Caiti walked into the great hall on Saturday to find all the house tables stacked against the walls. The stone floor had been covered in silver hoops, arranged in neat lines with several feet of open space behind each one. The sixth years were scheduled for their first apparation lesson and for once in her life, Caiti had arrived too early. This was something that, had she not been eternally late anyway, she would normally have tried to avoid. She hated having to spend the minutes waiting for something to begin standing around awkwardly.

More than ever, she felt uncomfortable when it was only her class around. Though she was certainly friendly enough with many of them, Caiti wasn't close with the other sixth years. Now that she was no longer dating Theo, her one go-to person was hardly an option and she was certainly not going to try to talk to Amelia and Miriam and the rest of their clique. She wished she could have taken apparation with the seventh years the previous year. She had been one of the first to turn seventeen after all, and had not started lessons until after her birthday, which seemed silly now she realized it.

She saw Theo laughing with a group of his friends a little ways over, people she had formerly known quite well, but now felt she was not allowed to talk to. Breaking up sucked. Having all your best friends in another year sucked. The fact that the first term of her sixth year was already nearing its halfway point, putting her ever-closer to the dreaded friendless seventh year... that definitely sucked.

Caiti sat down in the center of a hoop in the center of the room, thinking that, perhaps someone would take pity and talk to her. It looked very odd to see the great hall so empty and it felt all the emptier because she felt so out of place. She could not wait for the hour to be up so she could return to the common room and meet Marlowe. They were going to go get some work done in the library to escape Sean and Evelyn's drama. The two of them had stopped fighting, but were being unbearably polite to each other. The elephant in the room could not have been more massive.

Just for something to do, she pulled her hairband out of her hair and began combing her finger through the top, separating a bit of hair from the front so that she could begin to french braid. No one seemed bothered that she was sitting all by herself in the middle of the room, not talking to anyone. Not even the people she talked to regularly in classes.

Finally, the apparation teacher arrived, escorted by wispy, old Professor Munslow. Caiti hoisted herself up and folded her arms behind her back, clasping each hand at the elbow of the opposite arm.

She thought the teacher seemed far too large to be able to apparate at all. He was fairly short, but quite wide, with a stocky, muscular build. She wondered if this made him a good teacher, because perhaps he had had such a hard time apparating at first that he could now sympathize with those dunces who could not manage it. Caiti was sure she'd be spending a lot of one on one time with him, as one such dunce.

"Welcome," said the teacher in a loud and powerful voice, "to your first apparation lesson. My name is Mr. Barnaby. Over the next twelve weeks, we'll be practicing and preparing you for your tests this spring. Apparation is not learned in one day. I expect very little progress in the first weeks and you should not either, though that should not discourage you whatsoever. Please remember that except for special circumstances inside the great hall and only during these lesson times, there is no apparation in or out of Hogwarts and you would be very ill-advised to try." He paused here for effect. "Now, the first thing you need to do is memorize what we call 'the three d's.' They are destination, deliberation, and determination."

Mr. Barnaby paced back and forth while he talked, exactly three steps to the right and then three to the left each time, punching his right fist into the palm of his left hand whenever he emphasized a word. Caiti was not sure whether she felt exceptionally safe in his presence or if she was terrified of what might happen if she disappointed him.

Mr. Barnaby did not seem keen to talk long. Only five minutes into the lesson, he had them all positioned outside their hoops, repeating the three d's in their heads, and trying, for the first time to apparate. Caiti was not feeling sufficiently determined. She had absolutely no desire to find herself in the middle of this hoop, nor did she feel at all capable of doing so, now or ever. It was only when she glanced around and saw a few people trying to jump into their hoops when they thought no one was looking that she began to cheer up, remembering what Marlowe had told her. She felt a little less hopeless knowing that she at least wasn't resorting to that.

She spent the remainder of the hour standing firmly outside her hoop with her gaze fixed in the middle of it, willing herself to disappear and reappear two feet in front of her with absolutely no progress. She thought she would have had much more luck apparating if she had been told to go to the library, to Marlowe.

By the end of the lesson, nothing whatsoever had happened to anyone, although she could hear a lot of people telling anyone who would listen that they had felt a pull beneath their navel while others frantically denied to their cackling friends that they had tried to fake apparating by jumping into their hoop.

In the bustle to get to the door and enjoy the rest of the weekend, Caiti found herself stalled right next to Theo. "Oh, hey Caiti," he said, shoving his hands in the pockets of his robes.

"Hey," she said. Her lips quirked into a tiny, tiny smile. There was an awkward silence, but the line was barely moving and they were stuck next to each other so Caiti said, "How've you been?"

He shrugged. "Alright." He seemed fidgety and she got the feeling he had something on his mind that he wasn't sure if he should say. Theo had always been an open book. He couldn't hide anything. It was the reason it had been so easy to get together with him. It would have been impossible to doubt that he was interested in her.

"Your uh, your brother did a good job last weekend," he said.

She nodded. "Yeah, he did."

"Glad he got first place."

"Me too." It was excruciating, this small talk. Why was the line not moving faster? Not that it would have been much help - they were going to the same place, after all.

"So..." Whatever it was that she had sensed was coming, she could feel it. "There's that ball I guess. Should be interesting."

Caiti glanced at him, praying that this was not headed where she thought it was. Thankfully, they had made it out the door at last so it would be easier to slip away if necessary, pretend she was in a hurry or something. "Should be," she agreed.

"You thought much about it?"

She shook her head. "Not yet."

He ran a hand through his hair. She knew this was one of his nervous tics. He used to do it whenever he wanted to ask her something. He had done it before he asked her to go to Hogsmeade with him the first time, before he had kissed her, before he'd asked her to be his girlfriend, and then over and over again when she had been trying to explain why they had to break up.

He had been quiet too long. She glanced at him again. He looked like he was bursting to say something, but then he dropped his hand and shut his mouth and whatever it was didn't come out. Caiti thought this was probably lucky on her part, because if she had been right, if he had been thinking of asking her - as friends or not - she would have had to say no, and it would not have been enjoyable.

But she had thought too soon. Caiti had only just noticed that they were lagging behind the other Ravenclaws heading up to the tower when, courage regained, Theo spoke very quickly. "I was thinking about it a bit," he said. "And neither of us are... are with anyone else. And I thought you know, like.. we'd probably have fun together. So maybe we could just, you know, as friends.... go together or... or..." He stopped when he saw the look on Caiti's face: pity.

She hadn't been able to stop it, though she knew he would hate it. He'd think it condescending.

"Or not," he finished, scowling.

"Theo..." Caiti tried.

"No forget it, it was stupid," he said shortly. He started to speed up away from her and Caiti ran to catch up.

"Theo, I'm sorry!" she said. "I'm really sorry. I just... I don't think it's a good idea. For me, at least."

"Yeah," he said, "I get it." And this time, she knew it would be stupid to follow him. Here was his temper again. She had seen the flash in his eyes and the way his nose wrinkled.

Caiti stood alone in the middle of the corridor and threw her head back. The suits of armor along the wall turned their empty helmets towards her in curiosity. She could not believe he had tried asking her. Did he still want to get back together? He had seemed so over it before. And now, just when Caiti was finally starting to feel okay about the whole thing, he was trying to wriggle his way back in.

But she could not let him. She was happy. She was sure, at last, she had made the right decision.

---

"Alright, tell me what happened," Marlowe said fifteen minutes later as he and Caiti began their walk to the library. "Someone get splinched or something?" He had been able to tell immediately that something was bothering her, but she had not broached the subject herself.

She shook her head. "No it's not about apparation."

"Okay," he said. "Then what is it about?"

Caiti's forehead creased. "Theo asked me to go to the ball with him."

"Oh," said Marlowe, who had not been expecting this at all.

"I told him no, obviously," she continued, and Marlowe felt relief flood through him like he'd just taken a sip of Caiti's calming draft. "I just can't believe he would ask. He acted like I had no other options and he was doing me a favor."

Marlowe kept quiet, thinking hard. How many options did she think she had? He had not given the ball much thought, but discussing it made him realize that he had always assumed he and Caiti would be going together. What if she hadn't assumed the same thing? What if there was someone else she had in mind? He decided he would need to get on it fast and ask her himself before someone else could, someone else she would not say no too so easily.

But then a new fear crept into his mind. What if she said no to him, too? And she might, he thought. They were friends, best friends even. But how many times had she said no immediately when he asked for a kiss? He was always joking (mostly), but still. What if she said no to the ball just as easily? What if she thought that was a joke, too?

"But anyway," said Caiti. "He's stupid, so whatever."

Marlowe managed to laugh, but he could not fully hide that he was preoccupied. Luckily, Caiti was preoccupied too and didn't ask questions.

When they arrived in the library, they found their favorite table in the back left corner by a big, tall window. It was snowing for the first time and Marlowe looked out over the grounds and watched lazy white flakes collecting on the windowsill. There was not yet enough snow to cover the grass and bits of green poked out through the frost, but it was sticking. This was the first that it had really felt like Christmas was coming.

They sat down on opposite sides of the table and began pulling out their homework. Marlowe had a particularly nasty essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts which he had hoped to finish that day and Caiti had just pulled out her transfiguration book. She got to work right away, sitting with her legs hanging over the arm of her chair and her book on her lap. Marlowe thought it looked very uncomfortable.

He tried to get started on his essay, but he couldn't get the thought of Caiti going to the ball with someone else, anyone else, out of his head. He pulled the one unused chair over and sat facing sideways to the table with his feet on it so that he could write against his knees. He did not want Caiti to have the possibility of reading what he wrote upside down on the table, because he was not about to write his essay.

Instead, he began a letter to his mum. He had never talked to her about this sort of thing, about girls before, but he knew she would have good advice. Had he been going home for Christmas, he wouldn't have done it - she would have been unbearable, always asking him questions and trying to catch him off guard to get him to spill his feelings to her. But he also knew she would be thrilled to write him back the sort of detailed and useful response he needed. 

This was something she could understand, girl problems. It made no difference that she was a muggle. It had always bothered her that only Marlowe's dad could give him advice when it came to his lessons and his future job prospects, something which Marlowe had long felt guilty about despite not being able to change it. He didn't like her to feel useless or inadequate. She wasn't. She just had different expertise.

Hi Mum,

How are you? Sorry I won't be home for Christmas. Kinda sucks, but I think this ball thing will be fun. At least Elliot will still be able to go home because he's too young to go. He's been doing well in quidditch. I'm proud of him. Hopefully he'll make the team for real next year. I'm getting really nervous for the next game even though it's far away. Slytherin's got a good team and the scouts will be back. I know they're watching to see how I play more than whether or not we win, but as captain, I think it would speak well of me if I've got the whole team playing well and not just me. I'll keep you updated and stuff. It'd be cool if I got on a pro team because then you could come see me play and you've never been to a quidditch game I don't think. You'd like it.

My friend Sean won the first task of that tournament I told you about which was cool. Maybe Dad showed you the paper, I don't know. There was probably an article about it or something. That's why we're having this ball, to celebrate with the people from the other schools. I actually wanted to ask for your advice about that. You remember Sean's sister, Caiti? We've always been good friends and stuff, but she broke up with her boyfriend at the end of last year and we've been getting really close now that she's around us more. I really like her and I want to ask her to go with me, but I don't know how to do it. I'm scared she'll say no, because I think she only likes me as a friend. I thought maybe you'd have some ideas, since you're a girl and all. I don't know. It's not a big deal or anything, but I thought I'd ask.

See you at Easter maybe,

Love,

Marlowe

Marlowe folded up the letter and tucked it inside one of his books. He would take it up to the owlery later and send it. Maybe he could borrow Sean's owl. Caiti looked up at him. "You're already done?" she whispered.

He shook his head. "Haven't started yet. Had to write my mum and tell her why I can't come home for Christmas."

Caiti looked back down at her book. "How come I've never met your mum?" she asked.

"I don't know," said Marlowe. "Maybe soon. She'd like you."

---

"Sean, look at this," said Evelyn. They were sitting in the common room by the fireplace and Sean was trying to catch up on the work he had fallen so far behind on. Things between them were, slowly, starting to go back to normal.

She passed him the morning's copy of the daily prophet which she had received earlier that day at breakfast. Already, they had read through the article describing the results of the first task which had come out a few days late due to some big news at the ministry which he had not paid much attention too.

Now that the article was out, Sean knew it was only a matter of time before one of his parents sent a letter in fits about the Malaclaw incident which had, unfortunately, been described in detail. He had had to tell Evelyn the story already, bringing the total number of people who knew of the incident up to five, including himself. Caiti, he was relieved to note, had let it slide under the circumstances of the Amelia situation. But he was sure that, had things gone according to plan, she would have teased him something awful.

He looked at the story Evelyn was pointing at now. She was up to date with her homework and had been keeping him company by perusing the paper beyond the front page articles. He had a feeling she was looking for more stories related to the muggle-baiting incident of a few weeks previously. He hoped that this article, hidden deep within the pages and not accompanied by a photo, was unrelated.

MAJOR BREACH OF INTERNATIONAL STATUTE OF SECRECY

This past weekend, a group of no less than two dozen masked wizards worked their way into the center of a crowded concert put on by popular muggle singer-songwriter Owen Eoghans. Dressed in robes and masks like those of You-Know-Who's former followers, the death eaters, the wizards were already gaining a fair amount of attention, though they might have passed for some sort of cult if they had not, apparently following some sort of cue agreed upon prior to the start of the concert, disapparated all at once.

Muggles, as we know, will do almost anything to ignore that they have witnessed magic, which makes apparation a generally plausible transportation option in a crowd when it is only a single person and it is performed carefully. Not even the most unbelieving muggle, however, can ignore when suddenly a standing room only concert goes from completely packed to emptied out in the middle in a split second. Nor could they deny the exceptionally loud crack that resulted from so many disapparations at once.

The prophet discussed the incident with Andrea Malbeck, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry. "As you can imagine," says Malbeck, "it's been quite a job for the ministry to smooth things over. The group didn't apparate to any one location, which makes it much more difficult for us to track who the offending people were. The muggles who witnessed the event had to have their memories modified, including Eoghans and his band members, of course, but the damage goes beyond that. It took quite some time to track down all those people at the concert, and by that time, the muggles had told their families and friends... it was in the muggle papers before we could cover it all up. We'll be dealing with this for weeks."

We asked Malbeck what she thought of the masks. "It certainly has us on high alert across a number of departments. This is the second time we've got wind of a group of masked wizards, resembling death-eaters, involved in some sort of incident near muggles, and in a short time too. We can certainly be thankful that this incident was non-violent, but that does not make it any less frightening. The goal this time, it seems, was to make known to muggles that wizards are out there. Further events will become harder and harder to cover up. It's near impossible to find out who still knows about the incident. Word spreads so quickly."

The incident has no resolution in sight, but we are, as Malbeck says, grateful that the act was non-violent this time.

Sean handed the paper back to Evelyn in disbelief.

"Isn't that scary?" she said quietly.

"What's the point of doing something like that?" asked Sean. "I just don't get the appeal."

"It's like they think it's funny," she said. "It could drive someone crazy, things like that. If I'd been there just a couple of years ago, before I knew... well, I probably would've checked myself into a mental institution right away."

"It's not funny, though," said Sean. "It's stupid."

Evelyn tucked her knees up to her chest. "Makes me want to talk to Professor Mason again."

"Yeah, maybe," he agreed. They sat in silence for a few minutes, neither one going back to what they were doing. "Hey, that reminds me... Professor Mason was in the champions tent when I finished the first task for some reason, seemed like he was just hanging around with the nurse."

Evelyn smiled, which surprised him.

"He said something about them both being Ravenclaws, too," he added.

"I think they're friends," she said. "Earlier this term, when I went to get that pepperup potion when I had a cold, he was there talking to her when I came in."

"You sure they're just friends?" Sean asked grinning. "They're both young aren't they?"

Evelyn laughed. "Seemed like a friendly conversation. And anyway, didn't you see his face when I asked if he knew that auror they interviewed last time?"

Sean frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean he changed the subject pretty quick. Whoever that woman was was more to him than a coworker."

"Hmm. Guess I wasn't paying attention to that," said Sean. "Well anyway, I thought it was odd no one had ever asked about these two before. You know how gossip spreads."

"That," she said, "is a great question."

Sean tried to go back to his work, but now the task was on his mind. They had not really talked about it except a brief conversation as they'd walked back up to the castle before everything had happened, and he had just remembered something else.

"Hey wait, do you know anything about the letters R.W.W.?" he asked.

"No, why?" she said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Mr. Fenwick wears this pin... I've seen it twice now. And that's what it says. It stands for something."

Evelyn tipped her head to one side. The hair she had just tucked back fell out again. "It's not his quidditch team?"

"Definitely not, I'd've recognized the logo."

"Weird," she said. "Maybe it's a membership or something."

"Yeah, maybe," said Sean. They fell into silence again. He was not sure why he cared so much anyway.

Later that evening, as they packed up their things before they headed down to dinner, Evelyn asked, "Do you think these people are trying to expose magic to muggles for the same reason they did the last time?"

"What do you mean?" asked Sean. His brain was still wrapped around the Care of Magical Creatures essay he'd been working on.

"Do you think they want to rule the muggles?" Evelyn asked. He could quite not read her face. Her eyes looked fierce, rebellious, but her lips gave away her worry.

Sean could not answer her. "I don't know," he said honestly. "I hope not."