A Not-So-Fun Halloween

Late October 1996

Alicia was exhausted. It wasn't just the overwhelming coursework for the Healer program now, but the fact that she was at St. Mungo's every single afternoon after classes and usually at least twice on the weekends with Angelina, visiting Katie. Unconscious Katie, who was completely still and looked like death preserved. It was eerie and terrifying. Most of the other Healers told her it was pointless to sit by Katie's bedside and talk to her, because Katie likely couldn't hear her. However, one Healer encouraged her, and Alicia clung to that.

"You never know, dear," the older Vivian Bampfylde had said pleasantly, about two weeks after Katie arrived. "Maybe she does hear your voice. We think we know a lot about these sorts of things, but some curses are just so incredibly unusual that we Healers simply have to go about it by trial and error. I hope she wakes up, I really do. You let me know if you need me."

Alicia had to admit though, it did seem a little pointless some nights, randomly rambling on about how difficult the Healer program was, how she was always tired, if they'd gone out for drinks with the twins and Lee, or whatever other thing had happened that day. She never mentioned the war if she could help it. But she may as well have been talking to the wall for all the good it seemed to do.

Yet, Alicia kept on, just in case it was making a difference.

Some evenings, Alicia would arrive and Oliver would be there, having Apparated from Puddlemere to London. He went at least once a day if his schedule allowed it. Alicia had stepped inside the ward several times to find him hunched over in a chair next to Katie's bed, staring at her face as though he could make her wake up by sheer willpower. Sometimes he'd be holding Katie's smaller hand awkwardly in his own, tracing his thumb over hers, and Alicia would shiver as she remembered Pucey doing that to her a time or two.

Alicia always hugged Oliver and asked him how he was holding up, but his eyes said it all: he was so terrified of losing Katie that he barely knew what to do. He'd never told her how he felt. Regret was always hanging over him.

Even the twins and Lee had stopped by a few times to see Katie, bringing flowers to brighten her corner. Alicia was grateful for that. It was nice to see a bit of color around Katie's bed, and she knew Katie's parents appreciated it. They were having a very hard time of the whole thing, not quite understanding the magical world or why their daughter was lying in a coma in a bed at St. Mungo's when she should have been enjoying her final year at Hogwarts.

Alicia wished she could offer them words of comfort. But the reality was, she had no idea what to say to them or Oliver — or even to herself. She just wanted her friend back, safe and whole and alive and vibrant again, and she hated the not knowing and the waiting. She was supposed to be learning how to help cases just like this, but she had no idea what to do. Many nights, she went to sleep with a few tears slipping through, because Alicia hated to feel helpless.

And that was exactly how she felt. Helpless. The only thing she could do now was to throw herself into her studies. She had to become a Healer. For Katie.

Kenneth Towler was not having a great day. If he were perfectly honest, he hadn't had many good days since graduation. First and foremost, his job sucked. Gerald Harper, who was old enough to be his father, was a prick — even with Bill Weasley doing his best to keep Kenneth out of the line of fire. Secondly, he hadn't found much while searching the accounts at Gringotts, and thirdly, he still couldn't attend Order meetings. Aside from Bill, his only contacts with the Order were Professor Dumbledore and a Slytherin student from his year that he barely trusted. And while he and Pucey were at least civil to each other in their work for the Order, Kenneth really couldn't stand the minted arse and never had.

He'd had a particularly rough day at work on October 31st. Melinda Rockwood had come into the bank, but Kenneth and Bill hadn't even known of her visit because Harper was prepared and had been ready to handle the interaction in advance. They'd only learned about it later when the paperwork came down the pipe for filing. She had withdrawn some money and was out again before anyone was any the wiser. It was going to be impossible for Kenneth to read anyone's minds if he didn't know when Death Eaters or their wives and other family members were even coming into the bank!

It was also Halloween, which should have been a fun evening, but he certainly didn't expect any festivities around Diagon Alley. Why would there be? Half the place was closed up. Karen had gone back to her parents' for the night — her mother was a muggle-born and her father was a half-blood, but they celebrated in muggle style. Kenneth had been interested to see what that was about and had actually planned to Apparate to their neighborhood in Bristol for the evening, but then he unexpectedly received an owl shortly after he got back to his flat at 5:10 with a message that he was needed at the Fighting Badger Pub in Little Helga — because apparently, Gilbert Royle had been there all afternoon, was completely smashed, and the bartender was getting damned tired of him. When questioned, Royle had unfortunately mentioned Kenneth's name.

Of course he had; Kenneth was Gilbert's best friend. But the thing was, Kenneth had never seen Gilbert drunk before, and he couldn't imagine what possessed his best mate to go off the deep end. To make it more complicated, Kenneth hadn't seen Gil very much lately at all, which was strange in and of itself. He and Gil usually got drinks once or twice a week to catch up, but over the past month Gil had been skipping their meetings with more regularity, and when he did show, he was always moody, depressed, and quiet.

Kenneth felt he'd pieced some of it together, though a lot of it was guesswork. Back at the beginning of October, when the twins had thrown that big party and Alicia had gotten drunk, Karen had made the comment that she thought Alicia was dating Gil. That had been news to Kenneth. Gilbert hadn't told him anything of the sort, and Kenneth was absolutely baffled. Alicia denied they were involved to that extent, but there must have been some truth to it because Karen told him later that she knew for a fact Gilbert and Alicia had been on several dates — she'd heard from some other Hufflepuffs who had seen the two out and about together in September.

"I guess it just wasn't meant to be," she'd said thoughtfully. "But I know Gil's had a crush on Alicia for a long time. I hate that for him, but Alicia can't help how she feels, either."

"Has he?" Kenneth had been surprised by that. Gil had never mentioned having a crush on Alicia. How had he never known his best mate fancied one of the only two Gryffindor girls in their year? How had he missed that?

But Karen had merely laughed. "He never told you because he thought you fancied Alicia for a bit back at Hogwarts."

While that had technically been true, Kenneth's crush on Alicia had been fairly short-lived, confined to just a few months at the end of his fourth year and the beginning of his fifth — mainly because Lee Jordan had had a crush on both Alicia and Angelina for several years, plus Fred had always thought Angelina was hot, and George… well, George kept things close to the chest, but Kenneth had a suspicion that George's feelings for Angelina were a bit deeper than Fred's and Lee's, though the second twin had never said a word about it. As for Kenneth, he was the sort who hadn't wanted to step on his dorm mates' toes. He already felt like he didn't fit in with them terribly well. Lusting after the same two girls that they did felt a little wrong. But, apparently, Gil had felt the same: he hadn't confided in Kenneth because Gil thought Kenneth fancied Alicia at some point.

Then, after the Yule Ball, Lee's affections had switched primarily to Alicia. It didn't matter that Alicia thought of it as a night with two of her mates — Lee felt differently. He'd admitted in the boys' dorms that he thought Alicia would be a sure thing, that she would come around and agree to be his girl in short order, but that had never been the case. And naturally, Lee had never understood why Alicia wasn't interested in him in that way. But something Karen had said to Alicia after the twins' party had been playing in Kenneth's head, too: My money's on a pureblood Slytherin who couldn't openly date a half-blood Gryffindor. And really, there was only one fit, nice Slytherin in our class.

Kenneth already knew Pucey fancied Alicia — Dumbledore had said it, and Pucey had reluctantly admitted it. But now he knew Alicia fancied Pucey too, because Alicia hadn't denied Karen's statement. In fact, she'd deflected by bolting out of the door and getting Kenneth to Apparate her back to Angie's flat. Based on that, plus other things Pucey had said… well, Kenneth now solidly felt that Pucey and Alicia had been involved for at least part of seventh-year, though Kenneth had no idea how long or how deep. Deep enough, though. They were pining for each other. Because they'd also apparently come to some stupid-arse agreement to end things when they graduated, because Slytherins and Gryffindors just didn't work on principle. But Kenneth was certain both Pucey and Alicia were unhappy with that.

Merlin, but he was grateful he and Karen were together without any drama, because the quadrangle that was Alicia, Pucey, Lee, and Gilbert was enough to make his head hurt.

Regardless, the main problem he was dealing with right at that second was the fact that Gilbert Royle was his best mate, and Kenneth couldn't leave his best mate drunk in a pub on Halloween night. So instead of meeting up with Karen, he found himself Apparating to Little Helga in the bitter cold, wondering what the hell had come over Gilbert that he had actually gotten drunk. Was he just pining for Alicia, or was it more than that? Kenneth honestly had no idea.

The Fighting Badger was packed. Kenneth pushed his way inside until he got to the bar, flagged the barman, and yelled over the noise, "I'm here to haul Gilbert Royle out, apparently?"

The barman arched an eyebrow. "You Towler?"

"Unfortunately," he deadpanned.

"This way." The man jerked his head towards the end of the bar.

Kenneth followed him, only to find Gilbert hunched in the last seat, up against the wall. His clothes were rumpled, his face was red, and he was out cold. Kenneth groaned and rubbed his hands under his glasses. Just fucking great.

The barman leaned over and said loud enough for Kenneth to hear, "He's been coming here pretty regular for the past month, but this afternoon's been the worst so far. He's been really upset about some bird. I think he wanted to take her somewhere tonight but things didn't work out between them. He said he wished he could talk to you, because he'd been an awful mate. That was just before he passed out, so I took a chance on sending an owl. I'm glad it reached you pretty fast."

"Thanks," Kenneth muttered. "I'll get him home safely."

The man nodded. "'Preciate it. Listen, I can tell drunks apart. He's annoying, sure, but he's not rowdy and he wasn't causing trouble. He's just down and out, and I hated to kick him into the cold just because some bird turned him down."

That didn't make Kenneth's job easier, though. He hauled Gil up and staggered under the dead weight. The bartender was nice enough to let him out the back door into an alley, but Gilbert was at least eleven stone of lean muscle from playing Quidditch, and though Kenneth was fairly trim, he wasn't exactly in Oliver Wood's shape, either. He probably weighed slightly less than Gilbert. He thought about levitating Gil with his wand, but that wouldn't work — the Apparition point on the landing outside Kenneth's apartment was pretty narrow, and he didn't want to risk splinching Gil.

There was only one thing to do, and it was the absolute last thing Kenneth wanted to do.

He angrily cast a Patronus into the dark and hoped the recipient would help him, although it seemed like some twisted, sick irony to ask one of Alicia's other admirers to help him with this problem.

The absolute last thing Adrian wanted to do on Halloween night was Apparate to some pub in Little Helga to help someone he didn't like. When that fucking elephant appeared in his parents' library and Towler's voice had asked for his help, Adrian had actually sworn and thrown the book he'd been reading at the thing. It dissolved in silver mist and he'd raked his hands through his hair in sheer annoyance.

But Dumbledore had wanted them to help each other, so Adrian went to his room, pulled on a pair of lined boots, and found a thick winter cloak and a scarf. He'd gone back downstairs, located his father in the study, and told him that an acquaintance needed his help and he'd be back soon. His father warned him to be careful, and Adrian headed for the Apparition point just outside the villa's gates.

When he appeared in an alley behind the Fighting Badger Pub, it was to find Kenneth Towler barely holding up a comatose Gilbert Royle.

"What the hell happened to him?" Adrian demanded, completely surprised. He'd known Gilbert since before Hogwarts, and the kind, bland Hufflepuff wasn't the sort to get completely trashed in a pub.

"He's been drinking all afternoon, apparently. And unfortunately, he said my name just before he passed out, so the bartender sent me an owl on the off-chance that I might come pick his arse up. But the thing is, the Apparition point on the landing to my flat is a little tight. If I levitate him, I might splinch him."

Adrian scowled. "Will the landing be large enough for all three of us? Might be better to set up a portkey."

"It might," Towler said mulishly, "but I think I can manage it as long as you help me keep him upright."

"Listen, Towler," Adrian said through gritted teeth, "The last thing I want to do tonight is end up in St. Mungo's, splinched, because of this!" He could only imagine how busy the magical hospital would be on Halloween. It was literally the last place he'd want to be.

"Noted," Towler said tersely. He straightened Gil's body between them. Adrian barely had time to catch Gil before Gil fell into him, and before he could protest, Towler Apparated perfectly onto the top of a metal staircase outside an upstairs apartment in Diagon Alley.

That was annoying, too. Some small, irritated part of Adrian had kind of hoped Towler would mess up the landing just so Adrian could blame him further for roping him into this shite.

Towler tapped the door with his wand and checked to make sure no one else was in the flat before they pulled Gilbert inside. As soon as the door was closed, he levitated Gil horizontally and said, "Put some wards back up, will you? Karen's at her parents' tonight, so she won't be home until morning."

Adrian nodded and began casting advanced lock charms on the door while Kenneth dumped Gilbert rather unceremoniously on the sofa.

"So why didn't you call one of the Weasley twins or Jordan to help you with him?" Adrian asked tersely. "Any particular reason you chose me?"

"The twins and Jordan wouldn't let Gil live it down. You're more discreet. I've never seen him like this. I don't want those arseholes to rake him over."

Adrian snorted. That was all true, he thought, but still. "And why exactly did he get this drunk? I don't think I've ever seen him drink more than…" He trailed off.

Actually, the only times Adrian had seen Gilbert drink were at the occasional society function, but it seemed rather ponce-ish to say he'd only ever seen Gilbert drinking champagne or a single whiskey neat at a garden party.

Towler looked nervous. "I'm not sure, exactly. The bartender said he was… pining for a girl."

Adrian's eyebrows rose. That was surprising. Royle wasn't bad-looking, he supposed, and he was sure the Hufflepuff had fancied at least a couple of different witches when they'd been at Hogwarts. He couldn't quite imagine a girl turning Gilbert down when Gil was both decent-looking and the sole heir to a small fortune.

Towler sighed. "Listen. I don't know much, but…" He hesitated. "Maybe you should sit down first."

"What on earth for?" Adrian retorted. He certainly wasn't planning to spend all night with Towler, trying to get Royle undrunk or figure out why Royle was pining for a girl.

"Just sit down, damn it."

Adrian rolled his eyes and rigidly sat down on the arm of an armchair, before glowering at Kenneth. "Get on with it, Towler."

Kenneth rubbed the back of his neck. "Apparently, back in September, he and Alicia went on a few dates —"

Adrian almost jolted and had to brace one foot on the floor so he wouldn't fall off the chair. Bloody fuck. No wonder Towler had told him to sit down! It felt like someone had punched him! Only years of surviving in Slytherin enabled him to keep his expression neutral without showing his real emotions.

The irritating, logical voice in his head spoke up before he could squash it: She has every right to date Gil. You two ended things in June. She's not some nun, she can do whatever she wants and you can't stop her.

Towler wasn't aware of his internal monologue, though. He barreled on, completely oblivious. "Apparently, things didn't work out between them. But… he didn't tell me."

"Well," Adrian forced himself to say through gritted teeth, filing away the fact that things clearly hadn't worked between Royle and Alicia, "you've been working full time, and he hasn't. He probably didn't want to bother you, knowing his personality."

Towler looked frustrated about that. "Maybe. I know I've been busy with work, but I always made time to meet up with him during the week. He's been skipping our meetings some, and getting trashed instead. Karen told me that he's liked Alicia for a long time, since fourth or fifth-year, I think. I guess he's having trouble accepting that she isn't interested in him that way. But Alicia made it pretty clear when Karen asked her; she said they were just friends."

"Look, I can't help you with this," Adrian said shortly, filing that away, too. "You know I can't. In fact, I should get out of here before he comes around. Next time, call the bloody Weasley twins instead of me, yeah?"

Towler frowned at him. "Just so you know, Alicia misses you as much as you miss her."

Adrian kept his face impassive. "I doubt that. We agreed —"

"Stop giving me that shite." Towler glared. "You're both being stupid. She got drunk herself three weeks ago, and Karen and I hauled her out of a bad situation. She was about to shag Jordan, of all people, while drunk —"

Adrian felt bile rise in his throat so fast he was sure he was going to choke or throw up. What the hell?!

"— because she fucking misses you." Towler went on angrily. "When we got her sober, she even admitted she was having trouble getting over you. I mean, no, she didn't say your name — she just said that she was having trouble getting over someone from last year, and that you had both agreed to break things off in June, but I can put two and two together. She still likes you, alright? So, what are you going to do about it?"

Adrian could feel a muscle working in his jaw. It was taking all he had not to hex Towler, because it now made perfect sense why the Gryffindor had contacted him instead of the Weasley twins or Lee Jordan. "Playing matchmaker doesn't suit you," he snapped, before rising and going to the door. Without looking back, he started reversing the charms.

"Pucey —"

"This discussion is over," Adrian grit out. "I can't do anything about how I feel because we're in the middle of a war and Dumbledore told me not to talk to her about what I'm doing —" He broke off abruptly; Gil might be unconscious, but Adrian couldn't risk him waking up and overhearing anything, either. Even drunk.

"Fine, be an idiot. But before you go, I had something else I needed to mention to you. We should come up with some codes between us."

Adrian glanced behind him at the random change in conversation; he had one more charm to remove, but he hesitated. "Codes?"

Towler nodded and pushed his glasses up his nose a bit. "Code names… obscure, random meeting locations… just as a precaution. I was thinking about it while I was holding him up behind the pub." He nodded once towards Gil's prone form. "While I was waiting for you. You never know when we might have a need for that sort of thing, and it might be best to come up with some, sooner rather than later. This wasn't Order-related, but next time might be, and we don't need to be caught in a situation where we need to act quickly and don't have a plan already laid out."

That unfortunately made sense, and Adrian supposed it would give him something to do for a couple of weeks.

"Fine. I'll try to think of some ideas over the next few days. But next time, use the fucking mirror, would you? That Patronus of yours is huge. Thank Salazar my parents weren't in the library when it found me."

Towler, damn him, smirked a bit. "I'll try to remember that."

Out on the landing, Adrian slammed the door behind him and Apparated back to Pucey Villa. Fuck Towler and Royle both.

As soon as he appeared in front of his parents' estate, he stormed back through the gates and down the snow-covered drive to the front door, jealousy roiling furiously in his gut. The very idea of Alicia cozying up in some warm pub booth with that bland, boring, too-polite Hufflepuff, giggling and leaning in close to him, kissing him…

Adrian clenched his fists so hard his nails dug into his palms. It was absolutely insufferable! And, though he was slightly placated by the fact that things hadn't worked out between her and Royle (thank Merlin things hadn't worked between them, he thought hatefully), a small, sane, reasonable part of him also knew it was utterly stupid to get jealous and mad about it in the first place — which honestly made him angrier.

But the hard truth was that they had agreed to end things, and Dumbledore wanted him to remain invisible in his work for the Order. Towler knew all of that. It was Towler who was the fucking problem. He'd deliberately contacted Adrian for help tonight just so he could wind Adrian up, make him jealous! But Towler knew he couldn't be around Alicia right now. She was a half-blood Gryffindor and Adrian was a pureblood Slytherin working against his own house. With the war on, it was just too dangerous.

Of course, the idea of her shagging Lee Jordan while drunk was even more repulsive than her going on a date with Gilbert Royle. At least Royle was a respectable sort, for all he was bland and boring. He would never take advantage of Alicia if she was drunk. Lee Jordan was just the opposite, though. He was too loud, too obnoxious, and too irritating. What on earth had even possessed her to get drunk with Jordan? He supposed he should have thanked Towler for stepping in and preventing Jordan from taking advantage of Alicia, but it wasn't as if Adrian had any right to stop her from making stupid decisions.

The idea of getting drunk himself tonight was tempting, but Bridget's demand from August drifted back to him. She'd made him swear he wouldn't get drunk again, and she was right. It was a stupid idea. Hell, one might almost have sex with Lee Jordan or end up passed out on Kenneth Towler's sofa, otherwise.

Adrian's gut suddenly wrenched at a new, disconcerting thought: hadn't he been just as bad? Two and a half months ago, in Paris, he'd shagged some girl he didn't even know, all because he was missing Alicia. There was absolutely no difference in what he'd done compared to what Alicia had done, except the girl he'd been with had at least given consent. Otherwise, he and Alicia were completely equal in that regard. Actually, Alicia was probably better; she hadn't slept with Jordan because Towler had stepped in.

Adrian? Hell. He'd gone on to sleep with four other girls on the French coast. Something inside of him broke a little as he headed upstairs to his bedroom. He was really awful. How could he be so selfish? He had absolutely no right to be jealous of Royle, Jordan, or anyone else Alicia went out with, and he had no right to be angry at Alicia, either.

She wasn't his girl.

When Gilbert Royle finally came to, wincing and throwing an arm over his eyes to block the light, Kenneth wasn't in a mood to give him a Hangover Potion. He and Karen had done that for Alicia, but potions were getting harder and more expensive to come by, and he couldn't deplete his meager stock for every drunk person who staggered into his flat. It wasn't as if he was running some wayward stop for down-and-out friends, damn it.

"What the fuck?" Gil muttered, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes.

"Awake, are you?" Kenneth asked waspishly.

Gil winced again. "Not so loud, damn it."

"Listen, I fished your arse out of a pub in Little Helga at the insistence of a barman I've never met who sent me a random owl only because you dropped my name in a drunken conversation. I missed spending the night with Karen and had to deal with at least one unpleasant person to drag you here. And why? All because you're pining for Alicia Spinnet, apparently. But you couldn't even be half-arsed to tell me that, because you keep missing our usual meetings to catch up."

Gilbert had gone completely still. After a long, awkward pause, he sighed and said, "I'll buy you another Hangover Potion if you just give me one right now. I don't even care how much it costs, Kenneth. Please."

Kenneth's lip curled. "I'm holding you to that; a vial is running at least five galleons at the moment."

"I'll buy two to replace it."

"You don't have to show off how fucking minted you are." Kenneth raised his wand and summoned the Hangover Potion; it zoomed into his hand and he slapped it hard into Gil's outstretched palm.

Gil kept his eyes shut tight as he wedged the cork off and threw it back, coughing and sputtering. "Damn, Chrysanthe is right, that does taste like —"

"We all know what it tastes like," Kenneth said disparagingly. "Tell me what the fuck is going on."

Gilbert had his arm over his eyes again. He waited a few moments, probably to see if the potion would kick in, but since he'd been unconscious when Kenneth found him, it would likely take a bit longer than Gilbert wanted.

"I'm waiting," Kenneth said stubbornly.

Gil cringed. "I was stupid, okay? I get it."

"That isn't what's bothering me," Kenneth snarled.

Gil lifted his arm slightly and frowned. "What?"

"We're supposed to be best mates, and you've skipped out on our catch-ups the past few times. Why? Did I piss you off or something? What did I do?"

Gil flushed, and not from alcohol. "You didn't do anything. I know you've been busy —"

"That doesn't mean I don't want to catch up. In fact, it's all the more reason to catch up. And why didn't you tell me you were seeing Alicia?"

The hangover potion kicked in at that point and Gilbert groaned as his face returned to its normal color. "Oh, hell, that's better."

"Don't forget, you owe me two bottles."

Gil slowly sat up. "I won't forget."

Kenneth frowned. "Seriously. What's going on?"

Gilbert gave him a small smile. "I've been a ponce, I know." And when Kenneth didn't respond to that, Gilbert sighed and raked a hand through his messy hair. "Alright, fine. I've fancied Alicia since fourth-year, but I knew you liked her back then too, so I didn't say anything. I honestly never thought she'd go out with me. Why would she? She was popular and smart and lovely and —"

"Are you kidding me? If you had asked her back then, she probably would have gone out with you!"

"I'm a nobody —"

"You're the heir to a small fortune, and I don't give a shite about your arsehole grandfather. He won't live forever. You're set for life. Any girl would go out with you!"

"I don't want witches to date me just because I'm minted," Gil snapped.

Kenneth's fists curled in his lap. "Alicia wouldn't have done that. Not back at Hogwarts, and not now."

Gilbert deflated a bit. "I know. She wouldn't have. She and I ran into each other at the Gryphon back in… August, maybe? Hell, I don't even remember. We had a good time that night, dancing and catching up. So, we went on a few more dates. And then…" He winced and looked away. "The night of the Harpies-Falcon game, we went back to her place because the Gryphon was packed. After the game, I kissed her goodnight. But I guess… she didn't feel anything." His shoulders dropped and he kept his eyes averted.

"Sometimes that happens. It happened between me and Viola. I never felt anything with her. You just have to find the person you feel something with —"

"Yes, but that's just it. I wanted to feel something with Alicia. I've liked her for a long time." Gil chuckled bitterly. "She tried to break things off as nice as she could. She was really upset about it. But it doesn't make it any easier to swallow, you know? I was just really hoping it would work."

"I'm sorry it didn't, but it also doesn't mean you need to get drunk off your arse two months after the fact," Kenneth said flatly.

"I know, okay? I said I was stupid. I'll try to talk to Alicia at some point. It just feels awkward, that's all. When we passed her in the Gryphon a few weeks ago, I couldn't even look at her, I was so embarrassed."

"I'm sure she's probably wondering why you're acting the way you are, too. I know Alicia. She would never want to hurt you. She probably feels awful."

Gilbert's face crumpled. "I'm sure she didn't want to hurt me. But it did hurt, and I can't help how I feel, you know."

Kenneth softened a little. "I know that too. And I can't help feeling a little angry that you stopped talking to me."

Gilbert gave him a weak smile. "Being an adult sucks, you know?"

At that, Kenneth laughed. "It does. But at least you don't have to put up with Gerald Harper."

"Worse than Umbridge?" Gil joked.

"Merlin's arse, no one is worse than Umbridge. But he's certainly unpleasant and he makes my life hell."

Gilbert snorted, and a trace of his high class upbringing surfaced for just a moment. "Yeah, well. The arse isn't wealthy enough to move in traditional Slytherin high class circles, and he resents that. He'll always be on the lower rungs."

Kenneth refrained from saying that Pucey had told him the same thing, but to hear it twice drove it home a bit more. He knew there was no way to win Harper over (not that he even wanted to), but it certainly made his life difficult.

"Listen, you can sleep the night on the sofa if you want, if you'd rather not go home tonight."

"Cheers." Gilbert leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "I appreciate it, Kenneth. I'm really sorry. I'll get my shite together, I promise. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"And as Fred would say, enough with the mushy shite. Come on, I'll put on some coffee. You could probably use it."

Gilbert laughed. "Thanks."

Author's Notes:

1. Credit for the town name of Little Helga goes to Mandy, who used it in several of her stories and was kind enough to allow me to use elements from her stories in this story. The Fighting Badger is my own creation, but it sounded highly appropriate for a town like Little Helga.

2. Ten stone is 140 lbs, eleven stone is 154 lbs, and 12 stone is 168 lbs. I honestly have no idea what the average 18-year-old boy weighed in 1996. Kenneth doesn't work out, but he's pretty lean. Gilbert played Quidditch, so I'm guessing he has more muscle mass than Kenneth and probably weighs slightly more. Otherwise, they're nearly the same height (Kenneth is 6'1" and Gil is 6'0"). By contrast, Adrian is 6'2" and probably weighs 11.5 stone. I think. I don't know. I'm just making wild guesses.