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****

The Sirius Black fan club was unofficially led by a fifth-year Ravenclaw named Elvira Vablatsky, who had been one of the first to latch onto Sirius – or attempt to – in about second year. She was a statuesque blonde girl with a pretty face and a keen mind, but her infatuation with Sirius made her a laughing stock with the rest of the school. Due to my spending a tidy amount of time in the Ravenclaw common room with Bea, I knew her reasonably well and as a result she tended to use me as a source of information for anything Gryffindor-related. I got along with her fine when she was focusing on things other than Sirius, but her one track mind generally made conversations with her rather difficult.

Over the past couple of years she had been joined by a few girls in our year – Carol Jones, a dark haired girl from Hufflepuff, and Greta Catchlove, a short, curvy and somewhat plump Ravenclaw, were the ones which most readily came to mind, though there were others. There were maybe eight girls from the year below us who had also joined in the throng – a couple or so from each of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, and even a Slytherin who was trying her hardest to be subtle about it. Another half dozen or so came from the year below that, obviously figuring that two years was an acceptable age gap for at-school relationships. And I was pretty sure that at least three or four of the fan club came from sixth or seventh year, clearly happy going for a younger man.

James Potter had a fan club of his own, but it was significantly smaller – not because he was that much uglier, but because everyone knew he wanted Lily. The half dozen girls who had set their sights on him saw him as a much more of a challenge and therefore worth spending some time on. He was tall, dark and handsome, just as Sirius was (though maybe not quite as handsome), and rich, just as Sirius was, but the Lily thing was either a significant deterrent or a significant turn-on, depending on the girl. James, of course, was even less interested in his following than Sirius was in his and paid them even less attention, if that was possible.

“Of course, it’ll be easy to get back at them,” Martha said the following morning as she pulled on her school robes. “They’re so obsessed with trying to get Sirius to notice them that you just have to attack their vanity. Make them ugly. They’ll hate it.”

“That won’t be difficult,” Lily mused. “With Greta and Carol, at least. They’re pretty ugly to start with, we don’t have to do much.”

“Harder with Elvira, though,” Charlotte pointed out, polishing her glasses on her robes. “She’s a bit of a stunner, really. If she didn’t keep throwing herself at him she might have even had a chance.”

“Yeah, well,” Martha said sourly, “don’t let that stop you. She’s going to have to be the main target, I think, considering she’s basically the leader. Turn her hair to Murtlap tentacles or something, that’d do the job.”

“Maybe not that,” Lily said slowly, giving her wand a bit of a twirl, “but certainly something along those lines . Leave it with me and I’ll see what I can come up with.”

Over the next twenty-four hours Lily, Charlotte and Martha decided on their course of action. They picked as their targets the most prominent members of the club, namely Elvira, Carol Jones, Leda Madley, Greta Catchlove and, from fourth year, Primrose McLeod. Leda and Carol were both Hufflepuffs and the rest were in Ravenclaw, so there needed to be a bit of a combined effort to make sure they were all affected.

The prank itself took place in the Great Hall and was carried out by Lily and Charlotte, so that Martha could be witnessed sitting innocently at the Gryffindor table talking to Mary and me (on Lily’s request) so everyone would think she had nothing to do with it. Lily and Charlotte positioned themselves on either side of the door before breakfast the next morning and simply waited for their targets to walk in. As each one arrived, they suddenly became royal blue from head to toe, except for their faces which were bright pink and developed an interesting texture, rather like coarse sandpaper. The prank necessitated absolute accuracy in spell casting, as they had to be sure not to miss their targets, but Lily and Charlotte were both fairly precise and managed to carry it off without mishap.

The victims, on the other hand, were less than impressed, especially as none of them could seem to work out how to reverse the spells. Even Greta, who was best in our year at Charms, couldn’t figure out how to do it. In the end they were all sent to the hospital wing for Madam Pomfrey to weave her magic and get them back to normal.

“Oh, that was brilliant,” Martha giggled as Lily and Charlotte eventually joined us at the Gryffindor table. “Did you see their faces? Magnificent.”

“Well cast, too,” I added with admiration. “I could never have hit them from that distance.”

Lily just smiled and shook her head a little. “Course you could have,” she said, going a little pink. “You’ve got great aim, Laura. But yes, it was a good shot, wasn’t it?”

“An’ they had nae idea where it came from,” Mary added, smiling. “Ye could see them lookin’ aroond everywhere fer who micht hae done it, an’ they couldna work it oot. Ye did well.”

“How long do you think they’ll be in the hospital wing?” Martha asked, her eyes sparkling. “Any chance it’ll be all day, do you think?”

Lily shook her head. “I doubt it. They might miss a couple of classes, but even Madam Pomfrey probably won’t keep them too long. Can you imagine having that lot all locked up in there for any length of time? She’ll probably let them go just to be rid of them.”

“Nou there’s a poin’,” Mary giggled.

“You’re telling me,” Charlotte agreed. “Now, what’s for breakfast? I’m starving.”

Even Sirius seemed to appreciate the prank on his admirers, though he appeared none the wiser as to who was responsible. As always, Lily got away with everything, and not even Dumbledore seemed to realise she had been involved – or, if he did realise, she and Charlotte escaped a detention for it. Not that anyone (aside from Dione) resented her for her ingenuity in escaping punishments (though occasionally she was caught), more we appreciated her talent for it.

Martha, of course, now had to look around for another date for the upcoming ball. Fortunately for her she was Martha Hornby, belle of Hogwarts, and there wasn’t a lack of potential suitors. Finally, with less than a week to go, she chose Nestor Hopkirk, a sixth-year Ravenclaw boy who, according to rumour, ditched his original date once Martha agreed. Tall, strong, blonde and handsome, Nestor was one of the few boys at Hogwarts who could give James and Sirius a run for their money.

Sirius, it appeared, wasn’t terribly fussed at being replaced by Nestor. He also found a date quickly, settling on Fortuna Robins, a fourth-year Gryffindor who was Peter’s cousin and therefore a safe option. No one expected them to spend much time together at the ball, but for the sake of appearances it was considered important to at least arrive with a date, even if you didn’t do much else with them.

****

On Saturday night the week before the Yule Ball, Professor Slughorn held a Christmas party for his favourite students. These parties were well known for being sumptuous affairs involving copious amounts of food and drink, as well as having guests from earlier generations of the Slug Club making an appearance. These guests had in previous years included Bertie Bott (from Every Flavour Beans fame), Quidditch player Karl Broadmoor and breeder of winged horses Laurentia Fletwock. Even trash journalist Rita Skeeter once got an invitation, according to Lily, though why she would have even been in the Slug Club in the first place was beyond me.

Lily and Charlotte got back to the dorm well past midnight but we were still awake, waiting for their report on the party. While generally we had little interest in Slughorn’s gatherings the Christmas party was an exception, most probably due to the guests and also the season which made people get a little more excitable than usual. This year the guests included Cornelius Fudge, who was making quite a name for himself in the Ministry and was touted by some as a possible future Minister, Hamish MacFarlan, who used to play Quidditch for the Montrose Magpies and was now also in the Ministry, and well-known nutcase Hambledon Quince, who had publicly spouted a theory that wizards come from Mars and Muggles from mushrooms.

“It was hilarious,” Lily said with a giggle, which I suspected was due more to the drink that was rumoured to flow freely at these parties than anything else. “Fudge was holding court in the middle of the room, raving on and on about whatever had his goat up –”

“It was the anti-troll campaign that Artemius Lawson keeps trying to set up,” Charlotte interrupted. “You know, the sort of thing that’s so important that the Ministry has to concentrate on that rather than, well, I don’t know, catching You-Know-Who?” She rolled her eyes in a bit of an exaggerated way.

“Yes, that was it,” Lily said, giggling again. “Well, he was droning on and on, so much that even Slughorn was getting bored by it, but then his robes kept changing colour on him. Every five or ten seconds, just a subtle change, but they went from blue to pink without him noticing!”

“James and Sirius, of course,” Charlotte explained, hiccoughing a little. “Bored witless, as you’d expect, so they were practicing their Colour Change Charms. By the time Fudge noticed he was wearing fairy pink. And the boys were rolling around on the floor laughing while Fudge went the same colour as his robes. It was a scream.”

“But then Hamish MacFarlan arrived, so that was the last we saw of James and Sirius,” Lily went on a little scornfully.

Charlotte nodded, taking up the narrative. She was far more interested in Quidditch than Lily was anyway. “Yep, MacFarlane had a group in the corner and started telling us exactly how the Magpies had won so many championships while he was Captain. You know, bending the rules and, well, cheating – all those things that we’d thought they were doing but couldn’t prove.”

“And he actually admitted to it?” I asked, spellbound.

“That surprised me, too,” Charlotte admitted. “But I think it had a lot to do with the Firewhisky on offer – the more he drank, the more he told us. I almost wish I’d taken a quill so I could have taken notes, Dad would love to know some of that stuff.”

“Good thing Rita Skeeter wasn’t there this year, then, wasn’t it?” Martha said archly.

Charlotte nodded. “Well, if she was, I doubt he would have been nearly so talkative,” she said. “It certainly was interesting, though.”

“This was the best bit, though,” Lily said, starting to laugh again. “Hambledon Quince. I think he was getting annoyed that people weren’t paying him enough attention, so he cast Sonorus on himself …” She trailed off, laughing so hard she was having trouble talking. Eventually she recovered enough to go on. “Yes, so he made his voice loud and then announced to the whole party that centaurs were the result of a breeding program of Abraxans and Doxys gone haywire!”

This was very definitely the funniest thing we’d heard all night, and it took a while for the giggles to subside. “No wonder you’re so drunk,” Martha said after a while. “I’d be drinking, too, if I had to sit through speeches like that.”

Lily giggled again. “Clarrie had to walk us back to the common room,” she admitted. “We were having trouble getting our feet to go the right way.”

“Clarrie?” Martha asked, frowning. “Why him? I would have thought you’d have had plenty of other offers.”

“We chose Clarrie,” Charlotte said pointedly. “I thought that my brother would be a better chaperone than anyone else there.”

“Not even James?” Martha asked, smiling wickedly. She was always trying to get Lily to admit that she fancied him, a bit of a lost cause in my opinion.

“Hamish MacFarlan,” Lily explained, rolling her eyes. “We couldn’t have dragged James away from him if we’d tried.”

“Of course,” said Martha. “Well, how about Snivellus?” Of course, I thought, he was in the Slug Club too, probably due to his skill at Potions.

Lily glared at her. “Severus, you mean,” she snapped – she hated it when her friends used Snape’s nickname. “Good point. Charlotte, why didn’t Sev walk us back upstairs?”

“He was talking to Hambledon Quince,” Charlotte said. “I didn’t see any reason to interrupt, not when Clarrie was available.” Or, I thought, you didn’t see any reason to rescue someone you can’t stand from a torturous conversation with a nutter.

Fortunately the party was on a Saturday night, so Lily and Charlotte had Sunday to recover. Mary and I helped Martha look for some Sobering Solution when we went downstairs at breakfast time in an attempt to help them get over their evening, but we weren’t able to find any and didn’t know how to get into the kitchens to ask for some. And Slughorn, who was often quite happy to dole it out, wasn’t at breakfast either, most probably also feeling the effects of the night before. So unfortunately Lily and Charlotte had to deal with their aching heads in the traditional Muggle way, and there was nothing we could do to help them aside from staying out of the dorm and keeping the curtains closed.

By Sunday afternoon both girls were their usual selves again, both swearing off alcohol for life, or at least until they were required to get through another of Slughorn’s Christmas parties. Even this close to Christmas there was still a tidy bit of homework to get done, and after lunch Mary and I spied them in the library, looking a little tired but otherwise determined to finish their Charms essays. By supper they even had their appetites back and were at the Gryffindor table with Martha, joking away as they usually were and entertaining everyone within earshot of the various theories of Hambledon Quince. The party, it seemed, would live on as a key part of Hogwarts folklore.
________________________________________


Author's note: Yes, I know, the Yule Ball. It's my only departure from canon for this story (or at least, the only one I'm aware of). And my reasoning? Well, from the way it was discussed in GoF it sounded like it wasn't the first time it had been held, so I just extrapolated that to say that 20 years earlier it had been a regular occurrence. Maybe something happened later that stopped this practice, I'm not sure. Anyway, as far as I'm aware canon doesn't specifically EXCLUDE it, and I just couldn't get Slughorn's Christmas party to fit my storyline the same way. By all means argue against me, but that's why I did it.
5
On Monday morning we trundled downstairs after breakfast for double Potions, wondering how Slughorn had recovered from his little gathering that weekend. This lesson was usually a bit of a trial even without a hung-over teacher, not only because Professor Slughorn thought that we ought to be able to achieve three times as much in a double class, but also because the fact that Snape was accompanying Lily to the upcoming ball meant that James was always looking for an opportunity to jinx him.

Slughorn’s main concession to the aftermath of his party was that he looked even more than usual like he had been indulging in some of the finer things in life. His walrus moustache was rather droopy and his nose even redder than usual as he welcomed us into the classroom. As usual, Severus and Lily took their table at the front of the class and started setting up their cauldrons. Snape kept looking over his shoulder at the table James, Sirius, Remus and Peter were occupying at the back, his wand out and a nasty look on his face. Mary and I, noticing this, looked at each other and agreed it was only a matter of time before one of them grew bat wings or something similar.

Slughorn, true to form, noticed none of this, or if he did he ignored it as the main perpetrators were all members of his Slug Club. “Today,” he was saying, “we are going to be making a Befuddlement Draught. Who can tell me the uses for this potion?”

As usual, Lily’s and Snape’s hands both went up, and Lily ended up reciting the potion’s properties and applications. Upon opening my textbook, I groaned out loud – this had to be one of the most complicated potions I’d ever attempted, and that included the Draught of Peace at the start of the term. However, there was nothing to it but to do it, and Mary and I joined the queue of students to collect our ingredients from the students’ store cupboard and set to work.

“Look a’ tha’,” Mary said about halfway through the class. “Looks lik’ th’ lads hae bin at it again.”

I looked in the direction she was indicating to see that Severus Snape’s nose, already rather large, was steadily increasing in size. I stifled a giggle.

“Wonder how long that’s been going on for,” I said quietly. “It’s almost a foot long, surely Slughorn’s noticed?”

“Especially since he’s i’ th’ Slug Club an’ all,” Mary agreed. “I’m surprised he hasna said anythin’.” In any case Snape was very obviously incensed, as was Lily, but James and Sirius appeared to be enjoying themselves immensely.

At that point Professor Slughorn, so often oblivious to what went on in his classes, finally looked up from Maggie Flint’s potion and noticed what had happened. Being the Potions master, he immediately thought that Severus had been hit with some Swelling Solution rather than the Engorgement Charm it patently was. This resulted in him rushing around trying to concoct a Deflating Draught when all he had to do was get out his wand and say “Reducio”, which in turn meant Snape was getting more and more irate. To his obvious chagrin, his fellow Slytherins were laughing at him rather than taking his side or helping him out, an indication perhaps that he wasn’t as popular as he had tried to make Lily believe.

Fortunately for Snape, Lily had her wits about her and, pulling out her wand with surprising speed, cast the counter-charm fairly quickly.

“Thank you, Lily,” Professor Slughorn said with obvious relief, watching Severus’ nose quickly return to its usual size. “I think, though, Severus, that you should still go to the hospital wing. Just to make sure, you know, that there wasn’t anything else.”

Lily smiled at him and then very quickly turned around to look angrily in James’ general direction. James, for his part, gave her what I was sure he thought was his most winning expression, though it disappeared rather quickly under Lily’s hostile glare. However, never one to give up, he recomposed himself with considerable speed and was soon running his hand through his hair again, trying to make it look the way he wanted.

“Come now, Severus,” Slughorn was saying to Snape. “Pack up your cauldron and go and see Madam Pomfrey. You’re excused from the rest of this class.”

I turned to look at Snape, who had an expression of abject fury on his face as he made his way out of the classroom. If I was James, I thought, I would have certainly been on my guard, a feeling that was validated a second later when I saw Severus whip out his wand and send a hex at his rival.

“Ye’re kiddin’,” Mary muttered, a look of horror on her face as she watched the hex’s effect on James. He had obviously been hit with a Stinging Jinx, and because his attention had been on Lily he hadn’t been able to react in time. In a matter of seconds his face had swollen up to be unrecognisable.

I looked around at Lily, wondering what she thought of her friend doling out hexes like that, even if it was at James Potter, but she looked more confused than anything. “You know, I don’t think Lily even realises Snivellus sent that jinx,” I commented.

“Aye, his timing wa’ verra good,” she said. “They were busy concentratin’ on each ither so he took his chance.”

“I wish it didn’t have to always be in class like this, though,” I said. “These potions are hard enough to get right even without them trying to curse each other into oblivion every lesson.”

“Aye, nae arguments there,” she agreed, groaning dramatically.

Behind us, James’ new look was causing delight among the Slytherins and general horror among his friends and admirers. Those of us who were neither just found the whole thing somewhat amusing. Sirius and Remus bundled him out of the dungeon like a shot and took him either to the hospital wing or somewhere safe where they could reverse the damage – which it was wasn’t clear from their garbled message to Professor Slughorn.

In any case, the end result was that neither James, Sirius, Remus nor Severus were with us for the remainder of the lesson. Lily appeared to enjoy the peace and quiet immensely and we all managed to get through the class with minimal disruption, a most unusual occurrence when you shared a class with those four. Mary and I were both rather pleased with our attempts at Befuddlement Draughts that we handed up to Slughorn at the end of the class, and I thought that if left to my own devices without too much interruption I may even get a decent mark in my OWLs.

****

The last school day before the Christmas holidays and the day before the Yule Ball was soon upon us, and no one was paying much attention to classwork. In our Astronomy theory lesson our checking of star charts was rather predictably disrupted by the boys, as usual making fun of the Canis Major constellation, to such an extent that Professor Dobbs threatened to call in Professor McGonagall to control them.

Herbology wasn’t much better. The lunch period had been interrupted by Peeves the poltergeist, who seemed to think that an avalanche of Dungbombs was just what everyone wanted in their food, so we were hungry and very smelly by the time we headed towards the greenhouses for the afternoon lesson.

“Wha’ dae ye think?” Mary asked as we left the Great Hall, covered like everyone else in the foul-smelling things. “Quick shower afore Herbology t’ wash it off?”

“I don’t know,” I said, trying to get a Dungbomb-inspired knot out of my hair. “Sprout will probably have us working with manure or something, it’s probably not worth it.”

“Aye, ye’re richt,” she conceded. “There wa’ a full moon las’ week, wasna there? So she’s prob’ly go’ some mooncalf dung fer us t’ spread aboot.”

And, as it turned out, we were right in that assumption. Professor Sprout had indeed obtained a fresh supply of mooncalf dung collected at that last full moon, so we spent much of the lesson carefully fertilising the Abyssinian Shrivelfigs and Fanged Geraniums, being extra careful with the latter to avoid being bitten.

Needless to say, after Herbology finished there was a general rush upstairs to the dorms so everyone could have a shower before heading back down to supper. I hadn’t had to wait that long to use the bathroom in any time in my schooling before, at least not that I could remember. Fortunately we were all in the same boat so could laugh about it in the dorm while we waited.

Finally it was all over, and we could finally relax now that the first term of OWLs had finished. All we had left before going home for the holidays was the Yule Ball the following night and most of the teachers, recognising it was Christmas, hadn’t even set much holiday homework. While the sensible part of me knew that I should be spending my spare time before the ball getting what homework finished that I could, the more realistic part decided that collapsing on a couch in the common room in front of the fire, book in hand, was a much more desirable option. Either that or hexing various Slytherins who got in my way, as Scylla Pritchard noticed when she tried to jinx me on my way out of the Great Hall after lunch on the Saturday and ended up with a cat’s tail and whiskers for her trouble.

Once lunch was over and Scylla had been safely dispatched to the hospital wing, Mary and I wandered outside and made some snow angels on the lawn near the lake, pausing only to dry ourselves off with hot air charms and throw occasional snowballs at passing students and also at the Whomping Willow, which was more of a challenge as if your aim was good enough it would hit them back.

The Willow, on the lawns halfway between the castle and the forbidden forest, had been at Hogwarts for at least as long as I had, and had the title of ‘whomping’ because its branches would swing around and attack anyone who got too close to it. We couldn’t help but feel this was a bit of a shame, because there was a hole at its base which rumour had was a tunnel that contained a monster of some sort. Where the tunnel led no one was sure, but some people theorised that you could get out of the school grounds through it so, if the monster thing wasn’t true, it was a bit intriguing. When we were younger we used to dare each other to see who could get close enough to the Willow to touch the trunk, but that ended when Davey Gudgeon from Hufflepuff nearly lost an eye and now no one was allowed within fifty feet of it.

In any case it made good sport, hurling snowballs at its branches and seeing where it would hit them, and Mary and I were thoroughly enjoying our afternoon. The cold air energised us and it was with flushed faces and wet gloves that we finally made it back inside some two or three hours later. We were on our way back to Gryffindor Tower to have a long bath and wash our hair when we were assailed by Lily, who had apparently been looking for us.

“There you are,” she said with a grin from ear to ear. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Why, what’s up?” I asked as she got in between us and hooked her arms into ours.

“The ball, dummy,” she said as she steered us towards the nearest staircase. “We wanted to all get ready together, and to do that we needed you.”

“Already?” asked Mary with obvious surprise. “Bu’ we’ve go’ hours ye’, it’s nae e’en four o’clock.”

Lily just grinned even more. “Well, yes, but there’s bubble baths and hair treatments and all sorts of things we can do,” she said, winking at me. “Don’t tell me you thought it was just a matter of having a quick shower and getting changed?”

“Not exactly,” I admitted, “but that wasn’t far from the mark.”

“You two are far too much of tomboys,” she said, shaking her head in mock exasperation. “We have so much to teach you about the good things about being a girl.” And she would brook no opposition as she frogmarched us into the common room and then to our dorm, where Martha and Charlotte were waiting.

****

Getting ready for the ball took the best part of three hours, as the five of us had long baths with lots of different smelling potions in them, experimented with different shades of eyeshadow and lipstick, and exchanged hairstyling tips. Mary and I weren’t used to being included with Lily, Martha and Charlotte like this, but as Lily had already indicated that night the importance of getting things right for the ball and making each other over far outweighed minor things like who you would normally talk to. In the end I thought our efforts were rewarded, and we all looked rather fetching.

Lily, as possibly the prettiest girl in our year, was wearing robes of brilliant autumn colours – rusty orange, deep yellow, that sort of thing – all mixed together in a kind of tie-dye rainbow effect, with a scoop neckline and half length wide sleeves. Matched with her stunning auburn hair she looked absolutely vibrant. She accessorised with some gold earrings Snape had given her as an early Christmas present, her own locket and a gold charm bracelet that was Martha’s. A dash of brown lipstick that I contributed completed the effect. I thought, and the others echoed, that we would be hard pressed to find anyone at the ball who looked better than she did.

Martha, the blonde-haired blue-eyed beauty that she was, wore pale yellow robes with an ivory trim and plunging v-neck. We left her hair down but tied an ivory scarf around it for effect, and with gold hoop earrings and a pendant that sat just inside the V, making it appear slightly more modest, she looked magnificent. Mary lent her a light pink lipstick and Lily found some matching eyeshadow which made the overall impression amazing. Then again, she had a tidy bit to work with in the first place – I felt almost as though I would have killed for hair or a figure like that.

Charlotte, our African queen, wasn’t one for pastels and had chosen robes of emerald green. There had been a long discussion as to whether she or Lily should wear them, since they were the same shade as Lily’s eyes, but after they both tried them on we all agreed they looked better on Charlotte, something to do with her extra height. We matched them with silver jewellery – earrings of mine, a bracelet of Mary’s and a chunky necklace that Martha had once been given but had never worn – and her hair was out of its usual braids and in a half-up-half-down hairstyle. Lily then muttered a spell which gave Charlotte’s glasses elegant silver frames of quite a different shape to what she normally wore. The overall effect was stunning and Cadmus, her date, was sure to be knocked off his feet.

Mary, with her dark hair, blue eyes and alabaster skin, was wearing pale grey robes that sat just off her shoulders, and opted to go with the smoky dark eyes effect with her makeup. Charlotte found a bold silver and onyx pendant in her bedside cabinet that really made a statement, and Mary had a silver bangle that her dad had given her before he died. We put her hair in a thick braid, leaving it to curl a bit at the bottom, and some dangly silver earrings completed the effect. She wasn’t quite the equal of Lily, Martha or Charlotte, but she certainly came up a treat and looked better than I had ever seen Mary looking.

My parents had given me the dress robes Bea had worn two years previously, with some alterations made to make them something I might be seen dead in. Bea’s taste wasn’t much like mine, and she had worn vivid pink robes with balloon sleeves and a ribbon and bow around the waist. The pink I could deal with, but a Severing Charm got rid of the ribbon and bow, and a quick trip to Gladrags did the same for the balloon sleeves. The result, sleeveless pink robes in a rather simple cut, was good enough for me. After all, it wasn’t like I had anyone to impress, and I wasn’t bothered enough find new ones. (As Lily said, too much of a tomboy.)

Martha and Charlotte fiddled and fussed with my mousy brown hair but even they couldn’t do anything about the kink that persisted in staying there, and ended up pulling it all off my face in a French twist, leaving a couple of strands dangling around my ears. Martha found some silver earrings that complemented the look and Lily came to the party with a silver pendant that sat just inside the neckline of the robes, setting it off perfectly. With help from one of Mary’s lipsticks I looked almost presentable.

The five of us headed downstairs to the Entrance Hall together to meet our dates. Martha and Charlotte disappeared quickly and just as quickly reappeared on the arms of Nestor and Cadmus respectively before heading into the Great Hall. Lily found Snape also without difficulty and the two of them were already deep in conversation as they walked through the doors of the hall. Of course as a pairing they looked completely out of place, with the beautiful and elegant Lily easily outshining the dank, pale, long-nosed, greasy-haired Severus. However, it appeared he had made at least an attempt to dress up for the occasion: his dress robes, which were simple and black, looked a little shabby but were definitely clean, and his hair looked almost like it might have been washed.

“Ye know,” said Mary, watching them, “I thin’ tha’ micht be th’ firs’ time I’ve e’er seen him whe’ his clothes haven’t bin covered i’ potion stains.”

“And grease marks from that hair of his,” I added, thinking about it. “You may be right. He looks almost presentable. I mean, the robes are clearly second-hand, but from what Lily’s said they don’t have much gold so you can’t hold that against him.”

“Hae ye e’er seen him wear any colour ither than black, though?” Mary continued. “Compared wi’ Lily, he looks lik’ a vampire or summit.”

“Mary,” a voice interrupted us. “I’ve found you at last.” We turned around to see Gerry Stebbins and Hector Bole, our dates for the evening. Gerry, who was the one who had spoken, continued. “You look fantastic.” Mary smiled and took Gerry’s offered arm, and I took Hector’s, and the four of us made our way into the Great Hall.

We were happily ensconced at a nice out-of-the-way table and on the verge of ordering our meals when everything stopped suddenly and all heads spun to the doors of the hall, where James and Sirius had made their appearance. Fashionably late, they walked in as though they owned the place, and well they might have, the way they looked. Even the staff stopped what they were doing to watch.

I couldn’t think of anyone else who could have frozen the room like that. Even their dates, who were done up to the nines trying to look as glamorous as they could, couldn’t match them for impact. This was what happened when the two best looking boys in the school, bar none, decided to make an entrance.

James was wearing robes of a dark red, which set off his black hair. He looked unruffled and elegant, though his hair was still messy, and I suspected he preferred it that way. Veronica Smethley, a slender Hufflepuff girl with blonde curls who was his date for the evening, looked very nice in pale blue robes and her hair up in a French twist, but struggled in vain to seem to fit the part of James’ companion.

Sirius, if it was possible, looked even better, wearing simple black robes which were so elegantly cut that they had to have cost something roughly equivalent to Luxembourg’s national debt. He was with Fortuna Robins, a fourth-year who was also wearing simple and elegant robes, and with someone else she may have looked a million Galleons, but with Sirius she just looked plain. In a sense it was a real shame he and Martha had broken up, as she would at least have been able to give the boys a run for their money.

“Wow,” breathed Mary beside me. “They scrub up all richt, dinna they?” I nodded silently, unable to find my voice.

Next to me, Hector made a noise that sounded a bit like a growl. “Who do they think they are, swanning in half an hour late?” he said angrily. “Think they’re better than everyone else, do they?”

My voice came back at that remark. “Pretty much,” I said, trying to lighten his mood. The last thing I wanted was a date who was jealous of people whose paths would most probably never cross ours all evening. “Does it really matter?”

“Probably not,” he conceded, but he was still glowering.

“Imagine the impact if they were actually interested in the girls they’re with,” I mused to Mary. She nodded, acknowledging it was perfectly clear that they had absolutely no interest in their dates. If they had been paying them any attention at all, fussing over them or whatnot, I suspected even the most resolute of girls there would have been swooning, dying to swap places with them. Because Veronica and Fortuna were being ignored, however, the effect was somewhat diminished.

Mary started giggling, and I looked back to see why. “Poor lads,” she said, indicating Peter and Remus coming in behind their friends.

She was right. It was an anticlimax to see Remus and Peter with their dates. Remus, a nice enough looking boy, looked great in his navy dress robes, but he suffered in comparison with the other two. He was also rather pale, and I remembered he had been ill that week and wondered vaguely if he would make it through the evening. Peter, who was very plain at the best of times and had struggled to find a date shorter than himself, simply looked out of place, and was having trouble keeping up with everyone else. Even his companion looked slightly repulsed by him as she followed the others to a table.

Besides that distraction, the evening started well enough. The feast was lovely and Gerry and Hector paid Mary and me a lot of attention, so much so that we almost thought we had been their first choices as dates. After everyone had eaten the band started playing and we got up to dance. Hector was rather an awkward dancer, stepping on my toes several times, but it was a small price to pay for what was becoming a very pleasant evening.

After a couple of hours the butterbeer was flowing with ease, and Hector and Gerry found some Ravenclaw buddies and started chatting. Mary and I, eager for a catch-up, moved away and found a quieter spot by the wall where we could talk.

“How’s the date going?” I asked.

“He’s nice enough i’ his own way,” she said, “bu’ so dull! I’m startin’ t’ hope he loses interes’, I think I’ll die o’ boredom itherwise.”

“I don’t think that’ll happen somehow,” I said, looking over at the boys. Gerry was watching us and had a bit of a smile dancing across his lips as he surveyed Mary.

“I ken,” she said dryly, rolling her eyes. “I’m gettin’ th’ same vibes an’ all. Hoo aboot ye?”

I sighed. “Hector’s a nice bloke,” I said, “but it’s about the same as you. There’s no spark.” She nodded understandingly. “I just can’t imagine getting close enough to kiss him,” I went on. “Besides, he keeps stepping on my toes – I don’t think I’ll be able to walk properly for a week.”

Mary laughed. “A’ leas’ I dinna hae tha’ problem,” she said. “Gerry can actually dance – aye, I’m surprised too. Frankly, I’d though’ –” She stopped talking mid-sentence and stared at a spot above my right shoulder.

I spun around. Sirius Black was standing there, his hands deep in his pockets and a rather nervous expression on his face.

“Ah, Miss Cauldwell, I was, ah, wondering if you would, ah, allow me to have this dance?” he said in an amusing mixture of formality and awkwardness.

I was so surprised that he could probably have knocked me over if he’d breathed a bit harder. I recovered, however, and smiled, aware that next to me Mary was doing her very best fish impersonation, her mouth opening and closing silently. “Certainly, Mr Black, I would be honoured,” I said, imitating his formal manner.

As he led me away, I looked back at Mary and mouthed, “What the – ?” She shrugged, a confused expression on her face, until she caught my eye and dissolved into giggles. Scowling at her, I steadied myself, hoped my face wasn’t didn’t resemble a Quaffle too much, and walked onto the dance floor.
6
Sirius was a surprisingly good dancer, which was useful because I wasn’t. As he led me expertly around the room, I took a deep breath and looked up at him firmly.

“So, was it a bet or a dare?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, shiftily enough to tell me my guess had been right. When his eyes drifted to where James was sitting by the far wall, I grinned.

“Don’t play dumb. We both know that you’d never ask me to dance in a million years. Not with ninety-five percent of the girls here gagging for it, and, well, I’m not.” I was right about the ninety-five percent, or at least it felt like it. Death looks seemed to be emanating from all corners of the room, and I had a sneaking suspicion that I’d be lucky if I got out of this without being hexed by Elvira or someone like that. “Besides, Potter just gave you the thumbs up.”

He groaned. “Are we really that obvious? Okay, yes, it was a dare.” I grinned triumphantly, though part of me was slightly disappointed. It would have been nice to be asked because he actually wanted to dance with me. “I’m sorry,” he continued, putting on the ‘ashamed’ look that he used for teachers when caught breaking the rules. “Do you hate me for it?”

I considered that. “Not really. At least this way it’s clear where we stand. I’m guessing you’d prefer I didn’t join that fan club of yours as a result of this – which for all you know I would have done if I’d thought it was genuine.”

He looked surprised. “You wouldn’t do that!”

“How do you know?” I countered. “We don’t know each other well enough for you to say that with any certainty.”

He paused. “I guess not,” he said eventually. “Would you?”

“No, I don’t think so,” I admitted. We danced in silence for a while.

“Anyway,” I said a bit later, “why would Potter pick me for your dare?”

He looked a little uncomfortable. “Do I have to answer that?”

“No,” I conceded. “I was just curious.”

“It killed that cat, you know,” he said airily. I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, okay,” he said. “I feel pretty bad about this now anyway. It was something about the most unlikely …” He trailed off, looking suitably ashamed. Not just the ‘ashamed’ look, but actually ashamed. I hadn’t realised he could do that.

Once I got over this mild distraction, I thought about what he’d said. Was I really the last person he’d ever willingly dance with? “But surely he could have come up with a better candidate,” I said. “I’m sure Scylla Pritchard would be dying to dance with you.”

He made a face. “No Slytherins. It’s an unwritten rule. James has at least some honour.”

Well, with the Slytherins ruled out, I knew why it was me. Beatrice. Anyone related to her would definitely be in the least likely list. And speaking of her …

“Oh, for goodness sake,” I muttered in frustration, looking over Sirius’ shoulder. “Sirius, would James count your dare as being done if I ditch you before the song’s over?” Oops. I’d used their first names. We never addressed the boys by their first names, except possibly Remus. This had to count as a slip-up of some sort.

He ignored the slip-up and considered my question. “I’d say so, I asked and you agreed to it and followed through. Why?”

“Because it looks like I’ve got a fire or two to put out,” I said, pointing.

He looked around. Beatrice, who had been dancing with Otto Bagman from Hufflepuff, had obviously got upset about something and was in the beginnings of a tantrum, turning Otto’s dress robes inch by inch into pink crepe paper.

“Yes, you’d better go,” Sirius said, letting go of me. I started to move towards Bea. “Oh, and Laura?”

I paused and looked over my shoulder at him, mildly surprised that he actually knew my first name.

“Thanks for being such a good sport about this.”

I smiled briefly and headed over to where my sister was making a spectacle of herself, in a futile attempt to put a hold on her reputation before it got any worse. One of the teachers had already started reversing the charm when I got there, so I bundled Bea out of the room as quickly and quietly as possible.

“Bea, you know better than that. What did you bring your wand to the ball for anyway?” I asked as we headed towards Ravenclaw Tower.

She pouted stubbornly. “He insulted me. Said I was a freak and should just get out of school so everyone else can have a good time.”

“While he was dancing with you?” I asked incredulously. “Why’d he ask you to dance if he was going to say things like that to you?”

She hiccoughed uncomfortably. “I don’t even know any more. I just – just – I didn’t know what to say, I was really hurt, so I wanted to hurt him. And I knew he was vain, so the pink paper seemed like a good idea …”

I grinned despite myself. “Bea, Bea, what are we going to do with you? How many times have I told you, just ignore them. Walk away, count backwards from twenty, whatever works for you, but don’t respond. They’re not worth it. You know they only say things like that to get a rise out of you. If you don’t react, they’ll stop doing it.”

“I know, I know,” Beatrice moaned. “Stop giving me lectures. I’m older than you, ergo, I should be right and you should be wrong.” She smiled at her twisted logic, then paused at the entry to Ravenclaw Tower. “Will you come in with me? I need someone to help me calm down …”

“Of course,” I nodded, as she gave the correct answer to the eagle-shaped doorknocker’s question. When she was ready for bed, I just sat with her in the dorm, holding her hand till she drifted off to sleep.

When I got back to Gryffindor Tower, the ball was obviously over as the common room was packed with revellers who were not yet ready to go to bed, and several second- and third-years who wanted to know any new and interesting gossip. Mary beckoned at me furiously from her table.

“Wha’ happened?” she demanded, grinning.

“Took Bea to bed. She got a bit riled up. Did you see what she –”

“Nae tha’,” she interrupted, looking over my shoulder to make sure no one could hear us. “SIRIUS! Why did he dance wi’ ye? What’s goin’ on tha’ I dinna ken aboot?”

“Oh, that,” I said. I’d forgotten all about it. “Nothing. James dared him to ask me.”

Her face fell. “Ye’re joking! An’ he tol’ ye tha’?”

“I beat it out of him,” I said. “To his credit, he did seem a bit embarrassed about it. Who knew that Sirius Black had a conscience?” I said it lightly, wanting to drop the subject, but Mary persisted.

“Hoo dae ye feel aboot it, though?” she asked, clearly hoping I wasn’t too cut up that the only reason someone like Sirius Black would ever dance with me was on a dare.

“Not great,” I acknowledged finally. “I think I was a bit disappointed when he admitted it. But I’d rather know,” I continued, “rather than sitting here with you coming up with all sorts of conjectures and maybe getting my hopes up.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Dae I detec’ a wee crush on Sirius Black, Laura?”

I thought about that. “I don’t think so,” I said. “He’s nice to look at but he’s a bit too much of a jerk. Besides, to get a crush on someone, don’t you need to be able to imagine getting together with them?” I paused. “I can’t imagine myself with him. We’re from different worlds. He’s destined for someone like Martha or Charlotte. Or Lily, but I think James would kill him.” I paused, thinking about it. “At least, though, now I can tell my grandchildren that I danced with Sirius Black.” I giggled. “And then ditched him halfway through!”

“Nou there’s a poin’,” said Mary, grinning. “Ye’re prob’ly richt. A shame, though,” she continued, looking over my shoulder at where the boys were entertaining the crowd, still in their dress robes. “They are verra goo’ looking …”

****

The following morning, suitcases in tow, Mary and I rather surprisingly found ourselves joined by Martha and Charlotte in the horseless carriage due to take us to Hogsmeade station.

“Not with Lily?” I asked, looking at them.

“Nah, she’s had a better offer,” said Martha with a grin. “You wouldn’t have seen this ’cause you’d taken off already with your sister, Laura, but last night she got together with Lance Savage from sixth year. He chatted her up while they were at the bar waiting to be served. Poor old Snivellus was livid.”

“Yeah,” agreed Charlotte, grinning from ear to ear. “We reckon he’d thought it was an actual date. She’d never even considered that.”

“She wouldna hae,” Mary agreed. “She’s i’ a state o’ constan’ denial o’er wha’ he thinks o’ her. Why aren’t ye wi’ Nestor?” This was aimed at Martha, who smiled briefly.

“He’s staying at school over Christmas,” she said. “We might see each other after the holidays. Or we might not. It was left up in the air a bit.”

“Does that mean that you’ll hook up if neither of you get a better offer in the meantime?” I asked with a smile.

“Pretty much,” she agreed, grinning. “Why aren’t you with Gerry, Mary?”

Mary groaned. “It wa’ a wee struggle t’ ge’ rid o’ him this morn an’ all,” she admitted. “He seems a lo’ keener on me than I am on him.”

Charlotte laughed. “Isn’t that always the way?” she said with a grin, and I had the feeling she was thinking of Remus.

“And Laura,” said Martha with a bit of a glint in her eyes, “what’s with you and Sirius?”

“What, that dance thing last night?” I asked. “James dared him to do it, that’s all. Nothing to it.”

She nodded, still smiling. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I thought it might have been something like that. He’s never spoken two words to you before.”

“I was surprised he knew my name,” I agreed, nodding. “First name and everything. It was a bit of a shock.”

It appeared that my little dance with Sirius was a big source of gossip, not least because I’d appeared to storm off in the middle of it and left him in the lurch. People seemed to think there was a lot more to it than there actually was, which was demonstrated shortly afterwards when Elvira Vablatsky came through the train looking for me.

“Laura,” she began, walking brazenly into the compartment that the four of us had settled in and sitting down without introduction, “why was Sirius dancing with you last night?” She ignored Mary, Charlotte and Martha, obviously thinking they couldn’t be of any use to her. A couple of other members of the fan club were hovering just outside the door, possibly to offer support and possibly just to try to listen in.

I looked at Mary, thinking I should have known that Elvira wasn’t going to let something like that slide. “He asked me to,” I said, not sure just how much of the conversation I wanted to tell her.

“He asked you?” she repeated, her eyebrows going further and further up her forehead. “You? I don’t believe it.”

“Well dinna, then,” Mary said shortly. “Bu’ I was there, I hear’ him ask. He called her by name an’ everythin’.” She gave me a quick wink and we both tried to ignore Martha and Charlotte, who were trying rather blatantly not to laugh.

Elvira was gaping. “It’s not fair, you being in Gryffindor,” she pouted. “He doesn’t even know my name.”

I was sure he did, since he spent so much time trying to get away from her, but I wasn’t about to say that. “I can’t help where the Sorting Hat put me,” I pointed out instead.

“But why did he ask you?” she went on, getting noticeably worked up. “Is there something going on between you? Why didn’t you tell me?”

I suppressed a giggle and steadfastly refused to look anyone in the eye. Even if there had been something going on between me and Sirius, preposterous as that idea was, Elvira was the last person I would have told. We got along reasonably well on a general basis, but this whole Sirius Black thing she had going was simply ridiculous and I wasn’t about to encourage it. In the end, however, thinking that I’d rather not go through what Martha had suffered at the hands of Elvira and the rest of the fan club, I decided to tell all.

“There’s nothing going on,” I said. “If you must know, he danced with me because he was dared to.”

Elvira stopped hyperventilating. “It was a dare?”

“Of course it was a bloody dare, why else would he ask me?” I shot back.

She looked visibly relieved. “Oh, thank Merlin, I was thinking he’d gotten a new girlfriend or something. At least he’s still single. More chance for me then!”

Mary was looking at her, eyebrows raised. “Hae ye bin pesterin’ Fortuna Robins aboot this as well?” she asked icily.

“Just a bit, before the ball,” she admitted. “But it was pretty obvious last night that it wasn’t a real date so we weren’t that worried.”

I started laughing. “Who did you go with last night, Elvira? Davey Gudgeon, wasn’t it? How did he like you fawning over another boy all night?”

She had the grace to look a little embarrassed . “I don’t think he was all that worried,” she said. “He was too busy drooling over Lily Evans. As most of the boys were. I think he was a bit peeved when Lance Savage got lucky with her, actually. But I was trying not to be too obvious, just in case he did get upset.”

Martha, Charlotte, Mary and I exchanged a grin at the thought of what Elvira would consider ‘not too obvious’. My guess was that it would include following someone around all night but would not include going so far as to deliberately spill a drink on their date, but I wasn’t about to say that out loud.

Anyway, I suspected Elvira was getting the (correct) impression that we wanted her to leave. I for one had no intention of spending the entire seven hour train journey back to London talking about Sirius Black, which is what would have happened if she’d stayed in our compartment. In any case she got up as abruptly as she had sat down and made her way to the door.

“Well, if there’s nothing to hear, I’ll be off,” she said airily as she stepped into the corridor, joining the other girls from the fan club who were still hovering outside our door. “See ya!” And she waved to us as she wandered back down the train, probably looking for Sirius so she could start bothering him.

The four of us just looked at each other and laughed. “She is the living end,” said Martha, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Seriously, she’s in Ravenclaw. How can someone so smart be so dumb??”

“I don’t envy you, Martha,” Charlotte giggled. “Having to put up with that tosh all the time. No wonder you dumped him.”

Martha snorted. “That was an easy one,” she said. “No wands out or anything. I was expecting you to at least be glowing purple by now, Laura.”

I shrugged. “I don’t think she exactly sees me as a threat. And for some reason she’s decided that I’m the one to give her personal information on him. Not that I can, considering I know diddly squat about him, but apparently being in Gryffindor makes me an instant expert.”

“Only because tha’s wha’ she’d be if she were i’ Gryffindor,” Mary pointed out with a giggle. “Ne’er one t’ waste an opportunity, tha’ one. Prob’ly canna understan’ why ye dinna see things th’ same way she does.”

“Did you see her though? Looked like she was going to have a heart attack before you let out it was a dare. Absolutely hysterical.” Martha was still laughing. “Laura, if anything like that ever happens again, make sure I’m around when Elvira confronts you and then string it out for as long as you can. I’d pay to watch that.”

“It’s a deal,” I agreed, smiling and putting out a hand for Martha to shake. “Because of course it’ll be happening weekly from now on, now we’ve broken the ice.” And I just about managed to keep a straight face when I said it.

Charlotte laughed. “Do you know, for a second there I almost thought you meant that!”

I giggled. “I’m getting better at it, aren’t I? Anyway, in all seriousness, I think I can pretty much guarantee that nothing like that will ever happen again.”

Martha smiled. “Probably not. But never say never. And if it does, make sure I’m there!”

****

My maternal grandparents were visiting when Bea and I got back home that evening. They’d been to the rugby the previous night and had wanted us to share their experience.

“If only that school of yours could have let you go a day early,” my grandfather enthused. “You would have loved it, Laura. We played Australia last night in Cardiff, and hammered them twenty-eight to three!”

I smiled as I sat down in the kitchen. “That would have been great,” I said, not even needing to fake my enthusiasm. “Who got all the tries?”

As they waxed lyrical about Wales’ performance the previous night and pointed my attention to the newspaper reports about the win, I tried not to get too jealous. I definitely felt they had the better end of the stick, as it would certainly have been better than being used as part of a dare at the Yule Ball. To tell the truth, I’d not particularly enjoyed the ball, and it was years since I’d been to a rugby international as they never seemed to coincide with school holidays.

Aside from that, the Christmas holidays passed pretty much without incident. It was great seeing my parents again but as usual they were preoccupied with Beatrice, who was taking her NEWTs and feeling the stress of it. Dad even went to Bobbin’s Apothecary for a Calming Draught after she lost her temper at the dog and streams of different coloured water started coming out of its nose.

As the quiet one, the one who didn’t cause trouble, I was left pretty much to myself. Not ignored, and there was certainly no malice in it, but Bea always took up a tidy bit of my parents’ attention, so I watched a bit of Doctor Who and some old movies on the television and busied myself in front of the fire with a good book or three. I had received a good collection for Christmas – Mary had given me a selection of Fifi LaFolle romances, and Mum a number of Muggle mystery novels – so I was well set for a bit of escapism. In summer I liked to spend a lot of my time outside but with the snow some four inches deep on the ground a bit of fireside reading sounded like a much better idea.

“You’re not going out much these holidays,” Mum said one day when she found me in the living room with my nose in a book. “Aren’t you going to catch up with Sarah and Mandy? Go shopping, or to the movies, or something?”

I shook my head. “I don’t really have that much in common with them any more,” I admitted. Sarah and Mandy had been my closest friends in primary school, but as they were Muggles and I spent so much of my time immersed in the magical world I found we had very little in common these days.

“That’s sad,” Mum said. “But what about those magazines and records I’ve been getting you? Don’t those help with that?”

“They help,” I said, “but they’re not enough. Their lives are just so different from mine now that I don’t know what to talk to them about. I mean, I’ve seen photos of the film stars they’ve got crushes on, but I haven’t seen the films so I can’t talk about those, and there’s no way known I could catch up with it all in the few weeks I’m back here each year.”

She nodded. “I was afraid this would happen,” she said, sitting down next to me on the couch. “I’ve been trying to keep you involved, but there’s only so much I can do, isn’t there?”

I nodded sadly. “Yeah, I think there is. So really, all I’ve got now is Mary. And Bea, but quite frankly I’m not always proud of that.”

“I wish you had more friends,” Mum said. “I feel like you’re missing out on something. I don’t really know what, but I wish that even those other girls in your dorm would talk to you more.”

I smiled. “Same as with Sarah and Mandy, though in a different way. Not much in common. And, well, I often have to spend a lot of time running around after Bea.”

“She can be difficult,” Mum admitted. “And you’re very different from each other. Well, I’m sorry that you’re losing touch, Sarah and Mandy were nice girls. But I can understand how it’s happened.” She sighed, leaning back against the cushions. “It just worries me, Laura. You’re going to get more and more involved with your father’s world, and I’m going to lose you. We’re eventually going to end up like you and Sarah and Mandy, aren’t we, and run out of things to talk about?”

I leaned over and gave her a hug. “I’m sure we’ll always be able to find something to talk about. Even if it’s just what Bea’s been up to lately.”

She laughed. “Well, yes, there is always that.” She turned to me suddenly. “She makes things hard for you, doesn’t she?”

You don’t know the half of it, I thought. I was humiliated at the school ball because of the simple fact that I was her sister. But Mum didn’t need to know that, it would only upset her, so in the end I just shrugged. “Well, there are some people at school who wouldn’t want to visit me here because she’s here too,” I said. “But they’re probably not worth worrying about anyway, not if they’re that shallow.”

It sounded good, I thought. It sounded nice and mature and exactly the sort of thing I should say, and I should think. The trouble was, it wasn’t entirely true. I wanted to be popular. I even wanted those people to like me, even if I didn’t like them all that much. After all, no one wants to be ignored. However, it just wasn’