgust. "Anyway, I'd look to go buy some chocolate if I were you. They'll help I promise. I need to report this to the Professors."

Alexander ran a hand through his hair, messing up his neatly combed style. He could barely look at Helen, who was staring at him with a hesitant expression.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly after a moment's silence.

"Fine," he snapped without meaning to. "Why do you ask?"

He noticed her recoil and pulled her hand back to her side as if she was going to reach out to him. It made him feel worse. Great, now she felt pity for him.

"Oh. . ." she said in an undertone of hurt. "Well, I just thought to. . ."

"Yeah, well, you thought wrong. I'm fine, okay?" he insisted.

"Okay." A moment's pause. "Well, I'll – I'll speak to you later, Alex. I promised Nia that I'd meet her afterwards."

And she was gone. Alexander bit his lip hard and refused to look up from the ground until the sounds of her footsteps had faded completely. He shuffled and started to make his way towards the Three Broomsticks though his heart wasn't really in it. That must have been the worst date in the history of worst dates.

He arrived at the Three Broomsticks with no sign of Hermione and Ron in sight. The date had ended early. He sighed and grabbed an empty table near the corner with his butterbeer. The taste was almost enough to pull him out of the dejected mood. Almost.

"Alex, mate," said Ron, approaching with Hermione behind him. They looked curiously at him. "You're here already?"

"Mm," nodded Alexander, peering up and wiping his upper lip.

"Do you think we can order food or something?" asked Ron with a longing look towards the bar.

"Ron, we'll be eating at the feast soon," warned Hermione.

Ron groaned and crossed his arms. Alexander chuckled weakly.

"What's wrong? You don't look very happy," Hermione told him, removing her coat and scarf as she sat opposite him.

Alexander related the dismal events of his first date with Helen. When he finished, he sighed deeply and sunk lower in his chair. Ron gave a low whistle and grimaced.

"Ah, that's rotten luck, mate," he said and reached out to pat his shoulder. "Lighten up, it might not be the end of the world. I'm sure she wouldn't say no to a second date."

"I literally did everything to drive her away," said Alexander, shaking his head. "I'll be lucky if she even looks at me again."

Hermione appeared worried as she bit her bottom lip. "These dementors are everywhere. Ron and I spotted one near a shop, but we luckily didn't get close enough."

"Still felt cold though," Ron shuddered at the memory. "Nasty, miserable creatures."

"You're alright, aren't you, Alexander?" asked Hermione, leaning to catch his eye and placing a hand on his.

"I'm alright now, I guess. Just a bit of a shock that's all," he admitted as her brown eyes bore into his.

Hermione nodded and dug into her jacket pocket a second later. She pulled out a bright purple bar with Honeydukes written in green on the front. She opened the crinkling wrapper and placed it into Alexander's hand.

"Here," she offered in a tone that brokered no argument. "I bought this from Honeydukes, but you need it more than I do right now."

Alexander stared at her, knowing it was bought with her own money and she'd been looking forward to trying the sweets from Hogsmeade.

"Are you sure? You don't have to," he protested.

Hermione shrugged. "It's only chocolate and besides, I can always go again. This will make you feel better."

Ron snorted in response. Alexander, however, felt as warm as a cup of hot chocolate and an uncontrollable smile pulled at his lips. He takes the chocolate bar and splits it in half before offering Hermione the bigger piece. She was right, it did make him feel better.

"Whose advice did you take anyway?" asked Hermione with a raised eyebrow.

"Fred and George," he confessed.

Ron shook his head. "Aw, no, that was a mistake."

"Ronald's right, Alexander," reproached Hermione with a small frown. "Their advice never bodes well. You should have been more engaged with Helen and showed you liked being with her. She probably thinks you didn't want to be there."

Alexander groaned and smacked his head against the headrest. This was the last time he took advice from those two. Never again. He sipped his mug and glanced as Hermione laughed at him suddenly.

"Oh, Alex, no – you've got froth on your face," she giggled. She picked up a napkin and leaned over the table. "Hold still, don't move."

Alexander squirmed as she grabbed hold of his chin and tilted his head up. She began dabbing gently. His breath hitched as noticed how light her eyes looked with the glare of the fireplace embers dancing on them. He gulped and his adam's apple bobbed slightly. He had a sudden urge to lurch closer and yank himself away at the same time. It was confusing. Her vanilla shampoo and the scent of wafting butterbeer were making him lightheaded.

"There," she whispered. "All clean."

Alexander ignored the tightening of his stomach muscles and the light tingle that settled in his lower area. He cleared his throat.

"Thank you."

A tiny, shy smile crept on Hermione's face. It didn't last, however, as Ron decided to interrupt with a loud, audible burp that caused the table nearest them to throw them looks. Hermione shot Ron a disgusted glare.

"Urgh, Ronald!" Hermione exclaimed.

"What?" frowned Ron, bewildered.

Alexander laughed. He was a tad grateful for Ron's interruption. He wondered at how comfortable it felt to be in Hermione and Ron's presence than he ever did with Helen in that stuffy tea shop. He didn't have to constantly overthink about making a fool of himself. Alexander laughed and chatted and found on the walk back that his dismal date hadn't crossed his mind at all.

When they went back to Hogwarts, they met Harry, who appeared glum. Ron and Hermione dumped their sweets into his lap and raved about Hogsmeade. Alexander crept up and handed over a small souvenir to Harry.

"How was your date?" asked Harry after they'd finished.

"Could have been better," shrugged Alexander and Harry frowned.

Impressing girls was a stressful thing and he didn't understand how people did it. He related his story to Harry, who in turn told them how his day with Lupin had gone.

When they entered the Great Hall, Alexander scanned the tables; he spotted Helen talking with a group of people, not having noticed him come in. He sighed sadly for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Hermione grabbed his arm and lead him to the Gryffindor table without looking at him. The feast was great as always with everyone digging into second helpings.

Alexander walked towards the usual path to Gryffindor Tower with the rest of the crowd, his eyes dropping. He just about felt ready to collapse into his bed after an eventful day. He lost his friends up ahead and knew he'd see them in the common room soon.

A burst of giggles sounded near him, and he glanced towards the side to see Lavender and Parvati. Their giggling increased as he caught their eye. He frowned, not seeing what was funny. Girls could be so weird sometimes, he thought.

When he reached the corridor that ended with the portrait of the Fat Lady, it was jammed with students.

"What's going on?" asked someone nearby but no one answered.

Alexander scowled wishing the people up ahead would hurry up.

"Let me through, please," came Percy's voice, and he came bustling importantly through the crowd. Then in a sharp voice, "Somebody gets Professor Dumbledore. Quick."

Alexander felt wide awake as a cold chill went through his body. His gut instincts were never wrong, not at Hogwarts he'd come to discover. He pushed through the crowd and when he was close enough, he saw that the Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor; great chunks of it had been torn away completely. His mouth fell open as people gasped in horror. Dumbledore had chosen to arrive just then.

Peeves teased them with a twisted delight. "You'll be lucky!" he cackled.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" questioned Dumbledore calmly, and Peeves' grin faded a little.

"Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he said happily.

"Did she say who did it?" said Dumbledore quietly.

"Oh yes, Professorhead," nodded Peeves. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see." Peeves flipped over and grinned at Dumbledore from between his legs. "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."

Alexander's heart dropped. He never thought that Black would have the nerve. He peered around in a panic. Harry. Where's Harry? He gripped his wand and pushed through the throng and noticed a messy head of hair towards the front. He had to stick closely to Harry now that Black was bold enough to enter the castle. Black would have to go through him to get to Harry.

December 21st, 1976

Our detentions are now over. I kind of miss it if I'm being honest. It was the only time I could stand to be in Prince's presence. To be close to him, away from the eyes of everyone else. I'm also confused and it's freaking me out!

I mean sure Prince is hot, and I'd love to touch him and kiss him and everything. But it's more than that. I miss his voice. There I said it. The deep, gravelly baritone that I've become familiar with than I ever thought to. His voice is deeper than his older brother's which is peculiar seeing as Prince is the younger one. And he's taller too. When I hear it, it makes my insides melt and my mind all fuzzy.

And his eyes. His eyes are beautiful and uncommon, which sort of suits him. It's this greyish-blue kind of one that makes it hard to look away from.

I forgot to say but Yaz almost caught me staring at him from across the Great Hall. I quickly had to make an excuse but thankfully she bought it. Well, I think.

It's been a long time I know, but I'm back with another chapter. This one was a right pain to write and edit for some reason. But as always, let me know how it was.