The crowded stadion excites most of those present, and the rows are tinted in warm orange by the first rays of sun on this match morning. Still I wish I could head back into the cold, dark catacombs again – but I need answers.

"You genuinely hate this, don't you," Rouvenia wonders while maneuvering me into the stands. "Are you still as annoyed by noise as you used to be in Herbology?"

"I am," I groan. "Though in my defense, absolutely no one likes screaming Mandragoras …"

"No, but you'd become apathetic even."

"Tends to cause migraines," I hear myself say. "Do you see anyone?"

"I see everyone. The question is, who are you looking for?"

"Leonora."

Rou nods and keeps an eye out with me.

I know I need to just mentally block out the rancourously loud chanting and cheering – more like bawling – of those euphoric Quidditch fans. But, heavens, I wish I could cleanse this frenzy by fire.

And yet I swallow the sensory overload and pause just when I notice Harper in the Slytherin stands.

I guess I'm lucky. She's standing right next to Leonora and Hagrid. The three of them are likely cheering on Elliott …

"Found her," I mumble.

"Oh, good." Rou winks. "I'll go find Avery then …"

"Avery?"

She hesitates and gulps, a little taken aback. "Yeah, I quite like him, haven't you noticed yet?"

A little puzzled, I say, "What about your cousin at Durmstrang?"

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

"Ah." I force myself to shrug. "Well then – give my regards to Avery …"

"I certainly won't." She grins before she dives into the crowd, making my gaze automatically wander back to Harper.

Her hair is reflected by the sunlight, it's annoyingly cheesy, and just as though it was a tie, the blue and silver scarf around her neck hangs completely loose …

Why do my organs tighten, why does seeing her make my skin crawl?
I just want to have her close – and yet we are miles apart.

I stoically shake all that off to concentrate. At least until I notice the smell of coffee behind me. Nott has apparently just organised himself two cups from the stand behind the towers.
Perfect.

"Right time, right place," I tell him, looking at the cups as he tries to hurry past me.

"Tom, I … I had to queue for ages to get these, you don't really want to –"

"I very much do." I give him a regretful smile. "But you wouldn't mind, would you?"

He minds. He hates me and takes a deep breath before he hands me the cups, well aware of his lack of options.

"Too kind of you," I lie, but he's already pouting.

"You know, Tom, for always saying I shouldn't be treated like a doormat, you're the person that makes me feel like one the most."

I blink twice, even ever so briefly considering to let that go through my head, but no. I definitely can't provide emotional capacity for complaints from Nott.

"Then next time," I say, "don't let me take your coffee just because of a deep look."

He raises his chin defiantly.

"That's it, see? You could be good, Nott, with a little more confidence …"

"Yeah, but you'll never be," he bitterly states in all seriousness, even with a tiny hint of courage in his voice. Then he walks back to the coffee stand …

I can't be good.
Well, at least he's accepted it – ground-breaking.

But the end still justifies the means for me and so, for better or worse, I'm off to Canossa with nothing but two cups of coffee in my hands.

"Hagrid, ladies," I greet as I brazenly pass Rubeus to come to a halt right between Harper and Leonora.

"Hello, Tom!" Hagrid's the only one to welcome me.

He's a good one, truly. While the other two are as hostile as can be, he's just plain and polite.

"Coffee?" I offer like a saint.

Leonora leans over the balustrade of old, dark wood to give Harper a demonstratively irritated glance.

And she just shrugs her shoulders with a dirty look. All meant for me. "What are you doing here?"

She's simply adorable, even if this thought of mine would probably just make her more furious …

"It's the Slytherin stand, Harper, and I happen to be a Slytherin," I answer and let my gaze wander over the pitch and crowd in supposed interest just before I glance back at her. "Ravenclaw's over there, shouldn't you join … what's his name, Dean Hornby? Heard you two love to watch Quidditch together."

"Shouldn't you," she acidly whispers, "be in the Chamber of Secrets doing completely unholy things?"

I press my lips together and then force myself to smile. "Touché."

"Drink your coffee yourself," she grumbles, even though I can see exactly how much she'd like to have it.

"Fine, Hagrid?" I eagerly turn around. "May I offer you a cup of coffee then?"

He cheerfully nods, utterly pleased as I hand him the cup.

Harper has a hard time hiding her anger. And yet I look to my left, holding the second cup directly under Leonora's nose.

"Ms Greene," I say, as rueful as I can manage, "my recent behaviour is hardly excusable and I know it – but I'm genuinely sorry I let my bad temper rise."

She looks at me and seems a little overwhelmed. "Is that … an apology? Tom Riddle apologizes?"

"Apparently, and I also involve coffee to play it safe," I confirm and point to the cup again. "It doesn't get much better …"

"That's the one thing I wouldn't doubt, yes," Harper mumbles.

I'm fully aware that she knows I just want something, and that she, in particular, deserves an apology of an entirely different calibre. That's probably why she eyes me in utmost hostility.

"Leonora," I gallantly proceed nonetheless, "will you forgive me?"

Putting her hands on her hips she hesitates. "Elliott doesn't want to talk to you, you just want me to put in a good word for you, right?"

I haven't even thought of that option since I'm clearly not that good of a friend. But now that she mentions it, I can at least pretend.

"I'd appreciate if you did that, but my primary concern was to apologise indeed. Life's but a lesson and we're all evolving, aren't we?"

She nods, visibly startled before grabbing her coffee. "All right. That's … nice of you." She finally takes a sip while Harper just snorts in exasperation.

"The wonders dragon pox can work, huh?" She won't look at me any longer, only regarding Leonora. "Excuse me, I promised Dean I'd join him after a few minutes."

"Oh, you really did?" I hear myself tease. "So I was right after all."

"You're rarely ever wrong, Riddle, aren't you?" She frowns. "And since you've always believed him to be right about everything concerning you, I gathered it couldn't hurt to stick to a Ravenclaw with that much better talents to judge a character. Besides, he's very nice to me. A gentleman, so to speak."

She really enjoys how much I hate hearing her pretty mouth form these words, yet all too soon she breaks away and waves goodbye to Leonora to disappear into the crowd.

"She's mad at you, Tom," Hagrid states, immediately clearing his throat as though he'd regret that remark.

"Rubeus, your extraordinary observation skills do amaze me, but aren't you actually … busy?"

He gives me a questioning look, but when I tilt my head, it dawns on him.

"Oh, no, I've already gotten everything organised so I can watch the game today." He smiles. "Everything's ready by lunchtime."

I raise a brow, genuinely surprised. "Well done then."

"Can we talk about Harper now?" Leonora sighs. "Tom, whatever you've done," she says, raising her index finger, "I've never seen her so angry. She tries not to show it, but she … she's really hurt. What happened between you?"

I just wave it off as the two seekers rush past us in lightning speed. But I quickly change my mind. I do want to gossip. "What is it with her and Hornby?"

Leonora rolls her eyes and takes another sip of coffee. Then she admits, "Dean's always had a crush on her … Maybe she should've been to the Yule Ball with him back then."

"Likely so."

"Tom," Leonora urges, "that was irony! You were such a beautiful couple! That photograph of you – you know, the one from Witch Weekly –"

"I remember," I groan. "How would I not …"

"You remember, but then what's wrong with you?"

"Oh, look!" I say in sudden astonishment. "Elliott just outsmarted one of your brother's friends with a brillant move."

"He's good, isn't he?" she chuckles. "Raymond's going to hate that …"

"No one will talk about Raymond ever again," I think out loud, catching myself grinning as Elliott shoots across the pitch, his chest swelling with pride for good reason. "He's clearly no longer the best player."

She beams, visibly proud of Elliott, then she loses her smile again. "Tom, Ell … he missed you. A lot …"

"Yeah, thought so, too," Hagrid agrees. "Oh – sorry," he immediately adds given my irritated glare, "I'll be quiet …"

I know Elliott missed me, but hearing it … It makes me look at Leonora again.

"He kept saying how odd it was that you weren't there. Don't break everyone's heart, Tom."

I eventually nod.

"What's bothering you? Come on, something's bothering you!"

A true Hufflepuff can hardly resist a sentimental story. So now, if I continue to act as though I open up, I might get my answers.

"You know, while I was sick and thought I was going to … die …" I look at her briefly and see how the drama is actually serving its purpose. "That's when I tried to distract myself. I was reading books –"

"As you always do," she giggles.

"Yes, as always …" I shrug my shoulders. "Anyway, I came across a book about runes and suddenly … I felt so … ignorant, and at the same time too young to even grasp the dimensions and meaning of that ancient symbolism. The interpretation is like art and I had to admit to myself that I still have so much to learn, so much knowledge to chase … And suddenly I feared it might simply be impossible for me to ever be satisfied. So in a way, I'm rethinking my whole life right now."

"That's never wrong," Leonora says. "And yes – runes are upsetting. I'm thinking about them a lot at the moment. It's interesting that you call it art …"

"I suppose it's comparable to reading faces," I reply. "Any look may mean the world if you can just see it. I've always had my difficulties with that …"

"Maybe you never learnt that as an orphan?" she suggests. "Because as a child you lacked … well … closeness?"

"Did you get that from Harper?"

She uneasily nods as I take a deep breath.

"Might be true …"

"Runes can be confusing," she eagerly confirms. "Just like … interpersonal relationships."

"Leonora, listen – at the risk of you assuming I was just apologising to you to bring up this subject – if you really are into runes right now, would you perhaps take a look at these and interpret them for me?"

She grabs my little parchment note straight away, but still looks up at me at first, as though I had to give her more context.

"I discovered them in a book that argues that understanding the meaning of these runes is essential for spiritual growth."

"And you want to grow spiritually?" she gently asks.

I nod. Like the liar that I am.

Yet she smiles and mumbles half aloud as she begins.

"Well, the first sign is Dagaz. It could symbolize the inner light here."

Bull's eye. The light symbolises the soul.

"The second sign, Hagalaz," she continues, "could possibly stand for … transformation in this context?"

"Interesting," I say and nod for her to continue.

"Yes, and Eiwaz in the third place probably stands for … magic? And Berkana, fourth, probably for birth. Lastly, Nauthiz … Well, that might stand for … shadows?"

"Beginning with light, ending in shadows?"

She nods indecisively. "But if you ask me, that's not about spiritual growth – more about …"

I watch at her intently.

"More about a kind of change from light to darkness. Magical transformation from light to rebirth in darkness? Does that make any sense?"

"I may have written down the wrong runes – it all still looks pretty much the same to me …"

She immediately smiles with relief. "Yes, many are very similar, especially at the beginning."

She hands the parchment back to me, then, already on my way out of the stands, I ask, "Would you tell Elliott that he's playing really nice Quidditch?"

"Yes, but – where are you going now?"

"Just remembered I forgot something. See you later, Hagrid. And thank you, Leonora!"

"Since when are you grateful for anything?"

Why does that make everyone so suspicious …

All the world is watching the match, so I guess I'm undisturbed to run errands in Hogsmeade. Mr Tadpole from the post office surely finds candles and paint for the floor somewhere in his illegal department …