“You and Fancourt? Well, isn’t that perfect.”

Elsie faltered at the top of the staircase, watching Elliot’s head bop up and down as he bounded toward the first floor. Stunned for a moment, she hurried after him, skipping a step or two to catch up.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she said heatedly, tugging on the strap of his bag. Elliot didn’t stop his stalking and pulled Elsie along with him, her hair flying behind her because of their fast pace. The Gryffindor lifted up a hand, sending her a dismissive gesture that Elsie did not heed.

He was so frustrating! All she’d done was ask him how his day was, and now he was making comments about her personal life! Why she ever bothered with this growling grump of a person, she didn’t know. It was like she was a silly glutton for punishment, because Elliot Alderton did nothing but make her wish she’d taken the scenic route around the entire grounds of the castle to get to lunch.

“He can train the butterflies to tie the ribbons in your braids and have birds hold up your robes when you go down the stairs,” Elliot said in a nauseated tone, “it’s a match made on the most irritating cloud in heaven.”

Elsie let out an indignant sound of shock. Max Fancourt was the sweetest boy she had ever met and she had been so delighted when he had asked her out to Hogsmeade last weekend. She was still in a good mood about the budding relationship, and that blissful euphoria was what had prompted her to simply tell the world that she was now seeing Max. Unfortunately her happiness had blinded her common sense; she should have known that Elliot would find her new relationship disgusting.

Well. He certainly was not one to talk, especially with his recent rendezvous with her roommate. Elsie lifted her chin, holding her books tightly to her chest as she kept pace with Elliot. They would be shoulder to shoulder if he wasn’t so much taller than her.

“As if you and Kate are a better match.”

That put a stop to his angry tirade of a walk. Elliot whirled around, his eyes wide. Elsie could not be more pleased with the look of shock on his face and she even allowed herself a laugh at his expense.

“How did---” Elliot sputtered, but Elsie waved a dismissive hand, much like the one he had done to her.

“She’s told me all about your---” Elsie faltered, not exactly sure how to put the very detailed encounter into words that were not as vulgar as those used by Kate last night. Elsie had shrieked into her pillow for a good while after, not having ever wanted such a vivid detailing of their encounter. Though, it had caused her to wonder how exactly one-----“Your escapades.”

He flushed a dark red, which for some reason made Elsie blush as well. They stood in silence, avoiding each other’s eyes until Elliot cleared his throat and straightened up.

“Jealous, then?”

“Revolted!” Elsie scoffed immediately, her hold on her books putting more pressure on her chest. Elliot took notice of her pink cheeks and his demeanor seemed to change. He shifted his bag to his other shoulder and leaned forward, a smirk crossing his face.

“You don’t seem revolted,” he said, eyebrows high. Elsie frowned deeply, unwilling to budge from her spot because that would prove that she was in fact unable to have a conversation on this topic. Which...was certainly not the case, as she had obviously survived Kate’s rather rousing retelling of her time with Elliot (though she didn’t believe the screaming part, Kate was always one for the dramatics), but she had no desire to discuss such things with him.

“Revolted. Disgusted,” Elsie rebutted a bit loftily, batting her eyes. “I suppose I feel a bit sad for her, having to endure a long period of time with you.”

“It was long,” Elliot agreed, causing Elsie’s throat to close. She had not meant it in that way, but now the thought was in her head and she couldn’t get the images of---of---

Elliot reached out and flicked her lightly in the chin. He eyed her with what seemed like curiosity. “I think you’re sad Fancourt’s never gonna make you scream like I can.”

It felt a bit like her brain had shut off, like a candle that had been lighting up her mind had been blown out, like her heart had put a stop to all its pointless beating to fully take in his words. She should be absolutely scandalized by his words, but that’s what he wanted, wasn’t it? Elliot wanted her to squirm and feel uncomfortable, but Elsie wouldn’t give in to his games. It didn’t help that he was so close to her, and that after Kate’s detailed divulgence, Elsie’s own thoughts may have wandered far into the night once her curtains had closed.

“You’re a pig,” she let out, her voice much softer than before. Elliot shrugged and straightened up, looking down the corridor.

“Here comes Prince Charming now,” he said. Elsie turned to see Max heading towards them.

His smile could be seen from down the hall, and it warmed her heart. That was how a boy was supposed to make you feel. She turned back to tell Elliot to not bother with their Charms lesson today, but he had already stalked off and away. Her eyes followed him turn the corner, and Elsie’s mind only found itself back in the present when Max’s hand slipped into hers. She leaned into a welcoming kiss, shutting her eyes to hopefully get some bothersome images out of her head.

There was something suspicious going on.

Erin’s lips twisted in thought as she stared down Donovan Rookwood, who stared back with a cool and composed expression. She got along pretty well with the Slytherin prefect, who was a lot more tolerant of other Houses and seemingly indifferent when it came to blood status. Erin had been nervous about interacting with people from other Houses, but the prefects of the year (save for Donovan’s Slytherin counterpart, Prisca Pucey) were all very friendly and easy going.

Except right now Donovan had this look in his eye that told Erin he was up to no good.

“I don’t understand,” she said slowly, her mind working rapidly. He never canceled on her, they’d been partners since third year! “You’re canceling our study session because...you want to be in bed by seven?”

“Big exam tomorrow in Ancient Runes,” he said solemnly, shaking his head as if discussing the passing of a loved one. He took a quick look over his shoulder, but the corridor was empty. “I’ll need all the rest I can get.”

“Danielle didn’t mention an Ancient Runes exam,” Erin countered, and she grinned when Donovan’s ears burned red; it was the only indication he couldn’t control, and it definitely meant that he had ulterior motives. There was no way that her very studious roommate (and girlfriend of this scheming prefect) would have forgotten about an exam of this supposed magnitude. His eyes rolled up to the ceiling in thought, and he dropped his gaze quickly back to her.

“She also has Potions to worry about, so she studied for Ancient Runes last night,” Donovan responded, regaining the upperhand. “Potions ranks higher on her list of priorities, you know this.”

Erin couldn’t deny that. But, it still didn’t explain why Donovan would really be insisting on getting to bed at such an early hour. She was about to retort that too much sleep would be counterproductive to his strategy when she noticed that they were being watched. Not being watched, spied upon. A bit down the corridor, it looked to be a three-headed figure peering out of a broom closet. When Erin narrowed her eyes to try and focus on the heads, they disappeared back into the closet, the door slamming behind them.

Hm.

“I’m sure I could find you a study partner,” Donovan said, and Erin pretended to not see his subtle hand movement, as if he we motioning for someone behind him to come forward. There was a beat, and when no one showed up, Donovan turned and repeated himself, loudly, “I said, I’m sure I could find you a study partner.”

Again, nothing happened. The Slytherin huffed and turned completely around, his eyes boring into the broom closet door. His motives dawned on Erin, and with a smile she realized just who was in that closet. She didn’t hesitate; she moved past Donovan, earning a strangled sort of sound from the Slytherin as she headed toward the closet.

“Wait! I---er---”

“I’m sure we could find me a new partner,” Erin said in an exaggeratedly loud tone. She was now standing right in front of the broom closet door, and she could hear whispered scolding coming from inside. Erin’s hand went to the handle and with a quick twist she pulled the door open. Immediately, two bodies toppled out of the broom closet and into the corridor, all landing with thuds against the stone floor.

Jonas Ackerly was the first to pop off the ground, his face entirely quaffle red. He bounced behind Donovan as Gabriel Corner brushed off the dust on his robes and flattened his now ruffled hair. His ears were a bright red and Erin had never seen her housemate look so out of sorts.

“Hello, Erin,” he snipped. The strangest thing, however, was that there had been a third person in the closet, but he had not fallen to the floor, but was looking as if he was going to be sick, just at the sight of her.

Erin tentatively took a step toward Rafe Kirke, who stood frozen in the doorframe of the closet. His eyes were the size of quaffles and his skin was a gross shade of green. They stared at each other in silence, Erin waiting for Rafe to say something, but it looked like if he opened his mouth he was going to puke on her. She’d always thought he was rather cute and now that she knew that his friends were trying to set them up she was growing excited at the thought. If only he could say something.

“Well---here’s your study partner,” Donovan said, and with an unceremonious shove in the shoulder, he pushed Erin toward the closet, towards Rafe. She crashed into his chest and a second late the broom closet door was shut behind them. There was laughter and the sound of a lock clicking.

His arms around her felt very nice, and she was glad for the darkness of the closet because her cheeks were burning. This could turn out to be much better than a silly study session.

It was a very logical conclusion to come to, fancying Donovan Rookwood. Danielle had suddenly broadcast this revelation to her roommates a few weeks ago, earning shrill shrieks of excitement from the girls. In the four years they’d spent at Hogwarts, Danielle’s mind had not been bothered to find anything but her schoolwork interesting; nothing could capture her attention more than a good charms lecture or a vigorous defense class. It wasn’t until she had been partnered with Donovan on a History of Magic assignment that she’d ascertained he was an acceptable boy to fancy.

He was very smart, sure to be a prefect next year. He wasn’t loud like some of the boys in his year, and Danielle appreciated that he was tolerant, as shown by his very diverse group of multi-Housed friends. She supposed that he was good looking as well, but it had not been the first or most important thing she had noticed about him. She liked that he had answers to things, and that sometimes his questions managed to make her think; even in Ravenclaw House where everyone scored top marks, it was still hard for Danielle to be challenged by her peers. Donovan stimulated her in a different fashion and that was why she fancied him.

She had a good inclination that he fancied her as well. He always walked her to her next class, even if his was on the other side of the castle, asking her questions about the previous lecture as an excuse for staying by her side. Danielle appreciated his presence, and often found herself wishing he’d linger for longer even though she ushered him away so that he would not be late to class. She couldn’t have herself be the reason behind his tardiness.

They were walking together again, but this time classes were over and it was the long trek from the library to Ravenclaw tower. Donovan had once again insisted on walking with her, as one ‘didn’t know what was lurking these corridors at night.’

“There are ghosts and poltergeists,” Danielle mused, “but they don’t lurk.”

“I know a few housemates of mine that do,” Donovan said darkly, “They wouldn’t hesitate in bothering a pretty girl like you.”

Danielle smiled at him, and enjoyed seeing his ears turn red at his unexpected compliment. Donovan kept his gaze straight ahead, but she could see his lips twitching upwards as well. There was a constricting feeling in her chest, as if her heart was pumping too fast, that it couldn’t handle the rapidly multiplying beats per minute. Was this the physical aspect of fancying someone? Smiles, red ears, and heart palpitations? Danielle couldn’t be sure, but she didn’t feel bad and upon an impulse that shot through her because of all these new feelings, her hand shot out and grabbed Donovan’s.

His step only faltered slightly, and he turned to her with a grin. Danielle felt a flash of heat course through her at his smile and now it was her turn to avoid his gaze. Staring at him wasn’t easy when he was making her feel this way, and they walked in silence, hand-in-hand, the rest of the way to Ravenclaw tower. Danielle felt an ache in her chest as the door to her dormitory grew nearer; was she already missing him? That didn’t make sense, but that’s what it felt like. There was a longing to stretch out this walk for as long as possible, but she didn’t know how to accomplish that.

“Good night,” she said, without letting go of his hand. He would have to break the hold first, because while Danielle was quite aware that she could not stand here all night, out alone with a boy, her crazily beating heart was refusing to let her brain unlock their intertwined fingers. She looked up at Donovan, finally, and seeing him already staring down at her made her heat up as if she were standing in a fire pit.

When he didn’t let go of her hand, Danielle felt a rise of panic in her chest, but strangely it was a good feeling. She watched as he leaned forward, and though it was quite obvious that he was coming in to kiss her, as what else could he possibly be trying to do, Danielle was surprised, startled, shocked, but ultimately very pleased. She let him kiss her as that was what both her brain and heart wanted him to do.

Fancying someone really was not as easy as people made it out to be.

The boy whacked at the zooming bludger as hard as he could, causing him to spin in place, losing his balance.

“Dang it!” Kendall Broadmoor yelled, throwing his bat to the ground. He watched the bludger soar crookedly and most definitely to the left, hurtling once again into the bleachers. Nope. Nope, he was not going to get it, because that would be the tenth time getting it, and he was not climbing up there again. Why couldn’t he get it to go straight?! Bludgers made his family’s heart beat! Why couldn’t he just hit the dang ball right? If he didn’t make the team again, his dad was going to disown him!

“Your stance is off.”

Kendall turned around toward the voice, surprised that anyone would be on the pitch this early, and on a Saturday no less. He blinked quickly at the sight of the Ravenclaw seeker, trying to recall his name.

“What?” Kendall asked grumpily.

“Your stance,” the Ravenclaw snapped, looking at Kendall as if he were some dumb first year. He felt like a dumb fourth year, thanks. The Ravenclaw began to windmill his arms, “You’re not going to be positioned like that on a broom, now are you?”

The Hufflepuff frowned and he watched the seeker walk toward the ball trunk. There was one more bludger fighting to get out, but Kendall had left it locked up to try and discipline himself. It really wasn’t working, and now his legs were sore. The Ravenclaw kicked opened the box, unlatched the bludger, and with a swing that reminded him of his dad, struck the bludger with such accuracy that Kendall was sure he could have slugged it between a spectator’s legs if he wanted. The raging ball shot straight through the center hoop and whirled back to them, and the Ravenclaw caught it and wrestled it to the ground.

“Whoa!” Kendall exclaimed, jumping to the seeker’s side after the ball was safely latched inside the trunk. Thomas! That was his name! “How’d you do that?”

The Ravenclaw’s eyes avoided his, “It’s the angles.”

Kendall blinked. What did angles have to do with any of it? Maybe it was just a lucky shot, even though Ravenclaws did tend to talk gibberish. He didn’t know if he could take a lesson from a Ravenclaw, a seeker no less, who was a good foot shorter than him.

“What do you know about being a beater, anyway?” Kendall said with a huff, turning to pick up his bat, “You’re just a seeker.”

Thomas turned to look up at him sharply, his face burning red, “I’m better than you at beating, I could make it on the team as a beater and you haven’t for the past two years. Maybe you should take some advice.”

“That’s! You! How!” Kendall stuttered, staring at Thomas incredulously. How rude! Who was this prat to talk to him that way? He was the son of Karl Broadmoor. Who was this Ravenclaw? Who was this scrawny, short, scowly Ravenclaw to talk to him about quidditch? A little voice in the back of Kendall’s head told him that he needed to stop puffing his chest and just take the bloke’s advice, but he was just too rude to take seriously.

It was then that he noticed that the Ravenclaw was wearing his team jersey, and Kendall read his last name. McCormack. McCormack?

“You’re Catriona McCormack’s little brother?” Kendall blurted. Merlin, every bloke in the Hufflepuff dorm had a picture of the Pride superstar up in their room. Thomas sent him another dagger-like glare, but he did nod as he bent to open the trunk again. This time he pulled out a snitch, and it struggled in his fist. “Why’d you want to be a seeker, then?”

“I want to be everything,” Thomas said, toneless as if that wasn’t a strange thing to announce, “I’m going to be the best at every position so that no one can say anything about it.”

It was the first thing in their entire conversation that Kendall understood. His own anxieties about being a great beater were all based upon making his father proud, so why wouldn’t Thomas want to make sure he was excellent to live up to his sister’s super stardom? Kendall twisted his lips; as hard as this Ravenclaw seemed to be to deal with, he might actually be ale to help him in more ways than hitting a bludger.

“Tell me about these angles,” Kendall said, offering his bat to Thomas. The Ravenclaw looked down at the bat before looking up at Kendall, and his eyes flickered with excitement.

He gripped her tightly around the waist, their lips locked in a kiss that felt like it had lasted for hours. Thomas’ feet got caught up in Nora’s and they stumbled, bumping into the thick tapestry before guiding themselves back to the stone wall. She was a very good kisser, which Thomas was glad for because all he really knew how to do was kiss. He was quite content with hiding out behind tapestries, disappearing into nooks and empty corridors, just to kiss her. They’d only been ‘official’ for a couple of weeks and Thomas liked that he hadn’t grown tired of seeing her, or kissing her, or touching her---

---it also helped that she was a Gryffindor, and therefore his friends did not have the chance to tease and make fun of him whenever he was with Nora. They knew about her, of course, but she was a year ahead and a different House! Their schedules were crazy, it was just so hard to meet up. It was a bunch of malarkey, but Thomas liked the privacy and being able to have something all to himself. He was sure that Rose and Kendall were devising a plot to formally meet his girlfriend, but he’d postpone that as long as possible.

It wasn’t that he didn’t think his best friends would like Nora, he was sure they would...it was just that the three of them, the trio, they had issues when it came to judgment, and sharing, and personal space. Thomas couldn’t recall the last time he’d liked one of the boys Rose fancied or dated, and with Kendall it was hard not to pick at flaws of the girls he brought around. He wasn’t the only one, guilty of it. Rose often made this face, when she didn’t want to tell him the truth, but she didn’t want to lie, either. And Kendall! Kendall tended to make short, sarcastic comments, muttered under his breath that you had to catch right away or he’d deny, deny, deny.

So---no, Thomas was in no rush for his friends to meet Nora and he was going to try very hard to keep this to himself. He pushed his thoughts away as he pushed his hands under her shirt, taking full advantage of their free period before dinner.

They paid no mind to the voices in the corridor, though they should have, because a moment later said voices were pulling the tapestry up and away. The bright light from the corridor windows made them both jump, and Nora let out a shriek. She immediately ducked behind Thomas, though she shook an angry fist over his shoulder.

“Get out of here, Charlie!” she shouted. Thomas, confused as ever, whirled around to face who he assumed was Charlie. Oh---Spinnet.

“PEAKEY!” the other Gryffindor let out, his hands in the air. Thomas pressed his lips shut, trying his best not to cause a scene for Nora’s sake. Charlie was the obnoxious Gryffindor from History of Magic, the one with the twin who refused to stop kicking the back of Thomas’ chair. Thomas was sure that the bloke had never gotten through a lesson without snoring, and that alone made Thomas despise him. “That’s more of you than I’d ever have liked to see!”

“Go away!” Nora spat, though her face had not removed itself from Thomas’ back, and he stood firm. Spinnet wasn’t alone, he stood with another Gryffindor in their year, Octavius Pepper. Pepper seemed aghast, and was tugging on Charlie’s sleeve to get him to leave. Though, he was also not so subtly making an attempt to catch a glimpse of Nora and her unbuttoned top.

“You heard her,” Thomas snapped, putting a protective arm around Nora, though it felt strange to be hugging someone in this backwards manner. Charlie grinned, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Wait ‘til Delilah hears about this,” Charlie said, lifting his chin haughtily. “She’s going to be so put off that you didn’t tell her about this little---tryst.”

“That’s good word usage, Charlie,” Octavius let out, unable to control his surprise.

“I read it in a book.”

“You read a book?”

Charlie looked remarkably pleased with himself and nudged his friend. Nora jumped out from behind Thomas, her robes askew but at least she was covered up entirely. Her hair was wild, and Thomas reckoned she looked a bit like a lion, ready to tear apart her dumb-as-rocks prey.

“Don’t you dare! I’ve been meaning to tell her!”

“You haven’t told your friends about me?” Thomas asked, honestly bewildered. Nora whirled toward him, mouth gaping like a fish out of water. Her face was a deep, deep red, and it managed to get even darker at the sound of Charlie’s crowing.

“Get away!” Nora shrieked, striking Charlie hard in the arm. The other Gryffindor finally relented and backed away, laughing as he let the tapestry fall back into place, letting Thomas and Nora disappear into the darkness. She’d covered her face with her hands and the groan she let out sounded like a dying hippogriff’s.

“I’m so sorry,” she muttered, leaning back against the wall. “I didn’t tell them about us because---they’re a bit much.” Thomas watched her carefully, and after a moment he stepped forward, pressing against her only a bit gentler than he had been before they were interrupted. Nora dropped her hands to her side, looking fully embarrassed, but confused.

“I’ve been avoiding having my friends meet you, too,” Thomas said softly, his nose bumping into hers. Nora’s eyes widened in surprise, and her hands found his once again. They stood, somehow entranced with each other and their similar needs to keep this, what they had, private and all to themselves.

Whether it be because it was new and exciting, or the simple fact that their friends were insane, it didn’t seem to matter.

To clear his head, Gabriel needed to get as far away from Ravenclaw Tower as possible. Ian Bell was absolutely infuriating, and had been quite the terror since Gabriel had been named quidditch captain. Was it his fault that he was a better leader than the bloke who had the attention span of a flobberworm? Gabriel believed he was the best choice for the job, so why should Ian’s ridiculous complaints bother him? They should not bother him! They were absolutely not going to bother him.

The dark and stormy clouds above his head reflected Gabriel’s mood perfectly. The last thing he needed was Ian Bell, who was admittedly one of the best players on the Ravenclaw team, denouncing him as captain. He could easily lead the rest of the team into a revolt if he so desired! Gabriel didn’t think Ian had the patience to hold a coup, but it had him worried. Concerned! He huffed angrily and kicked a rock, sending it jumping through the grass.

A moment later a shriek echoed across the grounds and Gabriel stopped his stalking. Straight ahead was a girl who was quickly making her way toward him and looking furious.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” she screamed, jabbing him in the chest with a pointy finger. Her hair was held back by a headband with a very feminine bow resting at a tilt on the side of her head, and it was almost humorous with her utterly furious expression. She looked ready to maul him and that just irritated him further. Gabriel’s face twisted in disgust.

“I’m walking,” he explained as if speaking to a child, as she was certainly stomping around like one. He recognized her. This was Rachel, one of the Ravenclaws in the year below. Gabriel knew her from their social circles outside of Hogwarts but he had never bothered to approach her as she had never given off the air of being approachable. She was pretty enough, but with that upturned nose and pursed lip expression that seemed to be a staple of her persona, Gabriel couldn’t see a reason to bother.

She jabbed him again, and now he was sure he was never going to waste another moment on Rachel Englewood.

“Quit it! I didn’t do a thing to you!” he snapped, causing Rachel to let out a loud, quite insulted gasp.

“You almost killed Priscilla!” Rachel shrieked. Gabriel gaped at her, shaking his head. She looked out of her mind with rage and had turned her body away as if protecting a child in her arms. What was that fluffy white thing in her arms?

“Who’s Priscilla?” he asked incredulously, feeling the lightest of drizzle.

Rachel opened her mouth to respond, but then seemed to decide that he was not worth her time and started back toward the castle, cradling the white fluff close to her chest. Gabriel was about to tell her that she was absolutely mad and that she should probably head to Pomfrey’s to make sure that the rock didn’t hit her in the head, when the storm clouds above opened up and a downpour crashed onto them. His initial response was to run and he was nearly up the hill when he realized that Rachel had frozen at the bottom of it.

“What are you doing!” he let out, already soaked to the bone. Gabriel slid down the hill and watched in confusion as Rachel fumbled with the clasps of her cloak with one hand, all the while handling that fluff of white in the other. Gabriel was about to knock the blasted pillow or whatever it was out of her hand to drag her up the hill when the white fluff ball squeaked and jumped out of Rachel’s hand and into his chest. Gabriel caught it and realized quickly that it was a rather terrified and shivering puffskein.

“Priscilla?” he asked, and even in the torrential rain Rachel managed to blush a deep red as she finally unclasped her robes and made a grab for the puffskein. She tucked it under her cloak and began to button herself up again. Gabriel stood, astonished that she was taking such care and precaution with the animal; he’d never seen Rachel pay mind to anything but herself. Maybe he hadn’t been paying close enough attention.

Quickly, Gabriel pulled off his cloak and held it above both of their heads to give them some, albeit quite late, cover. Rachel glared at him for a moment before accepting her position under his arm and his cloak and they walked in unison up the hill to the school. Gabriel’s hair had been flattened to his face and out of the corner of his eye he saw that Rachel’s bow had been knocked completely askew. They looked a mess, but when they finally got under some cover the few yards of being under his cloak had felt like they’d caught a life preserver and had saved themselves from drowning.

“Well, that was a riot,” Gabriel said as he wrung out his cloak. He pulled out his wand to perform a few drying spells, but it seemed like they wouldn’t be enough to completely get rid of the water. He turned to Rachel with a sideways grin, “How’s Priscilla?”

At the sound of her name the puffskein pushed through the flaps between Rachel’s clasps and peered its head out. Gabriel laughed and Rachel couldn’t force back the tiny smile on her face. The puffskein cooed happily, looking very dry and warm, unlike them. Gabriel shook his head, reaching out to fix Rachel’s headband. He certainly wasn’t in as horrid of a mood as he had been. The rain seemed to wash away any ill feelings Gabriel may have been having and he didn’t even flinch when Rachel swatted his hand away and stalked off without another word.

Priscilla’s coos bounced off the walls of the empty corridor and Gabriel shook his head, a grin on his face as he slowly made his way back to Ravenclaw tower, soaking wet from the rain.

Emmeline’s toes wiggled wildly in her shoes and she hoped that they were the only physical sign of her nervousness. She stood tall, as tall as a frustratingly short second year could stand, and held her chin up in a clear expression of defiance.

“I was here first,” she stated, happy that her voice had not wavered like she had been worried it would.

The two Slytherin boys causing the trouble shared a quick glance, but then continued to dump the contents of their bags onto her table, earning a squawk from the girl that completely erased all of her earlier success at defiance. She had been saving the space for her year mates because they had a study session in half an hour and this table received the best natural light and was in a nook of Transfiguration texts that would be most vital to their exam preparations. Emmeline had been busy setting up their inkwells when the two Slytherins stopped beside her, demanding that she moved.

“You don’t need a full table,” said Nott, a boy she recognized from her mother’s fancy parties. He sat down and gestured for her to leave, curling his lip as he dropped his gaze to begin going over his notes. “Go on, shoo.”

His friend laughed as Emmeline’s face turned purple with fury. She had skipped out on dessert to hold onto this table and she was not going to let some---some---Slytherins take her spot! They did not own this table, they did not have more rights than her for this table! They were stupid third years! They probably thought they were so cool because they could go to Hogsmeade! What else could blow up their egos enough to think that they were divinely owed any piece of furniture they may so happen lay their eyes upon?

For her quick wit and extreme intelligence, Emmeline lacked foresight and that aspect of her personality was clear when she swiftly picked up one of the open inkwells and poured it onto Nott’s head. He let out a howl, his chair skidding away from the table. Emmeline jumped back, inkwell still tightly in her grip, her hands covered in ink to more than prove her guilt. Nott’s friend remained seated, gaping in shock, but Nott stood and rounded on Emmeline. She cowered, knowing that she was in for a nasty hex that she eighty-five percent deserved.

“I ought to break your little fingers!” he hissed, ink dripping down his face. Emmeline stumbled backwards, not realizing until this very instant how much taller than her Nott was. He lifted his wand and she shut her eyes, figuring it might hurt less if she didn’t see the spell coming. Emmeline’s fists had lifted to in front of her face and they hovered there for a moment, two, three. When no hex came, she dared to open her eyes.

Nott’s ink covered face was twisted into a sneer, but his eyes were locked onto something over Emmeline’s shoulder. She spun around and let out a surprised squeak at the sight of her cousin Frank pointing his wand angrily at Nott. Frank was even bigger than Nott was and this fact eased Emmeline’s mind and she scurried behind her Gryffindor cousin.

“Get out of here before I make you regret it,” Frank commanded through gritted teeth. Nott held his gaze for a few more seconds before muttering some rude words that made Emmeline’s eyes bulge. He and his friend quickly swept up their belongings and scowled at Frank and Emmeline as they passed. Emmeline watched them leave, sticking her tongue out at their backs because she suddenly felt quite brave again.

“They stole my table!” she explained before her cousin could ask. Emmeline rushed back to the table and cleared up some of the spilled ink with her wand, having forgotten she’d had it in her pocket during the entire ordeal. She should probably get better at remembering where it was, given how she was prone to run her mouth. She looked up at Frank after she was done, knees on the chair and hands pressed into the now smooth and perfectly clean wood. “Don’t give me that look.”

“Don’t attack Slytherins,” Frank retorted, eyebrows high. Emmeline shrugged, trying to behave as if she hadn’t been afraid, even though they both knew that was a lie. Still, she had watched her friends get bothered by Slytherins and other bullies too much already in the past two years, and if she could stand up for them, then she would.

Frank let out a breath and pulled out a seat at the table, sitting down and plucking a comic book out of his back pocket. Emmeline remained on her knees, staring at him in confusion. He frowned and waved her off as if already absorbed in the newest adventure of Martin Miggs the Mad Muggle, “I’ll leave when your friends get here.”

On the tip of her tongue was a whine that would scold Frank for seemingly babysitting her, but instead Emmeline kept the thought to herself and slid down into a proper seated position.

"You shouldn't read that rubbish."

"Shut it before I pour ink over your head."

Emmeline's face flared red and she began to reorganize the inkwells to expertly avoid Frank's snickers.

Gabriel’s eyes scanned the round table, his hands folded on top of each other on the smooth surface. He forced his eyelids not to twitch as he took in each face, each tired, exhausted, tweaked face.

“Buck up, you lot,” he said, not noticing that his words were slurred. Gabriel forced himself to sit up straighter, blinking furiously. He was the (self-appointed) leader of this group, he needed to make sure that they stuck to their study schedule, they needed him to keep their course. “This is our last all nighter before the O.W.L.s, we can’t give up now!”

“I can, I can give up,” Ian Bell moaned, one of his legs hanging over the arm of his chair. His hair was sticking up on end and streaked with ink, “I can give up very easily and not feel bad about it for a single bloody millisecond.”

The group of Ravenclaws had allowed Danielle Kettleburn, the most studious of the bunch, to create their study schedule for their O.W.L.s. It had seemed like a good idea at the beginning of term and they’d all been very sure of themselves that they wouldn’t need that much sleep! With pepper-up potions and caffeine, they would be able to handle it with the grace every Ravenclaw had inside of them. Now here they were on their fourth straight night of continuous study until breakfast, and they were beginning to feel the affects.

Thomas McCormack hiccuped again, as he had been doing for the past twenty minutes because he’d mixed too much pepper-up potion with a soda pop. Erin Jugson patted his back sympathetically while she downed another bottle of pop. She had been the one to remember the liquid’s effects on a person’s mental state and had her muggle grandmother send them a large supply of the rather disgusting drink. Gabriel had four open bottles of pop by the legs of his chair, and he mused out loud,

“We are not a very graceful group.”

“Who needs to be graceful when there’s still five chapters of Gobin revolts to go over?” Danielle snapped, her hands furiously flipping through the pages of her history text. No, not just a ‘history text,’ but a deluxe, Editor’s Edition that she’d refused to let any of them use because she hadn’t finished comparing each paragraph with the basic text that had been assigned to the fifth years. That had caused quite a scene, resulting in Ian carrying Erin off and out of the common room while she hurled hexes without her wand. Her hand and wrist movements were remarkably on point, Thomas had pointed out, which earned him a verbal severing hex to a very delicate spot.

Gabriel’s gaze broke from Danielle because the more he stared at her the bigger her hair seemed to get around her head. Beside her, Rose Knightley had propped up a tower of books so high that the blonde had completely disappeared behind them. Gabriel leaned over the arm of his chair to ask Rose if she was willing to let him see her Charms notes, but let out a groan.

“She’s out, Knightley’s out,” he proclaimed. With a quick flick of his wand Rose’s tower of books was moved and revealed no blonde Ravenclaw. She had managed to escape.

“She’s under--hic!---the table,” Thomas let out before he began to hold his breath again, hoping to stop the hiccups. Simultaneously, the five other Ravenclaws ducked their heads under the table and sure enough, there was Rose, curled up in a ball and looking rather peaceful. Gabriel was suddenly very jealous of Rose and did not say a word of protest when both Erin and Ian slipped under the table as well.

“There’s room for a--hic!--ten minute break,” Thomas pointed out as he dove under the table. Gabriel knew that he would not be able to take his break until all of his team had decided to, so he glared as hard as he could at Danielle. Hopefully she would be able to sense that he was boring a hole into her forehead, hoping to send her to sleep with just his weary mind. To his surprise, she actually did pull her gaze from the textbook and blinked at him.

“Can we really afford a break?” she asked seriously, her quill blotting her page quite badly. Gabriel would have laughed in amusement if it wasn’t four o’clock in the morning and that he felt like strangling her for questioning this. He nodded.

“Under the table, Kettleburn,” he ordered, sliding out of his seat the moment Danielle’s poof of hair disappeared under the table. Gabriel found himself between the slumbering Rose and Ian, who was already knocked out cold on the rug. Erin gave Thomas a quick smack in the gut, which amazingly stopped his hiccups and earned Erin the other boy’s chest as a pillow. Danielle had brought her text book with her and propped it up under her head, muttering something about ‘osmosis.’

Gabriel let out a breath, stretching his legs out under his chair and resting his head on his arm. Right, this was good, the team deserved this, they needed this.

Ten minutes, he scolded himself silently, they could only afford ten minutes.