"So, how's our first month back been, boys?" Javier Vance asked when all five boys were nestled away in their beds on the first night of October. He was on his bed pushing around his hair, raking a wide comb through it to make it look like one of the Jackson brothers. Milo could never remember which one, being more of a Ramones boy himself.

Boyish, smiley Robin Jacobson replied, "Bloody awful. My girlfriend broke up with me a few days ago saying she was too occupied with her studies to have a relationship. Now she's dating your sister."

     "Ouch," Cass cackled. "That's got to hurt."

     "Mine's been great," Vincent Rosmerta cut in. His hair, shaved on the sides and a mess of tight coils on top, had Javi's self-heating headwrap draped over it, and he was holding a liquorice wand between the gap in his front teeth. "I got an Outstanding on my latest transfiguration test."

     "Well done," Robin called proudly. "See. The studying did pay off."

     "Or maybe it was the Zonko's quill I took in."

     Cass rolled over to face the boy. "You're going to get put in prison, you know that?"

     "Hopefully not before I pass my NEWTs with flying colours," Vincent replied nonchalantly.

     "Whatever," Cass muttered. "What about you, Miles?"

     "Yeah, Courtney, how's it now that Potter and his mob have layed off?" Javier propped his chin up on both hands as he watched Milo from his bed.

     Milo shrugged. "I guess it's okay."

     "Okay?" Robin snorted. "You've got it the best. Great girlfriend, good marks, we're the best friends anybody could wish for... what have you got to complain about?"

     Before Milo could answer, however, Cass cut him off. "Lupin's been harassing him."

     Vincent's wand was out quicker than a lightning strike. "Come on, then. Let's get him to lay off for good."

     "No, no, no," Milo called, holding out his arms to stop Vincent from moving. "He's not harassing me. He just keeps talking to me. I don't know why."

     "He's got a big, fat crush on you," Javier taunted with a grin. Milo would've kicked him, but his legs couldn't reach the distance between the beds. "I'm serious. He's never had a girlfriend, has he? Dorcas Meadowes fancied him for ages and she's well fit, he never batted an eyelid at her. He's got to swing the other way."

     "It's '77, Javi," Robin interrupted. "You can't just assume things like that."

     "Things aren't as progressive as you straights thinks, Jacobson," Vincent snapped in response. Robin rolled his eyes and adopted that mischievous smile that he claimed had been passed down through generations of Jacobson troublemakers.

     "Wouldn't know, would I, Rosmerta?"

     Vincent just rolled his eyes and went back to reading the novel propped between his feet. But Robin wasn't quite done yet, and both Cass and Milo shifted closer to the pair to listen in on the brewing fight.

     "Anyway, how's your sister, Vince?" Robin asked with a thin, wide smile. "Still temping down at the Broomsticks?"

     The other boy's expression grew stony. "No, she's working there full time now. The owner's getting on a bit and needs extra help."

     "Full time?" Robin feigned delight, hands slapping to the sides of his cheeks as his mouth formed a perfect circle. "Oh, isn't that the best news I've heard all day! I might have a chance to get it in now that she'll see a lot more of me—"

     Whatever he was going to say next was cut off, because Vincent threw a silencing spell at him and moved to shove him off of his bed.

     "One more word about my sister and I'll drape your guts this room around like tinsel, Jacobson."

     He looked around the room, as if searching for a new challenger. Cass and Javier raised their hands, and Milo just snorted and shook his head at the argument.

     "How's Renée, Miles?" Javier asked finally. Milo smiled.

     Renée's room was the best bet for events like these. Her roommates were often out doing god-knows-what (two were in the Gobstones club, one liked to hang around the kitchens and help bake, the other just went off the grid for hours at a time) and nobody ever came in to disturb. There was even a silencing charm on the door.

     That meant it was safe for them to roll around Renée's four-poster in various states of undress, trying to find new places to press kisses on each other's bodies. It wasn't until Renée pulled away that Milo realised how numb his lips were.

     "Vance and Evans were talking about you today," she said breathlessly, brushing her loose coils of hair back up towards the ponytail they'd been tugged from. "I overheard them at lunch."

     Milo hummed. "Was it anything worth telling me about?"

     "Not much. Evans said Potter was talking to her about Lupin, saying he was trying to be your friend. Is that true?"

     "Yeah. He's been at it since we came back from summer, something about repairing all the damage him and his friends have done over all these years."

     "I think you should give him a chance," Renée said. She fell back onto her pillows and let Milo sit against her chest between her legs. She knotted her fingers into his waves immediately and gave an unconscious tug. "He didn't do anything to hurt you."

     "He didn't do anything to stop them, either."

     "Imagine Cass bullying somebody. You'd never stick up for the person he was going for, would you?"

     "I would too!"

     "Only because you've been bullied. And I'm sure you wouldn't. He's your best friend. They're Lupin's best friends. Same principle."

     Milo scowled, unwilling to admit she was right. "Yeah, whatever. Can we not talk Lupin and Cass while we're making out, please?"

     "I have Quidditch practise soon, anyway. Are you coming to the match on Sunday?"

     "Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff? Wouldn't miss it for the world."

     "I can lend you a yellow scarf if you want."

     "Firstly, do you think so little of me that I don't own a yellow scarf?" She laughed at that, because it was true. Milo had scarves in every colour of the rainbow, every shade on the spectrum, every pattern under the sun. He probably had scarves in colours that hadn't been discovered yet. "Second, I have some house pride. Cass'll carve me into bite-size pieces if I don't wear red and gold."

     "Miles, you're already bite-sized," she taunted, nipping at the shirt fabric covering his neck to prove her point. He sharply pushed away from her and frowned. "I'm only teasing, Milo."

     "I know," he said with a sigh. "I don't want you touching me there."

     "Sorry," she said sheepishly. There was a tense silence, until Renée pulled her shirt back on and stepped into some loose trousers. "Er— I'll be down at the Quidditch pitch until gone dark. See you tomorrow, Milo."

     She left the room and Milo rolled onto his back, arms and legs splayed to every edge of the mattress.

     "Fuck," he announced to the room. Then he pulled his jeans back on, laced his boots, and pulled his cardigan over his arms before leaving the room.