Over the coming days Bella preferred to act as though nothing had happened between us. Perhaps she thought my love of flying was only temporary, something I would grow out of if she gave it no attention. Or perhaps she was simply too busy to give me much thought; she did, after all, have a lot on her plate, what with her role as ringleader of the Slytherin gang, her endless hours spent alone with Rodolphus, and, as I came to notice, her habit of sneaking out every second or third night, to Merlin only knew where. Not to mention her NEWTs.

I woke up at dawn Saturday morning, my whole body tingling with excitement. I had seen Leo and Bletchley having a heated conversation at dinner the night before, and I knew it would be about the Quidditch team. It was only a matter of time now until the team sheets were released.

The rest of my dorm-mates were still asleep as I dressed hurriedly and crept out into the common room. When I glanced at the noticeboard and saw the new scroll of parchment that had not been there when I went to bed my heart gave a nervous twist and leapt into my throat. I hurried forward, eyes straining to pick up the words.

SLYTHERIN QUIDDITCH TEAM

Keeper: Sebastian Bletchley (Captain)

Seeker: Leonardo Avery

Beaters: Vincent Crabbe, Sanders Goyle

Chasers: Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy

Reserves: Quade Mulciber, Hadrian Flint, Andromeda Black

I read it through once, twice, and then a third time. Comprehension swept slowly through my excitement-fogged brain, and I felt my heart sink from its position in my throat to pool somewhere around my toes. I had not been selected. The team had not been changed. Rabastan had held his spot. I had not been selected.

I turned abruptly and sank into the nearest armchair, closing my eyes against a wave of dizziness. My gut churned, first with disbelief, then shock and, finally, anger. I had been good enough. I had flown well. I deserved to be picked.

Ah, but did you? whispered a voice inside my head. Self-doubt clawed at me, and I began to rethink my performance at try-outs. Perhaps my passes had not been as pin-point as I had thought them to be… perhaps getting it past Bletchley was no big deal; perhaps the others had done it as well when I had not been paying attention… I was stupid to have gotten so excited, stupid to have believed –

There was a noise near the entrance to the boy's dormitory, and I glanced up to see a shadowy figure standing there. Not wanting to be caught in my current position I darted up and made a dash for my own door; but as I passed across the room a beam of light from the lake window must have caught my face, and the boy gave a jerk of recognition.

"Andy?"

It was Leo. I ground to a halt, half wanting to run away, half to confront him. I clenched my jaw and stared at him in silence.

His eyes darted between me and the team sheet still pinned to the noticeboard, and I thought he looked a little abashed. "Guess you… guess you saw the teams then," he mumbled. "I was hoping to catch you actually. I, um…" he stepped closer and dropped his voice to a murmur. "Listen, about not being selected – "

"It's fine," I said in a horrible, high-pitched voice that didn't belong to me. "I wasn't good enough. I get it."

"No no, that's just it," Leo continued in a hurried whisper, glancing at the entrance to the boy's dormitory to ensure they were still alone. "You were good. Brilliant, actually. Listen, if we were choosing the team on merit, you'd be in every day of the week, and twice on Sundays."

I waited for him to go on, though I thought I knew what was coming next. Even in the dim pre-dawn light I could see Leo's blush.

"But listen, you know… I mean, Bletchley's dad… he works for Romulus Lestrange, and – well – it wouldn't exactly go down well with Rodolphus either if his little brother got replaced and…" he trailed off.

"So what you're saying," I said coolly. "Is that Bletchley is afraid of upsetting the Lestranges by kicking Rabastan off the team, and so I can't be selected?"

Leo nodded rapidly, as though pleased I had cottoned on so quickly. "Yeah, pretty much. Look I know it sucks, but next year – "

I span on my heel and stalked off, not even bothering to listen to what he had to say. I wasn't sure whether his words made me feel more or less angry, but I did know that I needed to be alone right then. Back in my room, I grabbed my broom from my trunk and marched out again into the common room, ignoring Leo's exclamation of surprise and his attempts to draw me back into conversation. I took the dungeon stairs two at a time and, with broom in hand, made my way across the entrance hall, out of the castle, and onto the chilly grounds.

After an hour or so of flight, my mood was still not improved, but at least the exertion had got my blood pumping and given my lungs some much needed fresh air. I was beginning to feel stifled in the Slytherin common room, where once I had enjoyed myself so much. I wasn't sure whether it was me that was changing or my housemates, but I seemed to be drifting away from them more and more, and I wasn't sure what to do about it, or if I even cared. I didn't stop flying until the sun was high in the sky. When my feet hit the ground again it felt like a weight had settled in my stomach. I was not in the Quidditch team. I had not been good enough to make it.

Thankfully, there were still not many people awake when I returned to the common room, it being a Saturday and a rare chance for students to sleep in. I crept back into my dorm room and replaced my broom. The only curtains open were Annabelle's; she gave me a strange look but didn't comment on my early morning activities, perhaps aware that there might be listening ears nearby.

"What are you doing today?" she asked me as I settled back onto my mattress.

I shrugged. "Nothing much. Homework and more homework, probably."

She shot me a sly grin. "That sounds dull. How about you come to Hogsmeade with me instead. I'm meeting my older brother."

Annabelle's older brother just happened to be extremely good-looking. I laughed. "I suppose the homework can wait."

"Good. I thought you'd come to your senses."

The next time Ted and I had patrol, I shared the news of my non-selection with him. His reaction made me almost wish I hadn't.

"What?"

"Will you keep your voice down!"

"But that's ridiculous!"

"It's really – "

"Lestrange couldn't fly through a camel's arse!"

I stared at him in horror. "What?"

"It's an expression," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "I can't believe you weren't selected!"

"Believe me, I can," I said dryly. After a few days of letting the situation sink in I had come to the reasonable conclusion that the whole outcome had been inevitable from the start, and the only stupid person involved was myself for thinking that talent or skill would trump the galleons in Rabastan's father's pockets.

"It's an outrage, is what it is," Ted muttered. He looked genuinely upset, which I couldn't understand. Surely it made no difference to him who was on the Slytherin team? If anything, it gave his own house a slight advantage if Rabastan was kept on as Chaser. "You should complain."

"To who?" I asked.

"I don't know. Slughorn – isn't he your Head of House?"

"Slughorn is best friends with Romulus Lestrange," I said, flicking up the tapestry of a three headed dog to check the hidden stairwell it concealed was clear of students. "I think they went to school together."

Ted made a derisive sound and muttered something that sounded like 'pigs in the trough.'

"It's really no big deal," I said as we continued down the corridor. "I mean, it was just a stupid – "

Ted shook his head angrily. "It is a big deal," he argued. "I saw you fly – you were great, probably the best out there. You deserve to be on that team."

"Yeah, well…" I petered off lamely. I was regretting telling him now. Having almost come to terms with the fact that I wouldn't be playing Quidditch that year, his words seemed to be opening up the wound all over again.

"So that's it then?"

I glanced at him, and saw that his normally pleasant face was knitted in a frown. "What do you mean?" I asked.

He raked a hand through his hair. "I mean, you're just going to give up?"

We had reached the clock-tower entrance. I gave it a quick inspection, using the time to frame my answer. "What else can I do? Bletchley's the captain, he picks the team. I can hardly argue with him about his choices, can I?"

"When it's such a blatant form of corruption, I would."

"It's not that blatant," I said reasonably. "It's not like Rabastan doesn't know how to hold a broom."

"Close enough," grumbled Ted.

I laughed, then felt somewhat guilty. For all his faults Rabastan was still a pureblood. Enjoying the taunts of a Muggle-born against him was probably taking it a little far.

"Besides," I said to cover my thoughts, "I don't see why you're complaining. Surely if I'm a better flier than Rabastan it suits you to keep me out of the team."

Ted gave me a strange look. "I was looking forward to flying against you," he said casually. "You'd be good competition." His brows lifted as though something had just occurred to him. "Hey, maybe we could fly together some time, out on the pitch? It wouldn't be a full game, but it'd be better than nothing."

I opened my mouth to agree before my sister's face swam in my vision and I promptly closed it again. "I don't think that would be a very good idea," I said instead.

Ted was busy checking an empty classroom. When he turned back to me, his face was wearing a somewhat too-knowing smile. "Avery wouldn't like it," he said.

"It's got nothing to do with Leo," I snapped, and his eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Alright then, if you say so."

I scowled and headed off down the corridor. The truth was that I quite enjoyed the idea of flying with Tonks; and then I felt guilty for thinking that; and then I wondered whether I should feel guilty… and then I thought maybe I should feel guilty for wondering whether I should feel guilty… and round and round in circles until I no longer even knew what I was supposed to be feeling guilty for at all…

Ted ambled along behind me, occasionally checking the many rooms that lined this particular corridor for signs of life. It was not unknown for the students of Hogwarts to sneak out after curfew and organise sojourns and rendezvous in classrooms they thought would never be looked in. I had never done it myself, but then I didn't have any friends from the other houses.

This thought brought something to mind. "Hey, do you know Dorcas Meadowes?" I asked Ted.

"Yeah," he said. "Why?"

I shrugged, though he wasn't looking at me. "No real reason. What's she like?"

"Umm," Ted scratched his chin with the end of his wand, which he had taken out to prod the secret door that liked to disguise itself as a wall. "I don't know, nice?"

"Wow, that's insightful," I drawled.

"Oh, you want more?" I saw Ted's teeth flash white as he grinned at me. "Well, let's see… she's smart, she's best friends with Frank's girl, she's good at Quidditch, umm… I think she likes Yorkshire pudding, cause she ordered it one time when we were in Hogsmeade, God knows why. Oh, and her mum owns a book shop in Diagon Alley. How's that?"

I hesitated. "What's her blood status?"

I thought I saw him stiffen, but the moment was over too quickly for me to be sure, and then he was asking casually, "Does it matter?"

My footsteps seemed unnaturally loud in the silence that followed his words. "Yes." I think so. Maybe. I don't know.

"I think she's a half-blood," answered Ted. "Don't know for sure though. Never thought to ask."

With the amount of work we now had as fifth-years, term seemed to be flying by. I told myself I was glad I had not been selected in the Quidditch team, as training sessions three times a week on top of what I was already doing seemed nigh impossible. Still, I thought I would have taken all the extra work just to wipe the smug look off of Rabastan's face.

"It's alright, Andy," he smirked as he sat himself next to me in the corner of the common room, where I was struggling through my Herbology essay. "Nobody expected you to get on the team anyway, so it's not like you've really embarrassed yourself."

I ignored him with an effort, focusing on the textbook open on my lap. The finest Shrivelfig specimens are found in Abyssinia…

"Of course, you're reserve, so if anything were to happen to me, I suppose you could get a call-up," Rabastan prattled on. "Not that that's likely."

Shrivelfig's must always be peeled prior to their use in potion-making, as their skins are tough and acerbic …

"I might even help you get better, if you want. I could show you some tips, give you pointers… you might even have a chance next year, if you practise really hard."

My quill was in danger of snapping. I blinked to try and clear my vision. Shrivelfig leaves have many magical properties. They are used as an ingredient in both Shrinking Solutions and Elixirs to Induce Euphoria…

"You really shouldn't be so upset. I mean, when you think about it it's for the best. Can you imagine if – "

I slammed my book shut, cutting off his words. Without looking at him I stuffed my things into my bag and stood up. I would just have to study in the library, if I couldn't get any peace here…

I knew Rabastan was going to follow me. Striding over to Leo, who was lounging in front of the fire playing with a small golden Snitch, I bent and whispered quickly in his ear, "Distract Rabastan for a bit."

"But – "

My glare must have been fierce enough for him to get the message, as he snapped his mouth shut after a glance at my face. "You owe me Leo," I hissed. "Keep him off my back for a while."

I strode off again. When I reached the common room door I heard Leo ask casually, "Fancy a game of wizarding chess Lestrange?" and I smirked. At least I was getting something out of this charade of a relationship I was keeping up.

My plan was to continue studying in the library. When I got there, however, I found my way barred by the librarian, a thin, irritable woman named Madam Panox.

"The library is closed," she intoned, peering down at me over her long, crooked nose.

I blinked at her. "Closed?"

"Yes. Closed."

"But – why?"

She glared at me, as though suspicious of my enquiries. "For re-cataloguing," she said.

This was the first time in five years that I had heard of such a thing. "Re-cataloguing?" I repeated stupidly. "Shouldn't that… I mean, surely it shouldn't take longer than five minutes or so?" I looked past her shoulder, but the doors were closed. "Don't you just wave your wand and… um," I broke off at the look on her face.

Madam Panox's eyes narrowed even further, so that she looked very much like an overgrown bird of prey. "Miss Black," she began in a repressive voice. "Re-cataloguing of a library this size is a momentous task, that must be undertaken with the most sensitive, meticulous planning, involving many hours of detailed note-taking, careful scrutinising of the records, delicate consideration of the multi-faceted categorisation system which this library employs… and this task is not made any easier by the careless disrespect shown to Hogwarts' literary volume by the students of this establishment. Why I – "

I backed away with my hands up. "Okay, okay, the library's closed, I get it. When will it re-open?"

"Tomorrow, perhaps," she informed me curtly. "That is, if I am allowed to work without constant interruption." And she turned and stalked back into the library, closing the door behind her with a snap.

I scowled at the spot where she had been, but there was nothing for it. Outside, it had been raining, but the clouds seemed to have thinned and there was a weak sun shining on the ground now. Sighing, I adjusted my grip on my bag and trudged down the stairs towards the entrance hall.

Clearly I had not been the only person turned away by Madam Panox that day. The grounds were littered with various groups of students, many of whom I recognised as regulars in the library. The spot where I had planned to sit, underneath the beech tree beside the lake, was already taken; so too, was my next favourite spot just past the greenhouses. I hesitated, and had just decided that there was nothing for it but to slink back to my dormitory, when I heard a voice behind me calling my name.

"Andy! Hey Andy!"

I turned, and saw Dorcas Meadowes and a few of her friends lounging in the shade of an old oak tree, their books spread out about them on the grass. Dorcas waved at me with a smile.

"Come here," she said, gesturing to the spot next to her, and against my better judgement I found myself walking over.

"Hi," I said awkwardly. Dorcas may have been smiling, but the rest of her group were staring at me with varying degrees of hostility. I recognised Alice Taylor, a round-faced Gryffindor girl, and Emmeline Vance, the Ravenclaw Prefect. Besides her was a redheaded girl I did not know, and a very pretty girl whose name I thought might have been Marlene.

"Do you want to sit down?" asked Dorcas. "We're about to start on our Herbology essays."

"Um," I gnawed my bottom lip, conflicted. I knew it wasn't considered appropriate for Slytherins to mingle with the students of other houses. It was one of the few things my parents had expressly warned me against. And I knew if word got back to my sister it would put another dent in our already strained relationship. But looking at the five girls in front of me, I recognised from the expressions on their faces that refusal was exactly what they were expecting. The redheaded girl had her arms crossed and looked as though she was only waiting for the moment when I would walk away to start gossiping about me. "Sure," I said, casting a quick-dry spell on the grass and dropping my bag, trying to ignore the barely concealed surprise of everyone except Dorcas. Her friends seemed less than pleased by my decision.

"This is Alice," Dorcas said, pointing to the round-faced girl, who reached out to shake my hand. "And Emmeline, I think you know her, she's a Ravenclaw Prefect?" Emmeline gave me a tight-lipped smile. "And this is Marlene McKinnon," the pretty blonde girl didn't even offer a smile. "And Charlotte Weasley."

Another Weasley. That explained the red hair and the hostility radiating from her in waves. "Hi," I said woodenly. They were all staring at me as though expecting me to spontaneously combust at any moment.

"So – so I hear you like Quidditch," said Alice in a blatant attempt to kick-start a conversation, because the silence between us was growing strained.

I shrugged. "Yeah, a bit."

"Did you – um, have you made it on to the Slytherin team?"

I glanced sharply at Alice, trying to determine whether she was mocking me or not. But her blue eyes were wide and innocent, and I didn't think she was the sort to be that underhanded. "No," I said, rather bluntly. "I didn't get in."

Alice flushed, as though realising she may have put her foot in it. "Oh, I'm – I'm sorry to hear that. I didn't – I mean I thought – " she glanced helplessly at Dorcas.

"I thought for sure you'd get in," Dorcas said with a small frown. "I heard you're a really good flier."

I pulled at a blade of grass, not meeting her gaze. I could feel the Weasley girl burning holes in the top of my head. "Yeah, well…"

"What plant has Beery assigned you?" asked Emmeline. I seized on the change of topic gratefully.

"Shrivelfig," I said, holding up my textbook rather glumly. "But I feel like I've already written everything I know about it, and I'm still three inches short."

"You've already written a whole foot?" yelped Alice in panic. She began frantically pulling things out of her bag, and in her rush knocked over the ink-well that was resting next to her. "Oh, sorry Marlene!"

"Don't worry about it," said Marlene in a tone of long-suffering. She waved her wand and the mess vanished. "You think Shrivelfigs are bad," she said to me suddenly. "I've got Bubotubers."

I wrinkled my nose. Part of the essay's requirement was to carefully study a living specimen of the plant we were writing about, monitoring its growth over a certain period. I did not fancy having to return to Greenhouse Three and Professor Beery's store of Bubotuber pus every lesson.

We began to work, bouncing ideas off one another, comparing notes and swapping textbooks (Alice had a particularly useful one for shrivelfigs). Our conversation drifted from the educational ("do you think discussing the way dragon dung versus other fertilisers impacts bubotuber growth counts as 'plant properties?'") to the less so ("did you hear about Lucinda Jones? Her boyfriend caught her snogging Martin McGregor in the boathouse yesterday!"), and I was having such a good time that I was surprised to look at my watch sometime later and find that it had been nearly two hours since I left the Slytherin common room.

The talk had quieted somewhat as we worked furiously on our essays. I had polished mine off, and was now doing some extra reading on shrivelfigs when Marlene threw her parchment away from her in a tone of disgust and lay back against the grass. "I can't study anymore!" she declared, stretching out her long legs and closing her eyes. "Have you started planning the Christmas ball yet Dorc?"

"Not yet," said Dorcas, still staring intently down at her own parchment. "But I imagine it won't be much longer."

"Ugh, I can't wait," Marlene sighed. "Do you think you'll go with Frank, Alice?"

I saw Alice's eyes flutter, and a pink blush spread across her features. "He – he hasn't asked me…" she began.

"Oh please," snorted Marlene. "If you're not the first person with a date then I'll eat my wand. Frank totally fancies you."

"You don't know that," said Alice, but I could see the smile that had formed on her face at her friend's words.

"What about you Marlene?" asked Emmeline, with a sly glance at her friend. "Benjy mentioned anything about ball-gowns and dancing partners yet?"

Marlene scowled. It did little to diminish her attractiveness. "Benjy wouldn't know what a ball-gown was if one flew up and strangled him in his sleep," she said, before slapping the ground all at once. "That boy is such a prick! You'd think – knowing just how many guys would kill to take me as their date – that he'd at least have the decency to mention it to me. But no! It doesn't matter how many hints I drop, the git is as oblivious as a bludger!"

From her position on the grass Charlotte Weasley groaned. "Merlin Marlene, give it a rest, would you? Nobody cares about your ridiculous relationship with Benjy Fenwick!"

"Emmeline asked me – "

"Well none of the rest of us care," corrected Charlotte. "Just… let's just change the topic."

Marlene pouted. "Fine. Whatever. Who're you taking, Andromeda?"

It took me a moment to realise she was directing the question at me. "Oh, um, I guess…" I hadn't even thought about the Christmas ball, there had been so many other things taking my attention. "I'm not really sure."

"Surely you'd take your boyfriend," said Charlotte coldly. She had her eyes closed but I thought her eyebrows had drawn together into a frown. Of all the girls she had been the only one not to warm to me.

The others were all staring at me. "Oh, Leo?" I said with an attempt at a laugh."Um, yeah, I guess, I don't know – we haven't really discussed it yet."

"You two have been going out for a long time," remarked Alice.

I shrugged. I didn't want to talk about my (non)relationship with Leo. "So – so how about you, Dorcas? Do you have a date?"

To my surprise Dorcas didn't smile, nor did her friends. If anything, their expressions became rather defiant. "Actually I don't think I'll take anyone," said Dorcas steadily.

"Oh," I said, swallowing my own desire to ask why. It wasn't any of my business. Dorcas must have read the curiosity on my face, however, for she answered without any prompting.

"Yeah, I already like a guy back home," she said.

Her words didn't quite make sense to me. "Back… home," I repeated.

"In London," she said.

I shook my head, noticing as I did so that all the girls were watching me rather intently. "Why – why doesn't he come to Hogwarts?" I asked, before an explanation occurred to me. "Is he a lot older than you?"

Dorcas smiled, but I thought the motion didn't quite reach her eyes. "No. No he's the same age as me."

"But then – "

"He's a Muggle," Dorcas said simply. "He goes to a local Muggle high-school. That's why he doesn't come to Hogwarts."

I gaped at her. Questions exploded in my mind like fireworks, but I found myself incapable of actually forming the words. Dating a Muggle? I couldn't even begin to imagine –

"Is that a problem?" demanded Charlotte Weasley, sitting up and glaring at me. Her eyes flashed and her voice was rough with challenge.

"Leave it Char," said Dorcas before I could speak. "It's alright."

"It's not alright!" said Charlotte, tossing her red hair. "She sits there like – like – like she has any right to judge you! The problem is her kind, not us. You're not doing anything wrong!"

Her words washed over me like poison. Red misted in my vision, and I began to shove things haphazardly back into my bag. "I think I should go," I said as calmly as I could manage, getting to my feet. "I'm sorry – "

"Andy – "

"You never apologised to Sarah, did you?" Charlotte burst out. She was sitting straight-backed, staring at me accusingly. Perhaps it was the wild mess of hair around her face, or the anger shining in her eyes, but I was reminded rather forcibly of Bella. "After your little buddies attacked her just cause you decided you didn't like her."

"Charlotte!" Dorcas glared at her friend.

"Well it's true," Charlotte threw back.

"That was three years ago," said Alice reasonably.

"Yeah, well Sarah's still got the mark, hasn't she? They couldn't get rid of it."

I had figured out who they were talking about, but Salazar be damned if I was going to stand there taking lip from a Weasley girl. Without another word I span on my heel and stalked off, walking as quickly as I could back up the path to the castle. My feet pounded across the flagstone floor, down the dungeon stairs and into the Slytherin common room before I felt that I had even taken a breath.

Rabastan and Leo were sitting before the fire, the remnants of their chess game spread out between them. "What happened to you?" demanded Rabastan as soon as he caught sight of me. "You look like you've been – "

I rounded on him with a snarl. "Leave. Me. Alone," I hissed, enunciating each word and gaining a small modicum of satisfaction from the way his eyes widened in response. Then I stalked past him into the girls' dormitory and slammed the door behind me.

I ignored Dorcas and her friends over the coming days. It wasn't difficult, as I had never had much to do with them to begin with. I simply stuck with my Slytherin friends and pretended that the other houses didn't exist.

The hardest part was in Prefect meetings, which both Dorcas and Emmeline attended. I knew Dorcas was trying to catch my eye, but I resolutely avoided her gaze, entering and leaving with Leo and the other Slytherin Prefects to ensure she couldn't get me alone. Perhaps it was a little childish of me, but I wasn't in the mood for reconciliatory talks right then. It had been a mistake to ever get that friendly with a Gryffindor to begin with, and I told myself that the argument with Charlotte Weasley was for the best.

As it grew nearer to winter, the subject of the Christmas ball was raised by the Head Boy and Girl.

"You'll help with the decorations and the set-up in the great hall," Molly informed us one night. "And, along with Arthur and I, you'll open the dancing. So make sure you all choose partners who won't tread on your toes."

There was a murmur of laughter, but I didn't join in. I was putting off the moment when I had to have 'the talk' with Leo about our charade relationship; he seemed quite happy to avoid it too, which didn't make it any easier. But I refused to continue it into the New Year. Maybe I would set Christmas as our deadline?

"We expect you all to remain responsible during the festivities," Weasley went on. "That means no punch spiking, no hip-flasks, and no sneaking off out onto the grounds. And we expect you to be alert to irresponsible behaviour by other students, and respond to it promptly."

"We all want this ball to go off without a hitch," said Molly. "So if everyone could keep this spirit of co-operation and friendliness in mind, that would be great." I thought her eyes lingered on the Slytherins as she spoke, and felt my lip lift in an unconscious sneer. "Okay, so if nobody has any questions?"

"What sort of music are we organising for the ball?" asked Emily Howard.

Arthur and Molly shared a smug glance. "That's a secret we'll be sharing with you at a later date," she said mysteriously.

"What if we don't have a date?" asked one of the sixth year Ravenclaw Prefects, who I recognised as Lucinda Jones. I smirked.

Leo nudged me as Weasley launched into a reply. "Will you be my date?" he asked in an undertone. His lips were close enough that I could feel the heat of his breath on my ear. To anyone watching us, it would no doubt have looked quite romantic. But I was only annoyed.

"What would you do if I said no?" I muttered.

He shrugged. "Ask someone else, I guess," he said. "Helena would go with me."

I looked at him, aghast. "Seriously Leo, Helena?"

"Helena's alright," he responded without smiling.

"But – "

"What do you expect me to do?" he demanded, still keeping his voice to a whisper. "Just announce to the world that I'm gay and take Seb as my date?"

"If it's the truth, then yes," I shot back.

"It's not that easy Andy."

"Well what do you expect me to do," I countered, using his own words against him. "Just continue acting like you're my boyfriend when I know you're not? At the same time ruining any chance I have of actually getting a real boyfriend?"

Leo took a deep breath, and I knew he was preparing his trump card. "If you don't go with me, Rabastan will ask you," he said.

My stomach clenched, because I knew he was right. "Whatever," I said, turning back to the front and noticing that everyone else was starting to pack up. Apparently the meeting was finished.

"Is that a yes, then?"

"Rack off, Leo."

"Alright."

I took my time collecting my things, not wanting to walk with Leo back to the common room. I had forgotten about Dorcas and my efforts to avoid her, until I heard someone clear their throat right behind me.

"Hi," she said simply.

My gaze drifted over her shoulder, and I saw Ted standing in the doorway watching me. I gave him the fiercest glare I could muster, and he grinned apologetically and ducked out. Dorcas turned to see what I was staring at, but he was already gone.

"Hi," I said, picking up my bag and moving toward the door.

"Listen Andy, I wanted to say sorry – "

"You don't have anything to be sorry for."

"Charlotte shouldn't have – "

"I really don't care," I said, cutting her off. We had reached the door now, but I lingered inside, not wanting to take our conversation out into the corridor. There was only Weasley and Prewett left in the room, and they were engrossed in one another and not paying any attention to us. But there might be Slytherins outside.

"Well, I wanted to apologise anyway, and let you know that you're always welcome to study with us again."

"That's fine," I said without looking at her. "I've got lots on my plate, and it's probably for the best anyway. But… thanks."

Dorcas didn't say anything for a moment, and when she spoke I thought she sounded a little disappointed. "That's okay. Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me."

I nodded, and she left. I waited a few seconds before following her out, turning in the opposite direction.