Chapter 19 – Jack

Now he's gone and I'm burning all alone

A beautiful story left incomplete
Ooh, how he knocked me off of my feet

When Janey first woke up, she felt rather content. The sun was warm on her face because she had never closed the curtains, and at some point in the night, Dolly had snuck onto her bed, her soft white fur pressed up against Janey's neck. Janey reached out a lazy hand to caress the cat's back, and she purred contentedly in response.

Janey felt different, but she wasn't sure why. She was seventeen, she realised. A legal adult in the eyes of the wizarding world, yet she still felt so young. And then she remembered.

Janey sat upright like a shot, disturbing Dolly and causing her to hiss in distress.

"Oh my God," Janey said out loud as reality sunk in. She felt as though an icy wave was slowly spreading through her veins, creeping outwards from her stomach until her whole body was gripped with anxiety. "Oh my God," she said again in horror.

Had what happened last night really happened? Had she dreamt it? But then, if she had, why on earth would it have happened the way it had?

Janey felt disgusted at herself, mortified. "Dolly," she said in a panic, as though the cat could somehow understand her and provide reassurance. "Dolly, oh my God," she said for a third time. "What did I do?"

She couldn't believe she had actually propositioned Sam to sleep with her. And that, to some extent, they had actually kind of gone through with it. It wasn't that she really regretted the concept, it was just the execution itself had been so dramatically humiliating.

Janey audibly groaned, dropping her head into her hands. Sam must think her a complete and utter slut. To have thrown herself at him like that, to have practically begged him to take her virginity. She felt guilty too. She had known he was hesitant, and yet, she had been unable to disguise her blatant hurt at his reluctance to honour her request.

He had only gone through with it then out of pity. He must have.

Janey had thought maybe Sam had been enjoying it, because he had certainly seemed enthusiastic, despite his initial hesitance. And he had insisted that he wanted it too, she reasoned. Eventually.

But had Sam only appeased her because he thought that's what she wanted?—Janey wondered in a panic. He had only gone through with it because it was her birthday, and maybe she had made him feel bad, like he didn't find her desirable in that way. Sam was often too sweet for his own good.

Janey experienced a sudden rush of hatred for herself. God, if he'd only slept with her out of some weird feeling of guilt, or pressure from her, that would make her the worst kind of person. But maybe she was, she thought. Maybe she was just an evil, manipulative, terrible slut who had wanted what she wanted and guilted her poor, sweet boyfriend into an experience no one should enter unwillingly.

But he had insisted he was okay and that he wanted it too, Janey desperately thought. His words had said yes, and yet his body hadn't exactly responded with the same conviction. Well, it was very clear that he was excited about what they were doing, and enthusiastic to start. But he had left, Janey remembered sadly. At what had seemed like it was the heat of passion—for him at least—without any explanation. Without so much as a word of kindness. He had been bitter, Janey remembered, sort of angry. Resentful, even, she further realised. He had hated the experience and hated her for convincing him to go through with it.

How mortifying, Janey thought. Sex was supposed to be good, to be fun. For the guys especially—were they even supposed to be capable of not enjoying themselves? But Sam clearly hadn't, otherwise he wouldn't have left the way he had. She must have been the most awful sexual partner in the history of lovemaking for him to have intentionally stopped what they were doing and left without a word. He had not even wanted to see it through. The experience had been so unpleasant that he hadn't even wanted to stick it out for the almost guaranteed euphoria he had been rapidly approaching. She might not have experienced it before, but Janey wasn't an idiot, she knew how close Sam had been.

But he had left.

Janey felt tiny in the sea of bedsheets, like a marooned castaway. She was forced to sit in shame in the middle of the crime scene that she alone was responsible for. She looked around the bed nervously, like there would be some kind of evidence of what they'd done last night, but for all that had happened, it looked no different to usual. Except now it was. Now it was no longer just a bed—a place for her to rest her head. The place she had been resting her head since she was a child. Now it was a den of licentious shame, marred by the vile act of animalistic craving. She felt as though a red banner was wrapped around her, declaring for all the world to see that she was no longer a pure and sweet child.

"It's just sex," Janey said furiously, and Dolly looked at her with suspicion, still a little put out by the unintentional jumpscare her owner had given her. "We didn't do anything wrong. It's not a shameful thing," she insisted. But then why did she feel so ashamed?

Not because she'd lost her virginity, Janey reasoned, but because she had been so embarrassingly awful at it. That was all. She had seen countless attempts from the media to guilt women into feeling ashamed of their bodies, of their sexuality, and she had never bought what they were selling. Janey loved popstars. She loved actresses. She loved music and films centred on women. Women who were strong, and smart, and sexual, and loved their bodies, and loved to dance, and loved to have sex. It was not a shameful thing, she thought with fury.

But she had been naïve about it, she realised. Maybe in her mind, Janey had always been mentally prepared for the natural progression to being sexually active, but Hogwarts felt like it emitted this weird barrier around that aspect of adolescent progression. Their sex education had been dire and awkward, with almost zero helpful information, and despite all they'd done, Janey had to admit that she felt very young in her group of friends.

They might have fought dark wizards, and camped out in cursed forests, but they were all a little naïve about normal things. Janey supposed it was natural that there would be different priorities in the wizarding world. She had no doubt that the kind of girls she'd gone to middle school with in the Muggle world would have been sexually active by now, and a lot more casual about it. But Rose, Gwen, and Taylor seemed to act like even kissing a boy was a massive deal and an indicator of a lifelong commitment. They acted like it was normal to consider themselves in love at seventeen. Even James, her male counterpart, had just gotten married to his first serious girlfriend! She considered that if anybody would act more normal about this kind of thing, it would be James, but there was no way in hell she would want to talk to him about what she and Sam had done the night before.

Another panic gripped her. Would Sam tell him?—she wondered. Would he brag about losing his virginity with Janey, and they would all gossip and exchange intimate details? But no, surely not. How could Sam possibly brag about what had happened when it hadn't even been successful?

Janey grabbed for her mobile phone, hoping it was somewhere on her bedside table. When she eventually found it, she frantically searched the notifications on her home screen. There were no calls or messages from Sam.

So he was still angry with her, she assumed. He did not want to speak to her about their awkward encounter, not even to chastise her for initiating it or express regret for what she'd pressured him into.

Janey flung the phone with great force across the room where, fortunately, it rebounded off a chaise longue adorned with fluffy throw cushions. Dolly flicked her tail with curiosity, perhaps considering chasing after it.

"I hate myself," Janey whispered under her breath.

What had even led her to proposition Sam in the way that she had? She couldn't deny that all evening she'd been feeling those intense new emotions of appreciation for him. A weird sensation in her stomach whenever she looked at him—a longing for every single part of him she could have. And she had wanted it all.

Janey had thought Sam had been reciprocating that same energy, but his immediate reaction had let her know she couldn't have been more wrong about her assumptions. It also meant that, despite how much more physically confident they'd been getting with each other over the summer, and the awkward undertones of Delia Tyler's suspicions at Sam's house a few weeks ago, Sam had not even remotely been thinking about pursuing a sexual relationship with Janey. He had not been having those same stirrings within, the late-night fantasies.

Was Janey some kind of sex fiend? But again, she rationalised, exploring your sexuality in your teens was not a wrong or uncommon thing. Stupid, stupid Hogwarts just made her feel like it was. Sam was the abnormal one, not her, she thought furiously.

But for all she had thought about what the experience would be like, despite what all the films and songs suggested, it certainly hadn't been the incredible experience she had always thought it would be. In her mind, she had assumed that, upon asking Sam if he would sleep with her, he would meet her with equal knowing enthusiasm. That he would honour her body with confident expertise and give her an unforgettable birthday experience.

And in acknowledging that train of thought, Janey realised she had set herself up for failure. Of course Sam wouldn't have known what the hell he was doing—when had he ever! He had been shy and awkward since their first kiss at Rosewood Manor. His naivety was sometimes endearing but often it was infuriating. Janey should have known not to expect fireworks the first time. That no matter how comfortable she felt with Sam—hence why she'd even felt confident enough to ask him to share that experience with her in the first place—he wasn't remotely experienced with any of it.

It would have been better with someone who knew what they were doing, Janey realised. And for whatever reason, she supposed she must always have thought that her first time would be with someone with more experience than Sam. Though there wasn't any other person currently in her life she could even entertain the thought of having her first time with in place of him.

Why had it hurt so much?—Janey thought sadly. It was supposed to be the pinnacle of pleasurable sensations, and yet, she had not felt that at all. The films… The songs… They couldn't be lying?

So it must be her, she reasoned. It wasn't Sam's fault, because as inexperienced as he might have been, he obviously was enjoying it in the way he was supposed to. Physically.

But not enough to see it through to the end.

Janey clenched both hands into fists, longing to throw her phone across the room again. No matter how much she had tried to lose herself in it, the discomfort and pain just wouldn't subside. She had liked kissing Sam. She had liked the sensations of grinding their bodies against each other, especially with their bare skin pressed together. But it was like every time she became aware of what they were actually doing, her entire body tensed up in protest. She had wanted Sam to push through her obvious displeasure, certain that it was just initial hesitance that was making her body react the way it had, but the more she thought about it, the more she realised it had been the right decision for him to leave.

She only wished he had wanted to talk to her about it afterwards.—so that she could explain that he hadn't done anything wrong and that she was enjoying herself, it just wasn't quite what she had expected. But he had left in anger and disgust, and he had not even bothered to reach out to her to say literally anything.

Was it over?—Janey wondered. Had she pushed Sam too far? Had she now just ruined the first relationship she had ever truly cherished with more sentiment than a simple need to feel desired?

It did not even bear thinking about. She would simply have to wait for him to finally call her. If he ever did, that was.

Janey pulled on a silk dressing gown before heading downstairs for breakfast, Dolly eagerly following at her heel.

"Morning."

Janey shrieked.

"Pleased to see you too!"

"Daddy!" Janey said, her heart racing from the shock. "I didn't think you would be getting here until the afternoon."

Mr Davington, Janey's father, was sitting at the kitchen table with that morning's newspaper and a half-drunk mug of coffee. He smirked at her before taking a sip. "I got back early. And it's also one in the afternoon, Janey," he teased.

"It is?" Janey looked at the large ornate clock that hung above the counter and saw that he was telling the truth. How had she slept in so late? The realisation that Sam was definitely avoiding messaging her became evident, and her stomach twisted into a knot.

"Happy birthday, my sleeping beauty," Mr Davington crooned, finding delight in her surprise. "Late night, was it?"

Janey wrapped the dressing gown around her tighter, wishing she'd gotten dressed before coming downstairs. Although her father was smiling, she felt his eyes burning through her, like he could somehow sense what she had been up to last night.

"No," she responded a little too quickly. "I just had nothing to do today." Janey made her way over to the coffeemaker, partially because she was craving caffeine, and partially because she didn't want to look her father in the eye.

She was shocked to see her bouquet from Sam carefully arranged in a vase on the counter. So he had been here? But then, that was even worse, surely. He had delivered on his promise to return the flowers, but he had not even wanted to stay or see her at all. He had probably just handed it over to the staff and gone on his way. The thought made her heart sink.

"So when did the boyfriend leave?"

Janey almost dropped the mug she'd picked up.

"Who?" she snapped, turning to glare at him.

"You know," he went on with a grin, "the paramour. You really don't need to hide him from me." He leant forward eagerly in his chair, placing the newspaper down on the table. "In fact, I would love to meet him."

"I don't have a boyfriend," Janey lied. "And I don't know what you're talking about." She turned away, blushing, busying herself with the coffeemaker once more to hide her embarrassment. But she could still feel her father's smirk burning into her back.

"The, err, young gentleman who was here last night," Mr Davington pressed on, greatly enjoying teasing his daughter.

Janey looked at him sharply. "Who ever said—?"

Mr Davington was on his feet, retrieving something he'd placed on a nearby chair. To Janey's horror, she realised what it was. The crumpled satin bedsheet Sam had ungracefully stormed from the house wrapped in.

"This was screwed up on the driveway when I arrived this morning."

Janey's heart was thumping in her chest as she frantically tried to think of a logical explanation that involved misplaced laundry. "It was probably just—"

"I was curious," her dad interrupted, "so I had Albert access the security cameras for me."

Janey swore under her breath.

"Seems like some scantily-clad young man was fleeing in the early hours of the morning."

Father and daughter held each other's stare for a while, one greatly entertained, one deeply mortified. Mr Davington spoke first.

"Janey—"

But Janey interrupted, profoundly flustered. "It wasn't what you're thinking," she lied. "Sam was just—"

"Sam?" her dad repeated, cocking an eyebrow.

Janey cursed herself internally.

"He didn't—" But Janey didn't know what to say. "He wasn't—!"

"Janey," her dad said calmly. "I'm not mad. You're sixteen now, it's expected."

"I'm seventeen!" she said furiously.

Mr Davington paused for a second, a look of confusion darting across her face. But he broke into that irritating grin once more and laughed it off. "I know, I was joking."

But Janey suspected he wasn't.

"My point is, I know perfectly well you're going to have boys round."

Janey wanted to correct him and insist it would only ever be just the one boy, but to admit to her father that she was, in fact, in a steady relationship was something she didn't want to do. She supposed she would have to later unpack why she was more comfortable with the idea that her father thought she had a string of lovers coming and going from her bedroom than just one she was happily committed to. But then again, the fact that her father was so openly talking about boys spending the night with her was not something she felt comfortable with either.

"It was my birthday," Janey said meekly, feeling like she had to justify herself. "It got late, and he had to go, but we weren't… we weren't… We had a drink," she settled on.

"Well, not the good stuff, I should hope," Mr Davington said, teasing her once more. He drained the last of his coffee whilst Janey just stood there, mortified, completely forgetting about her own. "Let the poor guy stay the night next time, Janey," he instructed. "Sam, was it?"

"No," Janey said defiantly.

"No you won't let him stay the night or no that's not his name?"

Janey said nothing.

"As I was saying," her father went on, "I have no problem with you having a boy round,"

Janey braced herself for the punchline.

Mr Davington smiled broadly. "I just want to meet him."

There it was. Janey just shook her head in disbelief.

"What? I'm not even allowed to meet the guy sneaking in and out of my daughter's bed?" He was being playful, but Janey was furious.

"No, Daddy," she snapped. "And it isn't like that," she defended on Sam's behalf. She would never want to introduce a boyfriend to her dad, and certainly not Sam. Mr Davington would eat him alive, no matter how much delight he seemed to be taking in the situation.

He leaned forwards once again. "So what is it like?"

Janey scowled. "We're going back to school soon." She decided it was best to avoid the question.

"Well, not for a few more weeks, I'd assume?"

"Sam won't be here again," Janey said firmly, wincing when she realised she'd said his name once more.

But Mr Davington didn't take the bait. He merely surveyed her across the kitchen, a twinkle in his eyes. "Alright, have it your way," he conceded. "For now."

Janey just rolled her eyes. Even if Sam was still speaking to her, she couldn't envision a day she would ever let the two of them meet. She felt weirdly defensive and embarrassed of them both, but she didn't want to think about it too deeply. It had been traumatising enough meeting Sam's family, let alone having him meet hers.

"He has good taste," Mr Davington said, nodding towards the flowers. "He clearly cares about you a lot."

"They were from Mum," Janey lied, knowing this was even more far-fetched.

Janey had been so busy yesterday that she hadn't checked the post at all to see if her mum had sent her a card, but she had certainly made no attempts to call her or reach out in any other way.

"I have to go," Janey said suddenly.

Her dad looked upset. "Oh, come on, Janey, I was just messing with you! I thought we would spend the day together? I came home especially for your birthday—you just told me you don't have plans?"

Janey bit her tongue to stop herself from snarkily reminding him that her actual birthday had been yesterday.

"You're running off to see this fella?"

"No," Janey denied, completely truthfully. She wouldn't be seeing Sam until he reached out to her, which might very well be never again. "No, another friend," she explained, thinking on the spot. "But not for long. We can have dinner together."

Mr Davington looked appeased. "Excellent," he said, and he allowed her to go.

Janey hadn't known where she would go when she'd said it, but she knew she needed to leave the house. She needed to talk to someone, and she knew exactly who.

Less than half an hour later, she had apparated, for the very first time by herself, right outside the Weasleys' front door.

It was Hermione who answered.

"Janey?" she said in surprise. "I didn't know… Is Rose expecting you?"

"Is she not in?" Janey asked worriedly, unsure what she would do otherwise. She had assumed Rose would not have plans without any of the rest of them, but she supposed she could be seeing Scorpius without advertising it. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Oh, no, she is," Hermione clarified. "She just didn't say anything about any plans she had with you."
Janey felt relieved. "No, that's my fault," she explained. "She's not expecting me, and I didn't let her know I was coming. I just… I had something I wanted to talk to her about."

"Oh, of course." Hermione ushered her inside with warmth.

Janey didn't know why she had immediately gone to Rose's house, nor what exactly she planned on talking to her about. Rose was too innocent and naïve for Janey to confess the explicit details of what she and Sam had attempted last night, and would probably be mortified to have a conversation of that nature. Janey was also sure she would feel, even unintentionally, a lot of judgement from Rose's end. The redheaded girl was a devastatingly hopeless romantic. She probably could not even comprehend the physical side of a relationship without first establishing a deep and long-standing love, which Janey and Sam evidently did not have.

Rose had never really appreciated Janey's approach to dating. But she was kind, Janey reasoned. And she was smart. And she did know a lot about being in a relationship, and probably knew Sam best out of them all.

Her house, out of the other three Gryffin-Girls, was also the only one Janey could actually remember the location of.

Ron Weasley looked up from the kitchen table in confusion when Janey walked in. Janey greeted him, but she was sure he couldn't really remember which one of his daughter's little friends she was, despite the fact that barely a couple of months ago they had fought alongside each other in the battle at Rosewood Manor. There was a warmth in the Weasleys' kitchen—in their entire home—that Janey's vast London mansion lacked. She noticed remnants of childhood represented everywhere, similar to Sam's house—children's artwork still stuck on the fridge despite the fact that both Rose and her younger brother Hugo were in their teenage years.

"Janey?" Rose had appeared in the kitchen, and Ron took it as an opportunity to depart without further small talk.

"Rose," Janey greeted with a smile, like it was the most normal thing in the world for her to turn up unexpectedly.

The redhead looked rightfully concerned. "Is everything okay?"

"Of course," Janey dismissed, still attempting light-hearted casualness. "I, err, I just wanted to practise apparating."

"Oh." Rose looked relieved, if not still a little suspicious. "How did it go?"

Janey spread her arms. "I'm still in one piece."

Rose returned her smile as they both settled down at the table. "It's great, isn't it? Finally being able to do magic outside Hogwarts."

"Sure," Janey lied. All she'd done so far was apparate, which, she had to admit, was pretty convenient, but she hadn't needed to use magic otherwise. Rose's house was halfway between a normal Muggle house and a proper wizarding family's house, similar to the Potters. Janey supposed people like Rose and James would leap at the chance to finally be able to casually use magic amongst a household in which it was already frequently used, but for her, there was no obvious appeal.

"So is that really all you wanted?" Rose went on suspiciously. "To practise apparating? You didn't have to come all the way here, surely. Not that I'm not happy to see you," she said quickly.

"I, err, I just wanted to know if you'd spoken to anybody," Janey settled on saying. She was hopeful Sam wouldn't have spread the word of what had happened last night, especially to the likes of Rose, but she wondered if he had made contact with anybody at all. Perhaps she had misunderstood the situation entirely. Maybe Sam wasn't speaking to anybody. Maybe he was otherwise preoccupied or unable to. "Since yesterday."

"Only James and Albus," Rose said. "We were round their house earlier."

"Did James say anything?" Janey asked before she could stop herself. For whatever reason, she felt like if Sam had confided in anybody, it would have been James. But she also desperately hoped it wasn't true. But still, just to know that anybody had spoken to him would put her mind at ease.

"Oh, about Ebony?" Rose said keenly, misunderstanding Janey's line of questioning. "No, Bobbin's still furious. Ebony wants James to be allowed to stay at Hogwarts after the wedding, but she's refusing to let that happen, obviously. And I can't blame her—there's no place for him at Hogwarts! It wouldn't be right, and I don't think Ebony would benefit from it, you know?"

"Mhmm," Janey agreed, a little disappointed. "It will be weird without him though," she couldn't help but find herself say. She hadn't wanted to engage in meaningless chatter, but she did enjoy a casual gossip. It couldn't be helped.

"Honestly, though, I don't know what they expected to happen. There was zero forethought before they just decided to spontaneously elope."

"Would you do it?" Janey couldn't help but ask.

Rose went red. "Elope? At seventeen?"

"Get married," Janey said delicately.

Rose continued to blush. "Of course. You know, eventually. Not… not now. Not even soon!"

"No, of course not," Janey said slyly. "You'd need to be in a relationship first, wouldn't you?"

Rose rolled her eyes and kept her lips pursed. They had all gotten sick of hearing Rose and Scorpius' continued insistence that they weren't, actually, dating. It was only a matter of time before they started to label it as such once more, but for whatever reason, they were being stubborn about it.

Janey supposed she couldn't critique them. She'd be a hypocrite as she and Sam had been in a similar state of denial mere months ago.

"What about… children?" Janey casually asked. She was not going to talk about sex with Rose, not even remotely hint at it, she had come to realise. But still, she wondered what she could garner from Rose about her opinions on it without actually asking.

"Do I want children?" Rose clarified. "Or do I think James and Ebony will be having children soon?"

"Oh, God, do you think that's why they got married so quickly?" Janey asked, now incredibly interested.

Rose snorted. "No, definitely not."

Janey wondered why she was so certain. She herself didn't actually think Ebony was really pregnant, but she wondered why Rose so definitively assumed it couldn't even be a possible motive. It wouldn't have been uncommon, at least not in the Muggle world.

Rose seemed to sense where Janey's thoughts lay. "They… they weren't… you know…"

Having sex?—Janey finished silently, but again, wondered how Rose could possibly know. "You seriously believe that?" Janey asked with a snort. Was Rose really so naïve as to assume James and Ebony had waited until marriage?

The blush on Rose's face only deepened. "James told me," she insisted. "Sort of. I mean, he… It's true, okay?"

Janey was deeply intrigued but didn't want to push it any further, seeing how already deeply uncomfortable Rose was on the topic. Whatever the technicalities were, for James Potter to have pretty confidently confirmed to Rose that he and Ebony hadn't been sexually active until they were actually married was a massive surprise to Janey. So they too were only just starting to explore the physical side of their relationship? She and Sam weren't alone. Although they certainly weren't married.

"Well, they're definitely going to have a fun time as newlyweds," Janey couldn't help but say. "If Bobbin won't even let James anywhere near her."

"They should have waited," Rose said unsympathetically, and Janey wondered if she meant for marriage or sex.

"James is impulsive," Janey defended, "but his heart is in the right place. And I think he and Ebony were both eager to piss Bobbin off."

"I feel like he's the only one who could have gotten away with it," Rose mused. "He's irritatingly likeable."

Janey hadn't really thought about the empty space that James Potter would leave behind at Hogwarts in their final year. She would deeply miss their daily banter, but she was also excited to truly rule those historic corridors.

"Who do you think will be Head Boy and Girl?" she asked excitedly, unable to help picturing her and Sam with matching badges. They were already Prefects, after all.

"It will almost certainly be Ebony, won't it?" Rose said, almost a little sadly.

"Seriously?" Janey scoffed. "You think Bobbin would go full nepotism?"

"Ebony's a great student," Rose insisted. "And she's well-respected. People like her, regardless of who her mother is."

"You think Bobbin would still give her that role after she went and married James Potter?"

"Maybe not," Rose considered. "But we've all kind of irritated her with the whole Rosewood thing, haven't we? Maybe she won't play favourites at all and choose some random Hufflepuff."

"I wouldn't count yourself out of the running, Rose," Janey said kindly. "You're her favourite student."

"She never made me Prefect, though," Rose replied, raising her eyebrows.

"Oh, please, we all know she only did that to teach me some sort of a lesson."

"And did it work?"

Janey smirked. "You tell me."

The two girls smiled at each other.

"Actually, you know, it was probably a punishment—making me a Prefect alongside Sam, knowing how much we…" She gulped, not even realising she had so casually said his name. "Hate each other."

"Hated each other," Rose corrected, looking concerned.

"Yeah."

Rose softened. "Well, maybe on the contrary, Bobbin was actually the first to notice there was a spark there all along. Maybe it was a way to play at matchmaking."

Janey desperately wanted to talk about something other than her and Sam's relationship. "Well, I guess now we know why she put Scorpius and Ebony together."

She had not meant to say it so spitefully, and regretted it immediately when she saw the hurt flicker into Rose's eyes. Her anger was partially fuelled by her own mention of Sam. It hadn't been Rose's fault at all.

"I didn't mean that, Rose," Janey said quickly.

Rose just looked sad. "It's… fine."

"Who do you think will be Head Boy?" Janey asked, desperately trying to regain the lighthearted atmosphere of before.

"Probably Scorpius," Rose said, still looking morose. "He was always her favourite."

Janey couldn't deny that Scorpius was the most likely candidate. "Maybe it will be you and Scorpius," she said kindly, and the hopeful glimmer that flitted into Rose's eyes couldn't be ignored.

"I don't know about that," Rose said dismissively, but Janey could tell she had made up for her earlier comment. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

Truthfully, Janey hoped it would be Rose and Scorpius who were granted the prestigious titles. She supposed, though she liked the attention, she wouldn't want her and Sam to be cast into the spotlight like that. She was already uncomfortable with how publicly their relationship was being perceived by the others; she wouldn't want the whole school watching their every move too. It would be nothing new for Rose and Scorpius. They would probably thrive.

"I should probably go," Janey said suddenly. "My dad is taking me for a birthday dinner. Thanks for yesterday, by the way," she added.

"Oh, it was mostly Sam who arranged it all," Rose insisted, and Janey's heart gave a lurch at the mention of his name.

"Oh." It was all she could say.

"Is everything okay, Janey?" Rose suddenly asked, noticing the girl's sad disposition. "With… you and Sam?"

Janey considered lying, but she knew Rose would never drop it if she did. "We had an argument," she decided to say. It wasn't strictly true, but she wasn't going to confess what had actually happened between them. "After everybody else went home."

"About what?"

Janey waved a dismissive hand. "Nothing, really. You know what we're like. It was just a silly disagreement," she said vaguely.

"But you're okay?" Rose asked, looking more concerned than Janey felt was necessary.

"I don't know," Janey admitted. "He left pretty angrily, and he hasn't spoken to me since."
"You should reach out to him," Rose suggested.

Janey just shook her head. "No. It has to be him first."

She felt for sure that Rose was going to press her for more information, but, to her surprise, the redhead remained silent.

"I don't know when I'm going to see him again."

"Why don't we arrange something as a group?" Rose suggested. "It would take some of the pressure off, maybe? He probably just needs some time to cool off." She raised her eyebrows at Janey. "You're both like that."

Janey wanted to bite back but held her tongue. Rose wasn't wrong, after all. "I don't know," she mumbled. It probably would be best to see Sam for the first time in a more casual group setting so as to alleviate some of the initial awkwardness, but she didn't want to push Rose into anything. Sam might have different views, after all, and resent her for not wanting to speak to him privately first. "Can you make sure it comes from you?" Janey asked desperately.

"Of course," Rose said kindly. "Why don't I speak to James, and we can all go to the beach again? Maybe even tomorrow?"

Janey's stomach did a flip. She was reluctant to see Sam so soon again, but she also knew an even longer extended period of not seeing him or not speaking to him would be even worse. The anticipation of prolonging the inevitable would kill her.

"That could work," she agreed. "If everyone else is up for it."

Rose smiled. "I'm sure they will be."

Janey partially wondered if Rose's enthusiasm to get them all together again was so that she could see Scorpius without it raising questions. Not that any of them cared, despite what Rose and Scorpius themselves may have thought.

"And you'll be able to apparate yourself," Rose said brightly.

"I'll miss holding your hand," Janey teased.

Rose smiled once more, and then her eyes widened as she clearly remembered something. "Janey, I've been meaning to ask you—what ever happened to the message paper you made for when we went to Rosewood?"

Janey thought back to the parchment she had enchanted before their group of friends had embarked on their crazy adventure before the summer. It had taken her a while to perfect, finding the correct spells to make it work how she intended, but sure enough, she had been able to create two separate pieces of parchment which could both be written on and read by both recipients. A way to communicate instantly and privately. She had no idea why this was or had been on Rose's mind. She shrugged in response. "I don't know, I'm guessing it got lost in the woods or it burnt up in the fire."

"Do you think you could recreate it?"

"Sure… But why?"

"Bobbin was asking," Rose explained. "Before we left Hogwarts—she said it had really big potential for use in the wizarding world. Quicker than owls, that's for sure."

"Wizarding DMs,'" Janey mused. "You guys really should just get on social media."

Rose frowned, clearly confused.

"Never mind," Janey dismissed. "But sure, I'm certain I could."

"It would also help a lot for all of us to communicate over the summer, so I don't have to keep going to everybody's house myself," Rose said with a grin, but Janey knew she rather enjoyed it. Rose would be seeing Sam in person then, she assumed. She wondered how much either of them would say about her.

"Yeah," Janey said vaguely, now once more dreading her reunion with Sam.

"Well," Rose concluded. "That's all sorted then—I'll keep you updated on the plans for tomorrow."

"Thanks, Rose," Janey said, glad she had decided to come after all.

"I hope you enjoy dinner with your dad." Rose offered one last smile, her eyes full of sad encouragement. "And I hope things go okay between you and Sam."

"Me too," Janey mumbled. And with that, she set to depart.

Author's Note: Title and epigraph inspired by Pixie Lott's 'Jack'