Chapter 8
Rebecca was relieved that Hermione had Ancient Runes on Thursday afternoon. After Dumbledore's meeting, Rebecca hadn't found a single moment when Hermione let her out of her sight.
Worse, it wasn't like Hermione was actively trying to be malicious of smothering. Rebecca made herself remember this every time she wanted to snap at Hermione and run off for a moment alone. Hermione just seemed particularly lonesome, needing near constant companionship.
"I guess she and George were quite close." Rebecca thought as she asked for the Room of Requirement for the room she had gotten the first night back in the castle. "I always did wonder who George found to listen to him when Fred and I were-" End of thought.
It was Rebecca's solution to Hogwarts without Fred. Outside of the few minutes she returned his letters or allowed herself a smell from the Amortentia she kept hidden in their room's bathroom, she did her best to not think of him. It was hard and it hurt, but she had hardly make it through the first week and she knew if she didn't try something, she was going to end up breaking down.
Draco froze down the hall as Rebecca disappeared into the very limitless-possibilitied room. He needed it for himself and now he would have to wait until she was done doing whatever it was she had to. "Stupid. Didn't even ask for it to be unfindable!" Draco snuck to the door and listened to the cacophony of nonsense happening. There was a scratching, static noise before music began to play, but it was hard to hear what record it was with the banging of metal and horribly off-tune singing.
It also didn't help that Rebecca didn't seem to care if she knew the words of not. Draco shook his head in disbelief and brought his hand up, pounding on the door.
"Bloody fucking hell. Find a single minute to myself and still have-" Rebecca threw the door open, expecting Harry or Hermione. "Draco?"
"The one and only." Draco crossed his arms, trying to look intimidating. If anyone were to walk by and see him not domineering over a Potter... "What are you doing?"
Rebecca copied his stance, raising an eyebrow. "I could ask you the same, considering you're interrupting me."
Draco bit his cheek. His mind was entirely blank. "Fine." He turned on his heel, busy planning through the week for the next time he would be able to escape his housemates' attention.
"You can come in." Rebecca called after him, something pushing her towards doing so. "If you want, that is. It's my fault, anyway." She sighed heavily. "I forgot to ask for privacy because I wanted some biscuits. Ended up with too many."
Draco followed her into the room, but the door disappeared after he shut it behind him.
"What?" Rebecca asked as he looked at her. "I learnt my lesson."
Draco took the chair by the table on the exiting-side of the room, a heaping pile of biscuits on top. It occured to Rebecca then that, if Draco really was Death Eater now, she had just locked herself in a room with him. But when she looked over her shoulder at him and saw how he was picking at a biscuit with a book in hand, she pushed the thought out of her mind. They couldn't be true.
"You don't mind, do you?" Rebecca didn't wait for an answer and moved the needle back to the still-spinning record. She bobbed her head and walked back to the chalkboard, putting up the rest of the current recipe iteration she was testing. Then, she went straight to her laboratory-like set up to begin.
Draco read the board curiously before standing and going to her desk. "What class is this for?" He asked, tilting his head over the brew she was beginning.
"Extra-curricular exploration."
"Really?" Draco scoffed. "Don't you think this is a waste of time?"
"It was supposed to be a peaceful break."
Draco furrowed his brow. "Sorry. I can go."
"I'm not saying you have to go, just don't be so-" Rebecca gestured her hand over him. "Arseholeish."
A laugh made its way out of Draco and surprised them both. "I'll try then. Will you tell me what you're working on?"
"Nope." Rebecca grinned and returned her attention to the ingredients she was preparing for the mortar and pestle. "You're still a prefect. Besides, don't you want to be surprised?"
"Not really." Draco pushed for an answer. "You won't even give me a hint?"
Rebecca considered it. "Depends. Are you willing to test it?"
"If that's how I figure out what you're doing, I don't see a choice."
Rebecca giggled, scraping the mixture into her cauldron which let off a thick, purple gas before sparking. "There's always a choice." She wasn't disturbed by the effect the addition had to her potion; far from it, she needed more of the effect to burn off during the creating-stage than the previous versions.
Draco returned to his chair from before and propped his book open again. He'd only made it through one biscuit before realising there was no way he would be able to distract himself by the real reason he needed the Room of Requirement, especially not since he couldn't tear his eyes away from her.
Rebecca switched the records twice, always moving with the music one way or another as she worked. Draco tried to take the recipe and the ingredients she had written in chalk to make a guess as to what she was making, but he couldn't come up with anything that could make sense.
Nearly an hour later, Rebecca skipped in front of him with a vial in hand and an accomplished smile. "Go on then, a drop behind your ear."
Draco eyed the golden oil in the vial warily. "Maybe I do just want to be surprised..."
"Don't be a spoilsport! One drop." Rebecca held it out farther. "Come on-"
"Fine." Draco took the vial and looked at the thick, goopy gold inside. Letting a single drop land on his finger, he dabbed it under the edge of his white-blond hair. It had a spiced smell to it, almost like an old cinnamon pot that had been left to simmer somewhere old.
"Now try and say something." Rebecca reached behind her and grabbed the notebook she had with this attempted recipe ready. She waited to see if it was ready to be sent to Fred and George for final judgement.
"AVE MARI-" Draco clapped his hand over his mouth at the vibrato worthy of an Italian opera professional poured out of his mouth. "GRA-"
Rebecca wrote as she hurried the vial back to the letter-writing desk. She wanted this included in the letter she had mostly finished to Fred and George, hoping to stop by the Owlery before joining the others for studying
"What the hell was that?" Draco demanded.
Rebecca didn't look up, scratching away at her message. Draco took the quill from her hand, causing it to smear across the paper. "Hey!"
"What. Was. That?" He enunciated slowly, holding the quill up out of her reach.
"This would be classified as arseholish." Rebecca took her wand out and remedied the ink errors, frowning as she looked to Draco at last. "The oil?"
"No, the bloody weather. Yes, the oil!"
"That would be my first perfected solo product, if it pleases you." Rebecca slapped the desk loudly, causing Draco to jump. "Give me my quill!" He handed it over without hesitation, still startled by the echoing in the room. "I've got the name--Operatic Oil!"
Draco stood awkwardly as she wrote a moment longer, finishing her message and sticking the vial into the envelope alongside her letter.
"Thank you." Rebecca said when she was finally finished, not intending to have come across as rude but fully caught in her work. "For testing, that is. It's not as much fun to test variations by yourself."
"How are Weasel-bee one and two?" Draco's tone didn't have the edge it usually did when talking about a Weasley and Rebecca didn't fail to notice the change.
"Why do you have to do that?" Rebecca swung her bag over her shoulder and looked behind him at the biscuits left, wondering if she wanted some more or if they just sounded good. "You know damn well it's Weasley. Unless," Rebecca looked up at him concerned. "You're feeling confused?"
Draco rolled his eyes. Of course, only Saint Potter would be worrying about him to make his task all the much harder. "Your oil hasn't left me foggy."
"Okay." Rebecca frowned. "Then why do you have to bad mouth them? Us, really."
Draco hated that she had framed the opportunity in front of himself so perfectly, almost as much as he hated himself. It was worth it though, all of the self-hatred. If he didn't sever all ties with her--sever them entirely and completely--she was going to get hurt. "No, not really. You're not even one of them."
Rebecca opened her mouth to tell him off, but he continued before she could.
"You're not. You're not a Weasley and..." Draco squared his shoulders, facing her directly. If he was going to do this, he would look into her eyes and let them haunt him like everything else he had been given would. "You never, ever will be. You do see it, don't you? You've landed on them like a charity, a pet. Better, an orphan. Another mouth to feed and an extra they can't wait to be rid of."
Rebecca looked at him, unable to make a sound. She wanted to scream, she wanted to hit him, she wanted to cry, she wanted to leave. But her feet stopped listening to her and her brain was in no state to give orders--Draco's words echoed on and on between her ears.
He had captured her worst fear. She had gotten used to a family, to love and happiness in a home. If it were all torn away, it wouldn't be like her before--her life with William. Rebecca knew what it was like to be treated well now, to be loved and have things to love. Everything inside of Rebecca fighting with itself welled up into tears that she couldn't keep from falling. Rebecca brushed the defiant few away quickly. "You really are an arse."
Her feet came back to life, guiding her from the room that emptied as she left. Her desk, her boards, her ideas and records and notes. Her space faded into grey until Draco left the room and asked for what he had really required: the room with mounds of piles of discarded furniture and antiques from the castle's long life. The room with the vanishing cabinet.
Rebecca thought that leaving Draco behind would make her feel slightly better, that it could begin to solve her problems and fix her pain. She couldn't have been any more wrong.
She had to stop in the first lavatory she found, unable to contain herself any longer. Every breath felt like it wasn't bringing enough oxygen to her head, her hands shook even though she tucked them under her elbows. Rebecca had to bend to one knee to keep herself from toppling over. Panic and pain-nearing-anguish tormented her and she couldn't have stopped these tears if she tried.
When Ginny had left Transfiguration minutes earlier, she had done so to get away from the neverending lecture. Finding Rebecca in such an uncharacteristic, unsoothable state left Ginny certain it was fate. Ginny crouched beside Rebecca instantly, rubbing her back to try and ease the sobs wracking through her. "What's happened?"
Rebecca shook her head.
"Rebecca, I need to know." Ginny led Rebecca's head to her shoulder, afraid by how tightly Rebecca clung to her. "Should I-Do I need to get Hermione? Will that help?" Ginny could feel herself growing closer to panic with every shudder of Rebecca's shoulders and the lack of explanation.
Rebecca shook her head without lifting it from Ginny.
"Then I'm afraid you'll have to give me a name." Ginny gritted her teeth, wondering for the very first time if this had come from Fred. It would explain the pain in Rebecca's tears, but there wasn't any other way to explain a cause. "Ron and I, Harry too, we have an arse to beat no matter whose it is."
"Don't." Rebecca took a shuddery breath, then another. Putting herself back together was slow, and it didn't ease the pain around the edges of her being.
"If I can't have who," Ginny was growing desperate. The silence from Rebecca was too reminiscent of when she had first gotten to the Burrow, to the months and--if Ginny was honest with herself--the years it had taken for Rebecca to become who she was now. "I at least have to know what they said."
"It was Malfoy." Rebecca didn't leave Ginny's embrace and Ginny didn't stop running her hand up and down Rebecca's back. "He said-I don't see how it matters. He said what he said. Repeating it won't change anything."
"It does matter. It matters to me." Ginny leaned to the side catching Rebecca's eye. "It matters to me because it's upset you so much."
Rebecca's eyes filled with tears again. "I'm not a Weasley. I'm not one of you and I never will be. I'm-" Ginny's face couldn't mask her rage, nor how it grew. "I'm just an orphan." Rebecca wiped at her tears, but the tracks down her cheeks returned as soon as she had.
Ginny tightened her hold on Rebecca's shoulders to the point of pain. She held Rebecca away enough to see her face completely. Ginny's voice was laced with pain and danger. "Those are all lies. You know it."
Rebecca tried to escape her grip, but wasn't able to. "I know they are. You don't understand."
"Make me."
"You can't!" Rebecca cried out. "You can't."
Ginny narrowed her eyes. "Don't tell me what I can and can't understand."
"You'll never, ever have to worry about being tossed." Rebecca had to collect her words, but Ginny was stunned into silence anyway. "If mu-Molly and Arthur decided tomorrow they were done being my guardians, they could. If all the lunacy that follows me grew too much, they could-" Ginny reached forward and hit the side of Rebecca's head. "Hey!" Ginny did it again, hitting Rebecca on the other side. "S-stop!"
"You stop!" Ginny roared, bring her hands up to beat Rebecca further. "Boo hoo! The big bad Slytherin said something mean!" Ginny lowered her hands, seeing how Rebecca was looking at her. Ginny hugged her tighter than she had before. "And don't correct yourself either. They're mum and dad now."
Rebecca laid her head back on Ginny's collar. The comfort of being held--even in a toilet--was undeniably comforting.
"You are a Weasley, now and always. Especially always, if one way or another."
Rebecca wondered if it was post-emotion that left her confused or simply the vagueness of Ginny's insinuation. "What?"
"Well, you know..." Ginny rolled her eyes. "One day there'll be a hyphen."
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"Say hi if you see Darcy out there, yeah?" Rebecca asked Hedwig softly in the Owlery post-supper that evening. She had wandered back to her room after the Draco-Ginny incident and found that she had fallen into a deep sleep as soon as her head hit her pillow.
That had been how Hermione found her before dinner, actually: Robes on, snoring, dead to the world.
Hedwig chirped and pushed her head into Rebecca's hand for a final scratch before heading off into the night with the letter and vial from the afternoon. Rebecca had considered adding in a secondary note about all that had happened, but decided against it. There was no need to bother Fred with something as silly as-
"Darcy?"
The big, chocolate brown owl landed in front of Rebecca. His feathers ruffled and he held his foot out pointedly, unhappy with the way in which Fred had sent him out with the letter attached to him now.
Rebecca untied it easily and found the note inside straight to the point.
Statue of the one-eyed witch--Eleven.
-Fred
Rebecca hurried away from Owlery after that. She already had the Invisibility Cloak from a jaunt after-hours earlier in the week. Harry had given it without question, just a warning that she had better get him if she were leaving the castle. Rebecca couldn't help but smile at the memory as she stepped back through the portrait hole.
"Did you know?" Hermione demanded, whirling on Rebecca with a scowl.
"Know what? Bloody hell, I just walked in!"
"No, I know you didn't." Hermione shook her head and muttered. "You have some sense."
Rebecca crossed her arms, though no one was listening to her anymore. "I personally like to think I have a little more than 'some.'"
Ron spoke from where he was lounged across the couch, moving his legs so Rebecca could set too. "Hermione's jealous because the book Harry has got him at the top of the class, higher than both of you!"
Rebecca snorted and watched as Harry and Hermione went back and forth, thinking neither were paying her and Ron any attention. "Yeah, sure he is. It's the first week and he can't be higher than me without besting me--which he hasn't yet."
"Not the point!" Hermione interrupted Harry's rebuttal and Rebecca, wanting to know if he had followed the tips to win the Liquid Luck. "Let us see the book."
"No!" Harry held the book at his side, backing away from Hermione and the now-standing Rebecca. "The binding is fragile."
"Fragile?" Rebecca repeated incredulously. "What the hell is going on?"
"That book--his tips--are coming from an unknown author." Hermione furrowed her brow.
Ginny, who had been sitting behind them all, grabbed the book from Harry's hand and opened it with a seed of terror planted in her chest. "Who's the half-blood prince?"
"Who?" Rebecca asked, stepping to Ginny's side and reading the name for herself. Rebecca tried to unscramble the letters as Harry and Ron had said Voldemort did with Tom Marvolo Riddle in the Chamber, unable to get anything.
"That's what it says right here," Ginny spoke softly, knowing Rebecca particularly struggled with reading cursive. "This book is property of the Half-Blood Prince." Ginny's voice was small as she looked to Harry, afraid for him. "You've been following words in a book and you don't know where they came from?"
"It's not like that!" Harry said quickly. "Look, go for it if you want. I've already made sure they're just notes." Hermione and Ginny began casting diagnostic charms and spells over the book while Harry gave Rebecca a nudge. "I'm not a complete half-wit."
Rebecca nudged him again, staying close to him once he righted himself. "You know they're just watching out for you."
"I know." Harry sighed. "I'm not at the top of the class, just so you know."
Rebecca snorted. "I know." S he patted his back before climbing the stairs to her room. The evening was growing late enough that she could finish one last homework assignment before leaving the tower. "But I don't need anonymous tips." She called to Harry from the stairs with a grin.
Harry stuck his tongue out at her before taking the book Hermione and Ginny held back out to him.
The last thing Rebecca heard from the common room was Hermione. "It would appear that they are just notes..."
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"Oh, I guess another wouldn't hurt." The Fat Lady raised her hand in her sleep as if she were still holding the she had dropped hours before. Rebecca opening the door to the portrait hole disturbed the painting, but didn't wake her.
Rebecca crept down the hall safely under the Invisibility Cloak, unsure if the patrolling aurors would be anywhere on her way to the statue behind the one-eyed witch. The hardest part about the trip was keeping herself calm. Something was off about Fred's note. It was too brief, the writing too dark--he had written angrily.
As soon as she reached the tunnel to Hogsmeade, Rebecca found that she was entirely right about one thing: Fred was furious. Ginny had written him a brief, minimally detailed letter during lunch to tell him to be extra sweet when the two of them would meet in Hogsmeade weeks later. Ginny nudged Fred to send off an extra-sappy letter, too. All leading Fred to the conclusion that something had to have happened, something he wasn't being told about.
Fred paced back and forth in front of the torch he had lit in one of the countless sconces peppered throughout the walkway. His wand was in hand, but he had no idea what he could do with it. It's not like he could magic the world into the perfect haven Rebecca deserved, he couldn't do away with anything that would ever upset her. In this instance, it was entirely useless to Fred.
"Fred?" Rebecca called, hearing footsteps near the only light in the tunnel.
"Wouldn't you be buggered if I were someone else?" Fred remarked.
Rebecca appeared out of the shadows as she tore the cloak off and left it where it fell, wrapping her arms around him tightly.
Fred cradled her head against him, kissing the top of her head gently. "Ginny wrote." He held her with just as much need as she was.
"She didn't need to." Rebecca frowned, looking up at him. "I'm fine."
Fred shook his head. "She said it was the most upset she had ever seen you--you scared her."
Rebecca closed her eyes and laid her head back on his chest. "It's done, in the past."
Fred's face set in a scowl. "Was it Seamus again?"
"Fr-"
"It was Ron, wasn't it? What's he being an idiot about now?"
"No, it-"
"I swear to Merlin, I'll tear them to shreds and-"
"Fred!" Rebecca's hands tightened on his waist, shaking him once into silence. "It was Malfoy. I don't-He just shocked me."
"Shocked?" Fred repeated, his disbelief evident.
"I..." The corner of Rebecca's mouth turned down slightly. "I wanted to believe that you could choose to be good. I won't be so naive next time."
"W-what did he say, my love?" Fred was almost afraid to know. Rebecca believed in choice more than anything, more than honesty and goodness.
Rebecca repeated it, finding that the hurt was brought back just as if Draco had told her it all over again. At least, she tried to rationalise, she had Fred to hold this time.
"You're not naive." Fred laid his hands on Rebecca's shoulders, holding her against the wall of the tunnel. He felt every inch of his being screaming, in anger, in pain. Rebecca's breath caught in her throat as he held her tighter, a fierce glint in his eyes magnified by the firelight. "Everyone has a choice. Everyone makes the choice to do what's right or what's wrong; you've always believed that." Fred brought his face closer to hers, his words slow and level despite the war raging inside of him. "And he was wrong."
Rebecca met his eyes, but was entirely speechless.
Fred could see the thoughts spinning in her head, and could see how she mulled over his words. The fight went out of him and he couldn't help a crooked smile. "You're mine." And then he kissed her passionately.
*******************************************
"I don't see why you can't just tell me." Fred pouted. "It's not like I won't know the second I get back."
"I don't know if I could describe it right." Rebecca wasn't wrong, either. After his proclamation, they had spent more time than they should have in the tunnel snogging. Her head still felt like it was floating, Fred's effect on her distractingly potent. Rebecca tried to blame it on how much she had been missing him, but there was something else. Something about the way he had said those words.
"You're mine."
"Hello?" Fred waved a hand in front of her distant-looking eyes. "I was begging for information?"
"You'll see when you get back." Rebecca put her arm around his shoulders, able to easily with how he had leaned forward to try and recapture her attention. Fred buried his face into the crook of her neck, leaving a trail of kisses from her collarbone to the corner of her jaw. Rebecca tangled her fingers into his hair, trying to make herself stop him. "Don't."
Fred paused, his lips still against her skin. "Don't what?" With each word, his lips brushed against her skin and with his breath. She didn't say anything, unable to make herself say no when that was the opposite of what she wanted. "Okay, okay." Fred conceded. "It is a school night, after all."
Rebecca nodded. "Yes, it is. And you're not supposed to be here."
"Funny how you only bring that up after you molest me."
"Molest?!"
"I was not a willing participant in this, not at all. This was entirely one sided." Fred watched how she tried to stay serious, but she had to laugh. It was an absurd idea. She picked up the cloak and brushed it off before holding it at her side. "I know." Fred said.
"You know what?" Rebecca countered cheekily.
"I know you love me, that's what you were thinking."
Rebecca shrugged. "Maybe."
"Maybe?" Fred laid a hand on the wall, bending at the knee like she'd made him weak.
Rebecca walked up to him and kissed his cheek. "Maybe. Write to me tomorrow about what you think, okay?"
Fred nodded and he caught her hand as she walked away. "Love?" Rebecca closed her eyes a moment, trying to contain her sadness before turning back to him. "Don't forget your friends are here, okay?" Rebecca wrapped her arms around him again, the answer clear. "And good luck tomorrow. Well, today now." Fred glanced at his watch and sighed. "I didn't mean to have you out so late."
"I'm a co-captain, I should only have half the work. Besides, I think I needed this." Rebecca looked up at him shyly. "You, I mean."
"Obliged to help, m'lady." Fred lifted his pretend cap to her before kissing her a final goodbye.
The castle was as empty as it had been on her way to the tunnel, at first. This made sense since it was nearly half past one. But, as Rebecca walked past the third corridor's intersection on the way, she found the collection of aurors.
Three were huddled around each other, talking freely on what must have been a break.
"Those centaurians..." The bearded man's voice rumbled deeply, making Rebecca think of grating boulders. "They're raising cain out there, ain't they?"
"Yes, McGorvich. Just as they were last night, and the night before that, and the-"
"That's enough, Ute." The third woman silenced the second woman's bickering with the tall man before it could start in earnest. "You only get the one break. Don't waste it arguing."
"Thank you, Swanson." The man, McGorvich, thanked her pointedly. "I just wanted to see if there had been any information on what has them so riled up."
Ute put a cigarette between her teeth, ignoring the frown from Swanson--their leader. "It's that tree." She mumbled as she brought her wand's end up with a flame on the end.
Rebecca froze, straining to catch their conversation in its entirety as the aurors spoke on. They weren't speaking in hushed tones, or hiding anything about the topic. For all they knew, they were in the privacy of a sleeping castle.
"That does seem to be the precipice of their festivities." Swanson admitted.
"What festivities?" McGorvich plucked the cigarette from Ute's lips and took a long drag from it before handing it back. "Is that what they're calling the ruckus?"
"Albus received a message from their leader--the centaurs, I mean." Swanson sighed and checked the time. "Something about the stars commanding a new hero to rise, but you didn't hear it from me." She gave the next patrol's instructions to the other aurors before the three split and went their separate ways.
Rebecca was stuck in thought well after the aurors had gone off, but she eventually wandered back to bed. She wouldn't be getting any information before morning. "Nothing is ever easy." Rebecca thought before she drifted off to sleep, grateful that Hermione hadn't noticed her nighttime absence.
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"Are you ill?" Hermione peered over Rebecca's still-sleeping self the next morning, shaking her shoulder lightly. "I've been calling you for ages now. You're going to want breakfast."
Rebecca stretched and mumbled something about beign tired.
Ginny threw Rebecca's quidditch kit at her, grinning all the while. "C'mon! Can't be late!" Rebecca shrugged the uniform off from where it hung on her shoulders. "Chop chop!"
Eyes growing accustomed to the bright morning light, Rebecca stood. "I know, I know. I'm up now." Donning her kit, she couldn't help but smile at the 'captain' patch on the sleeve. "Breakfast?" She called, hurrying out of the room like she was the one waiting for them.
Ginny ran after Rebecca, Hermione trailing behind as she struggled to decide on which book to bring to the stands. "So? How was last night?"
"It was a mistake, Ginny." Rebecca put her arm around her as they went down the stairs, Harry and Ron making their way to the door and waiting for them. "A wonderful, perfect, brilliant mistake. He can't come save every bad day."
"He didn't save the day." Ginny grumbled. "I did."
"I guess you're right!" Rebecca laughed. "It was perfect though."
"What was perfect?" Ron nosed in.
"Funny. I didn't realise we'd invited you into our conversation, Ronald." Ron gave Ginny a face, and Ginny launched forward to shove him before running down the stairs with him in hot pursuit.
"You're feeling better, I guess?" Harry fell into step beside Rebecca, straightening his shirt.
"Were you spying on me with the map?" Rebecca asked shocked. "After all the work we've put into bounda-"
"Ginny asked me what I thought about owling for Fred." Harry rolled his eyes. "And if I had used the map, it wouldn't have been spying. It would have been..." He tried to find the perfect term. "Safety reconnaissance!"
Rebecca was quiet a moment, following Harry into the crowded breakfast fall. "I'm feeling fine." She said at last, glancing at Harry before looking away again. "He knows how to fix everything." A blush simmered lightly on her cheeks and refused to fade as she and Harry joined the now silently communicating Ron and Ginny.
Ginny crossed her thumb across her throat at Ron menacingly, Ron countered by sticking two fingers up at her.
"Ronald!" Hermione gasped, sitting on the other side of him. "You are a prefect!"
"But she-"
"I don't even want to know." Hermione's voice took on the frightening tone it did when she was deadly serious about something. "Don't do that again--at least not in the hall!" Ron turned his attention away from the sibling conflict to console himself with the breakfast spread in front of them.
Rebecca plucked a muffin from the plate, but shook her head when she caught sight of Emmet eating entirely alone at the end of the table.
"We have to leave in-" Harry tried to warn.
"Five minutes, I know." Rebecca patted Harry's shoulder as she passed behind him. "It's still five minutes." Rebecca slid onto the bench across from the first year and smiled warmly. "Good morning!"
Emmet looked up and down the table before returning his eyes to the bowl in front of him. "You don't have to sit with me. I know you just feel bad."
"I don't feel badly for you." Rebecca leaned forward, grabbing an apple from the bowl and hoping she'd have time to finish on the walk to the pitch. "I feel badly for all these nutters, they don't know what they're missing out on!"
Emmet didn't say anything on what she had said, but her outfit. "Where're you going in that?"
Rebecca noticed how Harry was motioning for her to wrap it up. "Quidditch tryouts! You should come, Hermione'll be in the stands too."
Emmet stood with a frown. He didn't have anywhere else to be, not if he couldn't go home.
Rebecca glanced from Hermione to the first year beside her pointedly, albeit unnecessarily. "I hope you're offering to keep me company." Hermione said gently. Emmet nodded once. "Good."
Harry hurried Rebecca along, saddened by the boy beside Hermione at the back of their group. "He still not getting on?"
"Doesn't seem it." Rebecca shook her head. "I asked Nigel to make sure he was okay, but it's not enough. I've got something I'm planning for Monday and I think I'll ask Emmet to help."
"Plans? Since when do you make plans?" Harry snorted. "Are you late for your own plans or is that just for everything else?"
Rebecca took a bite of her apple, ignoring his teasing and taking account of the group already formed on the pitch. "Instead of being a git, why don't you think about the tryouts we're about to put on?"
Harry chewed his cheek. "You don't have a plan?"
"I thought I didn't make plans?" Rebecca smiled cheekily. "'Course I have a plan. I always have a plan."
*******************************************
"This? This was your plan?" Harry muttered his annoyance. "To let them 'talk themselves out?'"
"I thought it would work! Just say something and get their attention."
"Me? Why can't you? You're the people-person."
"Harry, that is bull-"
"SHUT IT!" Ginny shouted over the group of endlessly chatting students. They went silent immediately. Harry looked to Ginny thankfully and Rebecca moved forward to survey the lot.
"Alright, here's what we're going to do." Rebecca gestured to the pitch behind them. "We're going to be running some drills to assess your skills and whatnot."
"Remember," Harry warned. "Just because you made the team last year does not guarantee you a spot this year. Is that clear?"
No one answered.
"Good!" Rebecca called for the chasers to follow her while Harry called for the beaters to go to him.
Ron glanced up at the stands where Hermione waved next to the slowly-opening up Emmet as he stretched for the keeping drills.
Ron was knocked roughly as Cormac McLaggen stepped to his side. "No hard feelings, Weasley, alright?"
"Hard feelings?"
"Yeah." Cormac answered like the answer was obvious. "I'll be going out for keeper as well. It's nothing personal."
"Really? Strapping guy like you?" Ron looked the other boy over. "You've got more of a beater's build, don't you think?" The other boy was taller than Ron was and considerably more broad. His arms were thick and every angle about him was defined. "Keepers need to be quick, agil-"
Cormac's hand shot into the space between them and caught the fly that had been buzzing around their heads in one go. "I like my chances." Cormac turned his attention up towards the stands. "Could you introduce me to your friend Granger? Wouldn't mind getting on first-name basis, if you know what I mean." He grinned at Ron and bumped his arm.
Ron didn't open his mouth. He had a sickening feeling that he would say something he would sorely regret. Luckily, Ron didn't have a chance. Rebecca and Harry called for the keepers to each take a side of the pitch. The crowd cheered loudly, more support for Ron than not and only a few voices shouting for Cormac.
Emmet watched as Hermione closed her book, her attention paid entirely to the game in front of them.
Ginny was clearly one of the best chasers on the pitch, rivaled only by Rebecca who was more occupied by analysing the players alongside Harry. "McLaggen's doing a good job." Harry admitted softly.
"Ron hasn't had his chance yet, he'll do better." Rebecca wasn't worried, not entirely. Ron was a good keeper, he just had to be in the right mindset. Seeing Ron hold onto his broom for dear life, however, made Rebecca worry more. "Bloody hell."
Hermione narrowed her eyes at Lavender a few rows ahead of them, especially when she continued to cheer for Ron and dramatically gasp every time the quaffle so much as inched towards him.
The waffle, as Emmet continued to accidentally call it, was stolen by Ginny and taken back towards the other boy--the one Emmet thought sort of looked like a painting. He looked down at his shoes and noticed his laces were uneven.
Hermione turned her head and whispered into her hand as Ginny wound her arm back to make the shot McLaggen had more of a chance of blocking than not. "Confundus."
"Did you say something?" Emmet sat back up.
"No, did you?"
Emmet looked at her carefully. "No..."
A few minutes later, after Ron made an exceptionally fancy save by spinning under his broom to block the quaffle with his helmet, Lavender turned to Luna who was beside her. "Isn't he brilliant?"
Luna blinked. "Not particularly."
Down on the pitch, Harry and Rebecca turned their attention to the beaters. "Look at her, she swings like an executioner."
Harry looked at Rebecca oddly. "That is not a normal comparison."
Rebecca ignored him, looking farther down the row where another girl's bat whistled it swung so fiercely. "And her! This is damn near impossible. What if we chose them all. No, don't give me that look. We pick them all and make them take turns so-"
"That is impossible." McGonagall said from behind them. "You must choose one person to fill the position and one to be their replacement. That is it." Rebecca looked at the ground, ashamed McGonagall had heard her.
"How do you pick?" Harry asked. "How did you pick us?"
McGonagall gave them a small smile. "You two were a little out of the ordinary. I knew how your father flew." The professor looked out over the pitch. "It's something I just knew."
"We have until this afternoon, right?" Rebecca asked.
"Yes, until three. The lists have to be approved and then posted before supper." McGonagall looked between them both. "I trust co-captains to be on the same page with each decision."
Harry and Rebecca answered in unison. "Of course."
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The Great Hall was filled with the sounds of scraping cutler, celebration, and loss.
"I hope Cormac's not taking it too hard." Ron said as he cut into another serving of chicken, sounding like he absolutely hoped Cormac was suffering. "Hev ot a ing or ou, 'ermione."
Hermione looked at Ron warily. "I do not speak food-in-mouth."
Rebecca chimed in happily. "I do! He said Cormac's got a thing for you." Ron nodded, continuing to eat.
Hermione frowned. "He's positively vile."
Harry ignored the feeling of Ginny's eyes landing on him and instead, focused on getting the last greenbean off his plate onto his fork.
Emmet waved to Rebecca from down the table. After tryouts had finished and a list had been made, Rebecca went on a hunt for every Gryffindor first year she could find to tell them about the mental rumour she had heard about Emmet and Monday morning. More and more details had been added as the rumour started to spread on its own.
Of course, Rebecca had made sure it was okay with Emmet in the first place. The second she had walked next to him as they walked back up to the castle, Emmet's curiosity got the better of him and he had to ask. "Why are you doing this? Don't you have your own issues to solve?" Emmet hadn't asked cruelly, he just wanted to know.
"I don't know." Rebecca smiled as Emmet pulled a face. "Honest! I don't." She sighed. "My boyfriend's not here this year. I thought it would be something he'd have agreed with, helping you."
"Fred?" Emmet asked carefully.
"Where'd you figure that out?" Rebecca laughed.
Emmet joined her laughter, finding the feeling almost strange after the lonely time he had had. "You get letters from a Fred every morning and you tear into them like presents!"
Harry leaned forward. "That's not just because it's him, she opens every envelope like that." Emmet thought that was even funnier, laughing all the much harder.
Harry turned to Ron after a moment, wanting to go over a few quirks of his keeping that needed improvement.
Rebecca put an arm around Emmet's shoulders, lowering her voice. "Listen to this, here's how we're going to get you out there..."
The idea had been a lot better in her head, especially when she and Emmet ended up in front of Professor McGonagall's desk side-by-side.
"That's the look Rebecca warned me about." Emmet thought, only able to look straight into their head of house's eyes a few seconds before having to look away. "It really does scream in disappointment."
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