Chapter 10 - Halloween

Ava woke slowly, the soft gray light of early morning slipping through the curtains. For a moment, she stayed still beneath her blankets, staring at the canopy overhead as the memories of yesterday trickled back.

Fred's voice echoed in her head. It was not the usual teasing one, but the cold, biting tone she'd heard in the corridor.

"She's not a prize."

She shut her eyes.

It wasn't the words themselves that haunted her, but the way he'd said them. Like he meant them with every ounce of his heart. Like it pained him. Like she had done something wrong. And maybe she had.

Ever since that night in the common room, the night of soft touches and whispered almost-confessions, everything had shifted. She didn't know what to call it. What to make of it. And now, Fred wouldn't even look at her.

It hurt more than she wanted to admit.

The beds around her were still full, muffled snores and soft breathing filling the room. Ava pulled her blanket up over her mouth and stared at the window, the soft blue of dawn slowly fading into gold.

Today was her date with Oliver.

She should be excited. And part of her was. But beneath the excitement was a knot in her stomach that hadn't gone away since the hallway confrontation since Fred had grabbed Oliver and slammed him against the wall like something had snapped.

Ava sighed and rolled onto her side.

Then someone jumped on her bed.

"Aaaaaand she's awake!" Lindsay squealed, bouncing on her knees and grabbing Ava by the shoulders. "You have a date today!"

Ava groaned. Her face now half-buried in her pillow. "It's too early to be this loud."

"It's too late to be that calm," Lindsay shot back, shaking her by the shoulders. "Come on, Ava! You're going out with Oliver freaking Wood!"

Leia walked in, already dressed in a sleek maroon jumper, a single brow raised. "Merlin, Lindsay, let her breathe."

"I'm just trying to keep her from crawling back under the covers and pretending this isn't the biggest deal of her teenage life."

Ava sat up, rubbing her eyes. "It's not the biggest deal," she mumbled.

"You're a terrible liar," Lindsay grinned. "You're glowing already. What are you going to wear?"

"I don't know. Jeans. A sweater. It's cold," Ava said with a yawn as she started making her bed.

Leia scoffed and crossed the room to her trunk. "You're not wearing just jeans and a sweater. You're going on a date with the captain of the Quidditch team, not a quick dash to the library." She rummaged through neatly folded stacks of clothing. "You'll wear this."

She tossed a folded sweater to Ava. It was white, and soft, with a foldover neckline that dipped off the shoulders. It was understated, but undeniably flattering.

Ava blinked at it. "Won't that be… cold?"

"It's called layering," Leia said as if it were obvious. "Wear your cloak. But when you take it off, you'll look…" she gave her a deliberate once-over, "...perfect."

Ava glanced over at Lindsay, who gave a sheepish shrug. "You can borrow my pink jumper next time?"

Ava smiled at both of them and padded toward the bathroom with the clothes draped over her arm. She tugged on the sweater first. It fit snugly, Leia wasn't wrong. Then slipped into her favorite dark jeans and pulled her hair down around her shoulders. She studied her reflection for a long moment. She looked… nice. Not just presentable. Not just fine. But nice.

Soft, but not weak. Capable of turning heads, maybe even Fred's. If he were still looking.

When she came back into the room and spun once for the girls, Lindsay let out a satisfied hum.

"You're gonna knock him out cold," she said.

Leia simply nodded. "Told you. Perfect."

Ava smiled, but her fingers found the hem of the sweater, twisting it absently.

She was excited. She was looking forward to seeing Oliver.

But somewhere in the back of her mind, she could still hear Fred's voice.

She's not a prize.

It had been meant for Oliver, sure.

But it landed right in her chest.


Ava tugged the hem of her sweater one more time as she stepped into the corridor. The white foldover neckline exposed her shoulders to the chill of the castle halls, but she couldn't deny she liked the way it looked. Leia's sweater was snug (perhaps a size too small) but it clung to her in all the right places, giving her a quiet thrill of confidence as she headed toward the Great Hall.

Her boots echoed softly as she passed knots of students gathered in little clusters, chattering about Hogsmeade plans, the latest gossip, and Quidditch strategies. Her heartbeat thrummed beneath her skin. First real date. With Oliver Wood. The same boy who used to feel like a dream when she spotted him across the common room.

So why did her stomach feel like it was full of fluttering moths instead of butterflies?

She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice the figure coming around the corner until she nearly collided with him.

A firm hand reached out to steady her. "Careful there."

Ava looked up, startled, to see Professor Lupin watching her with calm, curious eyes.

"Oh…sorry, Professor," she said quickly, taking a step back. "Didn't see you."

"No harm done," he said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You're headed somewhere?"

She hesitated, just a beat too long. "Just… getting some fresh air," she said casually, adjusting the strap of her bag. "Stretching my legs. I'm not… actually going to Hogsmeade."

His expression shifted slightly. "No permission slip, then?"

Ava sighed. "Nope. My father didn't sign it." She tried to keep her voice light, but the words still felt sharp. "He thinks it's safer if I stay on school grounds."

Lupin's eyes flicked across her face, something unreadable behind his gaze. "Of course he does," he murmured, more to himself than to her.

She tilted her head. "Sorry?"

But he smiled again, softer now. "Nothing. Just… overprotective fathers are known for making bold decisions. Maybe next year when things have calmed down your father might change his mind."

Ava gave a short laugh, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.

Lupin studied her for a moment longer, then said, in a low, almost casual voice, "If you do happen to wander the halls for a while… I recommend avoiding the third floor corridor near the portrait of Gregory the Smug. Especially the tapestry of the dancing trolls."

Ava blinked. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Well, let's just say it leads somewhere a student without a permission slip might find… interesting. If she were prone to wandering."

Their eyes met, and for a moment, Ava could've sworn he knew. Knew everything. About the map. About the twins. About her slipping through a hidden passage to Hogsmeade. But he didn't say anything more and only offered her one last knowing smile.

"Enjoy your walk, Ava," he said gently. "And try to keep your feet on solid ground."

She nodded slowly, her thoughts already turning.

"Thank you, Professor. I'll… keep that in mind."

As she continued on, she glanced over her shoulder once. Lupin was already walking the other way, his hands in his pockets.

Her heart gave a little flutter. The third floor. Gregory the Smug. The tapestry of the dancing trolls. That was the exact route Fred and George had pointed out when they'd shown her the Marauder's Map.

How did he know?

Ava shook her head, confused, but smiling. It didn't matter. She had a date to get to.


The Great Hall buzzed with its usual Saturday morning energy. Students were lounging at half-filled tables, chattering over toast and pumpkin juice. While some were still in their dressing gowns, others were already dressed and ready for Hogsmeade. The enchanted ceiling above was a pale, wintry blue, streaked with clouds that threatened snow later in the day.

Ava stepped through the heavy oak doors, tugging once more at the hem of her sweater. Her eyes swept the room instinctively and landed on Fred.

He was seated at the end of the Gryffindor table beside George and Lee Jordan, one leg stretched out beneath the bench, the other propped casually on the seat. A deck of cards was spread between the three of them, with a scattered pile of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans serving as makeshift betting chips. Their half-eaten breakfast sat forgotten as they leaned in, whispering and laughing.

Fred tilted his head back, laughing at something George had said, eyes half-lidded, dimples cutting into his cheeks and for a moment, Ava froze.

She hadn't seen him since the hallway. Since everything.

He looked up at the same time.

Their eyes met just for a second. And then Ava looked away.

Her stomach twisted. He hadn't said a word to her. Hadn't even looked her way until now. And when he did… it wasn't the Fred she was used to. He looked at her like she was someone he used to know. Or worse… someone he wished he didn't.

"Bloody hell," Oliver's voice cut through her thoughts. She turned to find him standing beside her, his grin spreading wide as his eyes traveled the length of her frame. "You look… incredible."

Ava flushed, fingers twitching at the hem of her sweater. "Thanks," she murmured, offering a faint smile.

Oliver stepped forward, looping an arm around her waist with practiced ease. She stiffened slightly at the contact but didn't pull away.

"Ready?" he asked, grin still firmly in place.

She nodded. "Yeah."

As they turned to leave the Hall, Ava cast a final glance over her shoulder. It was just a flicker of a look towards him. Fred had gone back to the game. Or at least, he was staring down at the cards in his hands like they'd suddenly become unreadable.

George noticed. He caught Ava's glance and raised his brows, just slightly. Lee, oblivious to everything, shoved a handful of beans into his mouth with a loud crunch and proclaimed, "Earwax! Bloody brilliant."

Oliver's hand shifted slightly at her back as they stepped into the corridor. The moment the doors to the Great Hall closed behind them, his voice dropped, low and meant only for her.

"Merlin, you look sexy as hell in that."

Ava blinked. Heat crept up her neck, but not in the same way it had when he first saw her. There was something in his tone. It was not just flirty, but possessive. Like he'd claimed her.

She let out a nervous laugh, trying to wave it off. "Well… I'll let Leia know. It's her sweater."

Oliver chuckled but didn't say anything else.

As they walked down the corridor toward the castle entrance, Ava tried to refocus. She wanted to feel the excitement she'd been telling herself she should feel. After all, this was Oliver Wood. Her first real date. A day in Hogsmeade.

So why did something feel… off?

Maybe it was just nerves.

Yeah. It had to be the nerves.


Fred didn't look up again when the doors to the Great Hall swung shut.

At least, not right away.

He pretended to study his cards, though he hadn't taken a single turn since Oliver showed up. Lee was halfway through a story about a frog that bit a second-year on the nose, but Fred only caught pieces of it. Something about fangs and a very unfortunate scream.

His jaw clenched. He could still hear Oliver's voice echoing in his head: You look sexy as hell in that. Fred's knuckles tightened around his cards.

She had looked good. Beautiful, even. The sweater was perfectly snug and dipped just enough to make him lose focus entirely. Her lips had a soft shimmer, and her hair curled neatly around her shoulders. Every bit of her had looked... radiant.

And she smiled like that for him. For Wood.

Not for him.

When she'd glanced back, just a flicker, barely a heartbeat, it had knocked the air right out of his lungs. For a second, he thought maybe she'd say something. Maybe she'd come back. But then she looked away.

Just like that.

Fred threw down his cards with a little more force than necessary. One of them skidded across the table, knocking over a pile of jelly beans.

George, seated next to him, raised a brow. "You alright there, mate? That poor six of clubs didn't deserve to die."

Fred leaned back, running both hands through his hair. "I'm fine," he muttered.

Lee snorted around a bite of toast. "Right. And I'm secretly Merlin reincarnated."

George exchanged a quick look with him, then leaned in and lowered his voice just enough that only Fred could hear. "You've got two choices," he said casually like he wasn't dealing with his brother slowly unraveling. "You can sit here and sulk while they go on their adorable little date…"

He reached into his bag and pulled out a folded, worn piece of parchment.

"…or we could follow them."

Fred's eyes narrowed. "Follow them?"

"Observe," George corrected, grinning. "We're conducting an independent study. Field research."

Lee perked up immediately. "Three Galleons says he tries to kiss her before they get to Honeydukes."

Fred said nothing. His gaze drifted to the map in George's hand.

The Marauder's Map.

George spread it open across the table, tapping it with his wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

The ink bloomed across the parchment elegant and sprawling revealing the castle's every corridor, staircase, and secret passage. The little labeled dots began to shift into motion.

There.

"Ava Johnson" and "Oliver Wood," side by side, already halfway down the entrance corridor.

George's grin tilted. "Still time to crash the party."

Fred stared down at the parchment, the knot in his chest twisting tighter. Then, slowly, the corner of his mouth twitched.

"Let's go ruin a perfectly good date."