SORRY, BRUH. IF YOU THOUGHT I WAS ACTUALLY J.K. ROWLING OR HAD ANY PROFITS OR RIGHTS TO THE HARRY POTTER UNIVERSE...WELL, I THINK I'M MORE UPSET THAN YOU ARE THAT YOU'RE MISTAKEN. I'M JUST A BROKE, RECENT GRAD WHO'S PUTTING OFF ADULTING BY WRITING HARRY POTTER FANFIC WHO IS NOT MAKING ANY PROFIT AND DOES NOT HAVE ANY INTENTIONS OTHER THAN TO MAKE SOMEONE SMILE WITH THESE 25 PAGES (!) OF NONSENSE.

NOW, THE DISCLAIMER'S OVER...LET'S HOP TO IT, SHALL WE?

PIP PIP!

XXXXXX

The week following Christmas was busy to say the least, hectic if I'm being frank. However small an accomplishment in the grand scheme of things, I was proud of finding a way to balance George and my studies. Between the two, I woke up early every morning and went to bed late every night.

After Christmas brunch, the promised game of Gobstones with Lee, Christmas Dinner, and a trip to the owlery to send Renae her present, George and I spent the next full day locked away in my fortress. The hours were spent fulfilling the promises George made that morning- the very ones that convinced me to get out of bed in the first place. The hours spent in between exploring each other's bodies, were spent exploring the wonderful bunker below the forest.

We only begrudgingly put our clothes back on and returned to the castle when both of our stomachs began to growl so loudly that all thoughts of sex or sleep were put on halt for the other two basic needs of food and water. Admittedly the later of which had been neglected in pursuit of the more fun on the list. After sneaking food back to the boys' dorm, George and I managed to end Fred and Lee's teasing by threatening not to share our snacks.

That night I fell asleep in George's arms with a promise to myself that I'd get back to work tomorrow. Things might have been quiet since that night on top of the Astronomy tower, but I couldn't forget that there were people still plotting against me. Even with all the excitement of Christmas and the New Year, every time I began to think I could relax (outside of my fortress, that is) I would hear Mad-Eye Moody's gruff voice calling for "Constant Vigilance!"

Over mid-morning tea and biscuits the following day, I informed George I needed to spend the day in the library. George was about to protest when Fred reminded him that he had literally just promised to put their new potions set to good use. I agreed this was the best course of action considering I was starting to fall behind on my personal assignments. George was nothing but a distraction (albeit, a very welcome one). With promises to come find me once he was finished, the twins and I parted ways.

I set a quick pace over to the library, knowing I couldn't possibly move quick enough to get everything finished. Once there I didn't abandon my sense of urgency, making quick work of collecting the necessary reading materials and settling into the secluded corner of the library I considered a secondary home. If we're being honest, it probably fell third on the list behind Hogwarts (as a whole) and The Burrow. I wagered by the end of the year, it would move to fourth place as my fortress moved up the list. Regardless, the several hours of uninterrupted studying was exactly what I needed to recharge.

Do not misunderstand me, I would choose to spend my time with George over being alone in the library 300 days out of the year, but sporadically placed, for those other 65 days I needed time to be alone and think. Besides that, being behind on my work was far from a lie. I had just finished Flitwick's parchment on cloaking and protection charms, McGonagall's assignment on transfiguring the human appearance, and the essay on the rules of numerology in effective spell-casting for Professor Vector. I had yet to start the essay on healing herbs Professor Sprout assigned, the application of said herbs for Madame Pomfrey, or the essay on counter-curses to hexes so nasty I was sure Professor Moody must be going out of his way to shock me. However, all of that would have to wait. I was meant to have a parchment on enhancing the effects of prophetic dreams potions as well as the finer points of successful occlumency finished, all before my lesson with Snape set for after dinner. I had managed to finish the first parchment and was halfway through the second when someone sat down at my table.

I finished my thought before glancing up to see it was Elliott sitting beside me, staring at his folded hands resting on the table between us. He didn't look up until I set the quill down and pushed the inkwell aside. He looked back down just as quickly.

"Good afternoon, Andrella." He addressed his hands.

"Afternoon, Elliott." I said back, my voice quieter than intended. I was nervous all of a sudden and his prolonged silence wasn't helping. "Elliott?"

"I'm sorry, Andrella." Elliott sighed, glancing up through a curtain of dirty blond ringlets.

"Uh, it's okay, but uh, why-"

"Why am I here? I thought that'd be obvious." Elliott laughed, the bitterness of it only dying when he spoke again. "I'm here to apologize."

"You already did." I pointed out.

"But I know my actions warrant a second apology, if not an infinite amount. Truly, I am sorry for how I behaved at the Ball, Andrella." Elliott apologized.

"Really, Elliott, its-" I stopped trying to abort the inevitable when I couldn't think of a word to complete that sentence. Not one that was both kind and truthful, at least.

"It's not okay, Andrella. It's never okay for someone to touch another person without their consent." Elliott completed the sentence for me. "I should have never taken advantage of the opportunity while we were dancing. It was disrespectful, rude, completely unacceptable, and I can only hope not unforgivable."

"Thank you for apologizing, Elliott, but I'm still upset with you." I admitted with a heavy sigh. If we were speaking candidly here, I might as well get everything out in the open.

"I understand, Andrella. I would apologize a thousand more times if I thought it'd make you understand how much I regret treating you in a way less than you deserve."

"I believe you, Elliott, I do, but-"

"But what, Andrella? What can I do to keep you in my life? I value the friendship we've been building and I don't want to have already ruined it." Elliott said, voice as close to pleading as I ever heard it.

"-but the only thing that might help is time. I'm going to have to think things through, Elliott." I continued on with what I was saying before he interrupted me.

"Right, of course." Elliott said, voice hardening and face closing off.

"Listen, Elliott. I don't want to lose you as a friend either. Aside from what happened at the Ball, we haven't had any other problems but what you did was out of line."

"I agree and-"

"And I know you're sorry, but I want you to listen to me now, Elliott. I've been perfectly transparent with the fact that I'm dating George and I'm going to need you to start respecting that." I kept my tone firm, continuing on before Elliott could apologize again.

"George saw what you did while we were dancing, and frankly, sawing your hands off only just came in as a close second-"

"Mauling your neck fall into top spot, did it?" Elliott tossed back, expression breaking form, changing into something I did not like.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about, Elliott!" I exclaimed in a harsh whisper, trying to respect my tiercary home even while mid-argument. "You have no respect for my relationship!"

"Sorry for not jumping for joy that you're shagging someone else." Elliott continued mumbling under his breath.

"Well then, I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry that you can't get over the fact, because I'm not sorry that I love George. I'm not just 'shagging him', Elliott. I love him and have for years." I hissed.

"I'm not sorry that I love you, Andrella." Elliott whispered back just as fiercely. "I will never be sorry for that."

"Elliott, I really don't think there's anything else that can be said here. I think it's best if we just give each other some space so we have time to think this through." I sighed, trying to fight down my anger. I was so close to exploding, but I knew it wouldn't help the situation.

"If that's how you feel," Elliott said stiffly, narrowing his eyes at my response.

"That is how I feel, Elliott, as well as hurt and betrayed. Exactly how George felt when you made it seem like groping me on the dancefloor was acceptable behavior between us!" I bit back, blown away by how he was acting. Didn't he start this conversation to apologize?

"As if that would be so dreadful." Elliott scoffed.

"You know what, Elliott? I don't need any time to think, but I am going to need that space. Starting right now. I suggest you leave before you make me say something worse than intended."

"What else could you say to me that would be worse that your refusal to acknowledge the fact I just confessed my love to you?" Elliott continued to mutter under his breath, anger fueling my own.

"Please, Elliott. Just leave." I repeated.

"I'll leave, Andrella, but first answer one question before I do." Elliott pleaded, finally looking me dead in the eyes. The look inside his speckled hazel eyes were clear, he would not be looking away until I responded.

"Fine, I'm sure you won't like the answer, but go ahead and ask. Let's make things worse while we're at it." I replied, infuriated that he wouldn't just leave. I was only indulging him because I knew it was the quickest way to make him get away from me.

"If I had asked you out before him would you have accepted my invitation?" Elliott asked, skipping over George's name in favor for a pronoun spat out like dirt.

"I love George." came my stubborn response, arms crossing over my chest.

"But if I had asked you to the Yule Ball back when it was first announced, before he did, would you have accepted my offer?" Elliott persisted.

"I hardly see how it matters-"

"It matters, Andrella." He persisted.

"Yes." I spat out, bitter he cornered me into answering at all. I saw the smug smirk working its way on his face and I felt overwhelmed by a need to crush it before it formed. "But only because I thought I had no chance with the person I wanted to ask me-the person I went with."

"Right, then. Thank you for answering my question." Elliott said, the expressionless mask returning to his face as he stood from the table. "I won't bother you anymore."

"That's probably for the best." I agreed, turning my attention back to my abandoned potions work, if only to deprive him of the satisfaction of me watching him walk away. I saw red for a moment, more of a flash if anything. I certainly didn't see the words on the parchment in front of me. Nor could I comprehend them. That did not stop me from grabbing my quill and then stabbing it through the paper several times in a failed attempt at writing. Still I denied him the gratification of a second glance.

How dare he speak to me that way! And to think I almost felt sorry for him! He's lucky I didn't-"

"Easy, love. You have every right to be proper irate, but I don't think that parchment will survive much more abuse." An extremely familiar voice said, nearly giving me whiplash as my head snapped up at the sound.

"George?" I spoke his name as a question as I searched to find his face.

"I'm here, Drella." George said gently. As he sat down next to me, he eased the quill out of my hand so he could take it into his own. I didn't realize my hands were shaking until then. "It's going to be alright, Andrella."

"Oh no! How much of that did you hear?" I groaned, squeezing his hand back. I tried to transfer my emotions to him in that touch, afraid I was too emotional to explain what had happened. If George got the wrong idea about my relationship from Elliott after that-

"Came in right after the second apology, thought about storming over but I wanted to hear what the toerag had to say, so I remained hidden behind the bookcase. I'm sorry that happened, love." George explained, scooting his chair over so he could throw an arm around my shoulder.

"You don't have anything to apologize for, George. You didn't do anything wrong." I protested, physically melting into his embrace.

"I know you think that but I didn''t, Drella. I shouldn't have spied on you, but it was either that or resorting to muggle violence."

"Muggle violence?" I questioned, craning my neck up awkwardly to send him a dubious look.

"Not one of my finer traits, but when I see or hear someone disrespecting my family, its difficult to overcome my violent tendencies. I know a million hexes that would do the job with more finesse, but in the moment, it's always my fists acting out before my brain can catch up and stop it." George explained.

"Normally, I'd never encourage physical violence but-" I contemplated, George cutting me off with a deep chuckle.

"I don't know, Drells. I think your words cut deep enough to cause sufficient damage."

"You don't think I was too harsh, do you?"

"Not a bit, but then again, you might be asking the wrong person. My response would have been to throttle him." George reassured me.

"Can't blame you, but I don't want to talk or think about Elliott anymore."

"Fair enough. Although I'm particular to getting dinner, I'm up for anything you'd like to do." George offered.

As if on cue, my stomach rumbled, causing both of us to laugh. "Dinner sounds lovely. Let me gather my books."

"Sure thing, love, let me help. And Drella?" George asked, starting to help me pack my abundance of books but paused, holding his hand over my own until I met his eyes.

"Yes, George?"

"I know we've agreed not to talk about it, but I'd like to say one more thing on the matter before we put it out of our minds. If I may, that is." George said suddenly, the uncharacteristic hint of nerves was contagious, and I was suddenly very anxious about what George had to say.

"Okay." was all I managed besides an encouraging squeeze to his hand.

"I know that Elliot said it mattered whether or not you would have accepted his invitation to the Yule Ball-I just wanted to let you know it doesn't." George said, gaining confidence as he continued to speak.

"I completely agree, but why are you telling me this, George?"

"Look, you know I don't like Elliott. I think it's pretty clear why that is. We both love you, Andrella. I thank Merlin and Morgana every day that I'm the one who gets to wake up with you in my arms, telling me you love me back. I know how lucky I am that you return my feelings because you are the most amazing person I have ever met-the bloody perfect woman-honest.

"So, yeah, I get why he's fallen for you. I'm sure he won't be the last, but I hate the way he's reacting to it for a hundred reasons. One of the biggest being that he's hurting you. I might never have liked the two of you spending so much time together, but I always trusted you. I knew that his friendship was important to you and for your sake, I'm sorry he couldn't put aside his feelings.

"But I'm not sorry that you stood up for yourself, me, or our relationship. I know it was a painful conversation to have, but I swear, Drella, when you were shutting his advances down by telling him how much you loved me...I know it makes me screwy in the head, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't get me hot." George finished his (mostly) beautiful speech by throwing me a cheeky wink followed by suggestive wiggly eyebrows.

"You are incorrigible, George Weasley." I squeaked as George pulled me from my chair into his lap without a hint of warning.

"Must be one of the reasons why you love me." George teased, brushing his parted lips against my pulse point as his hands found the necessary leverage to grip my thighs and bring me closer.

"I'm not disagreeing but we're in the library and we've already been quite loud-"

"I don't care who sees or hears us, Drella. Let them watch, for all I care. I love you and I'm damn proud to hear you fight for us. That's why I know that this relationship can survive anything, because we'd both fight for it. If you had accepted his invitation before I gathered the courage to confess my feelings for you, well, I can't exactly say I would be respectful of your relationship either." George spoke the last part through a sly grin.

"You would never speak to me like that or touch me without my permission." I interrupted George's confession, unable to withstand the comparison he was trying to make when there wasn't one.

"No, I wouldn't have, but I would have done anything I could to convince you to change your mind and give me a chance instead." George conceded.

"You wouldn't have had to convince me, George. It's always been you." I reassured him, breaking eye contact to look down to where our bodies were rocking together on the rickety library chair.

"Sometimes it upsets me that we wasted so much time being in love but not admitting it to each other." George sighed, leaning into my touch as I scraped my nails against his scalp in the way he liked.

"Only sometimes?" I asked.

"The other times, like right now, I'm just grateful that someone as amazing as you could love me in the first place to question the path that got me to this point in life. Afterall, I've got the most gorgeous person I've ever laid eyes on straddling me in the library. These are the makings of every young man's wildest fantasies." George said smoothly, punctuating his statement with an unexpected upward thrust of his hips. I'm not ashamed to admit the sudden contact was enough to elicit a moan as I grabbed a fistful of George's hair and yanked his head back to glare at him.

"I refuse to apologize for the way you make me lose control of myself, but I won't blame you either, since there's absolutely nothing you could do that would convince me you aren't perfect." George replied with a cheeky slap to my backside, earning him another surprised gasp.

"What's with all the flattery?" I asked, suspicious of his slightly out of character declaration of love and intent.

"Can't a man tell his girlfriend he loves her without an ulterior motive?" George countered with a wounded expression.

"Yes, but not while he's trying to distract her from the fact he's unbuttoning her blouse. I'd say that is the ulterior motive and I already told you I'm not having sex with you in the library!" I pointed out in a harsh whisper. Even so, the thought of stopping his not-so-subtle advances was no more than a fleeting notion.

"Really? Because all I heard were a few half-hearted excuses. Besides, if you really didn't want this, we both know you'd be up and off me in under a second. But if I am somehow misreading your body language..." He drawled off for a second to tease my nipples through the thin lace of my bra. I was also not ashamed to say they were already erect and just the slightest touch of his fingers had me biting my lip to stifle the moan that wanted to escape. I've said it before and I'd say it a thousand more times, that boy is working a special kind of magic.

"If I am reading the signals wrong then consider this your formal invitation to tell me to stop. We'll go and have dinner in the Great Hall with our much neglected friends." George offered with a sincere smile.

"Or…?" I asked, swallowing a nervous chuckle as I watched his eyes narrow at my insinuation.

"Or...we'll skip dinner for my favorite dessert. Right here, right now." George propositioned, his large hands squeezing my hips for emphasis before they fell to his side-truly giving me control of the situation.

"I swear to Merlin, one of these days you're going to get the both of us expelled with your wild ideas." I sighed, tightening my grip in his hair. I used it to my advantage and pulled him in for a kiss, using the energy boost it provided to make the both of us invisible.

"I, for one, think it'd be worth it." George groaned out as I ground myself down on his still clothed erection. "Bloody Hell, Drella. Have you embraced the wild side or are we already invisible?" George gasped, whether from the shock of my brazzen attitude or because my hips continued to wind in slow circular motions in his lap I could never be sure.

"Of course, we're invisible. I think having sex in a public place is plenty wild enough without being caught. Now shut up and kiss me before I change my mind." I demanded.

George compiled without dispute, working quickly to finish unbuttoning my top. Always the multitasker, George pressed open mouthed kisses onto the newly exposed skin, sprinkling words between them as he moved lower. "Care. To. Make. Things. More. Interesting?"

"What are you proposing?" I questioned through clenched teeth, trying admirably not to let George know how much his targeted kisses affected me. His ego was big enough as it was, thank you very much.

"Absolute silence. If you break it, you'll have to pay a price." George replied.

"Which would be?"

"No knickers for a week." George shot back.

"Confident you'll win, are you?" I sassed. He laughed at my statement. Smug as ever, as he brought his face back up to mine.

"And why shouldn't I be, given my track record?"

"Don't you get all cocky with me, George Weasley! Just because-" but my retort was swallowed my an embarrassingly loud moan as his hand snaked down between my thighs to yank away the magenta thong.

"I thought you liked it when I got...cocky with you." George chuckled at his own joke, breath hot in my ear as his hips bucked upwards again. This time with his hand in between, his finger was pushed into me slightly causing us both to groan. He removed his finger just as suddenly, choosing instead to coat me in my own arousal. "Care to disagree, my love?" He challenged, his fingers circling, never once touching me directly.

"Stop teasing me." I demanded.

"If I count before as a practice round, are you willing to accept the rules of the game?" George persisted.

"I'm going to make you regret this, George Weasley." I promised before pulling him back for another kiss before he could shoot off one of his cheeky replies.

George knew all the ways to reduce me back to a primal state. A few well-aimed touches and George could pull me from a calm and collected state to a desperate, vocal wreck. He appeared to be on a mission to use as many of his methods at once, as if setting a record for how quickly he could make me lose my battle for self-control.

His hands moved to follow my hips as they shifted upward to give him better access. He denied my transparent advances, fingers keeping their determinedly slow pace. His other hand gripped my hip bone, nails digging in as he fought to keep me from squirming my way into what he was trying to deny me. Our tongues engaged in a mirrored battle for control. He might be strong enough to keep me in place, but if he was willing to use his strengths against me to get the advantage, I'd have to do the same.

When it came down to it, we were both fiercely competitive. I never wanted George to refrain himself in anyway or let me win but I suspected that he did anyway out of a misguided sense of chivalry. I was thrilled that today seemed to be one of the rare days he couldn't hold himself back. I was thrilled because that meant when I beat him at his own game it was because I deserved it. The teasing way his fingers worked had me distracted and I was ready to even out the playing field.

I fisted one hand into George's hair and yanked his head back to give myself better access to his neck. I let my lips ghost across his skin until I found the spot I was searching for but quickly became frustrated with his shirt collar. With a particularly violent tug (and the help of an emotionally-charged burst of nonverbal magic) all of the buttons snapped open. My hands made quick work of pushing it the rest of the way off, or at least as much as I could while his arms remained snaked around me.

I did not bother to take in his reaction before returning to my original mission-making him regret thinking he had a chance. I was not gentle as I sucked and nipped at one of the most sensitive spots of George's body-certainly the most sensitive spot generally on display to the pubic. Knowing that it would peek up over the collar of even the longest turtle neck, I decided future comments (most likely from Fred and Lee) would be worth it and bit down as hard as I could.

Instantly I knew this was the right decision as George's hips snapped forward, directing his fingers exactly where I wanted them. Thankfully George's throat masked the sound of my moan at the unexpected contact and again with the delicious way his other set of fingers dug into my hips with bruising force.

George did not move his other hand away, but kept his strokes steady and shallow even if the first telltale signs of wavering self-control appeared in renewed efforts to keep me still above him. If he thought I would play along, he would be sorely mistaken-I would make sure of that. If anything, the more he succeeded in turning me on, the more it motivated me to return the favor sevenfold.

I took a calming breath before returning my attention to the mission ahead of me. I worked my way down his body, taking my time to kiss and nip at the hard lines chiseled through years of gruelling Quidditch training with Oliver Wood. Even as I became increasingly distracted by the beauty of his bare skin (and dirty thoughts of what mischief the twins could unleash on Oliver in the team showers after practice to build such lean muscles…) I tried to remember we were playing a game-one that I planned on winning. Despite the slight sting in my lower back from the extreme angle of the position, I knew the awkwardness would be worth it.

I placed us so that my breasts were pressed tightly to his chest while I remained straddling his lap. I arched my back in a way gave him easier access to reach between my legs that were now angled backward so that he couldn't help but touch me exactly where I wanted him.

George giving into my silent but not subtle demands as easily as he did should have been a warning signal. However, as I was too distracted by the pleasure of him granting my wish I was unable to recognize it as such. Still, I continued to kiss down the length of his torso, although now, I took advantage of the opportunity to use his long,thick fingers to pleasure myself. I did not stop until I was folded in half, mouthing at his erection through his pants.

George had quickly learned on Christmas that using any of my newfound abilities in a less than proper or conventional way-especially invisibility-emboldened me and has since used this knowledge to redirect my energy for his own gain. Little did he know, I was aware it had the same effect on him. I shamelessly fucked myself open with increased desperation as I worked to unfasten his pants with nothing but my tongue and teeth.

I barely had time to celebrate my success before I was having the wind knocked out of lungs by the force of my back coming into sudden contact with the unforgiving surface of the table. Spines of books were lodged into my back as George pressed me down careless of what was once laid carefully on the table. He used his full weight to keep me still beneath him as he maneuvered both of my hands over my head. His hands were so large he was able to hold both of my wrists in a single hand while using his other hand to free his erection from its soiled cloth restraint.

He remained silent but his eyes screamed his intent loud enough to coax a shiver down my spine. I barely had a moment to register the intensity in his glare before he reached forward and snatched the soaked lace thong. In one fluid motion and animalistic tug, the lace stretched forward before it snapped and was ripped away from my body. A sharp intake of air was the only sound able to escape from my mouth before George's swallowed the rest of what would have been a game-losing shriek.

There was no pretense of chivalry in the way he dominated my tongue with his own or how his grip tightened around my wrists. The other gripped his dick as he guided the head to my opening. He was not gentle once he found it, choosing to sink all the way in with one intense thrust of his hips.

Despite the fact his efforts were going exactly as intended (leaving me a writhing, quivering mess seizing around him), they were rather telling. If he was working this hard to give me exactly what I needed to push me over the edge, it left my wondering how close he already was himself. I took a moment to think of the best way to test my theory. It was nearly impossible to keep focus on anything but the melodic panting displaying George's exertion in my ear as his moved on to ravish just below it.

It was made more impossible when I noticed how his thrusts were timed to the unsteady exhale of my own breath instead of his own. I also couldn't help but notice how wide his smile grew whenever a particularly well-aimed thrust forced me to bite down on my lip to keep myself silent. I found myself trying to squirm out of his grasp when the sensation became too much, begging him with my eyes to help me find release. When George used his physical strength to keep me pinned beneath him, subject to his merciless pace, I decided it was time to abandon any semblance of a fair fight. But what really pushed me over the edge was that damn smirk as he bit down on his own lip, his eyes half-closed but pupils full-blown in his lust.

Normally, I reserved our mental link of emergencies but I was making a exception right now-if you could even call beating the boy at his own game an exception instead of a necessity. With a surprising amount of ease, I lowered my voice and projected it into George's mind as I thought of the filthiest thing I could think to say if I was able to speak.

"Fuck, George, please! I'm so close! Come inside me. I want to feel you fill me, George, please!"

With a half-strangled but fully-audible "Bloody-fucking-hell!", George fulfilled my wishes while effectively losing his own bet. Not that I was in any position to gloat, now that I was overwhelmed with the force George coming inside of me being enough to bring on my own. It was also enough to raise us into the air above the table in a forceful upward jolt in its unexpected intensity.

I was still fighting to catch my breath when I felt my bare bottom regain contact with the table and plethora of mistreated parchment scraps (and essays which must now be scourgifed before they could be turned in). Once grounded enough to open my eyes I couldn't help but muster my best satisfied grin reminiscent of his own before I turned back to look at George. The fact that he was pointedly avoiding eye contact said all that needed to be said.

Just shy a quarter of an hour later, we were dressed and finally on our way to the Great Hall to catch what remained of dinner. I spent nearly half the way down teasing George about how he musn't forget to leave out his knickers when he got dressed for the next week. I also offered my assistance to make sure to remind him of the fact. That particular remark had George yanking me into the nearest empty classroom to get his revenge by snogging me breathless. When he finally pulled away leaving me dazed, he took the opportunity to remind me that this was no real punishment for him.

Unwilling to let my victory be diminished, I countered, "But what about if you get a stiffy? Everyone will see it!"

This hypothetical situation didn't seem to bother him. In fact, it was through a wicked grin George replied, "Well, if that happens I will just have to tell them about all the things I was envisioning doing to you to get me into such a state. I'll spare no detail and we'll just see who is embarrassed then."

"You're a wicked man, George Weasley." I swore, believing that he would do exactly that if I didn't stop teasing him about losing our personal game of Silent Library.

"Just another reason you love me, Andrella Wendling." George replied with an infectious cheer. The next moment he was taking my hand and dragging me out of the classroom and down the hall. "C'mon, love, we'll still make dessert with a brick pace and a bit of luck!"

"You're maddening!" I laughed, picking up speed to keep in step with George.

"Trying to list all 999 reasons why you've fallen for me, love?" George teased.

"999? Why not any other number?"

"You're right. I'm selling myself short. There's at least 1,000 reasons. Humility, if nothing else."

"Absolutely impossible is another." I added.

"Fantastic! We're already at 1,001 and there's still strawberry tart left!" George exclaimed as we made our late entrance into the hall. As we found our seats across from Fred and Lee, George barely muttered a 'hello' before slicing into what remained of the pastry.

"Been busy working up an appetite, have you?" Fred accused, shrewdly eyeing his brother's atrocious eating habits. George was shoveling tart into this mouth without care to where the flakes landed, confirming he had the table manners of a starving dog.

"I thought we agreed not to ask questions we didn't want to know the answer to?" I retorted, between a modest bite of tart that was consumed using a fork like is custom for civilized humans.

"What are you on about?" Fred asked.

"Oh, right! My mistake, wrong sibling." I snickered, remembering my conversation with Ginny in Hogsmeade before adding. "It's still a good rule of thumb."

"Whatever." Fred scoffed, turning back to Lee. "So, what do you think? Should we be generous and invite these two prats out with us tonight?"

"If George doesn't eat the last slice of tart, then yes." Lee nodded, as if agreeing with himself that these were fair terms.

"What were you two planning?" I fished for information, making George pout at the consideration of his precious dessert being auctioned off.

"Last hurrah in Hogsmeade before the new term. Grab a few pints and reminisce about the good times we've had thus far this year." Fred answered.

"As enthralling as that sounds, I've got my meeting with Snape and then Dumbledore tonight. Frankly, I'll be too exhausted after to be much fun."

"Okay, good now that's settled, I'll just go ahead and take this…" George began to reach for the last slice.

"But you should go out and have a guy's night. I know you're upset I've been keeping your brother to myself this break."

"Trying to get rid of me, love?" George asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Of course not. I just know I'll want to get caught up on assignments before classes resume on Monday so I can actually enjoy the last day before the hell that is always winter term." I corrected him, shivering at the reminder of how much work was due in the oncoming weeks to be ready for exams.

"Yeah, come out for a night with your mates, George. It'll be fun." Lee insisted.

"Fine, then. Take the blasted thing." George huffed, pushing the dish containing the last slice of tart over to a beaming Lee.

I let Fred and Lee paint me a picture of all the fun I would be missing out tonight while I alternated between scribbling words of the last paragraph of my potions paper due in less than twenty minutes and greedy bites of the much-less-coveted cranberry tart. When they had finished, Lee insisted he finally be told about what went on in all these super-secretive meetings with the professors.

No offense to Lee, but I was beginning to realize the severity of my situation and how readily the truth wants to out itself without aid. I went on to give them a brief, rather bland description of what my meetings would be about, knowing I would have to give the twins a full run-down after. It was growing to be a habit after each lesson, with George at least, and Fred when he wasn't busy off with Angelina.

"Speaking of my meeting, if I don't leave now I'll be late." I said after a quick glance at the clock. Snape was not present at the staff table so there was no way I would beat him down to the dungeons.

"Will you be in my bed when I get back?" George whispered in my ear, voice dropping to the low pitch that he knew made it hard to resist snogging him senseless on the spot.

"Where else would I be?"

"That's what I like to hear, love. See you when we get back. It will be late so do not feel pressured to stay up if you're tired." George laughed, pecking me lightly before I pulled away of Fred and Lee's whistling.

"We'll see what happens. I love you."

"I love you, too, Drells. Be safe."

"You too. Take care of each other out there. It's a full moon tonight." I addressed the last part to the three of them.

"We'll be careful, Andi. Now go before you anger the dungeon troll known as our resident Potions Master." Fred teased. I didn't answer him Instead, I swooped down for one last kiss from his twin before I simply followed him advice instead.

I may or may not have used my newfound powers to increase my speed to an inhuman level, but Snape's greeting was enough to make the effort worth it.

"Ah, Miss Wendling. Precisely on time, as always. I am glad you are taking our lessons seriously because today we are advancing your training."

"Professor?" I pressed when he did not elaborate.

"You have proven a natural occlumens as well as legilimens. You may have everyone else fooled that you are just an average student, a simple girl in love with one of those buffoon twins, but I know that you are an incredibly strong and resilient woman in her own right." Snape's word were as kind as I'd ever heard them, even if his tone remained critical. "When you apply yourself, I have no doubt you will easily master anything you set your mind to accomplishing.

"The question is whether or not you have the determination to push yourself beyond your pre-established limits to prove me right. I say me because spending enough time inside of your head I realize that you do not give yourself the credit you deserve. Do you have the courage to take yourself to uncomfortable places in the sake of improving your skills?"

"Yes, Professor. I am fully committed to do whatever is necessary to prepare myself for the oncoming war." I replied, feeling the weight in the vow to acknowledge a bleak reality.

"Why do you believe we are heading to war?"

"You said it yourself, professor. I am neither blind nor dumb. I can sense Voldemort's return nearing ever closer by the day." I asserted, finding a rush in speaking my opinion so candidly with a professor the topic was sensitive for-not that I could find one that was not.

"Well, well, well. Turns out you might be a clever witch disguised in scarlet and gold robes, after all, Miss Wendling." Snape remarked.

"I'm not sure if I should be offended by what you're implying, Professor...sir." I added the formality as a countermeasure, truly not wanting to offend the older man but knowing what else to say.

"Spoken like a true Slytherin." Snape said. "That is one thing Dumbledore and I have always agreed on. We begin sorting too early and the biggest effect is unnecessary rivalry based on the color of one's robes.

"I'm not sure I'm following, Professor."

"After our last session, I was quite intrigued by your thought process." Snape explained. "I decided to consult one of the only other being that has seen inside your mind first hand. The sorting hat is a steel trap of information. It remembers every mind it has encountered. The snapshots of people's mentality upon wearing it is something it is quite excited to discuss. This was certainly the case when I asked it about you."

"What did it say, Professor?" I asked, unable to contain my curiosity.

The hat certainly did not feel like sharing 'its many thoughts' with me. If I recalled correctly, it sat on my head for a full ten minutes while muttering useless phrases such as "Hmmm." and "How curious." between long stretches of silence.

"Quite a lot. It seemed to be quite fond of sorting you. It said it was an honor to encounter another of 'your kind'. It did not, however, elabore what it meant by that. Would you care to?" Snape prompted.

What a fabulous question. For start, it was nothing but a facade for a much deeper question. Did I trust him? I wasn't honestly sure either way, but as I thought about the question, I decided to let my gut feeling influence my mind.

"It could have been referring to the fact my mother is Ismerte, which makes me Ismerte, but I'm not entirely clear on what that means myself." I admitted in a quiet voice but I was proud I could maintain eye contact.

He held a level gaze through an emotionless expression in a silence that stretched on eons before he finally spoke again. "Thank you for trusting me with your secrets. I would tell you what it said to me, but I think this might be an opportunity for you to practice your hand at legilimency."

"What?" I replied, knowing I sounded stupid.

"The sorting hat confided a wealth of information not only about you but about the Ismerte it's encountered in the past. I am going to think about that moment and you are going to attempt to see that memory for yourself inside my mind." Snape iterated, frowning down at me.

"Just to be perfectly clear-you are asking me to look inside your mind by performing legilimency on you?" I repeated, still not believing what he was suggesting.

"The list of people I am comfortable allowing you to use as a guinea pig for what can be an extremely dangerous art, starts and ends with myself." Snape defended his decision.

"If you're certain I'm willing to give it my best shot." I replied quickly, afraid he'd recant.

"Very well. You know what to do, don't you?" He asked, sitting back in his chair, eyebrow raising in challenge this time.

"Yes, Professor." I answered with a feigned confidence. I squared my shoulders and raised my wand before casting the spell. Immediately, I was jolted into the memory of Snape standing in the headmaster's office, the animated Sorting Hat sitting on its ceremonial stool…

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"Ah, Severus, what can I do for you?" the brim of the old hat opened and closed as it spoke. its voice cheerful yet notably cautious.

"I am hoping to gather information on a student-Miss Andrella Wendling, to be precise." Snape said, cutting straight to the chase.

"Ah, yes, Miss Wendling. I've been waiting for someone to come asking about her, but I will admit I never expected it to take this long or for it to be you. Figured it would be Dumbledore if not the girl herself. Always a curious one that girl, not that it is surprising considering." The hat blathered on.

"Considering what?" Snape interjected.

"The nature of her kind, of course. Ismerte, even those unaware of their true identity are always the curious lot. They cannot help their destiny, after all. The graveness of their fate curses through their veins. Only met a few myself, even in all my years, but that was the one trait they have all had in common." The hat supplied.

"I'm sorry but I'm unfamiliar with the term. What are the Ismerte?" Snape interrupted before the Hat could lose him further.

"An ancient group of wizards, of course. They were cursed by Merlin himself to bear the burden of knowledge, never to relieve it, even in death. For hundreds of centuries the descendants of those initial wizards have been punished for the transgressions of their ancestors until they grew large enough in numbers to be known collectively as the Ismerte. It is not surprising you have not heard of them; they are a secretive people, for good reason at that."

"That reason being?' Snape prompted.

"Among the long list of envious traits, they are above all else keepers of knowledge. With knowledge comes power, as you very well know, Severus. To the first and only girl placed in Slytherin the founding year of Hogwarts, from the shy boy I placed in Hufflepuff in the 1850's, to the last I placed in Ravenclaw when you were still just a young, innocent student here yourself-that fact has not changed.

"All three of the Ismerte I have encountered thus far have grown to accomplish great and impossible tasks despite and because of the curse Merlin bestowed on their bloodline. Before the hand of destiny shows her hand, it is easy for that curse to be misrepresented as a blessing.

"The same fate of greatness awaits the young Gryffindor. Her ambition will manifest to be one of her defining characteristics. In fact, I nearly places in her Slytherin under your care because of this." The hat ended on a cheeky note.

"Why didn't you?" Snape asked.

"With a mind and potential like hers, I had good enough reason to place her into any house. Like many do, she made her preferences known." The hat said in a tone that suggested that if it had shoulders, it would be shrugging them.

"She chose to be in Gryffindor?" Snape scoffed, showing his inability to fathom how anyone would willing chose to place themselves in the lion's den.

"Yes. She had just met a set of twins on the train and though they would make for wonderful first friends. As I had just placed George and Fred Weasley into Gryffindor house moments before her, she asked if she could follow. I often wonder what would have happened if I had sorted her first, but…she had the bravery and loyalty to warrant such a request. With the ability to flourish equally in any house, I could not find reason to deny her wish, even if my first selection would have, indeed, been Slytherin." The hat explained, giving Snape the strong impression it was enjoying itself. Snape couldn't discredit it for that; he knew it must be a lonely existence sitting dormant on a dusty shelf save for a few days out of a year.

"What did you see when you were inside her head? I need as many details as I can learn if I am to help her reach the potential we both know her capable." Snape asked, giving clarification as to not raise any suspicions. The hat's tone was oddly protective and Snape knew better than to offend mythical objects and creatures with nothing better to do than hold a grudge.

"Rest assured, Professor, she will accomplish amazing feats with no help but that of her ancestors. The ferocity of her determination is the strongest I have encountered in years. Her thoughts were consumed with a passion to embrace her sudden immersion into the wizarding world. She wanted to use her years at Hogwarts to gain the education necessary to leave wizarding society better off than the day she entered.

"I remember this vividly because it was such an odd thought for an eleven year old to be projecting while nervous. She has a noble heart with intentions to do her very best to fit in better than she did at the muggle schools she attended previously. Her thoughts moved a mile a minute, trying to convince me that she belonged in the wizarding world, afraid I'd look inside to find she had no magic after all. That this was all a big mistake.

"She had this confidence about her thoughts despite her doubts, sure that she would be able to convince me to stay and if not, she would fight for her right to prove herself. She's stubborn but I am sure you are well aware of that by now." The hat finished with a fondness Snape had not heard from it before.

"It's the reason I'm here." Snape confirmed grumpily.

"That stubbornness will keep her alive. The moral compass, gut feeling, intuition, whatever you will call it-it will keep her alive. If there is one thing I have learned to never ignore it is the intuition of an Ismerte. She believed she belonged with those twins in Gryffindor so I placed her in Gryffindor. Tell me, do you agree with my decision, Professor?"

"Who am I to tell you how to do what you were designed to do?" Snape said instead, already aching to get off the the library. "Thank you for speaking to me."

"Of course, Professor Snape, anytime. You may be the one exception to my perfect sorting record. Talking to you lets me continue that eternal debate of mine." The hat confided.

"I think you made the right call." Snape said as way of a farewell, feet setting a quick course to the restricted section of the library.

"If you say so, Severus. Please tell Miss Wendling to visit me on her own when she is ready. I know she has many questions. I cannot claim to help her with any of the heaviest ones but I may be able to help more than she believes." The hat said ominously before returning to inanimate stillness.

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I was returned to reality as if a bucket of ice water was poured over my head. Snape remained seated far back in his chair, giving me a calculated look as he waited for me to react.

"The sorting hat barely said anything to me when it was on my head. Why did it tell you all this and me nothing?" was all I could think to ask.

"The sorting hat has a reason for everything it does." Snape said, calm and cryptic as ever.

"It almost put me in Slytherin." I pointed out to test his reaction.

His facade nearly cracked at that, the corners of his lips twitching a reply. "The second decision of its that I've questioned. I do, however, agree that you would have benefitted from my guidance much earlier on."

"Oh?" was all I could say, my brain still short-circuiting from information overload.

"Don't look at me like that, Wendling. I may not be your head of house but I am still your professor." He reprimanded.

"Sorry, Sir. I'm just confused."

"Given my own disbelief, I will not begrudge you that. I am simply trying to offer my assistance now that we have established trust within each other."

"Off your assistance with that, professor?"

"Recalling the memories from your coma, for starts, if that is something you would be interested in uncovering." Snape clarified, making it clear that the decision rested with me.

"When do we start?"

"Right after we finished preparing the Prophetic Dream Draught so it will be ready for Tuesday." Snape help up his hand to silence my protests. A smile almost succeeding in breaking through his expressionless mask. "Although I admire your enthusiasm, we have to add the essence of moon within the next hour or else the draught will be rendered useless. Do not despair, Miss Wendling. Sweating process included, it should take less than twenty minutes."

"What are we waiting for, Professor?" I asked, leaping out of my seat to head over to his personal lab where the potion was simmering. If I had not turned when I did, I would have caught the satisfied smirk that finally cracked Snape's stony expression.

As promised and predicted, twenty minutes later we finished preparing the potion. We had retaken our seats across the desk from each other, Snape staring silently with an intensity that would have made anyone feel uncomfortable.

"I cannot promise this will be pleasant. Are you sure you want to proceed? We will not be able to unlearn the information we learn." Snape warned.

"The sorting hat said that it was in my blood to be curious to a fault and that in the end it would be a blessing disguised as a curse. I see no point running away from what can't be fought. Better to face those challenges head on, don't you think?" I said, tone tons lighter than I felt on the inside. Snape was bound to be right about one thing-knowing my luck, I'm sure I was not about to learn I am the heiress to billions of Galleons in a secret Gringotts account.

"You might prove to be a true Gryffindor after all." Snape remarked not unkindly. The way he said it made me think it was as close to praise Snape would ever credit his lifelong rival house. "Are you ready, Miss Wendling?"

"As I'll ever be, Professor." I nodded my consent as he pointed his wand at my temple.

"Right then, permission to push back and enter my memories if it becomes too much for you. That will be easier than trying to jump straight back into the reality if you are in the middle of a panic attack." Snape advised, staying true to fashion by not mentioning why I might be panicking in the first place. A slight inclination of his head was the only warning he gave before casting he nonverbal spell that would hopefully shed light on what actually happened those few minutes my heart stopped beating...

Or at least what happened when I was unconscious. Either way, it was time to learn the truth, if the price to pay was Snape would learn it as well-so be it. I was tired of everyone else knowing more about me than I did.

I closed my eyes and took a deep calming breath. I didn't even have to open my eyes to know his spell had worked. As I inhaled deeply, I was greeted with the inviting scent of cherry blossoms in full bloom and an inexplicable warmth that radiated with the truest sense of clarity I have ever known…

I couldn't explain it, but I knew that when I opened my eyes I would be home...

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'ELLO, LOVELY READERS!

I am so happy to (FINALLY) have this out for you! I'm very excited about what's going to be happening in the next few chapters! I'll be honest, it's part of the reason I'm pushing myself to get my arse into gear and get typing! In fact, this chapter was originally much longer, but I felt like I needed to break it up. Personally, I do not usually have a problem posting a 60 page chapter if that's how the story flows, however I want to be clear when I say SHIT IS ABOUT TO GO DOWN. There's about to be a bunch of knowledge bombs and drama T spilt all over the next few chapters and I want to make sure that everyone (MYSELF INCLUDED) can focus on what's important…

That being said, I love this chapter but I realize that there are probably some mistakes. Please feel free to shout them out and I can fix them. Other than that, I would love to hear from y'all. Honest to Merlin, I write equally for you reading as I do for myself. I know I've been talking about a bunch of drama when things are all lovey dovey...so I would LOVE to hear what you guys think is about to go down? Or anything else you'd like to say to me.

As usual I CANNOT THANK YOU ENOUGH for sticking with this story long enough to be reading the author's note at the end of chapter 25. I love each and every one of you and if I could I would grant you seven minutes in heaven with the wizard or witch of your choosing.

Ex's and Oh's

Audrey V. Sullivan