DISCLAIMERS: I own nothing of the Harry Potter Universe except the characters I have created and shamelessly written into the story we all know and love. I make no profit from this story.
This story is rated M for a reason. Mostly, mature sexual content, but for violence, language, and other adult situations as well. If you don't like, don't read. Also, please see my Author's note at the end.
XXX
"You're late." said Professor Moody as I hurried into the deserted classroom.
"I'm sorry, Professor! It won't happen again." I apologized quickly.
"You're damn right, it won't, Wendling!" He shouted,"Do you know why you're here? Do you even care?" It was obvious he expected an answered when he whipped around to face me as I approached.
"Of course, I care, Professor. These lessons are very important to me."
"That's your problem right there." He said through clenched teeth, his nostrils flaring.
"Sir?"
"You're viewing this as any other lesson. School and books!" He growled, "What I'm teaching you here, what you're supposed to be learning, is more important than anything you could learn in any book! It's life and death! And if you don't pay attention, it'll be the latter for you!" He finished with a disgruntled huff.
After a moment of staring down at my shoes in shame, my head snapped back up again when he spoke again. I didn't want to give him another reason to yell at me. It seemed he already had plenty to choose from.
"Now, let's see if you remembered anything you learned last week." He said, and before I could blink or prepare myself, his wand was pointed at my face
A calm washed over me. I had an overwhelming urge to tell Professor Moody what Dumbledore and I discussed in our own meetings. Even though he cast the spell nonverbally, I knew he had cast and Imperius curse.
Those meetings are private. I told the intruding voice, although it was difficult and even painful to do so.
Tell me. The voice commanded.
No.
"No. No. No. No. No." I became conscious somewhere between the fourth and fifth 'no'. I stood staring straight into the madly swirling eye of Professor Moody.
"Well, well, well. All hope is not lost then! You might have learned something after all." Moody said his generous form of a compliment. Then, too quick to even know if it really existed, the hint of a smile vanished and his face returned serious as he spoke again, "Let's focusing on dueling now. Wands at the ready."
I fumbled with my cloak, trying to get it get to the breast pocket where I had my wand stashed away.
"Quick, girl! Wand out!"
Why did this have to happen to me now, in front of him?
"This is a disgrace, Wendling! If I actually meant to curse you, you'd be dead already!" He bellowed, stopping only once my wand was out and pointed in his face. "Now then proper duel procedure, meaning that I will not warn you of my attack, so be ready! Constant Vigilance!"
We backed up the standard ten paces and turned to face each other, wands at the ready. The effect was rather unsettling, as he stared me down, his entire face focused and blank but his magical eye still whizzed around, surveying the room. A slight twitch of his wrist was the only indication of the spell he cast, giving me barely enough time to cast a hurried shield charm. It was barely enough, but it served its purpose.
He lifted his want to strike again, but I had cast another shield charm before the spell could reach me.
"I know I've taught you more than a bloody shield charm!" He chastised, continuing to cast hexes at my impenetrable shield charm.
I thought that should be impressive enough, but more important it felt wrong to hex a professor. Now, if it had been Snape on the other hand….
"Wendling!"
I reacted immediately, casting the first offensive spell I could think of, "Appungo!"
"Birds?! Bloody birds, Wendling!"
"I'm sorry, Professor!" I cried.
"Dead!" He yelled so loudly I let my protective shield drop in favor of covering my ears. "You would be dead if I was a Death Eater!"
"I'm sorry!"
"AND STOP SAYING YOU'RE SORRY!"
I wanted to apologize for that, but it would defeat the purpose. I nodded my head and looked down at my clasped hands, frowning when I realized they were shaking.
"Sit here." He demanded, pointing at a nearby desk.
I didn't dare protest as he turned his back and wandered over to the bookshelf, where he began combing through the dusty coverings of ancient books so thick even Hermione would be intimidated. After what had felt like a decade, he returned with the most decrepit volumed. It was so worn the name was not legible anymore.
"Now that it is painfully evident how unprepared you are a for a duel, I think it pertentant for you to add more suitable spells to your arsenal. I want you to take this book and make me a list of all the spells that most peak your interest. If you feel daring enough to attempt one, I encourage it. If not, we will be studying them in our next meeting. Let's say Tuesday. Seven sharp."
"Yes, professor." I said taking the book from him, fearful it would disintegrate in the exchange.
"Very well, Wendling. I suggest you read that book carefully. I will be more than disappointed if our next duel is anything like that monstrosity. You can go."
I didn't need to be told twice.
Even though it was the middle of the day, and the halls were far from deserted, I couldn't help but walk quickly back to Gryffindor tower, looking over my shoulder frequently. I let out a sigh of relief upon seeing the Fat Lady's portrait and then became embarrassed when I realized I was not alone.
"All right, Andi?" Harry Potter chuckled as he approached the portrait from the opposite direction.
"Oh, yeah. Just happy to be 'Home'"," I laughed, physically embracing the word "home" in air quotes.
"I know what you mean." He grumbled, casting a forlorn glance at the egg tucked under his arm.
"Still no luck, then?"
"No." He huffed, glaring accusingly down at the glittering gold.
"Well, I'm sure you'll get it. You still have loads of time!" I assured him.
"Try telling Hermione that."
"Ah, well. You know Hermione. She likes the stay on top of things."
"That's one way of putting it." He mumbled, his tone making the point he hadn't actually said-that it was a rather nice way of putting it.
"Hey, I know she's got your best interests at heart. She's just a little overzealous."
"Yeah." Harry shrugged.
Sensing the death of the conversation, I quickly changed the subject. "You're going to Snape's tomorrow, right?"
"Uh, yeah?" He asked, obviously confused.
"I am, too!" I replied brightly.
"You are?"
"Yup! Remedial potions. 8:00 pm sharp!"
"Remedial potions? But you're great at potions!"
"Yeah, well. This year I've been a bit distracted and you know how Snape likes to pick on us Gryffindors."
Ahem. "Should I wait here patiently all day for the password?" The Fat Lady interrupted.
"Mimbulus Mimbletonia." Harry said.
"Thank you." She said crisply, swinging open to let us in. The moment I crossed through the threshold, she snapped the portrait hole shut, nearly trapping the end of my cloak.
"Well then!" I cried indignantly.
"I wonder what's got her britches in a bunch." Harry mused.
"I think she's lost it since Sirius Black did a number of her last year."
"Yeah, probably." Harry laughed weakly. "Anyway, Andi. I've got to go. See you tomorrow night." He said quickly, hurrying up the staircase before I could say anything else.
Shaking my head to myself, I headed up to my own dorm, which I was unsurprised to find deserted. The growl of the wind outside beckoned me to the windowsill to see its violent yet delicate dance with the leaves. However, the sight of the thousands of leaves whipping by in the December air. Far below on the ground were two figures scurrying off in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. A particularly strong gust of wind knocked the woolen hat off of one of them, revealing a full head of vibrant red hair. He quickly replaced the hat on his head, but the damage was already done.
It was undeniably Fred and George, yet the motives for their outing remained a mystery. I tried not to get upset or feel excluded. I truly did, yet still I could feel the tears forming.
I stood there silently, watching them disappear at the forest line, then I used the advantage of being alone to slap myself in the face and get over it. I had work to do. I would not be prepared in a duel again and I would make Mad-eye quit his bitching, but I couldn't do that from here. I couldn't do that while freaking out over nothing. George was entitled to spend time with whoever he pleased and he didn't have to tell me about it or ask my permission. I had no reason to be upset, other than at myself for not thinking of a better offensive spell than "appungo".
I emptied my bag of everything except the book Professor Moody gave me, parchment, a bottle of ink and my quill, knowing that I would leave the Library with more books than I could possibly carry. While Fred and George were out doing god-knows what I would be working. I would use my unreasonably restless feelings to my advantage by throwing myself into my work. At least these spells would be useful one way or another down the line. At the very, very, least it would be more pleasant than completing the essay for Snape I had been dreading and therefore putting off since it was assigned last week. I pushed that thought from my brain. I thought about what I wanted to focus on-making sure the next time I faced Moody I would win.
I reached the library still caught in a daze of self-righteous determination. I felt like I could on anything, or that I would perhaps like to take on anything. Do anything to release the tremendous amount of stress stil pressing down on my shoulder blades, sending radiations of panic down my spinal cord.
I kept my eyes straight ahead, not looking at anything but the direct path in front of me-the path that lead to the most secluded section of the second floor. I couldn't be distracted by anyone. I needed to focus because the minute I stopped my mind was free to wander. Given the events of the last few weeks, I wasn't sure I wanted to see where my thoughts would take me.
I piled my stuff onto the most remote desk in the very back corner, before going to scour the Defense Against the Dark Arts section for anything that could be remotely helpful. Defensive and Offensive Spells by Rufus Webber was the first to catch my eye.
It happened the moment I touched its weathered binding. A flash, and it was gone. The image remained seared into my vision for several ever-lasting seconds. A smoky fog illuminated by green and red flashes of light.
I raised a tentative hand to tough the offending book, but nothing happened the second or third time, so I quickly snatched the book off the shelf with shaking hands and scurried back to my desk.
This little incident was not helping my focus or my nerves, yet I was determined not to let it derail my efforts for productivity. I opened the book to a page of the book Mad-Eye gave me and began copying. List-making always was a favorite way of procrastination. I looked at the page and smiled. It was an alphabetical list of spells discussed in the book with a brief description and page number. I grabbed my quill and began with "A".
"Alarte Ascendare - shoots target high in air
Anteoculatia - hex. Turns person's hair to antlers.
Aqua Eructo - create and control clear jet of water
Calvario - causes victim's hair to fall out
Colloshoo - adheres victims shoes to ground
Conjunctivitis
Defodio- gauge large chunks out of a target
Diffindo - severing charm
Diminuendo - forces target to shrink
Everte Statum - throws victim backward
Fianto Duri - defensive charm to strengthen shield charm
Flipendo - physically repel opponent
Fumos - create offensive cloud of dark, grey smoke
Impedimenta - slows down target's advances
Incarcerous - ties someone up with ropes
Lacarnum Inflamarae - Produces balls of fire
Reducto - Breaks objects
Steleus - causes target to sneeze for a short period of time
Ventus - strong blast of wind"
I knew that half of these would not be helpful to me in a deal with Moody but I wrote them down anyway as a way to extend my list making.
"Aren't you suddenly the model student." A voice broke my concentration. My initial glare softened upon seeing Elliott and he noticed. "Expecting someone else?"
"No. Wasn't expecting anyone at all."
"What are you working on so diligently?" Elliott prompted, glancing over at the page of messy scrawl.
"Spells."
"Really? Spells? At this fine establishment of Witchcraft and Wizardry? Who would think of such a thing?"
"Offensive spells, so watch it." I retorted.
"Can I sit with you?"
"I don't know, can you?"
"Very clever." Elliott scoffed, sitting down across from me.
"I see that you are still shaken from last night." He stated casually, looking up at the title of the book I was still holding.
"What?" I said stupidly before realizing that's exactly what it must look like to him. "Oh, yeah. I guess a little." I finished without a hope of grace.
"'You guess'? Whatever else would you need severing and disembowelment spells for?" Elliott asked with mild alarm.
"You can never know too much or be too prepared."
"Tell me again why you aren't in Ravenclaw?"
"My bravery and chivalry set me apart." I rattled off a textbook response with a sly grin.
"...or a Slytherin."
"You watch your mouth before I wash it out for you, Elliott Jack Napier!" I pointed my wand at him for good measure, so he knew I meant it.
"Calm down. It was only a joke!"
"Not a funny one."
"I suppose you would know." The edge in his voice unmistakable.
"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"
"You know." He mumbled, barely loud enough for me to hear him.
"I really don't think I do." I did. I just didn't want to confirm it.
"Being best friends with the Weasley Twins, I'd've thought you'd pick up a few things over the years." He said said hesitantly.
"Why does everyone think that?" I sighed.
"Think what?"
"That they're the only ones doing the teaching and I'm the only one doing the learning." His puzzled look encouraged me to explain myself. "'I have a good sense of humor, too, you know."
"Oh, trust me. I know."
"You do?" I raised a disbelieving eyebrow at his enthusiastic answer.
"I've only been your potions parter for the last six years."
"Speaking of which, have you started that essay for Snape?"
"You mean the dreadfully long and dreadfully boring one on all the uses of toad spleens?" He squinted, as if trying to see into the future.
"That would be the one."
"Haven't thought much of it, wouldn't care to."
"Tell me again, why are you in Ravenclaw?" I jested, physically feeling the mood lighten while doing so.
"'Wit beyond measure', If I do recall correctly, says nothing about procrastination tendencies serving as a determining factor for my house placement."
"Thankfully, that extends to all house placements, because I haven't started either."
"We really should get started." He chastised himself as much as he did me. "Care to work together?"
"What happened to not thinking about it and liking it that way?"
"Well, I'm allowed to change my mind, aren't I?"
"Of course...it was more of a question really."
"Two minds work quicker than one," he answered, making himself perfectly comfortable on my side of the table in the secluded section of library people rarely visited.
"Well, if you do insist." scoffed, pushing my preferred reading material to the side to make room for the cumbersome potions book.
"I do, indeed." He snickered. "Now, chop chop. I haven't got all night."
But for someone who didn't "have all night", Elliott certainly had enough time to engage in hours worth of chit-chat and pointless sidetracking debates, namely how he wasn't convinced Harry had it in him to complete the tournament.
"Honestly. Hasn't the poor kid already proven he's got what it takes?" I sighed, growing tired of hearing criticism of Harry Potter and this damn tournament. "Not even just with the dragons, but all the other stuff before. I mean seriously, how different is a dragon from a basilisk?"
"Passionate about this are you?" Elliott raised an amused eyebrow.
"I mean, I guess."
"Something you care to tell me? Or George, rather?" That eyebrow never fell, nor did the slightly accusatory and inquisitorial smirk.
"No! No, don't be ridiculous! It's nothing like that at all!" I exclaimed, unable to contain my laughter at the idea, once I finally pieced together what he was suggesting.
"Really? Your valiant defense of Harry's abilities suggest otherwise." He teased.
"I'm just tired of hearing about how he's going to fail and die. No one's going to die." But even as I said the words, I didn't have complete confidence in them. The doubt in the back of my mind resembled the flash of green that caused it.
"They have in the past." Elliott countered.
"Yeah, but you don't think Dumbledore will allow someone to die, would he?"
"No, there's no doubt that he'll be taking all measures against that."
"Then what?" I asked, telling he was holding back.
"Well, you said it yourself. There are death eaters everywhere. The World Cup proved that."
"So now you do believe that there are still active death eaters, then?"
"I never said anything about doubting their existence, just the presence of their former master.
"Ah," I said, "That's where we disagree."
"You don't believe-"
"Yes, I do." I answered before he could even finish. "It was only a matter of time before he returned."
"And you believe what happened at the Quidditch cup was-"
"A sign of that, yes." I answered, nodding fervently.
"And you don't think it was a bunch of death eaters who had too much to drink?" He suggested.
"No, I don't. At least, that's not all. Something made those death eaters both excited and secure enough that they risked coming out of hiding."
"You think it was because you-know-who returned?"
"Yes. I don't think there's any other explanation. He's back." I sighed, knowing it to be true as I said it.
"But how do you know that? How could you possibly know?" Elliott objected.
"I can feel it."
"How does that even make sense?"
"It doesn't, but I can't explain it any better." Some secrets were better kept.
"But-"
"Let's get back to the essay, yeah?" I changed the topic abruptly, looking down at my long forgotten parchment. "It was your idea after all."
"Yeah, okay, but this conversation isn't over." He said begrudgingly, picking up his disregarded quill.
We were able to carry on uninterrupted for a good ten minutes before the incessant giggling from the table of fourth year Hufflepuffs broke our concentration. They were gushing about the upcoming Ball, going on and on about their dates and dress. Completely unaware that their conversation were making the tension between Elliott and I grow thicker with each breath.
Finally, Elliott broke the silence but I wish he hadn't. "Are you prepared for the ball?"
"No, I'm afraid I'll be stuck with those fourth years and all the other last minute shippers." I grimaced, already feeling claustrophobic.
He chuckled. Then feeling the death of the conversation, he prodded. "And what color will you be wearing?"
"Oh, um. I'm not really sure yet." I admitted, suddenly feeling subconscious about that fact. His tone implied that I should already know the answer, making me blurt out the first thing that came to mind, before I could think about it. Then, more than anything I wish I could take it back. "George is wearing black dress robes, so any color will do, I suppose."
He handled the blow well. "I know you'll look beautiful no matter what you're wearing."
"Elliott-"
"Is it five already? I really must be going." He said quickly, practically jumping up from his seat while tossing his papers into this bag.
"Elliott, you don't have to-"
"I'm afraid I do. I am meeting a friend before dinner. Mustn't be late."
"Well, at least let me walk you out. I have to get going too. Too much time in the library makes me go crazy." I handed Elliott back his potions book and then scooped all of my belongings into the back with on sweeping motion. "Let's go."
"Aren't you taking those?" He pointed to the stacks of books I had been looking at before he arrived.
"Nah, no need." Truthfully, I knew I'd be back later but I was also cutting it close with my own appointment with Dumbledore.
The few steps from the table to the hall stretched on at a painfully slow pace. It felt like we had been walking for miles. When we reached the doors Elliott called a quick "Cheers" over his shoulder before scampering off to his dinner plans. Unoffended, I didn't have time for any sort of drawn out goodbyes either. I had to sprint all the way to the Headmaster's office to make it on time.
"Lemon Drops." I wheezed, chiding myself for my loss of breath, bullying myself to start running again once the snow had cleared.
The gargoyle guarding the entrance jumped out of the way, revealing the staircase. Halfway through letting myself up, I heard a muffled "Come in". I was surprised to find Dumbledore not at his desk. Instead he was bent over one of his mysterious magic objects kept in his cupboard.
"Hello, Professor." I said timidly approaching him when he did not look up from whatever it was he was doing.
"Good evening, Miss Wendling. I trust that your lesson with Professor Moody went well?"
Deciding he'd figure out anyway, I went with the truth. "Not exactly."
This caused him to finally look up. The stern look in his eyes and tone in his voice made me wish he hadn't. "No?"
"He wanted me to duel him." I defended myself. I thought it would explain it all, but clearly it didn't.
Dumbledore tone still had an edge as he chided, "Andrella, your lessons with all your professors are extremely important-"
"But he's a professor! I can't hurt him!"
"That is certainly true; you shouldn't harm your professors, but as I was saying" He paused, making it perfectly clear he had not overlooked my interruption. "You must follow their instruction, however difficult or unconventional you find them to be. You need to absorb everything they have to teach you; you never know what may save you life.
"Professor Moody happens to be one of the most skilled aurors that has ever lived. Although his methods may seem strange to you, if he wants you to duel him, then by all means give him your all. Surely he can take it. But Andrella, you must not show anyone but myself-and the Weasley Twins-your more unique abilities. I fear it would be dangerous to allow the true magnitude of your powers known."
"But Sir, don't the other professors know already?"
"No one but myself and the ones that you have told know about your true nature." Dumbledore said. "I have told the other professors that you are simply performing at a higher level and that your course load should reflect this. That is all they need to know at this moment
"However, a lecture is not why I have asked you to come to my office tonight. I am afraid we have more pressing matters still."
"Professor?" I prompted when he did not continue.
"You asked me once about what I knew about the Ismerte and I did tell you most of what I know, but not all." He spoke evenly, but with a subtle urgency. As if he couldn't wait to make his point, but he knew it was important that I understand everything he was about to say. "But, of course, maybe it is best if you know everything after all. What good is it to keep the truth from you?"
"Sir?" I asked hesitantly, unable to follow his train of thought.
"Forgive me, Andrella." He sighed, looking at me as if just remembering I was there. "What I mean to say is that I have something to show you. Surely you remember the pensive?" He indicated the instrument sitting in the cabinet before them.
"Yes." I said, forced to remember the events which caused me to learn about the mysterious device's purpose.
"Do not be wary, Miss Wendling. We will be exploring my memories tonight, not yours." He added with a chuckle, instantly pulling me out of my darkening headspace.
"Oh," I said, already happier.
"Yes, but I'm afraid t is a memory you must be prepared for." Dumbledore warned.
"'Prepared for'?"
"Yes, Andrella. It also requires a special set of rules to ensure the safety of others, as well as yourself."
"Okay." I replied, unable to connect the dots between the pensive sitting between me and this set of rules.
"Let's sit." He mused, indicating the chair I usually took. He gently picked up the pensive and set it down on his desk. Now, I was worried.
"Professor?"
"How are your divination lessons with Professor Trelawney going?" He asked suddenly.
"Divination?" I repeated, completely lost by the abrupt change of subject. "Okay, I guess."
"Only okay? Have you not had anymore visions?" The sternness of his tone was unmistakable and I was sure I was in for a repeat performance of his previous lecture.
"No, I have. In her class a few weeks ago!" I told him about the graveyard and the green flash. His face remaining calm the whole time I was speaking, until finally, finally he said something.
"Andrella, I do not think I can stress this enough, but given your nature, I believe divination is the most important skill to master. You are having these visions for a reason and it is your job to understand what they are trying to show you.
"Furthermore, I hope you are giving Professor Trelawney your full attention. She deserves your full respect. She can teach you far more than you realize. In fact, that is what I would like to discuss."
"It is?"
"Yes, I suppose it is time. But I must make sure you understand that this is something I am discussing with all seriousness. What we will view tonight contains information that will be dangerous if it falls in the wrong hands. That is why I must make you swear you will never discuss what you will see tonight with anyone, not even Fred or George Weasley.
"Sir, I don't understand what Divination has to do with any of this or-"
"No, I was getting to that part."
"Sorry, Professor. I'm just so confused."
"I'm afraid what you are able to see might only confuse you further. But the truth must ring. Do you swear to never speak of what you will learn tonight?"
"Yes, Professor."
"Do I have your word, Andrella?"
"Yes, Professor. You have my word. I promise to not tell anyone," I swore my secrecy.
"Then as I was saying, Professor Trelawney deserves much more respect than she is given, however I must admit to be thankful of that fact. Although she is wise and has made quite a few accurate predictions, I think it best that no one know of these predictions, especially the one she made concerning you."
"Sir?"
"Come, hear it for yourself." He indicated the murky swirling matter collected in the basin. I took a deep breath before submerging my head and then I was tumbling to the floor.
Dumbledore followed a moment later, and quite used to the sensation, landed gracefully on his feet. It took awhile to adjust to the dim lighting, but after much squinting around I could make out that we were in the Hog's Head-one of Hogsmeade establishments, infamous for a shadier clientele. Further investigation lead me to see a much younger Dumbledore talking to an equally youthful Trelawney in a secluded corner that current Professor Dumbledore was leading me towards.
"Pay close attention to what she is about to say. Quick now, or we'll miss it." Dumbledore instructed. Coming closering I could see that Professor had a glazed over, faraway expression and her voice was thick as she began to croon,
"When the power of the world meets the power of the mind, a child will be born with all the secrets of the universe. Born of equal parts dark and light, the child will be born a blank slate. Blessed or cursed with powers as unknown to the bearer as to the world. Fate, flexible by will, will not shatter. Blood will spill blood. Upon a body ravaged by fire, returned to air, returned by the purest water, the power will be returned to earth. A revival to be defined by the reaction of the chosen, destined to permanently tip the balance."
"Andrella?" Dumbledore's gentle voice broke through my concentration. The sudden weight of his hand on my shoulder causing me to jump. "Shall we?"
"What? Oh, yeah. Yes." I mumbled, grabbing his hand just as the room began to spin in reverse.
Dumbledore kept his grip on me until I was steady enough to stand on my own. Immediately, I flopped onto the chair behind me and stared at no particular spot just beyond Dumbledore's left shoulder. I waited until he was sitting to ask. "So what does all that mean?"
"With prophecies, it's important to remember that one may never know what it means before it happens. However, that is not their intention. Their intention to teach, to warn."
"But warn against what? It sounded like a bunch of cryptic nonsense to me." I huffed.
"I'm surprised to hear that from you. Shocked to learn that you are not taking your divination studies more seriously. This prophecy is important and it can tell you very valuable information about yourself. But as I see this is getting us nowhere, I suppose there is not much more that I can tell you that you will be willing to listen to-"
"Professor, I'm-"
Dumbledore held up a hand to silence me and once I was, he continued speaking. "It was too much, too soon. In two days time, I will ask you to rejoin me after thinking on the words of the prophecy. Your assignment is to give them meaning."
"Okay, Professor." I said meekly, the disappointment in me hard to miss.
"Andrella?" He voice sounded as I shuffled to the door, figurative tail between my legs.
"Yes, professor?" I said, turning back around to face him.
"I hope you understand that I push you so hard not only for the greatness I know you are able to achieve, but for your own profection. Now, I think it's best you get some rest. Goodnight, Miss Wendling."
"Goodnight, Professor." I choked out, feeling more guilty than I had in a long time. I felt like I was five again and my dad caught me with a bag of lollies-a dentist's worst nightmare. I remember how disappointed my father had been, not because I had disobeyed him, but because knew how bad they were for my teeth. All he wanted to do was to protect them the best way he knew how.
All Dumbledore wanted to do was the same, protect me in the best way he knew how-education. He had told all the professors that I was too advanced and needed more direct lessons to address this. I knew I could be giving my school work more attention, and that I allowed myself to become distracted too easily. But I also knew that I could do this if I gave it my best efforts. I could show my professors I am good enough to warrant extra lessons, not of the remedial variety such as the ones Snape and Moody thought I actually deserved as more than a cover. I could make Dumbledore proud with my progress, so that I had long winded praises instead of lectures.
I could and I would, starting today.
Right now. Call me a stereotypical Gryffindor, but if you questioned my ability, I become determined to prove you wrong, simply because from the moment of doubt, nothing else would be more satisfying.
XXX
The immense shame I felt leaving Dumbledore's office followed me through the next few days. I poured myself shamelessly into my research. I only hoped I could redeem myself in Dumbledore's eyes. As I a result, I spent most of every free second available in the library or else devouring pages of textbook. The twins had started referring to me as "Mega-Hermione" it would be "mini" but I was six foot tall and towered over her, Fred confided in me. This caused me to throw a textbook at his face, summon it back and retreat to the library once more.
However, for better or for worse, I was never alone.
Elliott always managed to turn up when I was studying alone, and he also found a way to make it impossible to refuse his insistence to join me each time. Sensing I was serious about working, he didn't talk but remained there, silently pouring over his own work with the ghost of a smile on his face.
I didn't mind his being there, but something I did have to lie to keep the true nature of my sudden love for studying. I told myself it was best for everyone this way, especially for myself, and I generally believed it. Soon, I wasn't even concerned about how naturally the lies slid off my tongue.
I couldn't spend the time thinking about that or anything else for that matter; there wasn't time for anything that wasn't an offensive spell. Today was Wednesday and in half an hour I would be having the rematch Professor Moody ordered. I was determined to be ready. I needed to prove to myself that I could do this, that I would be ready next time anyone tried to ambush me.
I dived into my reading until Elliott tapped my shoulder, nearly scaring me off my chair. "Sorry, but don't you have to be somewhere now?"
"Bollocks!" I cursed, stuffing an array of book and parchment into my bag haphazardly. "Thanks for telling me! Gotta go! Bye!" I shouted over my shoulder already racing through the library, earning a stern reprimand from Madam pince who was nearly keeled over in shock. She managed to yell after me "Detention! Detention for weeks!" but I barely heard her.
I was sprinting, faster than I was even aware I could run. My legs should be burning, my lungs gasping, but I felt nothing by elation, like I was flying again. I checked that I wasn't, even though I could feel the floor barely touching my feet as it passed me by. Looking up, O was already at the door to the D.A.D.A. room and Professor Moody's chambers, not a second too soon. If I had needed to catch my breath, I wouldn't have had time, because opened the door and barely had time to doge the jinx hurdling at my face.
Looking around my shield charm, I saw Profesor Moody's mask crack as he grinned, "Very good." before he fired another spell. I threw my bag to the side and fully entered the room. I kept my eyes locked with his. My shield charm was impenetrable, proven by the rapid fire of hexes t withheld.
"Now, Miss Wendling. This will not be a repeat of last time." Moody growled his warning.
"No, It will not be." I assured him through clenched teeth, firing my first offensive spell that he blocked lazily.
"I hope you studied, Miss Wendling. I do not intent to take it easy on you, nor do I expect you to me."
"As you wish professor," I said, setting my face, collecting my calm.
"Stupefy!" I shouted, sending a jet of red across the room. Professor Moody deflected it easily, sending it back in my direction. My shield charm returned.
"Expelliarious!" I cried, hoping we could end the duel without having to really start.
"Stop telling me what you're going to do and just bloody do it!" He snapped, sending a silent hex my way. I only sidestepped in time.
I was afraid of losing control, of showing something I shouldn't, but I wasn't thinking about that now. I sent a tornado, with winds as vicious as the adrenaline pounding against my skull. I didn't need my want to do that either, but I needed to keep up appearances.
"Better!" Came his gruff reply as he blocked that as well, sending another hex and then another.
I left my shield up just long enough to think. Professor Moody opened his mouth but didn't get the chance to speak before he was doing all he could to doge my rampage of stunning and shocking spells. I didn't allow him time to fire back. I sent spell after spell; spells I knew but mostly the ones I spent slaving away to learn for this very moment.
He sent a spell under duress and I was just able to side step it, not relinquishing my wand to shield. I did the same with the next spell, but with the third I was not as lucky. The hext brushed my right elbow, which unfortunately for me was my wand arm. I ducked instinctively, dropping to the floor to retrieve my wand and avoid the furious round of curses sent to where I was standing only a second before. I clutched my want and pointed it back at Professor Moody before he or even I really realized what was coming-my body and magic were acting on instinct-my wand tip ignited and shot a devastating tornado that him full on and quickly consumed him.
I pulled myself up to shaking feet, memorized by what I had created without thought. I had expected to be pulled into it like last time, in my moment of panic, but it was controlled, concise, and neatly destructive. I caught a glimpse of a whizzing blue eye before I reclaimed focus of how that was my professor in there. I hastily undid the spell, and Professor Moody dropped to the ground. I was expecting a berating, seething lecture, a recommendation for expulsion, not maddening laughter.
"Well done, Wendling! Well done!" He cackled. "Now help an old man off the floor! Come on! Quickly now!"
I stumbled over and helped him back to his feet. Once standing, his grip remained on my shoulder until I finally resigned to meet his eye.
"Never, ever let me see you holding back on me or anyone else again!" Moody growled, "With skills like that you'd make a bloody good auror one day. But you must keep practicing and never back down again. Do you understand me?" I didn't answer and he shook me. "Do you understand me?!"
"Yes." I squeaked, more afraid now than any point during the duel.
"Good! Now, get out of here. Go get some lunch, but your paper on offensive spells better be done by Friday!"
"What paper, professor?" I asked dumbly, going over my mental calendar and coming up blank.
"The one I'm assigning right now! Three feet should do it!" Moody said, sounding more cheerful than the situation warranted, from my perspective at least.
I stood gaping like a fish. How would I find time to do all of that? Friday was only a day and a half away!
"Go! Get out! No excuses!" He barked, already heading to his chambers on the other side of the room.
Scrambling to do as instructed, I found my indignant rage motivating. But not to do work, but to do anything but work. I think it's been far too long since the twins and I did something truly counterproductive just for a laugh. As I set a quick pace toward the Great Hall, my mind whizzed through strategies to enhance whatever mischief we could drum up.
I found the twins sitting with Lee Jordan, all roaring in a fit of laughter. Mercifully, or perhaps quite planned, Lee sat next to Fred, allowing me to slid down into my place next to George.
"What's so funny then?" I asked, pouring myself some pumpkin juice before deciding what to eat. I was truly blessed by the quality of food here. Loading up on biscuits and roasted chicken, I vowed to visit the house elves responsible for such a fine meal to pay my respects.
I didn't miss the look they exchanged before George shrugged his shoulders, answering "Oh, nothing" with the most obvious faked nonchalance.
"You expect me to believe that?" I asked between bites of food.
"What? You don't trust us anymore?" Fred accused, putting on his best impersonation of a hysterically clingy girlfriend.
"What's this 'anymore' business? Whoever said I trusted you three fools?"
"Hey! What did I do?" Lee protested.
"You associate with them." I retorted.
"So do you!" Lee pointed out indignantly.
"I'm immune to their charm." When George cleared his throat pointedly, I cracked a smile, amending my statement, "Well, mostly."
"Can you not?" Fred groaned.
"Can we not what?" George asked, feigning naivety.
"Be so 'coupely'?" Fred finished, scrunching up his nose.
"You're just jealous." I laughed, not moving from my spot tucked into George's side.
"Am not. It's just annoying." Fred huffed, flipping overgrown hair out of his eyes.
"Whatever. You just need to loosen up and I've got the perfect idea." I smirked, not forgetting the reason I sought them out in the first place.
"Oh, really?" Fred asked, highly suspicious.
"Oh, yes. I think it's been far too long since we've done anything...rebellious lately." I choose my words carefully.
"And just what exactly did you have in mind?" George raised an eyebrow.
"We could go to Hogsmeade, to the Three Broomsticks." Seeing the look on their faces I quickly added. "I don't know. I just want to get away from the castle for a little while."
"You mean you don't have an evening of heavy unnecessary studying in the Library all planned out?" Fred teased.
"My studying is not unncessary! But I don't feel like it tonight. I wouldn't get anything done; I'm too restless." I admitted, the thought of spending another night in the library was unbearable.
"I might be able to help you with that." George whispered just loud enough for me to hear.
"See! This is exactly what I mean!" Fred exclaimed. "Lee, would you like to accompany me to any place that isn't here?"
"Surely." Lee replied with a wink in their direction before trailing behind Fred as he tore through Great Hall to get as far away from us as possible.
"So what do you say?" I asked, turning to George, giving him my best puppy-dog eyes.
"I don't know if that's the best idea, Drells." George pleaded, trying to avoid prolonged eye-contact.
"But it will be fun!" I whined, keeping my voice low down even though the closest people were at the opposite end of the table.
"I'm sure it would be, but Dumbledore specifically told us we couldn't be wandering around the castle after curfew."
"But we couldn't be in the castle so technically we wouldn't be breaking out promise!" I reasoned.
"Drells, you know that isn't how that works. In fact, it would be even worse." George replied, squeezing my hand as if to comfort me but it only irritated me. He was treating me like a child, but I held the responsibility of adults and I wanted to deal with it by using the preferred adult method of distraction and stress relief-copious alcohol consumption.
"Why tonight, of all nights, do you have to decide to actually care about breaking rules?" I sighed, knowing my case was lost.
"It's not rules I'm against breaking, it's promised to people I respect that I'm not willing to break." George said firmly, finally facing me. His voice softened as he asked, "What's going on? What happened with professor Moody?"
"We dueled-"
"Well, yeah, I figured as much."
I glared at him. "We dueled and I won."
"I'm not seeing the problem here." George prompted when it was clear I wasn't going to continue.
I stayed quiet for a second, trying to put the whirling mess of thoughts that churned in my mind into words he could understand. "Everyone is expecting so much out of me now, all of a sudden and all at once, and I don't know if I can give it to them. I don't know if I can be good enough and do it all."
"Let's go somewhere more private, yeah?" George said, his hand already on the small of my back, guiding me up.
I could feel a storm of tears ready to burst from my eyes if I slipped in my hold in even the slightest. I would not allow myself to be that weak, dammit. Thankfully, instead of a break down we looked like the mushy couple Fred accused us of being. George started to break me away as fast as he could without it being suspicious, again appearing eager to get away for another reason.
Finally, George pulled me into the opening in the hump of the one-eyed-witch statue, pushing me down the chute that lead to the secret passage out of the castle. Once we were both seated at the bottom, I didn't feel like getting up, much less going anywhere. I didn't even think I was capable of it.
George knew it, always so aware of what I needed. He wrapped me in his arms, hands smoothing my hair, lips kissing my ears, promising it would be okay, that he was right here.
Falling apart completely, I sobbed over and over again, "I can't do it. I can't do it."
"Shh. Yes, Andrella. Yes, you can. You are strong, you are amazing, and you are more powerful than any of us know." He cooed, starting to rock us back and forth gently. The stone and dirt floor beneath us was hard but somehow comfortable enough, sitting in George's embrace.
"How can you be sure?" I groaned, pulling away from him suddenly. "How can you be so damn sure that everything will just be okay?" I knew it was irrational, but I felt as if I wasn't enough for him, that I was too weak, or even worse a target for trouble and that I needed to get as far away from him before I inadvertently hurt him.
"Because," He said into my hair, unwilling to relinquish his hold on me. His years of playing as a beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch team showed, as he held me to him even as I struggled against him, desperately trying to get away. "I know how amazing you are and I know you're destined to achieve greatness. You just need to trust and believe in yourself like I do."
"You make it sound so easy." I grumbled, my attempts to escape his vice-like grip becoming half-hearted at best.
"Because it is." George laughed. "Haven't you realized by how how bloody wonderful I think you are?"
"No. I don't think you say that enough." I managed to tease, tears already drying.
"Andrella Jade Wendling, you are a bloody goddess and I love you more than anything or anyone else. Now let's get a move on before the Three Broomsticks closes." George declared dramatically, punctuating his sentence with a kiss.
"Yeah, I guess. But only if you give me a piggyback ride". I countered.
"But there isn't enough room!"
"If you give me a piggyback ride back to the tower!" I talked over him, smirking.
"Fine!" He gave an exaggerated huff, but still helped me to my feet. We got about halfway down the cramped passageway when George suddenly stopped dead, groaning loudly
"What? What's wrong?" I panicked, assuming the worst.
"You didn't happen to bring any money did you?" George asked sarcastically turning out his empty pockets.
My immediate response was laughter, which only seemed to annoy George.
"What's so funny?"
I stopped laughing and considered for a moment. There was no reason to hide my magic from George. He already knew everything, I concentrated hard on the velvet pouch I kept money stashed in hidden in rolled up socks in my trunk. Specifically, I thought of the five sickles I knew were in there, and held out my palm expectantly. I felt the weight in my hand and opened my eyes with a grin plastered on my face.
"Well, if you could do that the whole time, why didn't we just summon the drinks to us?" George jested, keeping his tone light while being unable to hide his astonishment. My powers didn't cease to amaze him and it made me positively radiate.
"You make a valid point." I muttered, now completely focused on the money in my hand. What I did before, summoning something when I knew exactly where it was located was one matter, what I was attempting now was something else entirely.
I had to image the Three Broomsticks, look past he faces and the noise to the wooden shelves behind the bar. Saw the bottles of Firewhiskey sitting on the top shelf with my mind's eye. I willed the money on my palm to leave me. I watched it reappear on the shelf. Pushing my known limits, I reached my will to the bottle, coaxing it to come to me. I barely had time to steady my hand to the weight when I felt the chill of glass against my palm. Thankfully, George reached out just in time to steady the bottle of whiskey before it crashed to the floor.
"You did it!" He cheered, showering me cheeks with kisses.
"Yeah," I breathed, feeling as if I just ran five consecutive marathons.
"Woah, there. You okay?" George questioned, taking the whiskey from my hands and steadying me against his chest.
"Tired." I mumbled against his neck. As I spoke, the words they became truer by the second.
"We can go back if you want." George offered, looking unsure of his own words.
"Yeah, just need to sit for minute first." I said, already sliding down the dirt wall, not caring about how dirty I was getting. I could barely process anything, my eyelids drooping. George said nothing but he didn't have to. His arms around me was all I needed. When I opened my eyes again, it was if nothing had ever happened. I felt as if I slept for three days in a single blink.
"Whiskey." I choked out.
"I'm not sure that's a good idea…" George hesitated, instinctively shuffling the bottle to the other hand, further away from me.
"Don't care. Give it to me." I replied easily, reaching out my hand.
With a heavy sigh, he handed it over. "Okay, but just one." he attempted to reason.
"Yeah, sure." I agreed impatiently, taking the bottle and unscrewing its top in nearly the same motion as I raised it to my lips and took a sip. Without warning, I tipped it back and chugged as much as possible before George stopped me, resulting in us both soaked to the skin in alcohol.
"I said one!" George huffed, taking the bottle away. I let him, having no use for it now that it was empty. I was happy to at least gotten in five shots worth before George spilled the rest.
"Yeah, but you never specified one of what." I gloated, removing the moisture from our clothes with a simple flick of the wrist. I never felt exhausted after elemental manipulation, but moving objects? That was something I would have to work on.
"Why you little-" George cursed, eyes narrowing. In an instance he was upon me, fingertips attacking my sides without mercy. I gasped and squirmed beneath him, all the while laughing so loud I feared we'd wake the dead let alone the entire school.
"Shh!" He whispered, clamping a hand over my mouth.
For the first time I noticed our position, yet failed to remember how we got into them in the first lace. My back was flat against the floor with George laying on top of me, his thigh between my legs with his chest flush against mine. His head rested in the crook of my neck, his breath hot on my ear as his words cut through the sound of my hitched breathing. "I want you."
"Right here?" I squeaked, feeling the hardness pressing into my hip as sure as I felt the hardness of the earth against my back.
"Right now." The finality in his tone left not room for argument, even if I had one.
"Well, alright then." I said in false exasperation, turning my neck to give his mouth a better angle to the spot he liked to mark.
He grabbed my chin and turning my head so that I had nowhere to look but directly into his eyes. What I saw there, made me squirm under his gaze, thrusting my hips up into his so he knew I wanted this as badly as he did. He growled in frustration before kissing me more fiercely than I had been kissed in my life, causing a flutter in my stomach, not of fear but of something way darker-desire. He slowly worked his way back to his favorite spot, biting me hard enough to leave marks that would last for weeks.
He yanked up my skirt and tugged mercilessly at my underwear. I reached to help him but heard the tear of fabric and moaned as I felt its ragged remains ripped away from my body. George may have acted this way before, but never quite as possessive and dominating as he was behaving now. I should be terrified, and I was, but only because of how much I liked how he treated me with nothing but unadulterated passion when he got caught up like this. Normally, he tried to be so careful and respectful, treating me like a fragile doll, but the sex was best when he forgot himself and let himself treat me rougher than he normally would allow.
One of his hands pushed mine over my head his one hand large enough to restrain both of mine, leaving his other hand free to reach underneath my blouse and drive me insane with his teasing. His fingers ghosted over my nipples, teasing me through my lacy bra. His knee ground into my sex until I was bending to pull him closer and push him away at the same time as the teasing became too much. I needed to have him inside me, but his hands still held mine firmly in place, giving me to means to move.
"You're so beautiful." He whispered against me collar bone, then continued his onslaught of kisses to any and every exposed inch of skin. What meant to be a frustrated sigh, came out as a guttural groan as his free hand reached down between my legs.
Fingers light to ensure a slow torment, he chuckled in my ear. "Is that what you wanted?"
"George…"I pleaded.
"What?"
"Stop teasing me." I hissed.
"Stop? Okay. I can do that." He said with heavy sarcasm, starting to move his hand away. I squeezed me thighs together, trapping his hand between them.
"Don't you dare stop now. I need you."
Without warning he released my hands. All attention reverted to kissing me as deeply as possible. I sank my hands into his hair as he lifted up his hips to undo his pants. He kicked them off angril, and I used me feet to slide them down his legs. He grabbed my legs beneath the knees and shoved them up to my shoulders, allowing him full access as he buried his length inside of me in one single motion.
He didn't give me the time to adjust before pulling nearly all the way and slamming back against my hips against mine until I was whole again. My hands left his hair to trace the muscles of his back, pressing him tighter to my body as he kept up his relentless pace. My nails scratched down the length as my body rocked with the motion of his thrusting, each time hitting a spot inside of me that had me incoherently cursing his name.
He had one arm underneath my knees, keeping my legs up to allow his other hand to rub wide circle just above where we were joined. Ever time he left me, I felt like I would come apart from the emptiness and the need to fill it and ever time his hips crashed against me, I thought I'd come from sheer force.
I think he did this to add to the torment.
But I couldn't hold on much longer. Already I felt the feeling of the ground lessening on my back as we lifted in the air. Used to the sensation, I kept my eyes closed and willed myself to release. It was useless. George was a master at this art. He long ago found ways to use our strange predicament as an advantage to us both. Seemingly free from the laws of physics, George used his weightlessness in the air to pound into me ruthlessly, finding an angle that had me crying out each time.
"You're incredible." He breathed against my lips, out rhythms finally syncing.
I felt the intensity of his stare behind my closed eyelids. Under the weight of it, I reluctantly opened my eyes to see nothing but an all consuming blue. Agonizing, blazing blue eyes staring deep inside my soul as their owner claimed me in every way. His lips forming the words "I love you", but no sound coming out.
I leaned up to kiss him, to tell him I loved him too, but shifting my hips while he was still deep inside of me caused him to hit the spot that ended everything.
"Fuck, George!" I swore, eyes shooting to the sky as my body clenched around him, arms, legs, and walls.
"Drella," He moaned, eyes blown wide in pleasure and slight panic as we both came around each other. I felt warm and full, and completely spent as I collapsed into George's embrace. We hovered in the small space between the ceiling and the floor, bright flames springing out of the heated air, surrounding our still shivering bodies. I saw them in my peripheral vision, the slames I focused on dances inside George's eyes as he held me together. I was amazed as always, but not afraid. Even as they washed over our skin, they did little more than warm us.
Sighing, George rested his head against my chest, and I held him in my arms as we floated gently back to the floor. I felt him twitch inside me, and I became aware that although our positions had flipped so I now sat straddling George, my legs wrapping around his waist, we remained joined.
"What are we going to do?" George asked solemnly as we settled fully back on the ground.
"I don't know if there's anything we can do about them. I think we're just going to have to live with it, if that's okay?" I asked softly, nervous about his reaction. I played with his now damp hair, finding it hard to look him in the eyes.
"Andrella, I love you and someday I want the whole family thing with you, a pair of ginger and blonde twins each, but I am not ready to be a father right now." George balked, looking more adorable in his panic than ever before.
"What are you talking about?"
"I...You-when we-I didn't…" George struggled, gesturing between us rapidly.
"I know. It's okay." I laughed, deciding to cut him break, as amusing as him sticking his foot in his mouth was for me to watch.
"What? How is it okay?"
"Relax. I have it covered."
"What do you mean, 'you have it covered'?" George asked skeptically.
"Trust me. I'm not ready to have that family yet, either. It is so not the right time for that."
"Okay, but what are we going to do? Is there a potion or a spell or something?"
"Kinda...not really." I offered timidly. This was the last thing I wanted to talk about. "I can...use my magic." I motioned to down there, not wanting to say the words.
"You can?" He asked, sounding shocked as always.
"Yeah, I kinda have to actually. Before it's too late." I mumbled, cheeks going pink.
"Okay." He said staring at me, obviously waiting for me to do something.
"I have to get up first." I said rolling my eyes, before getting nervous again. "And then...do you mind if you look away?"
"Yeah, yeah. Of course." George stammered, put off by my modesty.
"Thanks." I muttered, standing up without much grace. I felt a loss at the sudden emptiness, wishing to sit back down and join with him again-timing be damned. But the warmness I felt trickling down my leg reminded me of what I was doing and why I needed to do it in the first place.
I took a shaky breath and watched George hastily put his pants back on, before beckoning the will of gravity to bend to my mind. I held my dominant hand over my womb and felt the warmth of my magic working. I felt that warmth follow the path my hands traced down my body until I saw a swirl og white and fold following my hand until I cast it away to the floor.
"That is equal parts disgusting and bloody wicked." George said, eyes on the pile of his own seed and thankfully not on my reddening cheeks.
"I asked you not to look." I mumbled.
"The fact that you yielded the power of life doesn't affect you but my watching does?" He tested, stepping into my space.
"Yes." I whined, slapping away the hands that tried to comfort me. "It's not something I like to do, bt as we just went over, we're not ready for parenthood yet."
"You've done that before?"
"Once or twice, yeah. "I admitted. Seeing the gobsmacked look on his face, I continued on in a nervous ramble. "Usually when someone can't wait to find a condom or when it rips."
"How can you tell when it rips?" George interrupted, looking more perturbed than ever.
"I don't know really. I just get a feeling after and I know I have to do what I just did. I don't know. I only ever felt that feeling one other time." I hurried, unable to shield my embarrassment.
While I was looking at the floor, George managed to sneak an arm around my waist and he used this advantage to pull me into his side, placing gentle kisses on my forehead. "One day." he breathed.
"One day what?"
"One day we'll have that family." George promised.
"I'd like that," I said truthfully, allowing myself to be absorbed into his warmth. "I'd like that very much."
XXX
Author's Note:
Hello, Lovelies! I know my absence is unforgiveable. Frankly, I don't even know if anyone is still reading this story. But for anyone that is, this one is for you. This story is not only nine years in the making, it is one close to my heart. I often loose focus, motivation, and will to continue writing on my projects but there is something about this one that always makes me come back to it-no matter how long it's been off of my radar. The reason is all of you that read it. So I make no promises on when updates will come, just another confirmation that as of right now, it is my plan to continue.
This installment (Chapter 20!) was 10, 555 words spanning across 33 pages. All together, that's a total of 79441 words and 219 pages!
So, lovely readers. I know that I deserve nothing from any of you, given my status as "one of those people" that leave you hanging. However, it would mean the world to me that if you're still reading this story in 2018, you leave a comment letting me know. Also, as always, I invite all forms of criticisms and advice on improving the story. What do you guys want to know the most about the characters and what will happen to them? Anyone worried about Renae? Malfoy? Elliott? Excited about what will happen at the Yule Ball? What about the lessons with the professors?
Ex's and Oh's
Audrey V. Sullivan