Renée wasn't ignoring Milo, he told Javier. She was just too busy to catch up with him.

     "You have three classes with her," Javier replied sourly. "She could say hello when you're walking into class."

     "She's got a lot on her mind."

     "So have we all? I mean, it's January and we're all getting older. I turn seventeen in a week, how crazy is that?" Javier pressed his fingers into the roots of his hair to fluff it up.

     "I've been seventeen since September, Javi," Milo snickered. "It's nothing special, trust me."

     "I'll trust you when you break up with Renée," Javier snapped in reply.

     "I'm not going to break up with her."

     Javier gave him a blank look. "You bought her a necklace with some precious gem in it for Christmas. She sent you her nan's unwanted knitting."

     "Hey, I like that scarf—"

     "You like every scarf, Courtney," Javier snorted. "That's not a compliment. Speaking of scarves, though, who bought you this one?" He tugged at the pale-blue end of the scarf. Milo snatched it from his herbology-dirty fingers.

     "It was a Christmas present."

     "Obviously, but from who?"

     Milo shrugged and buried his fingers in the warm folds of wool. "I— er—"

     "Merlin's balls, Milo," Javier gasped. "Remus?"

     "How the hell did you guess that—?"

     "Because you don't have family, none of us got it for you, and he's your only friend aside from us."

     "Thanks, Javi."

     "Oh, you know what I mean," Javier grumbled. "But you wouldn't be single for long if you left Renée now."

     "Who'd date me? I'm a murderer, remember."

     Javier shoved him. "Shut it, you're not a murderer. Lupin would go for you any day of the week."

     "No he wouldn't."

     "Yes he would."

     "I don't think he swings for boys, anyway."

     "Only because he doesn't know you swing for boys too."

     "He's never said anything. Why would I say anything back?"

     "Because everybody knows he's into boys. He shouldn't have to say anything."

     "Then why should I?"

     "So that he knows," Javier said. "You've never made it obvious. You don't go around shouting about your sexuality like Vince. And you've only ever had girlfriends."

     Milo scowled and crossed his arms. "I don't even fancy him, and I'm still going out with Renée."

     "For God's sake, Miles," Javier gasped angrily. "Do yourself a bloody tarot reading to show that you don't like Renée anymore, she doesn't like you, and you should move on to Lupin before somebody else snatches him up."

     "He wouldn't go out with me, even if I did like him," Milo replied. "I'm a foot shorter, a year younger, and not half as attractive as anybody else in this school."

     "You're actually only six months younger than him," Javier said smartly. "His birthday's in March and yours is in September."

     Milo scowled again. "Shut up, Vance."

     "I'll shut up when you date Lupin."

     Milo walked away.

     In the library, there was a small nook with two armchairs, a love seat, and a low table in front of a small fire. Milo had discovered it late in his first year and, bounded by two bookcases that obscured it to anybody who didn't know of it's existence, it became his place of solace.

     Now that place had been shown to Remus Lupin, and they were sitting on armchairs opposite each other with their feet on the table between them. Every now and then, one would kick the others foot and offer a smile. It wasn't a game and it wasn't a romantic thing. It was mostly to assure the other that they were still there, and not alone.

     When the sound of two bodies hitting a bookshelf travelled through to their secluded area, both looked at each other with a confused frown and stood up.

     Then Renée Röeder came around the corner.

     "Er— Renée?" Milo asked when she just stared down at him.

    "I was going to ask if you wanted to hang out," she said, her voice as icy as the window behind her. "But you're quite obviously preoccupied with Lupin, so I'll just go."

     "I can hang out," Milo answered, standing up so sharply that the tarot cards on his lap scattered on the floor around him in a perfect circle. "It doesn't matter."

     Renée rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips, two signs that her emotions were firecrackers. "No, Milo, it does. Everytime I come looking for you, you're hanging out with him. Just do me a favour and break up with me before you start on somebody else."

     "Renée, I've not started on somebody—"

     She pushed him backward when he stepped towards her. "Face it, Courtney. You're more into him than you've been into me in a while. Don't pretend you aren't. So since you can't toughen up enough to split up with me, I'm splitting up with you."

     "Renée, wait—"

     Her cloak billowed behind her as she stalked off. Milo stared after her with longing eyes.

     "Miles, are you—"

     "No, I'm not fucking okay," Milo said, spinning on his feet to face Remus. "My girlfriend just broke up with me and— and it's your fault. Go away."

     "Milo, I didn't mean to get between—"

     "Yes you did," he shouted, voice well above the near-silent rule of the library. "You did too, and you know you did."

     "I didn't do anything, Milo—"

     Milo didn't mean to be cold. He didn't mean to be horrible. And he certainly didn't mean to blame Remus for the end of his relationship, but he was a terribly flawed human being and he wanted to blame somebody for the end of his relationship. And Remus was just there. So he said, "You did it on purpose because you fancy me. It's disgusting. You're disgusting. I hope you're happy with yourself."

     He stormed off, leaving Remus alone with a scattered pile of tarot cards and an aching soul.