Chapter 42 – Don't Blame Me

I'm insane, but I'm your baby

Don't blame me
Love made me crazy
If it doesn't, you ain't doing it right

Sam had made a point of not waiting for Janey to attend the Prefect meeting together that Friday, but she hadn't really expected him to anyway. Whatever polite energy they'd been able to share over the week was long since gone, but she hardly cared. Not when she was so excited to see Henry again.

This would be the first meeting they'd be attending since things had started to develop between them—which surprised Janey somewhat. It really had felt much longer.

As Janey approached the meeting room solo—(she had even made sure to arrive a few minutes early, so eager was she to perhaps chat with Henry before it began)—she felt a lot lighter than she had in a while. Henry did not seem the kind of guy to mess her around or toy with her affections—not how it had felt like Roman had done—and she was excited for what the future might bring for them.

Her immediate elation at identifying him within the meeting room was cut short by the almost equally immediate identification of Isabella standing beside him. And even worse, she thought irritably, Sam. Whatever James may have joked about, or Rose had naively suggested, Janey had absolutely zero desire to hang out as some kind of foursome. Her desire to speak to Henry only slightly overriding her reluctance to interact with either Sam or Isabella, Janey forced herself over to the gathering.

When he identified her, Sam scowled. But when he realised she was there for Henry, and not to aggravate either himself or his girlfriend, he seemed to relax.

"Hi," Janey announced, completely ignoring both Sam and Isabella. The latter looked slightly affronted, whilst Sam now had an odd look on his face. One of… uneasiness, almost. But Janey neither knew nor cared what was going through the Gryffindor's mind.

Henry's entire face had lit up, and so too, Janey's heart seemed to be swelling with warmth and lightness.

"Hi," he greeted back.

He was so cute.

Sam cleared his throat, entirely ruining the moment. "I suppose we should take our seats."

"Yes, let's," Janey said sweetly, ignoring Sam and beaming instead at Henry. She rather boldly took his hand in her own, not caring for the entire room of onlookers, and began to lead him to some free seats.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked quickly, something like panic ringing in his voice. He blushed slightly as Janey cocked her head in response.

"Don't you want to sit next to Isabella?" she asked, confused.

The girl in question looked at Sam like she was having the exact same thought, her eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, of course," Sam said unconvincingly. "But it's just—we should probably sit with people from our own houses, right?"

Janey stared at him blankly and confusedly. Sure, she and Sam had always reluctantly sat together during the meetings, but she wasn't aware of any rules stating it was mandatory or anything. Of course the prefects of each house and year group naturally tended to stick together, but Janey was sure Bobbin wouldn't have any problems with a different seating arrangement.

"Well, I'm sitting here," Janey said, making a point of settling into a vacant chair. She indicated for Henry to sit beside her.

Perhaps feeling as confused by everything as she was, he flashed a look at Isabella. She shrugged in response, and Henry gratefully settled beside Janey.

Sam looked like he was internally battling with something. God knows what. There was a free seat beside Janey, should he be so insistent that they sit together, but she also couldn't understand why he would care to.

Janey raised her eyebrows at him, challenging him. It seemed like the issue was not so much about Sam wanting to sit with Janey—for whatever made-up formality—but more so that he didn't want her to sit with Henry. But he was an idiot. She had two sides, after all.

Seemingly gritting his teeth, unable to find a reason for why this seating arrangement wouldn't work, Sam reluctantly settled into the free seat beside Janey.

Isabella, she noticed, seemed to be fuming. Not at Janey and Henry, but at Sam. Wordlessly, she went to sit beside her brother.

What the hell was going on? Janey felt somewhat responsible for whatever brewing intensity there seemed to be between the formerly happy couple, but she'd be damned if she knew what. Isabella, bizarrely, didn't seem all that perturbed by Henry and Janey's little flirtationship. Sam, on the other hand…

Janey felt the same brewing rage within her that she'd always felt towards Sam whenever Roman had been involved. How could he possibly have any objections to Janey potentially seeing Henry romantically? The entire reason for him having such an issue with her dating life had been because it had been cutting into their Prefect responsibilities—and that obviously was not an issue with Henry. In fact, Janey thought bitterly, since she'd been hanging out with Henry, Janey had been way more attentive with regards to the Prefect stuff. Sam had absolutely nothing to complain about!

Even so, his growing unease about the two potentially being together was palpable, though completely baffling.

Things didn't become any clearer once the meeting drew to a close. Janey wasted no time in trying to usher Henry away from Sam's penetrative gaze, intent to spend a few extra moments with him before curfew, but to almost no avail.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked, sounding panicked once more. "It's almost curfew."

"So?" Janey snapped.

"So where are you going?"

"That's none of your business."

Sam opened his mouth to protest.

"Aren't you going to the Ravenclaw Tower?" she reminded him, looking very pointedly at Isabella who had materialised beside him.

Sam side-eyed his girlfriend, like he hadn't realised she was even there. He looked uncertain. "Yeah, of course."

Isabella didn't say a word.

"Why?" Sam asked Janey, narrowing his eyes with suspicion.

"So if you've got ten minutes to spare before curfew then I must, too. It's not like you get any special treatment, is it?"

"Well, no," Sam spluttered. "But you—"

"Henry's walking me back to the Gryffindor Tower," Janey said firmly, taking hold of the boy in question's hand with authority, not even bothering to look at him to confirm whether it was okay with him. "You're going to the Ravenclaw Tower. And by the time we're both done, it'll be just in time for curfew, won't it?"

Sam looked like he was desperately searching for a good reason why Janey couldn't be accompanied by Henry back to the Gryffindor Tower, but given that he intended to pay his sister the same favour, came up short. What was even his problem?—Janey thought. Why was Sam so against Henry and Janey spending any time together outside of Prefect meetings? He'd acted weird when he'd turned up at the Hospital Wing too.

Likely he thought, by Janey associating with Henry, it was somehow tainting his own relationship with Isabella. Well, if that were the case, then Sam could suck it up and deal with it, because Janey certainly intended to further integrate Henry into her life—whether Sam liked it or not.

"I just don't think it's a good idea," Sam eventually said.

"Why?" Janey challenged.

"Because you're… not very reliable," he said in a weak voice before seeming to gain some conviction. "And I don't believe you'll really be back in time for curfew. And if you get in trouble, then we both get in trouble, and—"

By Sam's side, Isabella was looking embarrassed and impatient. "Sam, let's just go before—"

"Well, it's a good job Henry will be there then, won't it?" Janey cut across her furiously, glaring hard at Sam. "To stop me going astray and ruining both of our reputations."

Sam narrowed his eyes. "Well, it's not like that would do it any favours."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Janey was quickly losing her patience. The more time Sam wasted in the meeting room, the less time she would even get to spend with Henry. And she was longing to kiss him one more time…

"Maybe you shouldn't be wandering the corridors with guys from other houses anyway."

All three of them—Janey, Henry, and Isabella—stared at Sam, deeply taken aback and surely misunderstanding what he was daring to imply. Was he seriously suggesting that Janey walking the corridors at night with a guy would be… unseemly? What age were they living in?

And Henry couldn't have been a sweeter, more respectable boy to accompany Janey through the castle corridors at night—not like some of the unsavoury figures she probably shouldn't have been caught out late with in the past.

Isabella looked offended on her brother's behalf at Sam's implication, but he was ignoring her, focusing only on Janey. Henry himself had turned a faint pink colour. Given what Sam got up to with his sister, why the hell would he try and act so authoritative and suspicious of Henry's intentions with Janey?

"Are you being serious?" Janey demanded, her voice starting to reach a shrieky pitch. She was seconds away from snapping completely and screaming at Sam.

Sam didn't look like he really believed what he'd said, but he was refusing to back down. "Well, you're a Prefect, after all."

"So is he!"

"Look—" Henry had begun, perhaps in an attempt to alleviate some of the tensions, but Janey wasn't going to let him be intimidated by Sam of all people. Why was he even being such a jerk?

"And so are you!" Janey went on, still glaring up at Sam.

"So?"

"So—what? It's perfectly acceptable for you to be walking Isabella through the corridors late at night, but for me and Henry it's somehow something scandalous and unbecoming?" she asked sarcastically. "Are you really that much of a misogynistic arsehole?"

"It's different with me and Isabella," Sam insisted, though he really didn't look convinced.

It seemed, in Janey's opinion, that Sam had merely latched onto the first defence he could think of in order to protest Janey spending time with Henry. Again, she had to wonder why he even cared so much. But he couldn't backtrack, so instead, he was doubling down on his ridiculous argument. And he insisted Janey was the one who cultivated drama?

"Why?" Janey challenged, folding her arms across her chest.

"Because," Sam spluttered, frantically searching for a justification. "Because I'm her boyfriend!" he eventually declared.

Janey just rolled her eyes. She was done. With the argument. With Sam. With everything.

"Let's go," she said to Henry, extending a hand and completely ignoring a still-floundering Sam.

He took it a little hesitantly, exchanged some sort of look with Isabella, and then they were gone. Sam didn't protest or chase them down, but Janey could feel the anger emanating from him as he surely watched her and Henry depart the room hand-in-hand.

Neither said a thing until they had rounded the first corner, certain that nobody was chasing them down in a fit of rage.

"Are you okay?" Henry eventually asked, an edge of uncertainty in his voice.

"Why is he such a prick about everything?" Janey was unable to help from bursting out. She wanted to remain as cool and desirable as she felt she always had done in front of Henry, but Sam did something to her that nobody else did, instantly reducing her to an agitated state.

"Yeah," Henry agreed, frowning. "That was certainly… odd."

"What can he possibly have such a problem with?" Janey ploughed on, knowing she was probably ruining any chances of her and Henry actually sharing a romantic stroll back to the Tower but too riled up to care. "All that bullshit about our 'reputation' as Prefects—what age are we living in?"

Henry laughed politely.

"No one thinks it's scandalous and inappropriate for us to be hanging out together. He certainly didn't have that opinion when he was trailing after Isabella every night! Oh, but of course," Janey went on spitefully, "that's all perfectly acceptable because he's her stupid boyfriend. Like that even means anything!"

Henry had gone remarkably quiet. Janey looked to him in a panic, worried she was boring him, or had perhaps somehow offended him by talk of his sister's relationship. But Henry looked to be deep in thought about something.

"I'm sorry," Janey said in a much softer voice. "I don't want to ruin what little time we have together by talking about Sam. It's just—he really, really irritates me sometimes. It's like he does it on purpose." She shook her head in anger, still unable to truly comprehend what a wild turn the conversation in the meeting room had taken.

"It's okay," Henry said politely. And whether or not he was truly unbothered by her ranting, Janey was just grateful for his kindness

"What are you thinking about?" she dared to ask, hoping they could move on from the angry tensions and salvage at least a little bit of their late-night rendezvous before curfew really was upon them.

Henry seemed hesitant to answer, and Janey's heart began thumping erratically. That surely couldn't be good.

"I was just thinking," he said after a while, clearing his throat before he did so, "that the gist of Sam's unhappiness is that I am not, in fact, your boyfriend…"

Janey's heart, if possible, began beating even quicker. She dared to turn her head to look at him, so focused had she been on navigating the corridor ahead of her. "Oh?"

Henry glanced down at her too, his beautiful eyes shining with tenderness. "Yeah," he said softly. "It seems like all the complications and tensions would be removed if we were, actually, in an official relationship." He raised a suggestive eyebrow, and so too, an unspoken question.

Janey bit her lip. Normally, she would have freaked out at such an implication. They had only really been hanging out for a couple of weeks, after all. They had only kissed for the first time the week prior. But whether it was her continued frustrations towards Sam and all he'd said that evening, or how genuinely sweet and kind Henry was, it didn't seem to scare her as much as she might expect.

No romance in a long time had felt as authentic as the one she had shared with Henry so far, Janey considered. She didn't feel as uncertain and on edge as she had done with Roman—and with Deneb before him. Henry seemed like he had only the most honest intentions. He hadn't messed her around, he communicated well, and he didn't seem threatened or intimidated by the kind of girl Janey was. Could it really be so simple?

Surely, surely, it was too soon though…

The grin that had appeared on Janey's face was so strong she was struggling to suppress it. She felt far younger than her years—like she was experiencing her first crush all over again.

"I don't know," she said playfully. "It surely seems a bit fast, no?"

"True," Henry agreed. "I'm really just thinking of your esteemed reputation though."

Janey's heart sank slightly as the portrait of The Fat Lady came into view. She had hoped to have more time with Henry. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Henry said, coming to a halt in front of the portrait and turning to face Janey head-on. He really was cute, she couldn't help but think—both physically and in nature. Sam should take a page out of his book. "I would hate for your good name to be sullied by my accompanying you through the halls so late at night."

"Perhaps we should have arranged a chaperone?" Janey teased.

"Perhaps," Henry considered, grinning that adorable smile that she had so come to appreciate. "Who knows what kind of things we could get up to otherwise…"

Janey's heart gave one sudden, violent lurch, and she found herself desiring Henry in a way much stronger than she had yet to experience. It wasn't that she hadn't felt any passion previously, it's just that he had always seemed a bit too chivalrous, a bit too reserved—something quite different to a lot of the boys she'd been entangled with throughout her teenagehood so far. But he was acting flirtatious… wicked… and she liked it a lot.

Janey took a step towards him and peered up through her lashes in the way she knew drove boys crazy. "Like what?" she asked in a low voice.

Henry leant down, but he didn't kiss her. Janey was longing to grab him and close the gap herself, but she restrained herself, hungrily eyeing his mouth.

"Well," Henry said, his sweet smile morphing into a desirable smirk. "I suppose if I was your boyfriend," he said suggestively.

Janey could bear it no longer. She gripped at his shirt in the same way she had only a week ago, but the way she kissed him was much less reserved. It was only when The Fat Lady offered a sharp, pointed cough that Janey remembered where she was and what, exactly, she was doing. Sam could come sauntering down the corridor at any given moment—and yet somehow, this thought urged Janey to continue snogging the Ravenclaw boy in the most unapologetic way possible.

When she released him, they were both lightly panting, chests heaving in sync. Sweet Ravenclaw he may be, but Janey would certainly make a man of Henry Fontayne, mark her words. She could teach him a thing or two about how to engage in a good snog, and she had so much more she'd happily educate him in. He seemed only too eager to continue learning.

"Was that a yes?" he asked in a daze.

Janey's own smirk was uncontainable. "I don't recall you ever actually asking me a question."

They were so close that it was hard to tell whether or not the continuously thumping heartbeat belonged to him or to her.

"Alright, well—"

"Why don't you ask me again in the morning?" Janey cut across. "After I've had some time to think about it."

"Well, as you pointed out, I didn't actually ask you a question."

"And you can not ask me the same question tomorrow," Janey said playfully, their lips no longer touching but her hands still very much gripping the front of his shirt. She considered kissing him again, but as much as she wanted to, part of her thought it would have more of an effect to leave him desperately longing for more.

"Alright," Henry conceded, his voice still low and flirtatious. "But mark my words, Janey Davington, you are a terrible tease."

"I am," she murmured. "Hard to sully a reputation that's already so notoriously salacious, isn't it?" God, what she would pay for Sam to walk in on them in such an intimately compromising position right then.

"Well, goodnight," Henry murmured softly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight," Janey said back, finally relinquishing her grip on his shirt. She already missed the closeness. "Be a good Prefect and get back to your own common room before curfew. You wouldn't want to be caught associating with the likes of a girl like me." She arched a seductive eyebrow, unsure whether Henry had really bitten his lip or if she was imagining it.

He looked like he was considering kissing her again, and Janey absolutely would have welcomed it, but they both held their ground. Probably for the best. Janey was certain The Fat Lady was about to make a suggestive remark.

"Goodnight," Henry said one final time, his voice as soft as his lips had been.

Janey watched him go with a fluttering heart, grinning the entire time he made his way down the corridor until he eventually disappeared from view. She lingered for a few moments, staring at the space he had just been, wondering if it really could be all that easy.

In truth, Janey hadn't wanted to make a committed decision right there and then—about whether she and Henry should label what they had as an official relationship. She at least wanted the night to consider the request properly. On one hand, Henry was so incredibly sweet, and kind, and charming, he clearly adored her, and he had very much proven that he could more than handle the physical passion she so required. They had great chemistry, he was completely respectful of her—and he was a Quidditch player! Absolutely what she would be looking for in a boyfriend.

But then, commitment was also something that greatly intimidated Janey. After Deneb, and then Roman… Didn't it all feel too soon? There was no rush. Perhaps they needed the test of time to see if they could maintain that chemistry before they hastily committed already. Janey was certain Henry would be more than respectful if she voiced this to him, and she was sure he had only, in part, suggested defining their relationship as a jovial response to Sam's insane taunts.

It was with this in mind that Janey slipped through the Portrait Hole. Perhaps it was exactly where they were headed—and the thought didn't scare her like it might once have done—but Janey was content to merely keep dating Henry for the time being. She didn't need to call him her boyfriend just yet. And she was sure, when she spoke to him tomorrow, that he would be on the same page.

Janey made an immediate beeline for her usual group. Only James and Sam were missing, both of them presumably skulking around the castle with their significant others.

"You seem remarkably happy," Taylor said suspiciously as Janey slid down beside her.

"Where's Sam?" Rose had asked at the same time.

"Oh, Merlin," Gwen said, jokingly. "Are the two related? Did you kill him?"

"Ha-ha," Janey said drily. "Not tonight—though God knows I'm one step closer. No," she sighed dismissively. "He's probably out sullying our esteemed reputation as Prefects by attempting to get off with his boring girlfriend."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Albus said whilst Rose looked alarmed.

Janey cocked her head, curious. What did Albus know about Sam's whereabouts or his relationship with Isabella that she didn't? They were roommates, after all—perhaps they talked about that kind of thing.

But the truth was revealed to be far less interesting as Albus nodded to something over Janey's shoulder. She turned her head and automatically rolled her eyes as she identified Sam clambering into the common room himself. She wondered if he and Henry had crossed paths at all.

He looked downcast and annoyed, and this made Janey feel giddy. She, herself, was having a wonderful evening, despite Sam's best efforts to ruin it—but he certainly looked rattled by something. Had he and Isabella argued, Janey wondered. The giddiness only increased.

"Sam!" Rose called out, ushering him over to their group. Janey was in such a good mood that she didn't even care.

Sam obligingly followed Rose's gesture, his eyes drifting slowly over Janey as he did so, his expression unreadable.

"Careful," Janey couldn't help but say as Sam settled between Rose and Albus. "Aren't you supposed to be keeping a ten-foot safety barrier between you and Rose?"

As the others unsubtly sniggered, Sam shot Janey a familiar glare, his expression now entirely readable. "Give it a rest," he said in a warning voice.

"Oh, sure," Janey drawled, "because you've been acting so pleasant this evening."

"What happened?" Rose asked, looking panicked as she glanced between the pair of Prefects.

"Nothing," Sam insisted.

Janey wasn't letting him off the hook so easily though. "Sam's allowed to snog his way around the Hogwarts corridors, but I'm not even allowed to stand next to a boy without being branded a filthy slut," Janey snarled, surprised by how bitterly it came out. She had only been somewhat joking, but the vitriol in her words seemed to have sprung from something she hadn't been conscious of until they'd left her mouth.

Taylor, Gwen, and Rose all looked at Sam sharply, eyebrows raised. Albus looked embarrassed, while Mason just looked confused.

Sam's own face had turned pink under such scrutiny. "I did not say that," he said quickly, most of his apologetic eye contact being aimed at Rose, which only angered Janey further. Why did he care more about what Rose thought of him than he cared about actually apologising to Janey—the girl he had insulted in the first place?

"Ha!" Janey scoffed.

"All I said," Sam jumped in defensively, now having the decency to focus his gaze on Janey, "is that it was more appropriate for me to be walking Isabella back to her common room that close to curfew because I'm her boyfriend, and—"

"Well, you don't have to worry about it being so inappropriate for me and Henry to be seen together after hours by those metrics anymore," Janey interrupted, heart pounding with fury.

Sam looked taken aback.

"Wait—what?" Rose asked excitedly, seeming taken aback in a much more positive manner.

Janey's heart continued to beat so loudly that it drowned out any logic in her mind as she spoke her next words. "Yeah," she taunted, staring straight at Sam with a smug, triumphant grin. "Henry and I are official."

Sam held her gaze, uncertain whether it was a joke or not, but when Janey maintained her own stare, he gulped, seemingly accepting it. "Oh," was all he said.

Janey felt irritated. She had wanted a bigger reaction, but she wasn't sure what—or why, exactly.

"He asked you to be his girlfriend?" Rose asked, endeared and enthralled.

"Yep," Janey said brightly, heart still pounding.

"And you said yes?" Taylor asked, looking suspicious.

Janey gulped. "Yes," she said casually, now very much avoiding looking at not just Sam but anybody directly, lest they sense her deceit. Rose was the romantic one, but Janey was well aware that Taylor and Gwen would be highly sceptical at the supposed news of Janey agreeing to be someone's girlfriend after only a proper week of hanging out romantically. It didn't help that she had very much been insisting there was hardly any such romance between Henry and herself as good as a few days ago.

"Oh, Janey, that's so great!" Rose insisted excitedly.

"Well," Sam announced, his voice weirdly gruff. "You're welcome."

Janey turned to look at him once more, eyebrows raised. "Excuse me?"

"He probably only asked because I pointed out that you weren't official yet," he said, oddly sulky.

"Oh, no he did not," Janey immediately protested. She would not have her—and her brand new relationship—reduced to some kind of last-minute consideration due to Sam of all people. "You really can't go one day without making everything be about you, can you?"

Albus was the one to audibly groan. "Can we please not ruin another Friday night with you two arguing?" he addressed Sam and Janey when all heads turned to him.

"I'm not the one trying to start an argument," Sam protested.

"Then why are you trying to belittle mine and Henry's relationship?"

"It was a joke," Sam forced himself to say through gritted teeth. He seemed particularly aggravated, but Janey was sure it was more to do with whatever must have gone down with Isabella before he'd arrived than about herself, per se. He had seemed a lot wearier and on edge over the past week.

"Well, I don't appreciate it," Janey went on. "You think because of your boring girlfriend you're some kind of relationship expert now?"

Janey felt Rose tense by her side, and she didn't need to look at the shocked faces of her friends to know she had taken it too far.

"Don't insult Isabella," Sam snapped, his voice dangerous and full of warning.

"I can do what I like," Janey insisted, rising to her feet. She wasn't going to allow herself to get worked up and engage any further. Albus was right. It must be pretty grating for all the others to have to constantly witness Sam and Janey's vitriolic back-and-forth. But she was going to be the bigger person and remove herself from the situation before it spiralled again.

Some alone time would do her good anyway. She needed some time to come to terms with the fact that she had just publicly declared that she and Henry were, in fact, in an official relationship—without actually having confirmed it with the boy in question himself…

It had been an impulse, spurred on by Sam's jibes, but she couldn't undo it now. Janey either had to fully commit or awkwardly backtrack and admit to them all that she had been stretching the truth of the situation.

And she was hardly going to do the latter.

"Janey," Rose pleaded weakly, but Janey knew it would probably be appreciated by them all if she left.

She stole a final glance at Sam before she departed. He looked a little guilty, but it seemed to be masked by the growing anger clearly etched into his face. Feeling flustered, Janey almost ran headfirst into James, who had apparently just entered through the portrait hole himself.

"What's going on?" were the last words she heard as she hurried up the stairs to her dorm room.

As Janey settled down onto her mattress, her thoughts turned back to Henry. God, what had she done? She shouldn't have let Sam get under her skin in the way that she had—she now apparently had a boyfriend she had to account for because of her inability to not rise to his bait. What was she going to do?

Janey audibly groaned, burying her head in her hands. That stupid Gryffindor impulsiveness had complicated things once more. She couldn't backtrack now—not when she had made such a scene in front of her friends. In front of Sam.

Oh, well, she thought somewhat miserably—she supposed she had a boyfriend now.

But was it really so bad? Henry was sweet, and surely it had been going in that direction anyway? All Janey knew, as she turned onto her side, staring blankly at the wall opposite her, was that she felt oddly hollow. Which she didn't really think was how you were supposed to feel upon the first day of entering into a new romantic relationship.

But perhaps she would feel differently in the morning.

Apparently having a girlfriend didn't make girls any easier to understand. That was what Sam was painfully coming to terms with. He apparently couldn't even go one day without upsetting Isabella in some new, unexpected way, and it was stressing him out.

The Gryffindor girls' constant analytical debriefing of every interaction he was having with her wasn't at all helping. Eye-opening as it may be—for him to learn how spectacularly idiotically and obliviously he was upsetting her with every minuscule thing he did—he thought he'd prefer to remain in blissful ignorance. Things had certainly seemed a lot easier before she had branded him her boyfriend.

But Sam didn't want to think like that. He wasn't at all ungrateful for his relationship, and he felt guilty for even having such negative thoughts. It wasn't about Isabella anyway, he convinced himself. It was all to do with him and how he kept messily mishandling everything. It didn't help that it had all become such a great source of amusement for all his friends

Janey had been the ringleader of course. Her taunts about Isabella being needy and obsessive had delighted James so much that it now seemed to be accepted as truth that she was nothing more than some kind of psychotic harpy.

Sam felt incredibly defensive. Sure, Isabella could be a little intense—there was no denying it—but that was only because she cared so much. And wasn't it deeply flattering that she cared so much for Sam? That she was so fiercely protective of their relationship that she didn't want him even sharing space with other girls?

In truth, it was all very isolating. Sam knew he couldn't integrate Isabella into his main friendship group—for several reasons. James, for one, was often overbearing and inappropriate for those who hadn't become accustomed to his childish demeanour over years of forced proximity—and Isabella's sense of humour was far too delicate to handle that in large doses. Then there was Janey. The two girls couldn't stand each other, and even though he often wished it weren't so, Janey was a permanent fixture of Sam's inner social circle. There would never be harmony between the two.

And then there was Rose. For some insane reason, Isabella had fixated on Rose above all his other female friends. Well, Sam wasn't stupid—he knew exactly why—but it was still infuriating. Isabella was always paranoid about Sam and Rose spending any kind of time together, despite the fact that it always occurred as part of a large group, and despite Sam's continued insistence that neither of them were remotely interested in the other romantically. Sam had found himself having to tiptoe around his own girlfriend where one of his closest friends was concerned, and it was making him miserable.

Sam cared for Rose too much to cut her out of his life as easily as all that. He had befriended her on his first day at Hogwarts and sat with her during the feast following their Sorting. She had quite literally been his very first friend at the school, and yes, it had very quickly spiralled to a pretty heavy crush, but she would always be special to him for the pure innocence of it all. He felt closer to Rose than he even felt to his own roommates. Sam and Albus had bonded quickly out of the Gryffindor boys in their year, but the Potter boy had also somehow immediately befriended Scorpius Malfoy, despite being in opposing houses—a kinship that very much existed to that very day.

Rose was probably Sam's best friend. She knew him better than anyone, and he trusted her more than anyone else he knew. Ever since Scorpius had been cut out of the equation where Rose was concerned, things had never been better between them. And it hadn't been romantic or fuelled by unrequited longing and messy emotions like it might once have been—it had been pure, and fun, and true. But Janey had been right in her prediction—Isabella was going to try and force complete and total separation between Sam and Rose.

She hadn't outright said it or made any compromising demands, but Isabella's growing distress where Rose was concerned was becoming more apparent with each passing day. If ever Sam mentioned spending any time with his friends, or the classes he was attending, Isabella was quick to question whether Rose was present, and if the answer was yes—which it so often was—she grew instantly cold and despondent.

So Sam had taken it upon himself to prioritise Isabella as best he could. He hadn't yet extended to outright lying to her, but he was learning how to avoid telling the direct truth where his and Rose's companionship was concerned. Isabella was happiest when it was just the two of them, and Sam owed it to her to put her first. She was his girlfriend, after all.

And on the other side of things, whenever Sam was with his friends, sans Isabella, there was near-constant grilling and teasing targeting both her and their relationship. It was starting to get exhausting, and Sam found he couldn't feel quite at ease when he was in the company of either side—Isabella or his Gryffindor friends.

Henry and Janey's new relationship wasn't helping in any sense of the word. Sam couldn't pretend like he hadn't noticed how happy they both seemed. Henry certainly wasn't acting clingy and possessive. He seemed vastly different to his sister in that sense—easy-going and light-hearted—and Sam had noticed him and Janey giggling together, holding hands, lost in their own little bubble of happiness. They made it look so easy.

"What are you thinking about?" Isabella asked suspiciously.

She and Sam were out in the grounds. It was now November and growing ever-colder as they crept closer to the Winter months. But Sam enjoyed the crisp sting of the cold air, and Isabella much preferred when she and Sam spent time together outside. He suspected it had something to do with the fact that Rose often frequented the library—which was where they had always used to spend free time.

Sam expected, in her warped mind, Isabella likely thought it to be Rose, but he would rather admit to that than confess he was actually thinking of her brother's relationship with the other girl she despised.

"Quidditch," Sam said absentmindedly.

Isabella seemed to relax. "Oh."

"We have practice coming up—soon, actually. There's, err, another match sometime before Christmas."

"Against the Slytherins?"

"Yeah," Sam confirmed.

Isabella smiled. "It will be weird when it comes down to Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, won't it?"

Sam smiled too. It was so nice when it was simple like that. Just him and her talking about casual things like Quidditch. "You mean you're not going to root for the Lions?"

"Absolutely not!" Isabella laughed. "I have to be loyal to my own house."

"Rightly so," Sam agreed.

"And my brother's on the team."

"Mhmm, but don't think I'll go any easier on him than I would in any other game."

Henry was a Chaser, and he was pretty good. Sam had a lot of respect for the boy, but he also felt increasingly uneasy around him. Not just because he was dating his sister, but because of Henry's relationship with Janey. Sam didn't trust that Henry was in it for the right reasons, and the more invested Janey grew, the more guilty Sam felt. Would they have ever gotten together in the way that they had if Sam hadn't pushed Isabella to ask Henry to start spending time with her?

It seemed unlikely. And if that had been the thing to spark the whole torrid affair then how genuine could it really be?

"I'd expect nothing less," Isabella answered kindly.

Sam smiled at her, feeling warm and grateful. They'd had such a pleasant afternoon together, and it felt refreshing and reassuring. He took hold of her hands and gave it a loving squeeze.

Isabella looked delighted. She leant over to plant a kiss on Sam's cheek, and when she withdrew, the skin her lips had touched felt especially tingly.

"I should probably get going," he said apologetically, wishing he could prolong that tender moment of catharsis between them. Who knew when it would next come crashing down because he inexplicably put a toe out of line somehow.

"Well, I've got to head to the Owlery to send my mum a letter," Isabella said in agreement.

"Do you want me to walk you there?" Sam offered. He had learnt from the girls how important it apparently was to accompany Isabella everywhere she went—even if she insisted he didn't need to. "I probably have time."

And there it was. The dimming of light in her eyes. The slight frown on her lips.

Shit.

"Why—where are you going?" Isabella asked suspiciously.

Sam stared at her, feeling stupid. "To Quidditch practice—I told you." Had he not said that? He was certain he had said that. Was he going insane?

"Now?" Isabella asked in an alarmingly shrill voice.

Sam's heart was pounding in panic, but he forced himself to remain calm on the outside. "Yes, Izzy," he said in what he hoped was a calm and soothing voice.

"You never said now," Isabella insisted. "You said soon."

"Yes," Sam said slowly, trying hard not to adopt a sarcastic tone. "Soon as in soon. As in this evening. As in, well, now." Had that not been obvious? Perhaps he hadn't phrased it very well. But why did it even matter? She'd said she needed to head off to the Owlery anyway, so what was the issue?

"Will Rose be there?"

Ah. But of course…

"Yes, Izzy," Sam said, still hoping he was coming off as calm, though on the inside he wanted to scream. "She's on the team," he reminded her.

Isabella looked particularly pouty, but Sam hoped it would be enough for her to accept. He could hardly avoid Rose in such situations, could he? Not that he felt like he even had to—though he dared not suggest any such sentiments to Isabella.

"Can I see you after?" she asked, and Sam relaxed. It seemed as though they had avoided a potential drama.

He kissed her on the cheek in a similar way to how she had kissed him just moments ago, and he felt her delight at such an action. "Of course." He had a sudden idea. "You could come and watch if you wanted?"

"Really?"

She seemed excited by the thought. Sam didn't think the others would mind, and maybe it would help put Isabella's mind at ease if she could witness the interactions between Sam and Rose firsthand. They barely interacted in the air anyway, most of the communication occuring between the Beaters and the Chasers—surely there could be nothing to slight Isabella. But then again, Sam wasn't so sure. She already seemed able to perceive meaning in every little exaggerated thing.

"I could bring Henry," Isabella said excitedly. "And then he could support Janey too!"

Sam's stomach immediately dropped. "I, err, I don't think that's such a good idea, Izzy."

She narrowed her eyes in confusion. "Why not?"

"Well, first and foremost, because Henry is on the Ravenclaw team," Sam pointed out.

"Oh." Isabella looked mollified.

Sam found himself grinning despite the uneasiness he still felt. "I, ah, I don't think the team would appreciate it so much if I invited opposing Quidditch players to spy on our training sessions. I mean, they might even be wary of you," he teased.

But Isabella seemingly wasn't in the mood for playful banter. "What's the other reason?" she asked.

Sam frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You said 'first and foremost', which implies at least a second reason—if not more."

God, she was perceptive. "Well…" Sam gulped. Dare he broach it? He took a breath, deciding to employ a bit of Gryffindor courage. If he couldn't talk about it with Isabella then who could he? "I still feel a bit uneasy about the whole 'Janey and Henry' thing," he eventually admitted.

Isabella looked so sharply distrustful that Sam had to question whether he had said something entirely different to what he'd thought he'd said. Isabella was regarding him like he had just said something in the vein of, "I feel a bit uneasy about dating you because I fancy Rose Weasley," instead of voicing his concerns about them continuing to lead Janey on with what he perceived to be a fake relationship.

"And it feels a bit weird to keep encouraging it," Sam went on sheepishly, uncertain about her reaction.

Isabella looked slightly relieved, and Sam was baffled as to why. What had she thought he could possibly mean when he'd said he felt uneasy about the two of them continuing to date?

"Sam," Isabella sighed. "We already talked about this!"

"But it's getting even more serious," Sam protested in a weak voice. "They're, like, official official—according to Janey anyway. That's what she thinks."

"She thinks that because it's true," Isabella insisted, looking weary. "I'm telling you, Sam, Henry isn't playing around with her, and he's not just doing this for our benefit—I can assure you."

"But if we hadn't said anything to him then he never even would have considered it."

"Maybe," Isabella said calmly. "But why does it matter?"

"Well"—Sam blushed—"because it's—I mean—it's not—"

"Real?" Isabella questioned.

Sam said nothing, but he didn't need to.

"It is real," Isabella insisted once more. "As much as I might dislike her, my brother cares about Janey, and he seems really happy. I don't want her in my life any more than you do, but this is a good thing! Why can't you see that?"

Sam didn't feel at all reassured, and he didn't really know how to answer. "Alright, I guess," he eventually conceded, knowing it was no use trying to persuade her around to his way of thinking. "But it's moving pretty quickly, don't you think?"

"Yeah, well, that's probably because you taunted them about not being official," Isabella pointed out.

Sam gulped. He wasn't sure why he had acted the way he had that evening, and he still felt embarrassed about it. In truth, he hadn't wanted Henry walking Janey around the school because it felt duplicitous. He felt like he was actively partaking in the deception of Janey and falsely encouraging her emotional investment in Henry Fontayne—one he surely did not genuinely return—and he had just been trying to protect her. He hadn't meant to imply anything scandalous and untoward, but he hadn't had a better excuse for why he was so avidly trying to keep them separated.

Sam had severely made up for it on the walk back to the Ravenclaw Tower though. Isabella had been rightly furious, chastising Sam for not only embarrassing her but somehow trying to sully the reputation of her brother too. She had even defended Janey—a sure indication to Sam that he had really screwed up.

He had meant to ask Isabella to apologise to Henry on his behalf, but then Janey had revealed that they were now exclusively together, and suddenly it didn't seem relevant. He might even have apologised to Janey, but if she'd gotten a boyfriend out of it then maybe it had been a blessing in disguise.

Although, this line of thinking did nothing to lessen the guilt Sam felt in the pit of his stomach. Janey and Henry's entire relationship seemed to hinge on Sam's intervention—whether they knew it or not. It wasn't genuine, whatever Isabella insisted, and Janey should be made aware of that before it got even more out of hand. That's what he honestly felt.

"Don't," Isabella said in a warning voice, like she could somehow read his mind. "I care about my brother, Sam, and for better or worse, he apparently cares about her. You are only going to hurt both of them if you say anything."

Sam knew, on some level, that she was right. And if it was important to her then maybe he should just swallow his pride and let it be. Janey did seem truly happy, and Henry seemed respectful of her. Perhaps there wasn't anything manipulative and duplicitous about the whole affair at all.

When Sam didn't immediately answer, pondering it all deeply, Isabella narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Why do you even care so much?" she asked.

Sam fought the urge to gulp once more, worried it would look incriminating. But it felt like Isabella was accusing him of something, and he didn't want either of them to voice it. "I don't. I just don't want her to get hurt. I wouldn't want anybody to get hurt," he clarified, hoping the blush in his cheeks didn't reaffirm any suspicions she might incorrectly have.

Isabella didn't look reassured, but she didn't push it any further. "Just don't get involved, Sam," she warned with finality. "That's the only way she'll get hurt."

"Alright," Sam agreed, knowing there was no use in protesting further. He squeezed the hand he was still holding and offered a small smile to assure her he meant it.

Isabella returned his smile, relaxing. "Well," she declared. "I really do need to go to the Owlery."

"I'll come with you," Sam said. "But then I've got to go to Quidditch practice."

Isabella didn't seem as impacted by this declaration as she initially had. "You don't have to come with me," she said, but she did so kindly.

"But I will," Sam declared, and the grin that spread across Isabella's face confirmed it had been the right thing to do. See? He was learning.

As Sam and Isabella strolled hand-in-hand to the Owlery, neither of them had any way of knowing that it was the last truly romantic moment they would share. Nobody could have foreseen the imminent, tumultuous storm that was about to engulf the students of Hogwarts.

Author's Note: Title and epigraph inspired by Taylor Swift's 'Don't Blame Me'

Next chapter will be in two weeks time!