CANYON MOON ▇▇▇▇ VOLUME ONE
━━ ❛ 𝒔𝒍𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏'𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 ❜

chapter no. 003!

     UPON ARRIVAL AT THE GREAT HALL FOR LUNCH, NEITHER HARRY NOR RON HAD BARELY GOTTEN A THIRD OF THE WAY THROUGH THE ASSIGNMENT THE HEAD OF SLYTHERIN HAD GIVEN. Partially to blame was the fact that they spent their free period in the common room, attempting to scribble down at least one answer while simultaneously messing around with an Exploding Snap game. Of course, when they informed Hermione of their unsuccessful achievement of answering three out of thirty questions in ninety minutes, they left that particular portion of the story out.

     As lunch passed, most sixth-years had an after-lunch-free period. The Ravenclaws went out to the courtyard, as they usually did, to do their work, but Fawn stayed behind in the Great Hall. It was only one in the afternoon, but she was exhausted. Not physically but socially. The blonde had never talked this much in one day to people outside of the professors, to which she only talked when she was answering a question or being addressed.

     The Golden Trio watched from two tables over as the Ravenclaw finished her Defense Against the Dark Arts homework. Fawn had already completed everything for Ancient Runes. After this, she would only have her Arithmancy work left. Professor Vector rarely delivered much work, so filling out a timetable and reading two chapters was easily doable in twenty minutes.

     "Is there anything you would like to share with us?" Ron asked with a cheeky smirk dancing on his face, staring over at his best friend.

     "I dunno what you're talking about," Harry shrugged as he looked away from the blonde and back down at the daunting work that stared back at him.

     "You like her, don't you?" Hermione looked away from the Ravenclaw as Ron spoke, watching as their friend didn't look up from his paper.

     "What are you on about?" Harry questioned.

     "Fawn Depraysie. You fancy her." Ron stated confidently, and Hermione shifted uncomfortably on the bench.

     "No, I don't," Harry sighed, but the boy beside him didn't seem convinced.

     "Is that why you keep talking to her? Asking her to hang out with us?"

     "No."

     "You trust her an awful lot too."

     "Ron," Harry snapped, looking up from the parchment. "She was invited to Slughorn's lunch thing yesterday. I noticed that she doesn't talk to many people and doesn't seem to have any friends. I think she's really cool and nice. There aren't a lot of people like that around these days. I don't fancy her, so get that thought out of your head."

     The Gryffindor Prefect closed her book and felt the uneasy feeling in her stomach fade. "I mean, I wouldn't blame you if you do. She's honestly one of the hottest girls in our year— possibly, in the school too, I reckon. I remember hearing from Seamus that Malfoy tried to get with her fourth-year, but she turned him down," Ron said, glancing over at the blonde.

     "Malfoy?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow. "I thought he only dated Slytherins or purebloods."

     "Apparently, he didn't during fourth year," the redhead shrugged.

     Fawn, having no inclination that the three were talking about her, closed the book after she finished re-reading the first two chapters of New Theory of Numerology. Glancing down at her wristwatch, Fawn got her belongings together and exited the Great Hall.

     Afternoon Double Potions was a class that usually the blonde enjoyed quite thoroughly. Now, however, with Slughorn teaching it, she wasn't entirely sure how much she would enjoy this term's lessons.

     Once the Ravenclaw reached the long dungeon corridor, she noticed that only a dozen other students, including her, were progressing to NE.W.T. Level Potions. Three shadows joined her own, and she glanced over to see Harry beside her.

     "Harry," Ernie Macmillan said portentously, walking up and holding out his hand to Harry, "didn't get a chance to speak in Defense Against the Dark Arts this morning. Good lesson, I thought, but Shield Charms are old hat, of course, for us old D.A. lags... And how are you, Ron— Hermione?" Macmillan ignored the blonde's presence, and the three Gryffindors took notice.

     Fawn glanced around at the other students and noticed Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, and Blaise Zabini standing off to the left of the classroom door. Parkinson and Bulstrode were talking animatedly to the two boys as Zabini listened with a hint of interest in his eyes at whatever they were rambling on about. Draco was leaning against the wall, blatantly ignoring his fellow housemates and looking down at his shoes with a stoic expression.

     Before the Golden Trio could answer Macmillan, the dungeon door opened and Slughorn's belly preceded him out of the door. Ushering the students inside, he greeted Fawn, Harry, and Zabini with particular enthusiasm.

     The dungeon was, most unusually, already full of vapors and odd smells. The students sniffed interestedly as they passed large, bubbling cauldrons. The four Slytherins took a table together, and Fawn felt a tug on her sleeve. Turning her head, Theodora stood beside her and grinned, grabbing the blonde's hand and leading her to a table where Mabel and Calarook sat. This left Harry, Ron, and Hermione to share a table with Ernie.

     A slow-bubbling, mud-like substance filled the contents of a black cauldron that sat next to the Ravenclaws' table. Fawn immediately recognized it as Polyjuice Potion.

     "Now then, now then, now then," murmured Slughorn, whose outline was waddling through the many shimmering vapors. "Scales out, everyone, and potion kits, and don't forget your copies of Advanced Potion-Making..."

     "Sir?" Harry asked, raising his hand, and the blonde eyed him.

     "Harry, m'boy?"

     "I haven't got a book or scales or anything— nor's Ron— we didn't realize we'd be able to do the N.E.W.T., you see—"

     Hermione rolled her eyes.

     "Ah, yes, Professor McGonagall did mention... not to worry, my dear boy, not to worry at all. You can use ingredients from the store cupboard today, and I'm sure we can lend you some scales, and we've got a small stock of old books here; they'll do until you can write to Flourish and Blotts..." Slughorn strode over to a corner cupboard and, after a moment's foraging, emerged with two very battered-looking copies of Advanced Potion-Making, which he gave gracefully to Harry and Ron.

     "Now then," said Slughorn, returning to the front of the class and inflating his already bulging chest so that the buttons on his waistcoat threatened to burst off, "I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of things you ought to be able to do after completing your N.E.W.T.s. You ought to have heard of 'em, even if you haven't made 'em yet. Anyone tell me what this one is?" He indicated to the cauldron nearest the Slytherin table. Calarook raised himself slightly in his seat and saw what looked like plain water boiling inside it.

     Fawn's well-practiced hand hit the air before anybody else's; Slughorn pointed at her excitedly. "It's Veritaserum, a colorless and odorless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth," she answered.

     "Very good, very good, Miss Depraysie!" Slughorn smiled happily. "Now," he continued, pointing at the cauldron nearest her table, "this one here is pretty well known... Featured in a few Ministry leaflets lately, too... Who can—"

     Fawn's hand was the fastest once more. "It's Polyjuice Potion, sir," she breathed as her fellow Ravenclaws smiled at her; they all knew how brilliant the girl was.

     "Excellent, excellent! Now, this one here... yes, my dear?" Slughorn asked as Hermione's hand punched the air before Fawn's did.

     "It's Amortentia!"

     "It is indeed. It seems almost foolish to ask," Slughorn paused, mightily impressed, "but I assume you know what it does?"

     "It's the most powerful love potion in the world!" Hermione answered, lowering her hand.

     "Quite right! You recognized it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?"

     "And the steam rising in characteristic spirals," Hermione added enthusiastically, "and it's supposed to smell differently to each person according to what attracts us. I can smell freshly mown grass, new parchment, and—" But she turned slightly pink and didn't complete the sentence, her eyes glancing over at Fawn before looking away.

     "May I ask your name, my dear?" Slughorn asked curiously, ignoring the Gryffindor's embarrassment.

     "Hermione Granger, sir."

     "Granger? Granger? Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?"

     "No. I don't think so, sir. I'm Muggle-born, you see." Fawn watched as Draco leaned close to Zabini and whispered something; both of them snickered.

     Her blood boiled, as it often did whenever Draco Malfoy opened his mouth, and she narrowed her sky-blue eyes at him. "Piss off, Malfoy," Mabel, who had heard their whispers, defended Hermione and flipped off the Slytherin boy. Slughorn paid no attention to the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables. Instead, he beamed and looked from Hermione to Harry, who was sitting next to her.

     "Oho! 'One of my best friends is Muggle-born, and she's the best in our year!' I'm assuming this is the very friend of whom you spoke, Harry?"

     "Yes, sir," Harry said uncomfortably.

     "Well, take twenty well-earned points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger. You too, for Ravenclaw, Miss Depraysie," Draco looked rather shocked and annoyed at Mabel's gesture as the girl turned around in her chair. Hermione turned to Harry with a radiant expression and whispered to him.

     "Amortentia doesn't really create love, of course. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room— oh yes," Slughorn paused, nodding gravely at Draco and Zabini, both of whom were smirking skeptically. "When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love... Now, it is time for us to start working."

      "Sir, you haven't told us what's in this one," Theodora spoke up, pointing at a small black cauldron resting on the professor's desk. The potion within was splashing about; it was the color of molten gold, and large drops were leaping like goldfish above the surface, though not a particle had spilled.

     Fawn's eyes lit up as she realized what it was. "Felix Felicis," she muttered as a sinking feeling settled in her chest. Everyone turned to look at her, her fellow Ravenclaws were shocked that she spoke without being called on. The blonde never spoke out in class.

     "Oho!" Slughorn exclaimed again. "I shouldn't be surprised that you recognize it, Miss Depraysie. You've had experience with this particular potion before. Yes, I remember your godfather telling me about what happened over brunch a few months ago." All eyes turned to the girl, similar to how they did yesterday at Slughorn's lunch yesterday. And similar to yesterday, Slughorn was, yet again, opening his mouth and speaking about events that weren't known for a reason. Fawn looked away from the professor and caught the Golden Trio watching her curiously. "Now, do you mind telling the class what exactly it is?"

     "It's liquid luck," Fawn spoke softly. "It makes you lucky."

     The whole class seemed to sit up a little straighter.

     "Quite right, take another ten points for Ravenclaw. Yes, it's a funny little potion, Felix Felicis," said Slughorn. "Desperately tricky to make and disastrous to get wrong. However, if brewed correctly, as this has been, you will find that all your endeavors tend to succeed until the effects wear off."

     "Why don't people drink it all the time then, sir?" Calarook asked curiously, furrowing his brows.

     "Because if taken in excess, it causes giddiness, recklessness, and dangerous overconfidence," Slughorn sighed, looking at Fawn as he spoke, and everyone directed their eyes to her. "Too much of a good thing, you know... highly toxic in large quantities. But taken sparingly, and very occasionally..."

     It was official. Fawn wasn't going to enjoy this Potions term at all.

     "Have you ever taken it, sir?" Mabel asked, trying to stray the attention away from the blonde, who appeared extremely uncomfortable.

     Slughorn nodded. "Twice in my life. Once when I was twenty-four, once when I was fifty-seven. Two tablespoonfuls are taken with breakfast. Two perfect days." The professor gazed dreamily off into the distance, and Calarook snorted at the look on his face. "And that," Slughorn murmured, apparently coming back to earth, "is what I shall be offering as a prize in this lesson."

     There was silence in which every bubble and gurgle of the surrounding potions seemed magnified tenfold.

     "One tiny bottle of Felix Felicis is enough for twelve hours' luck. From dawn till dusk, you will be lucky in everything you attempt. Now, I must warn you that Felix Felicis is a banned substance in organized competition... sporting events, for instance, examinations, or elections. So, the winner is to use it on an ordinary day only... and watch how that ordinary day becomes extraordinary!" His words snapped Fawn out of the mind-space she had entered momentarily, and a heavy but quiet breath left her lips. "So, how are you to win this fabulous prize? Well, by turning to page ten of Advanced Potion-Making. We have a little over an hour left, which should be time for you to make a decent attempt at the Draught of Living Death. I know that it is more complex than anything you have attempted before, and I do not expect a perfect potion from anybody. The person who does best, however, will win little Felix here. Off you go!"

     Brewing the Draught of Living Death wasn't going to be easy, but if Fawn could correctly brew Felix Felicis on her own, then she could accomplish the task given.

     She wanted to do the assignment correctly. She wanted to do it perfectly. But knowing that the reward was that tiny bottle of golden sunshine, she also didn't want to be the one to get it right. She didn't want to be near that potion ever again.

     There was a scraping as everyone drew their cauldrons toward them and some loud clunks as people began adding weights to their scales, but nobody spoke. The concentration within the room was almost tangible. Making sure that her cauldron was weighed evenly, she turned her head to look at the textbook. Her eyes scanned the words quickly before walking to the store cupboard to grab the ingredients.

     Fawn weaved her way out of the students crowding around the cupboard and returned to her seat, immediately adding the Infusion of Wormwood to the boiling water. She measured a quarter teaspoon of the powdered root of asphodel and added it to the milky grey liquid. Grabbing her ladle, she stirred twice clockwise. Reaching her cauldron, Fawn grabbed the glass container holding a sloth brain in it. With careful delicacy, she added the brain to the grey liquid and watched as it instantly smoothed over and turned into a currant-colored black.

     As time progressed, everyone kept glancing around at what the rest of the class was doing; this was both an advantage and a disadvantage of Potions, that it was hard to keep your work private. Within ten minutes, the whole place was full of bluish steam, nearly resembling the shade of blue on the Ravenclaw students' ties.

     Hermione and Fawn were, seemingly, the only two to have progressed the furthest with the potion. The room was silent but the occasional "bloody hell" and "oh Merlin" could be heard hissed under someone's breath.

     A flash of grey smoke rose from across Fawn, as well as a loud pop, and she looked up to see Calarook's tie and eyebrows singeing. "What a dumbarse," Theodora mumbled, loud enough for only the four of them to hear, and Mabel laughed quietly with her hand over her mouth.

     A genuine smile spread across Fawn's face as Calarook glowered at the three girls. "I think you're going to be eyebrow-less for quite some time, Ethan," she teased, using his first name, although no one usually acknowledged him by it.

     "Shut your mouth, Depraysie," he grumbled.

     Looking back down at the book, she frowned at the instructions. Cut with a knife and add the beans' juice to the mix. Cutting the bean wasn't doable. Sopophorous beans had somewhat of a hard exterior, and trying to cut one open with the blade of a knife wasn't a smart idea. Surely the author knew that?

     Going against what was written, Fawn used the silver blade of her knife to crush the pearly-white bean, which opened the bean up almost immediately and overflowed with thick, silver juice. She held it over the cauldron, squeezing it until all that remained in between her fingertips was a shriveled-up bean.

     "Sir, I think you knew my grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy?" Slughorn was passing the Slytherin table as Draco spoke.

     "Yes," the professor answered without looking at him, "I was sorry to hear he had died, although it wasn't unexpected, dragon pox at his age... " As he walked away, Fawn rested her eyes on the platinum blonde who looked ever so slightly disappointed. It was clear that the boy had expected to be treated like her, Harry or Zabini; perhaps even hoped for some preferential treatment of the type he received from his Head of House.

     Fawn crushed the other eleven sopophorous beans and added their juice, watching and waiting for the deep purple shade of liquid to turn to lilac, but it only lightened enough to where it was close to lilac but not quite fully. Adding one more bean wouldn't hurt. She headed to the cupboard and grabbed one more bean, briskly making her way back to her cauldron. Pressing the blade to the bean, she heard a satisfying crack and placed the blade to the side, picking up the bean and holding it over the potion.

     Stir anti-clockwise seven times until it's clear as water.

     The blonde glanced at her cauldron to see that it was a perfect shade of lilac and smiled slightly.

     "How did you get yours to look like that?" Theodora inquired and leaned over to peer closer at the potion, confusion written across her face.

     Mabel looked down at her licorice-colored potion before looking back at Fawns'. "Yeah, how did you do that?" she asked.

     "You need to crush the bean, not cut it," she explained as the two girls shook their heads.

     "No! The instructions specifically say to cut!" Hermione and the two Ravenclaws exclaimed in unison, and Fawn looked over to see that Hermione was speaking to Harry. Her hair grew bushier in the fumes rising from her cauldron, and her cheeks were tinted red. Even in panic and frustration, Hermione Granger still looked absolutely beautiful.

     Tearing her eyes away, she looked back at the two girls next to her and shrugged, grabbing her ladle. She stirred seven times anti-clockwise, but the lilac liquid had only turned to pale pink. Had she read the instructions correctly?

     Stir anti-clockwise seven times until it's clear as water.

     She followed them, so why wasn't anything happening?

     Fawn glared at her cauldron as Calarook muttered curses fluently under his breath, running his hands through his hair, stressed.

     "And time's up!" Slughorn called. "Stop stirring, please!"

     The blonde placed her ladle on the table and sighed, furrowing her eyebrows as she went over in her head everything she did, wondering why her potion had only turned pale pink.

     Slughorn moved slowly among the tables, peering into cauldrons. He made no comment but occasionally gave the potions a stir or a sniff. Once he reached the Ravenclaw table, he smiled ruefully at Calarook and Theodora's cauldrons. He gave a pitiful smile to Mabel. When his eyes landed on Fawn's, a real smile crossed his bubbly face. "So far, Miss Depraysie has gotten the closest to successfully brewing the Draught of Living Death. Well done," the blonde furrowed her eyebrows in even more confusion and glanced down at her cauldron.

     At last, he reached the table where Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ernie were sitting. He gave that rueful smile at the tar-like substance in Ron's cauldron and passed over Ernie's navy concoction. Hermione's potion, he gave an approving nod. Then he saw Harry's, and a look of incredulous delight spread over his face.

     "The clear winner!" He cried to the dungeon. "Excellent, excellent, Harry! Good lord, it's clear you've inherited your mother's talent. She was a dab hand at Potions, Lily was! Here you are, then, here you are— one bottle of Felix Felicis, as promised, and use it well!"

     A scowl crossed the faces of the Slytherins as the Ravenclaws paid no attention, whispering to each other about how their potions turned out. Hermione's face dropped with disappointment, and Harry gave her a small smile that held a look of guilt, while Ron simply looked dumbfounded.

     Just like after Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry grabbed Fawn's elbow, and she nodded without him having to say a word. She fell in step with the Golden Trio as they exited the dungeon together.

     "How did you do that?" Ron whispered to Harry as they walked down the corridor, the Slytherins right behind them.

     "Got lucky, I suppose," Harry mumbled.

     Fawn narrowed her stare. "You're lying," she whispered, and his eyes widened as he looked over at her. She raised an eyebrow as if she were challenging him, waiting for him to respond to the accusation.

     Sighing, Harry grabbed Fawn's hand, pulling her and the other two into an empty and dark closet. "What the bloody hell are we during in here?" Ron asked, alarmed.

     "Malfoy was listening to us," the raven-haired boy spoke quietly.

     "Lumos." The tips of Hermione and Fawn's wands lit up the small closet.

     "I got the potion right because I followed the directions," Harry whispered, and the blonde looked at him oddly.

     "I did too, and mine didn't turn out like yours," said Hermione stiffly.

     "Fawn, did you follow the instructions? I saw yours, and it was almost perfect," Harry said.

     The Ravenclaw shifted uncomfortably as her back was pressed to several broom handles. "No, I didn't. The directions weren't right, and you're a terrible liar, Harry. You didn't follow the instructions either." Fawn hissed quietly.

     "You didn't follow the instructions?" Ron asked her incredulously, raising a humorous brow.

     Rolling her eyes, Fawn sighed. "The instructions weren't right. The author of Advanced Potion-Making clearly didn't know how to brew every potion correctly. Sopophorous beans have a hard exterior, and cutting one open with a knife's blade isn't smart. It would bounce off the blade and take someone's eye out. Crushing the bean with the blade is much more efficient and less time-consuming. The book called for twelve sopophorous beans, but you actually need thirteen. Using only twelve keeps the potion at a color similar to lilac, but not exactly; an extra bean is needed to create that desired lilac color," she finished, brushing a strand of blonde hair out of her eyes.

     "Bloody hell, you sound just like Hermione. You two would be perfect together," the redhead mumbled, and the two girls' faces burned red.

     Shaking her head, the Gryffindor Prefect stepped forward. "How did you know the instructions were wrong?" Hermione asked Harry, and he quirked a brow. "You obviously knew they were, or else you would have followed them."

     "The book told me." The three stood there, pressed against one another as they gave the Boy Who Lived blank looks. "The copy Slughorn gave me! Almost everything in it is marked out, and new instructions have been added. I just followed what the person wrote." Hermione's face was stony, and her eyes were narrowed. "I s'pose you think I cheated?" he concluded, aggravated by her expression.

     "Well, it wasn't exactly your own work, was it?" she asked stiffly.

     "He only followed different instructions to ours," Ron butted in. "Could've been a catastrophe, couldn't it? But he took a risk, and it paid off." He heaved a sigh. "Slughorn could've handed me that book, but no, I get the one no one's ever written on. Puked on, by the look of page fifty-two, but other than that, not one bloody annotated note on any page."

     "Harry," Fawn spoke up softly, and he looked over at her. "In our second year, Ginny talked to and took orders from Tom Riddle through a diary—what? It's not like I live under a rock and don't know about anything that happened in the past six years." Fawn retorted when she noticed the look Ron was giving her.

     "It's not like that, it's just a textbook with scribbles in it." Harry insisted.

     "Fawn's got a point," Hermione exclaimed, perking up at once. "We ought to check that there's nothing odd about it. I mean, all these funny instructions, who knows?"

     "Hey!" Harry said indignantly as the girl pulled his copy of Advanced Potion-Making out of his bag and raised her wand.

     "Specialis Revelio!" she murmured, tapping it smartly on the front cover. Nothing happened. The book simply rested in her hand, looking old, dirty, and dog-eared.

     "Finished?" Harry asked irritably. "Or d'you want to wait and see if it does a few back-flips?"

     "It seems all right," Hermione grumbled, staring at the book suspiciously. "I mean, it really does seem to be just a textbook."

     "Good. Then I'll have it back," the raven-haired boy sighed, snatching it from Hermione's hands.

     Fawn's eyes widened as she checked the time. "We're going to be late for dinner."

     "Bloody hell, she's right. If Dean has already eaten most of the boiled potatoes, I'll kill him myself." Ron grumbled as the four tumbled out of the closet, heading for the Great Hall. A simple and peaceful silence settled amongst the students as they bustled to dinner, all of their minds focused on different things.

────

     THE SLAMMING OF A TEXTBOOK ECHOED IN THE SILENT DORMITORY, AND EVERYONE'S HEAD SHOT UP, TURNING IN THE DIRECTION OF WHERE THE SUDDEN NOISE HAD ERUPTED FROM. Padma's hand laid on top of her Charms book and she looked piqued. "All right, spill it," she spoke, and everyone's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

     "What are you on about?" Marietta asked curiously, sitting across from Mabel on her bed.

     "Fawn," Padma spoke, and the blonde's eyes widened, incredibly puzzled as to what was happening. "What's going on with Harry?"

     Fawn's blue eyes twinkled as she tilted her head to the side. "What d'you mean?"

     The black-haired girl rolled her eyes exasperatedly and sighed dramatically. "I mean what I just said. I noticed you sitting with him, Ron, and Hermione in Defense, at lunch and talking to them after classes. What's going on with you and Harry?"

     "There is no "Harry and I," we started talking yesterday on the train after Slughorn's lunch. He asked me to hang out with him and his friends during the day, so I did. He offered for us to be friends, and I took the offer. I don't really have friends here; this is the most I've talked to anyone outside of the faculty. I promised my godfather and myself now that I would try to make friends this year." Fawn breathed out, and the other girls all shared glances.

     Mabel was the first to speak, "Does that mean you'll actually talk to us this year?"

     The blonde nodded softly, and Theodora squealed. "Finally! I've been waiting six years for you to finally let down that bloody wall of yours and allow us to be your friends and talk to us!" she beamed. Marietta rolled her eyes at her but sent a smile to Fawn.

     "Back to my question: what's going on with you and Harry? Cause there is a "you and Harry," I can tell by how he glanced at you today." Padma pressed, and Fawn rolled her eyes.

     "Harry doesn't like me, I barely know him, and he barely knows me. Besides, I like girls. I may not talk a lot, but everyone knows that." Fawn sighed as she put her hair in a messy bun, sitting up in bed.

     "Correction: everybody in Ravenclaw knows that," Padma clarified as she placed her textbooks on the floorboards.

     "Speaking of girls," Theodora spoke with a cocky grin, and Marietta rolled her eyes again, "it turns out that a particular girl that I'm interested in is bisexual. So, you know what that means..." The tone of her voice was very suggestive, and Fawn didn't need to hear what Theodora was going to say; she already had a pretty good inkling. "Guess who's about to shoot their shot."

     Raising a brow, Mabel glanced at her girlfriend. "Shoot their shot? Where on Earth did you hear that phrase?" Marietta asked, lacing her fingers with the ginger-haired girl's.

     "The Muggle neighborhood I live in has loads of kids, and I overhear their conversations every now and then." Theodora shrugged.

     "As does mine, but I've never heard not one child say that."