Chapter Seven: Into The Woods

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Katie Bell, new captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, was freaking out. Their first game was in two weeks, and they were short two players. She had yet to find suitable replacements for Alicia Spinnet, and Oliver Wood, who’d both graduated the year before.

"Don’t worry so much, Katie," Angelina said. "We’ll find new players."

"Yeah," Harry encouraged.

Fred nodded. "Can’t be that hard."

Katie burst into tears. "I’m a horrible captain! Oliver would have never let this happen!"

"Wood was a raving loony, remember?" George asked. "You’re not."

"But we don’t have enough players!" Katie wailed. "And I’m a horrible captain!"

George shook his head. "That settles it...we need Wood."

**

The owl known as Hedwig flew into the small dorm room that belonged to Oliver Wood at four in the morning. He took the letter...and then another one. He read the first letter, which was a plea for help from his old Gryffindor Quidditch team.

He sighed. He couldn’t just up and leave school. As much as he loved Quidditch, and he loved Quidditch as if it were the only lover he’d ever had (and in all likelihood, it was), he needed to get some kind of degree. It was important to him to go to school. He wanted to learn, even if he was doing it the Muggle way.

The second letter made him go completely pale. It was from Professor Albus Dumbledore, and it contained a Daily Prophet article about two dead Muggles, and their supposed death eater murderers. He read the last paragraph twice:


I wish I didn’t have to request you here, but I’m loading up on reinforcements for the rest of the year. I want to be ready, and I know that I can count on you to be on my side when things begin to really sour. If you are willing to come, I can offer you a position as the teaching assistant to Professor Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, who is our new Magical History teacher, and a former Gryffindor.

On a lighter note, one Katie Bell is losing her mind as Gryffindor Quidditch captain, and would very much appreciate your council.

You do not have to owl back if you’re coming. You only need show up in Hogsmeade.

Sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore


Oliver wood didn’t even blinked before packing his things, simultaneously writing a letter to his parents.

**

The next day, Friday, Katie squealed in delight. She was clutching a letter tightly, while next to her, Harry was petting Hedwig.

"He’s coming!" Katie smiled. "Thank Merlin! He’s going to meet us in Hogsmeade this weekend!"

Harry smiled. "Great. I’ve missed him a bit."

"We all have," Angelina said, sitting on Harry’s other side in the common room. "Even if he is obsessive. It’ll be good to have him here for a while."

Hermione and Ron sat across from each other at the chess set, speaking quietly. Harry glanced their way, seeing both of them looking quite uncomfortable. He hoped they’d be all right. Ever since Ron had began receiving visions, Hermione had been nervous around him. Almost avoiding him, and it had made Ron quiet, which worried Harry to no end.

"I just...everyone is skirting around me like I’m on my deathbed," Ron explained, tapping a finger on the chess board. "I hate it. I’m still here, Hermione, and you’re treating me like I’m a ghost."

Hermione sighed. "I just...I don’t know how to react, Ron," she replied. "You’re...you’re going to die."

"Maybe not. And I’ve got a few years left. I don’t feel like I’m going to die. And there’s still a chance that-"

"I don’t know if I can deal with this. I think...I think we need to not...do what we’ve been doing."

Ron looked down. "So, this is it, then?"

"Ron, you’re going to die!"

"Why should that change how we feel about each other?!" Ron cried, slowly getting to his feet. "I still feel...things for you!"

Hermione looked up at him, nearly in tears. "I don’t think I can handle this. I can’t handle being with someone who could drop dead on the spot."

"I’m not going to drop dead!" Ron yelled.

"How do you know?! Why do you have to be so pig-headed about this?!" Hermione cried. "You think you’re so invincible that nothing can kill you?! Well this can! And it probably will..,and it’s my choice if I can’t deal with a dead boyfriend!"

Ron seemed to be without words. A mix of anger, and sadness and frustration played across his face, until he finally just stormed out of the Portrait hole.

Hermione burst into tears, and went running up to the girls tower.

Harry put his head against the back of the couch. "Damn."

**

Evelyn had opted not to go to Hogsmeade. She’d had enough of Hogsmeade.

Unfortunately, Draco Malfoy found out.

It was Saturday morning, and he was following her around.

"You like me," Malfoy kept saying. "There’s no denying it. You...like...me. Why else would you argue with me so much?"

"Harry argues with you," Evelyn said, still walking. "Ron argues with you. I doubt they’re in love with you."

"They’re boys!"

Evelyn stopped with a smirk. "And?"

"They don’t like other boys."

"How do you know?" Evelyn snickered. "Do you live in Gryffindor? I don’t think so."

Draco became flustered for a moment, but regained his grip when Evelyn began to walk again. He followed. "You do like me, though. Stop trying to hide it."

"I wouldn’t touch you with a forty-foot pole," she told him.

"What about a fifty-foot pole?"

"I’d beat the shit out of you with it."

**

"I don’t want to leave you alone, Ron, but we’re supposed to meet Oliver at the train."

Harry and Ron stood outside the Three Broomsticks.

"It’s okay, Harry," Ron replied. "I’ll be fine."

"You’re sure? You’re not going to go and have another one of those visions and fall over?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "I’ll be fine. Go on. Have fun."

"What about you?"

"I’m fine."

"You miss her already."

"Do not. She doesn’t want to be with me because I’m a freak, I understand."

"Ron, it’s not that you’re a freak," Harry cried. "She’s scared."

Ron’s complacent expression didn’t change. "Whatever."

"Damn it, Ron! Why don’t you take this seriously?! This thing could really kill you, and you don’t seem to care! Why the hell aren’t you scared?"

At Harry’s last word, Ron turned and walked away from him, down the street, toward Zonko’s.

Harry stood staring sadly at his best friend’s back before he was tapped on the shoulder by Katie.

"Come on, Harry. We’ve got to go get Oliver."

**

"OLLIE!"

Both Fred and George jumped Oliver Wood as he exited the train.

"We’ve missed you, Ollie!" George cried.

"Give us a kiss," Fred laughed, puckering up.

Katie shoved both of them out of the way and threw her arms around him. "Thank Merlin! I can’t do this Oliver! I just can’t! I’m not good at being captain!"

Oliver smiled and hugged his friend back. "Don’t worry. I’ll help."

Katie squeezed tighter, and Oliver choked. He looked around. "Dumbledore around?"

Harry shrugged. "Probably somewhere."

Fred smiled at two people approaching that Oliver didn’t recognize. "Professor O’Brien! Miss Chase!"

The two walked up; a tall man with dark hair and eyes and pale skin, a woman with short, brown, blond-streaked hair and tanned skin, looking quite curiously at the scene playing out before them.

"Professor, Miss Chase," George said. "Meet Gryffindor’s savior, Oliver Wood."

Oliver smiled at the two and held a hand out. "Nice t’meet ya."

The woman was staring at him with a strange face, almost in horror. He blinked, and slowly took his hand back. "Is somethin wrong?" he asked.

Cordelia couldn’t believe it. The hair color, the eyes, the face. It was the most uncanny thing she’d ever seen. Even the accent was dead-on. "Angel?" she asked softly. "Are you seeing..."

Angel nodded. "What did you say you’re name was?"

"Oliver Wood, Sir," he replied. He gave them a lopsided smile, that made Angel’s mind flash to a night years ago in LA when a certain friend had tried to get him to stop brooding and go out on a Friday night.

Cordelia couldn’t take it. Her eyes rolled back and she passed out.

Oliver blinked, obviously flustered. "Was it somethin’ I said?"

A dark alley flashed through his reeling head. Two familiar screams.

No.

Ron pushed off from the wall he’d been gripping and broke into a sloppy run for the...

**

They were talking when they’d been grabbed. Talking about Ron, about the visions. About her fears.

It really wasn’t their fault this time. They’d been walking by the alley, and two people had just nabbed them.

Ginny and Hermione were cowering in a corner from the two death eaters, who had their wands raised high with malicious smirks on their faces.

"Mudblood," one of them snarled at Hermione.

"EXPELARAMUS!"

Both of the death eater’s wands went flying out of their hands, and into the pale, shaking hand of Ron Weasley. They glared at him and began to advance. He took a step backwards, and hit something.

Actually, someone.

Ron whirled quickly, and nearly fell over from the sickened feeling in his head and stomach.

Both Professor Summers and Professor Morgan were standing there, stakes in hand.

The death eaters glared, and ran off, but not before Ginny tripped one of them. He snarled and grabbed for her, but didn’t quite reach, because Faith had tackled him to the ground.

Hermione and Ginny got up and ran to where Buffy and Ron stood.

"What were you guys doing?" Buffy said.

"It wasn’t our fault," Ginny said. "We got grabbed."

"It’s true," Ron said quietly, holding onto Ginny’s arm tightly to steady himself. "It wasn’t they’re fault."

"Ron?" Ginny asked worriedly.

"I saw..." he told them. "I saw what would have happened..." The dizziness became too much, and he began to fall backwards. Buffy caught him before he could.

"Okay," Buffy said. "I think it’s time we went back to Hogwarts, Ron. You look like you could use some chocolate."

"No food," Ron muttered. "Gonna toss."

"Oh, boy," Buffy muttered. "Faith. I’m taking Ron back to Hogwarts. Can you get that guy to Fudge or whoever?"

Faith got to her feet, dragging the beat-up death eater with her. "No prob."

Buffy sighed as she slowly walked Ron away from the scene. "You get the visions. You don’t fight off what’s in the visions. Multi-tasking isn’t a good idea."

"Couldn’t let them hurt my sister. Couldn’t let them get her."

Buffy stopped and stared at Ron’s weary, sad face. "Hermione dumped you, didn’t she?"

Ron didn’t replied. Not a nod or a shake of the head, just a stare in another direction.

She knew then that she and a certain Gryffindor a-student needed to have a chat.

**

"Cordelia, are you alright?"

She sat up and found that she was in the same place she’d been when she fainted. "Yeah...I think so."

Angel helped her to her feet, and she was faced with the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team, plus Oliver.

The boy blinked at her worriedly. "Are you alright?"

Cordelia closed her eyes and sighed. "I’m fine, Doy...Oliver."

"Who’s Doy?" Fred asked.

"Her boyfriend," George snickered.

"A boy named Doy?" Fred asked.

"Okay, you two," Angel smirked. "Cut it out."

"You just look a lot like someone I used to know," Cordelia explained. "No big. I’m good."

Oliver smiled and stuck out his hand again. "Care t’ try again, Ms. Chase?"

Cordelia shook his hand tiredly. "Nice to meet you."

Angel made a mental note to have a long talk with Albus Dumbledore.

**

Evelyn had stalked all over the grounds, and finally wound up in unfamiliar territory. She wasn’t stupid, though. She knew where she was.

"Dammit, Malfoy! You ran me right into the Forbidden Forest, you dumb-ass!"

Draco smirked and shrugged.

"You really are convinced that I have a thing for you," Evelyn said.

"Because you do," Draco said, his hands out. "It’s so obvious."

"Have you ever stopped to think that maybe you have a thing for me?" Evelyn asked. "You wouldn’t be following me if you didn’t. And why haven’t you said anything nasty all day, huh? It’s very un-Malfoy to not comment on my dementor-like appearance, or my criminal father. I believe you’re smitten with me. You, Draco Malfoy, are a Smitten Kitten!"

"I am not smitten!" Draco cried. "Malfoys don’t get smitten. And I am not a kitten!"

Evelyn giggled in a girlie manner. "You’d be cute as a kitten. Although, I’ve heard you make an adorable ferret."

"Potter told you that, didn’t he?!"

"Multiple times."

Draco stood there brooding.

"So, you really think there could be a thing here?" Evelyn asked

Draco rolled his eyes. "How many times do you intend to ask the same question?"

"As many times as it takes for me to stop feeling like you’ve gone out of your mind."

He stepped closer to her, and got right in her face. "I’m not crazy. You have a thing for me."

Evelyn smirked and shook her head. "You just don’t give up, do you?"

"Not ever."

They were very close to kissing, when a massive throat cleared behind them. They jumped apart and turned around.

"Hey, Hagrid. What’s shakin?" Evelyn asked, her normally pale face going red.

"The Forbidden Forest, it seems," Hagrid replied. "You two aren’t supposed to be here."

"What’re you gonna do about it?" Draco snapped.

Evelyn stepped on his foot, and put a hand to his mouth. "We’re really sorry, Hagrid. I was trying to get rid of this pest, but lost track of where I was going."

Hagrid sighed. "Alright. If it happens again, I’m gonna have at take points off."

"It won’t happen again," Evelyn replied. "Don’t worry."

Hagrid sighed as Evelyn walked passed him, dragging Draco with her.

**

Hermione returned to Hogwarts early, and steered clear of the hospital wing, where Ron had been ordered to spend the night. She couldn’t deal with him. She needed time. She sat in the empty library trying to read a large text book, but the words seemed meaningless.

"Hermione?"

She nearly jumped out of her seat at the male voice. She turned to see her uncle standing there. "Uncle Wesley. What’s up?"

"I was just about to ask you the same thing," Wesley replied. "I thought you’d gone to Hogsmeade with Ron this weekend."

Hermione sighed. "Ron and I...we are just friends now."

"Is that right?" Wesley asked. "When did that happen?"

"This morning," Hermione replied. "I told him it wasn’t going to work."

"That’s funny. It seemed to be working fine before the visions hit him."

Hermione pursed her lips and put an enormous book in front of her face.

"Hermione," Wesley said, taking the book away. "I don’t expect you to understand love. I don’t understand-"

"Love?!" Hermione replied. "I’m not in love with Ron Weasley."

"Not yet," Wesley said with a smirk. "But you care about him."

"I care about Harry."

"So does Ron. So does Professor Dumbledore. This is different, and you know it."

Hermione sighed. "So what? I have a thing for Ron. But it’s not love."

"Yet."

"Stop saying that!" she cried. "I’m not going to fall in love with a someone who’s fated to die!"

There was a very uneasy silence between them.

Wesley sighed. "Hermione, I...it’s not going to be easy, but...what do you expect to do?"

"Not be with him, and wait for the feelings to subside."

"And if they don’t?"

"They will."

"And if they don’t?"

They sat in more silence before Hermione began to cry.

Wesley got up, moved to her side and pulled her into a hug. "Everyone dies, Hermione. It doesn’t matter when. The idea is to make the best of whatever time you’ve got."

**

"Told you not to have anymore of those visions."

Ron smirked from his bed in the hospital wing. "These really are going to kill me, aren’t they?"

Harry sighed and sat down on his bed. "I’m not gonna let that happen...When’re you gonna ask your parents about the half-demon thing?"

Ron shrugged. "Soon, I guess. It shouldn’t be too bad, Cordelia looks okay, and she’s a half-demon."

"So...Where’s Hermione?"

Ron shrugged. "Library is my guess. Why should I care, anyways?"

"I don’t know, Ron. Why do you care?"

Ron stared at him. "I don’t care."

"Stop being a prat, you do."

"Since when do you yap on like this?" Ron asked, surprised.

"Since my two best friends ridiculously fell for each other, and aren’t together anymore," Harry replied. "Listen, Ron. I’ve known you since we were eleven. It’s been five years. I know that for the entirety of those five years, you and Hermione have argued about everything from me, to what you like to put on your mashed potatoes."

"There’s nothing wrong with putting gravy, butter, salt and paprika on potatoes."

Harry smiled, even though he’d always been disgusted with Ron’s taste in foods. "That’s not the point. The point is that you belong together. You really do. I hate to see you two fight just as much as she hates to see us fight."

Ron sighed. "She doesn’t wanna be with me. You were there, you know what she said."

"She’s scared, Ron, for you," Harry replied. "And, frankly, so am I. You barely eat during meals, which is really scary. You don’t sleep anymore, and...you’re not scared of this."

Ron shrugged. "I don’t know, Harry. You don’t seem to be all that afraid of You-know-who."

"Voldemort."

"Don’t start."

Harry sighed. "I suppose your right. I guess we let other people be afraid. You’re afraid of Voldemort, and I’m afraid of your visions."

"They’re for you, y’know, the visions."

Harry nodded. "How the hell can we take care of them while we’re in the school?"

Ron shrugged. "Most of what I’ve been seeing lately has been happening near us. That should help. You just need to be around to take care of them. I nearly threw up when I snatched that death-eater’s wand."

"Just...don’t die," Harry told him.

Ron smirked tiredly. "You neither."

Make-Ups and Shake-ups
****

"Ron?"

It was very late, and Ron was nearly asleep when she’d shown up. She looked tired, like he did, wearing a pair of plain blue shorts and an old t-shirt. Her hair was still wet, obviously from a shower, something Ron was looking forward to in the morning.

He was still lying in the hospital wing, not allowed to leave. He’d stripped himself of his sweater and button-down shirt, now left in his white undershirt and blue slacks. It was a warmer mid-September night to the surprise of staff and students alike.

"Hey," he replied, sitting up.

"I thought you’d be asleep."

He shrugged, scratching the back of his head. "I was gonna, but if you wanna talk-"

"No, you sleep. You need it." She began to walk off, and he saw that she was pale, and her eyes were red.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Are you alright?"

"Fine."

"No you’re not."

"Yes, I am, Ron."

He got to his feet and slowly walked to her. "No, you’re not. Have you been crying?"

"Of course not," Hermione said quickly. "Why would I cry?"

Ron shrugged. "I...I don’t know...Hermione, why did you come here?"

"I...I actually came to...thank you for saving my life," she replied, turning slightly red.

"Oh," Ron said awkwardly. "Well...y’know, it’s the new job," he told. "I’m supposed to."

"Oh."

"Hermione?"

"What?"

"This sucks."

She finally looked at him. "What?"

"This sucks," he repeated. "I can’t even talk to you."

"Well, it’s normal," Hermione replied. "We just broke up."

"I hate this," Ron told her. "I hate this broken-up thing. Listen, I know these visions are making me sick, but if I can convince my parents, there may be a loophole...I just...if that doesn’t work out...I don’t wanna be without you."

"I’m right here."

He sighed and leaned against the wall. "But so far away. I really care about you...bordering maybe...I don’t know. I just...I hate being without you."

Her eyes became wet, and she wiped away tears angrily. "Stop it, Ron."

"No. Hermione, I...I think I might be falling in love with you, and it might just be scarier than these visions."

"Stop it."

"I really need you, Hermione," he went on.

There was a very long pause.

Ron set his head against the wall. "Can’t believe I just said that. Okay, that’s it. I need sleep. Goodnight, Hermione."

He began to walk back into the room, but Hermione grabbed his arm, and slammed him into her, flinging her arms around him and kissing him.

He was fairly shocked at first, but settled into the kiss easily.

When it ended, she held onto him still, sniffing into his shoulder. "I don’t want you to die," he heard her say.

He closed his eyes and hugged her tightly.

"I thought I heard something in the broom closet."

The harsh, and fairly sadistic male voice came from around the corner.

"We are adults, Severus," said another male voice. It was softer though, and slightly agitated.

"Yeah," a female voice added. "If we want to be immature and make out in a broom closet, what’s it to you?"

"You’re setting a bad example for the students."

Snape, Buffy and Angel came around the corner to find Hermione still holding onto Ron for dear life.

"See?" Snape snarled. "What is going on here?"

The teens let got of each other, both looking slightly embarrassed.

"Give them detention, Professor Summers," Snape ordered. "They’re out of bed very, very late at night."

Buffy sniffed loudly. "I can’t give them detention!"

"Professor Summer-"

"Snape, look at them. They’re soo cute!"

Snape groaned. "Oh, please. They’re out of bed late at night. Having a make-out session."

Buffy sniffed again. "I wish I were fifteen again."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Good lord. Fine, I’ll give them detention!"

"No! You can’t! They’re too cute! No detention for the cute."

All Angel could do was snickered softly. The love of his life. Ever the compassionate one. Then he realized that if Buffy gave them detention, she’d be the ultimate hypocrite. How many times during their on-again, off-again relationship had she snuck out under everyone’s noses to see him? Too many times to count.

Ron and Hermione were staring oddly at their Professors. Hermione wiped her tears away and put her head against Ron’s arm.

"Buffy? Angel?" Professor Rosenberg walked up, rubbing her eyes. She was holding a small mug of steaming liquid. "What’s going on?"

"Cuteness," Buffy replied. "Ron and Hermione just made up."

Willow smiled sleepily. "Aw...Yay."

Snape sighed. "Surely you see the seriousness of their being out of bed this late."

Willow paid no attention. "You had smoochies, didn’t you?"

Ron and Hermione both turned a bit red.

Willow giggled, and then turned to Snape. "Have you no heart? They’re up for the righteous cause of smoochies! I agree with Buffy. No detention for the cute!"

"Professor O’Brien, please tell me you’re not under the same delusions as these two silly girls?"

Angel sighed and smirked at Ron and Hermione. "Well...I mean...they didn’t really do anything wrong, and the Wizard populace has dwindled a bit since You-Know-Who...And, I mean...they are...teenagers, and...y’know, teenagers...they..." he smirked at this, not quite believing he was about to say it. "...like the smoochies."

Buffy smirked leeringly at Angel. Teens weren’t the only ones.

Willow gave her a curious look she didn’t seem to notice.

Snape threw his hands in the air, and finally walked away.

Buffy, Angel and Willow smiled at Ron and Hermione and walked away.

**

"So, you convinced Fudge?"

Remus Lupin sighed at his daughter. "We’re...wearing him down. Slowly. It’s harder than we thought it would be. Without Petigrew..."

"Ya got zip," Torianna nodded. "Right. Isn’t there anything else?"

Remus sighed. "Not unless James and Lily Potter miraculously rise from their graves," he told her sadly. "It seems as if I’ll be here a while longer."

"Cool!" Torianna smiled. "More homework help. You’re really good at that, y’know? How come you’re not a teacher?"

"I was for awhile," Remus told her. "I...it wasn’t safe fore me to teach children."

"Why?"

"Torianna, I’m a werewolf, you know that."

"So?"

"So, no one wants their child’s teacher to be a werewolf."

"You could teach in America," Torianna told him. "They don’t care whatcha are. We had a half-giant as a potions teacher last year. He was pretty cool. Ten zillion times better than Snape."

Remus looked thoughtfully at his food. While he’d visited America before, he’d never though about living there. "Hm."

**

He wouldn’t leave her alone.

They were now in Potions, and he was still at it.

"You have a thing."

"Get stuffed, Malfoy."

"You do, though. There was something there."

"Can’t you see that I’m trying to make this?"

"Is there something the matter, Ms. Black?" Snape asked rudely. He and his new teaching assistant, Marcus Flint, had turned to look at the agitated fifth-year.

"Yeah, Malfoy’s hitting on me. Make him stop."

The class giggled.

"Mr. Malfoy, is there something you’d like to share with the class?" Snape asked.

"She likes me," Draco blurted out.

"Ooh, please!" Evelyn yelled. "You’re the one who’s been following me for the past day and a half! I can barely go to the bathroom without you on my heels!"

"Because you’re in denial! You like me!"

"And you have delusions of grandeur! Get over yourself, you crazy boy!"

"You are so in denial!"

Evelyn fumed. "Fine! Fine! You want the Letterman list? Fine! Top ten reasons why Evelyn Black doesn’t, and will never fall for Draco Malfoy: You’re a death eater’s son, you’ve got a nasty mouth, you’re weak, you’re cowardly, you’re lazy, you’re spoiled, you’re a jerk, ya use too much hair gel, you’re delusional, and you’re a bigot. NOW STOP FOLLOWING ME!" She wasn’t finished. "And here’s another one, just for luck! You’re the lamest excuse for a ferret I’ve ever seen!"

It was everything the whole of Gryffindor house had been saying behind Malfoy’s back for five years.

Evelyn sat down in her seat, brooding.

Malfoy just stormed out.

Snape glared after him, but took off no points.

Torianna stared at her best friend in shock. "Whoa. That was really heartless."

**

Tara looked up from her papers to find Draco Malfoy sitting across from her. She hadn’t even heard him walk in. "Draco? Aren’t you supposed to be in potions?"

Draco sighed. "I left."

Tara glanced at him. "Why?"

Draco looked down. "Well..."

"Evelyn?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "How did you know?"

Tara smirked. "You’d be surprised by what I know. What’d she say?"

"I guess what could sum up what she said is ‘Ruthless Bastard.’"

"You like her, don’t you?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Draco, you really like her. Ever really liked a girl before?"

Draco twiddled his thumbs. "I don’t know...there was Pansy, but...well...I don’t like her. Maybe...maybe I do like Evelyn."

Tara shrugged. "Try being nice to her."

"But she’s a Gryffindor."

"So?"

"So, I’m a Slytherin. Crabbe and Goyle will kill me!" Draco cried. "Besides. She’s a Black. My dad and her dad don’t exactly have any great love for each other."

"Hmm...very Shakespearian," Tara commented. "You don’t have to tell your dad, do you?"

"Not...right away."

"Good. Now you just have to win her over." Tara sighed. "Which shouldn’t be too hard. She’s probably feeling guilty for calling you a Ruthless Bastard.

"You think so?"

Tara snickered. "The biggest thing to know about women, Draco Malfoy, is that they are infinitely fickle."

**

Angel sighed. "I guess I’ll see you in December," he told them.

Cordelia hugged him. "Take care. Don’t do anything dumb."

"You neither," Angel replied. He let go of Cordelia and turned to Lorne. "I barely got the chance to see you. What were you doing this whole time?"

Lorne shrugged. "This and that. I mostly stayed in Hogsmeade after Ron’s visions died down a bit. Rosmerta let me do a bit of a karaoke session."

Angel smirked. "You coming for the Yule ball?"

"There’s a Yule ball?" Lorne asked. "Of course I’m coming! I wouldn’t miss a chance to get dressed all spiffy and come to Hogwarts, what are you crazy, Angelcakes?"

Angel sighed. "I guess so. Send Fred and Gunn my best."

"Tell Wesley, Willow, Tara, Giles and Faith we said bye," Cordelia told him. "And tell Buffy to stop looking at you funny."

Angel raised an eyebrow. "She doesn’t look at me funny."

"Mm-Hm. Sure."

"Have a good trip," Angel said, changing the subject.

They boarded the train, and Cordelia turned back. "Angel?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell Ron I’m around if he needs me, okay?"

Angel nodded. "Definitely."

**

Ron hadn’t gone to class that day. Madame Pomfrey was very suspicious about his health, and had ordered him to spend at least another day in the hospital wing.

Hermione walked in during her lunch break, and sat across from him, leaning over to kiss him briefly. "Brought you homework," she told him.

"Which was the exact wrong phrase to use after kissing me," Ron told her. "Homework may put you in the mood for snogging, but it’s a bit of a turn-off over here."

She smirked, and dumped a few books into his lap, accidentally letting loose one of her own.

Ron picked it up. "The Iliad," he read. "What’s this, then?"

"It’s a poem."

Ron flipped through it. "The whole thing?"

"Epic poem," Hermione nodded. "It’s really quite good. It’s about a war."

Ron brightened up. "Really? You’ve got my attention."

"I was hoping the kiss would have done that."

"You said ‘homework’," Ron replied. "You lost me at that, remember?" He sighed. "I don’t think I could read this on my own. I’d go crazy. Wanna read it to me?"

Hermione smiled. "Oh, Ron."

"Oh, Ron."

Harry flopped himself down on the bed in-between them. They looked bitterly at him, and then gave knowing looks to each other, before tickling Harry.

"AH! NO! NO! STOP! AH!"

**

After classes, everyone yet again showed up in Professor Giles’ classroom for the chorus meeting. Even Ron was able to slip by Madame Pomfrey to come to rehearsal.

When Evelyn walked and sat in the alto section with Angelina, she gave a blank glance to Malfoy, who made no attempt to look at her. He sat by himself, away from the rest of the tenors, as usual, buried in a large book.

Did Evelyn feel bad? Yes, to some extent. She’d hurt his feelings. With the way Malfoy carried himself, she hadn’t realized he had any feelings. The night in Hogsmeade when she’d come onto him, for the sole purpose of getting rid of him, hadn’t really crossed her mind. She didn’t think it would really affect him.

Apparently, she’d thought wrong.

But Evelyn knew Draco Malfoy would never admit to having feelings for her. According to the Gryffindors, he never admitted things like that to anyone. Pansy Parkinson had been dropping him blatant hints for the better part of five years without any result.

But she wasn’t surprised. The blond looked fairly frigid in terms of emotions. Most Slytherins did.

Malfoy, she noticed, was different. He had a fire burning somewhere in his outwardly harsh exterior. The boy definitely had potential. But while she saw potential, she also saw a lot of hurt. Evelyn knew that getting involved with Malfoy could cause some complicated problems. Not only would it take time to open up to each other, as she was no cuddly puppy herself, but their families didn’t exactly hold each other in high regard. She knew for a fact that her aunt Amanda really hated Narcissa, and that her mother had no real love for the woman, either. And Wesley’s stories proved Evelyn’s father’s distaste for Lucius Malfoy.

But looking at his calm face as he read, she didn’t really care. He was intelligent, and had good looks. And she could see herself beating some decency into him.

"Alright! Everyone to your feet!" Giles cried. "Warm-ups!"

At the back of the room sat Hermione and Dean Thomas.

Torianna, from the soprano section, raised an eyebrow at Hermione as she looked up from her book, staring dreamily at Ron, who was staring right back, despite the snickering of his older brothers. She looked to Harry, who was standing next to her on the edge of their sections. He looked quite satisfied with his best friends’ distracted looks.

Torianna nudged him. "Ey. What’s wrong with them?" she asked, nodding towards them.

Harry smiled. "They’re really good together, aren’t they?"

Torianna smiled. "Yeah. Real cute in a Han and Leia kinda way."

"Who?" Harry asked.

"Han and Leia?" Torianna replied. "Star Wars? The Scoundrel and the Princess? Your Holy Worship and the Scruffy-lookin Nerfherder?"

Harry blinked, obviously confused.

"Oy," Torianna muttered. "Do you live under a rock during the summer?"

"Actually, a cupboard," Harry corrected her. "Well, a few years ago, anyways."

Torianna smacked herself in the head.

For the second week in a row, Charlie Weasley showed up to rehearsal, and this time, he was followed in by Oliver Wood, who took a place amongst the tenors.

Malfoy groaned. "Not another one."

"You sing?" Harry asked him.

Wood shrugged. "I time most of my Quidditch plays to certain songs."

Harry sighed. "Oliver, you do know what a one-track mind is, right?"

A moment later, a dark-haired boy around Oliver’s age walked in. Wood stepped off the risers and up to the boy.

"Marcus Flint," Wood snarled.

"Oliver Wood." Flint growled back.

"What’re you doing back here?"

"I was gonna ask you the same thing. Thought you were going to one of those lousy Muggle Universities."

"‘Lousy?’ The only thing lousy I see in this room is you, Flint."

"Hey," Charlie snapped. "Stop that. We’re here to sing, not kick each other’s butts. Now get on the risers."

Wood went back to the tenors, while Flint stepped up to the basses, where all of them but Charlie moved away from him.

So much for social harmony.

They finally started warm-ups, and things were going fine, until Professor Morgan stormed in. Giles sighed.

"What is it, Faith?"

Charlie stared at her. Long, fairly wild brown hair and big brown eyes. Her teaching robes were nowhere to be seem, and she wore a pair of very short denim shorts with a dress shirt that was tied into a knot, revealing her flat stomach. A red and gold Gryffindor tie was hanging loosely around her waist. She glared into the bass section, and Charlie’s eyes widened.

Not only was she attractive, she looked ridiculously intense.

"Oh, shit," Ron muttered. "Busted."

"You."

Ron sighed. "Hi, Professor Morgan."

"Ronnie, Pomfrey is ready to kick your ass. Get the hell back to the hospital wing."

"But...chorus," Ron argued.

Faith rolled her eyes. She marched herself into the bass section and grabbed Ron by the ear and proceeded to drag his ass off the risers and out the classroom door.

"OW!" they heard Ron cry. "That’s my bloody ear!"

Giles sighed. "Right, then."

"That’s Professor Morgan," Fred explained to Charlie. "She’s a vampire slayer. Hot, too."

"Very," George agreed.

Charlie nodded. "Yeah." He noticed Hermione get up from the back of the room and walk out. He smirked. "Has Ickle Ronniekins gotta girlfriend?" he asked his brother.

"Yeah," Fred nodded.

Charlie smirked. "Wait till Mom hears about it this."

As Faith left, dragging Ron with her, Hermione got up a followed.

Charlie raised an eyebrow at the twins. "Ickle Ronniekins has a girlfriend?"

The boys snickered and nodded.

**

"So, this Oliver Wood kid," Angel said, standing the doorway of the headmaster’s office.

Dumbledore looked up. "Yes. What about him?"

"He looks a lot like someone I used to know," Angel replied, coming in.

"You knew Allan Doyle, didn’t you?" Dumbledore asked solemnly.

"You knew him, too?" Angel asked, confused.

"He married one of my former students," Dumbledore replied. "A very bright Ravenclaw girl. A good friend of Sirius Black’s elder sister if I remember correctly. Arabella Figg."

"So?" Angel asked. He was quite disheartened to find out Doyle had married twice. So much for being completely honest with each other. So much for no more secrets.

"They had a son," Dumbledore replied. "They named him Oliver, and they were quite happy, the three of them. And then the war started. Oliver was around three or four years old. Allan and Arabella were members of the Order of the Phoenix."

"What’s that?"

"The main organization against Voldemort."

Angel nodded. "So she was killed?"

"Arabella?" Dumbledore asked. "No. She lived. And Allan and the child lived. But they didn’t know it. Allan was made to believe his wife and son had been killed by Death Eater, and Arabella was made to believe that her husband had betrayed us and killed their son. Most of us believed what Arabella had. Allan left England, and Arabella stayed until the end of the war and then left."

"And the boy?" Angel asked.

"The night I left Harry with his aunt and uncle, I went through Hogsmeade, just for a walk before going back to Hogwarts, and there he was, in front of the Quidditch supply shop, ironically enough. I took him to the Woods, a couple who’d gone into hiding and survived the war, and they raised him very, very well."

Angel sighed and got up. "He was my first seer, and a great friend."

"Tell me, Angel," Dumbledore said. "Did he die senselessly?"

Angel shook his head. "No. He died a hero. Thank you Professor."

**

"No. No, no, no, no, no. Anything but this."

"Ron, calm down, she’s your professor," Professor Morgan said.

Ron got up from the bed he was sitting on. "I’m going down to chorus. This is ridiculous."

"I have the sight as you do, Ronald," said Professor Trelawney. "I can help you."

Hermione snorted from next to Faith.

"Just because you do not have the sight, my dear-"

"Not many people do, Professor," Hermione cut her off. "Ron has a serious problem, and I personally don’t think you’re qualified for anything that doesn’t have to do with tea leaves and crystal ball, which, I believe are both quite ridiculous."

Faith sighed. She had to admit that Professor Trelawney looked fairly fake. She wondered why Granger didn’t like her, though.

"It’s alright, Professor," Ron told Trelawney. "I don’t need your help. I do, however, need a good bout of warm-ups. So I’m going back down to sing. I’m obligated, y’know. The basses need me. Besides, I have Cordelia to help me."

Morgan sighed. "She left this morning, Ron. She was needed back in the states."

Ron’s expression fell.

"She’s around if you need her," said Professor O’Brien’s voice from the door. "She told me to tell you that."

Ron nodded. "I’m going back to chorus." He left, Hermione following him.

Trelawney looked deeply offended as the teens passed Professor O’Brien out the door. "Well, I never."

Faith rolled her eyes. "Put a sock in it, Miss Cleo."

**

Chorus had ended, and students and teachers alike were relaxing or doing homework before dinner.

Evelyn Black sat on the floor outside the Slytherin portrait hole, reading a book. Waiting.

It was nearly six when the person he was waiting for finally emerged from the hole. She looked up at him, and he looked down at her, bewildered.

She got to her feet and dusted off her black slacks.

"Black, what-"

"Shut up for a minute, Malfoy," Evelyn snapped. "Lemme say something."

He did, and crossed his arms.

She sighed. "I just...I wanted to say that I’m sorry about Potions today. It was really crappy of me to call you those things. I’m just not used to being stalked."

"I wasn’t stalking you," Malfoy defended himself.

"Then what do you call it?"

He stayed silent.

"Yeah. Well, I’m sorry I called you spoiled and a jerk and nasty, and weak, and cowardly, and-"

He cut her off with his mouth.

"AH! I’M BLIND!"

Shocked out of their embrace, they both looked over to see Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, Ron with his hand over his eyes.

"You’re blind because your hand is covering your eyes, Ron," Evelyn explained.

"I never wanted to see that," Harry said. "What the hell are you doing, kissing Malfoy? He’s a ferret, you know. You might get rabies."

"Oh, and you’ve gotten all your shots from living with those Muggles," Draco shot back.

Evelyn rolled her eyes and put her arms around Draco. "You know what this means, don’ you boys?"

"What?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You have to be nice to each other around me."

There was silence.

"You wish," Ron finally said. "I’m not being nice to that nasty, ferret-y git. All the things Evelyn said about you during Potions are true. You’re a horrible, miserable person! And you don’t care about anyone or anything but yourself! You don’t even have any real friends. Crabbe and Goyle are your lackeys!"

"Ron-" Evelyn began to argue.

"Like I want to give you any respect," Malfoy replied cutting Evelyn off. "Not only are you poor, but you’re not good at anything. At least your siblings can do things. And you’re going to die, running up medical bills your parents can’t pay. At least when you kick the bucket there’ll be more food on the table for the rest of your family. You’re just a waste of space."

Evelyn let go of Draco and backed away. "Jesus, I can’t believe you just said that." She was expecting Ron to stalk forward and reacquaint Malfoy with his fist, but Ron stepped back, turned around and walked off.

"Ron, wait!" Harry cried, running after him.

Evelyn shook her head at Malfoy and walked off, leaving him to stand there, completely bewildered at what had just taken place.

**

"Ron, you know that’s not true."

"Then how come I’m not good at anything? How come if I don’t become a half-demon, I’m gonna die?" Ron asked uncomfortably.

Harry had given up following him, and went to get someone who could actually help the situation. He’d run to Hagrid’s hut, and found Charlie helping to get some fuzzy little creatures Harry had never seen before under control. He’d explained to Charlie what Malfoy had said, and led him to the Quidditch Pitch. Harry had made his exit for dinner, leaving the brothers alone.

"You’re good at lots of things, Ron," Charlie replied, sitting across from him. "You’re a great Quidditch player-"

"Who hasn’t made the team, and even if I did, I’d probably get a vision and fall off my broom."

Charlie sighed. "You’re a great chess player-"

"Bill’s better."

"So? Dad’s better than Bill. Percy’s better than Dad," Charlie argued.

That didn’t help. "Malfoy’s right. I am a waste of space."

"No one thinks that but Malfoy," Charlie told him. "Come on, Ron. So you’re not as smart as Percy or Bill. So you’re not as cute as Ginny. So you don’t cause trouble like the twins, or are good with dragons. There are other things."

"Like what?"

"Well, for one thing, you’ve got a mouth to beat all mouths." Charlie started. "You’re a brave kid, and you don’t back down from what you believe in, no matter what. Your resolve is as solid as Malfoy’s head, and that’s impressive. Secondly, you’re a much better singer than any of us boys will ever be."

"What about Ginny?"

"Ginny’s a girl," Charlie replied. "She’s in a class of her own. She doesn’t really have to compete with us all that much. I’m talking about the fact that Percy and Bill can’t sing, and the twins and I are not half as good as you are. Professor Giles says you’ve got perfect pitch, and it’s natural."

"Won’t get me a job," Ron replied.

"Ron," Charlie sighed. "You’re fifteen. You don’t have to worry about getting a job yet." He paused. "Y’know, Ron...I heard Professor Summers say you’re not bad in a scrap, and I believe it. We’ve toughened you up good. You could be an Auror, or a ministry guard or-"

"I don’t want to be a goon," Ron told him.

"Aurors are not goons," Charlie told him. "Okay, ministry guards are, but you’ve got to be smart to be an Auror, and you’re smart as hell, you’re just lazy, like I used to be. You’ve got to stop comparing yourself to your brothers, otherwise it’ll bog you down forever. Stop worrying about what we’re good at, and start paying more attention to what you’re good at." He sighed and got to his feet, then helped Ron up. "Now listen to this part, because it’s really important: I don’t care what Malfoy says. You don’t deserve to die. You’re our brother, you know. Through all the teasing, and wrestling we like you, and we want you around, even if Percy can be a lousy git sometimes. So next weekend, you and I are gonna go home and talk to Mum and Dad about the half-demon thing. I promise. Now, come on, we’re way late for dinner."

They walked through the halls, talking about Quidditch and Charlie began telling him some interesting stories about Romania, when they passed Professor Morgan.

"Hello, Professor," Charlie nodded to her.

"Hi...Charlie Weasley, right?" Faith asked, stopping. "Ron’s big brother?"

Charlie nodded. "Yeah. You’re Faith Morgan, right?"

"Faith’s fine," she replied with a smirk. "Ronnie, you never told me your big brother was cute. I’ll see you guys in the great hall." With that, she walked off.

Charlie turned as red as his hair, and Ron stood, staring wide-eyed at where Professor Morgan had been.

"Did she just hit on me?" Charlie asked.

Ron needed. "I think so."

Charlie shook his head out. "Wow...speaking of women, Fred and George tell me you and Miss Granger are having a thing." He smiled as his youngest brother turned very red.

Charlie laughed and they walked to the great hall. "Ickle Ronniekins’ got a girlfriend."

**

It was his turn to sit and wait.

Draco Malfoy sat outside the Gryffindor Portrait hole, just waiting and thinking.

He got up when someone stepped out of the portrait.

"Oh, it’s you," he sneered.

Torianna Lupin raised an eyebrow. "What’re you doin?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing right outside the Gryffindor hole?"

"Yes."

"Malfoy, you really like Evelyn, don’t you?"

"No."

She slapped the Slytherin across the cheek. "Don’t lie."

He glared at her.

"What, I don’t get a retaliation?"

"You’re a girl."

"And...?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "So what if I do like her? As long as she hangs out with Potty and the Weasel-"

SMACK!

"Harry and Ron," she corrected.

"As long as she hangs out with them, I don’t have a shot."

"They don’t influence her decisions," Torianna told him. "She makes decisions offa what she sees. So if you tell Ron he deserves to die or whatever you said, you don’t have a shot."

"You want me to be nice to them?"

"Want you to leave them alone," Torianna replied. "You don’t have to say anything."

"As long as Weasley’s a pure blood and Hermione Granger’s a mudbl-"

SMACK

She didn’t have to say anything this time.

"I don’t get it, that’s all," Draco muttered, rubbing his cheek gingerly.

"Would you still like Evelyn if she wasn’t pure-blood?"

Draco thought about this. "I don’t know."

"You really wanna impress her?"

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Apologize to Ron."

Draco blinked, and laughed.

And then he was smacked again.

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