January passed as the days on the Calendar flew by, eager to leave and take the cold with it. But February was still enhanced with coldness, but not snow. At first seeing Umbridge, the trio and Albert’s determination to continue with Hogwarts completely changed when they saw the terrible smile on Umbridge’s toad-like face. Umbridge’s way of punishing students was… you guessed it, detentions. Right at the first day back from the exhausting, yet enjoyable holiday the trio and Albert had gone through, they had been given detention for the simplest things. Albert didn’t adjust his tie properly, Amelia’s black tights had the thinnest overlapping, Olivia’s hair was loosened and Isabell didn’t polish her shoes. The only thing that was keeping them sane were the D.A lessons, and finding the right time to do them was hard, as many people had tests coming up.

‘The simplest things I tell you, the simplest things!’ Isabell was saying on a fine February afternoon. ‘Today she gave me detention for not tying my hair. Was there ever an educational decree about always keeping long hair tied?’ 

‘Did you know that in Muggle schools girls who have long hair have to tie up their hair all the time?’ Albert said as they headed to their Charms classroom. 

Isabell gaped at him as they feebly entered the classroom. They were not looking forward to it, especially because Umbridge was sitting there on a pink stool in the corner. Flitwick greeted them with his squeaky voice as they sat in their seats. Professor Flitwick was about to speak when Umbridge interrupted him with her irritating throat-clearing cough.

‘Hem, hem.’

‘Yes, Professor Umbridge?’

‘Did you receive the results of your previous inspection?’ she asked in her girlish voice.

‘Yes, I very much did. Thank you for saying I was a dwarf. I really appreciated the kind comments that had been forwarded to me.’

The trio and Albert glared at Umbridge. Umbridge didn’t blush or anything, but in fact, she smiled toothily, showing large gums and sharp teeth. 

‘Hem hem,’ came the silly clear throat cough from the corner. 

Mr. Flitwick looked at Umbridge, adjusting his glasses.  

‘How many books are you currently standing on, and how thick are they?’ 

‘Excuse me?’ Flitwick said, perplexed.

Umbridge did nothing but smile sweetly. Professor Flitwick decided not to reply, still baffled, and turned his back to Umbridge, whom he heard scribbling furiously on her clipboard. Professor Flitwick sighed. 

‘As you know, the O.W.L. tests are coming soon, so I recommend starting to revise this weekend. Today will only be revision of the lessons we have done, starting from-’

‘Professor Flitwick,’ Umbridge interrupted. ‘You never quite answered my question. I see you are a capable professor, despite your height. I’m sure that saying a few words won’t do anyone any harm of any sort.’

‘As I was saying, today will only be revision, starting from the first book, seven hundred and ninety one pages. Second book, four hundred and thirty nine pages. Third book, nine hundred and one pages. Fourth book, two hundred and seventy five pages,’ Professor Flitwick said, ignoring her.

He looked at Umbridge from his shoulder and saw that she had written down every single word he had just said. Isabell, Amelia and Albert looked at their dwarf-sized Charms professor. 

‘Now he seems shorter than he really is,’ Isabell muttered. 

Amelia shot her a look. Olivia had already opened the book and her green eyes were sprinting through pages of black words on them. 

‘No sound, only studying,’ he said, looking at two boys, who began whispering to each other next to Isabell, who just rolled her eyes. 

She couldn’t help but hear their whispering:

‘You know that Amelia over there?’ one of the boys, who had blonde hair, said as he looked at Amelia, who was remembering how to hold the wand when performing a particular spell. 

His friend nodded avidly, pretending to read the book in front of him when Flitwick gazed at him. They were both Slytherins, Isabell saw, the green of their undone ties and their hem and collar of the cardigan. The first two or three buttons were un-buttoned. Isabell rolled her eyes. 

Bad boys, huh? 

One boy had golden locks on his scalp and grey eyes, the golden locks purposely dangling down to his eyes. The boy had an alluring smile on his handsome face, which showed perfectly aligned white teeth. His friend on the other hand, had light brown hair that entirely covered his forehead and almost his eyebrows (which were neither thick nor thin) that were almost straight. His jade-green eyes glimmered wickedly. 

‘Well… I think I might… er… have a soft spot for her.’ 

‘For the billionth time, that girl used to be Draco’s friend since they were born,’ the other boy with light brown hair scowled. 

‘Draco’s friend, not anything else!’ the other one argued.

‘Mr. Osborn and Mr. Willow, do you both have any excuse to carelessly wear your school uniform like that and distract everyone from their study time?’ Professor Flitwick said, his eyes focused on a book in front of him, which was the one he had been standing on. 

They buttoned their shirts and undesirably straightened their ties. Umbridge, who was being completely ignored by everyone, scribbled something on her pink clipboard. 

‘You both might be eminent amongst your peers, but that does not give you an advantage to slouch about,’ Professor Flitwick continued. 

‘Yeah, they’re eminent alright,’ Isabell whispered sarcastically to Olivia, who didn’t reply, but almost laughed.

Isabell nudged Amelia with her elbow, who looked at her. 

‘What? You’re distracting me-’

‘This guy next to me likes you apparently-’

‘Why do people always assume that Draco and I have been friends since we were born or something?’ whispered Amelia in an annoyed tone. ‘I met him when I was four.’

‘Well, this guy likes-’

‘Oh, him. Yeah, very eminent. Now, please leave me to study,’ Amelia said, tossing her head away from Isabell, who then boredly played with her quill. 

Amelia gave her a look. 

‘What-’

‘Aren’t you assumably the Charms expert in this class?’

Isabell shrugged. 

‘You’re giving me more reason why I shouldn’t read a five hundred page book.’

‘You don’t read it, you scan it with your eyes and try to memorise the important information,’ Amelia snapped.

‘It’s not memorising, it’s understanding,’ Isabell calmly said, looking at Professor Flitwick, who looked at them for a second or two.

‘Then if you’re the expert in studying, then you better do that.’

‘Yeah, well-’

‘Class dismissed!’ they heard Professor Flitwick squeak as students hurriedly got out of the classroom. ‘Don’t want you to be late for your Hogsmeade trip.’

They saw that the boy with blonde hair, who was called Forrest Osborn, stayed behind, his friend with light brown hair, Dylan Willow, glaring at him. 

‘You have no chance with her,’ Dylan Willow said as he walked away. 

‘Listen to your friend,’ Amelia whispered to Forrest, who arched his brows.

‘So, you’re really with Draco Malfoy, are you?’ he asked.

‘No, rumours.’

Amelia carried her bag and shoved her hand in Forrest’s face to ban him from saying anything else. She caught up with her friends, who had already exited the classroom.  

‘Where were you?’

‘Forrest wanted to try and talk to me.’

‘Who?’ said Albert.

‘Forrest Osborn?’ Olivia asked. ‘That jerk that pretends to be a celebrity?’ 

Amelia nodded quickly as they headed to the Ravenclaw tower to put their heavy books back and change into Muggle clothes. But Amelia’s heart suddenly imploded. Why could Forrest suggest that she was with Draco? Draco, the grey-eyed boy who was frequently accompanied by his two cronies, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, who acted as his henchmen? Draco, the one who was known to be a cowardly bully who tricked and hurted people to get what he wants?

‘Amelia, something bothering you?’ Isabell asked, making Amelia snap out of her thoughts. 

‘Hm? Oh, just thinking about what we could do in Hogsmeade…’ 

‘Zonko’s Shop, definitely. Not the shop that has couples holding hands and snogging while a plate of sugar is in between them. And that shop is just worse in Valentines- Oh, no, no, no. Today i-is… V-V-Valentines…’ Isabell gulped.

‘That’s why Forrest wanted to talk to me…’ Amelia said to herself. 

‘Valentines isn’t about snogging and all that!’ Olivia snapped. ‘It’s about showing that you love and care for the people who are close to you.’ 

Isabell shot her and Albert a look, as though expecting them to be dramatic like their first year. Umbridge strode past them, sending them a girlish giggle as she walked by and followed by perfume that made them cough and wheeze. They, along with the bags that broke their backs, climbed up the Ravenclaw tower and entered the common room, where each one headed to their dormitory to get prepared for their first trip to Hogsmeade after the holiday. They were given gloves and scarves, which were stitched with the Ravenclaw eagle. 

‘Good thing Umbridge doesn’t go to Hogsmeade,’ Olivia said. 

Amelia and Isabell nodded in agreement as they exited the Common room.

They went down to the Great Hall and headed to

‘Clearwater!’ a familiar voice said.

Amelia groaned as she jerked her head and there Forrest was, standing there. 

‘What do you want, creep-’

She gasped, for Forrest had grabbed her neck and kissed her on the cheek then snickered. He jogged to the Slytherin table. 

‘Told you I can do the pathetic dare you gave me,’ Amelia heard him say to his mates. 

Amelia’s body fumed. 

He can annoy her. 

He can bug her day and night.

But he can never do what he just did. 

Before Isabell was about to warn her, Amelia was already walking to the Slytherin table, rolling up her sleeves as she approached her target. Dylan Willow, Forrest’s friend, saw Amelia coming and elbowed Forrest in his ribs, so that he stared at him, irked. But then he saw Amelia and slouched back amusedly, watching her approaching him. 

‘Forrest Osborn, you foul, dirty person. How dare you do that to me. Who gave you the authority to do that! Too scared to fail a stupid dare, I see? Well, guess what? My friends dared me to do this.’

Amelia, with a yell of anger, punched him in the face, and blood transpired under Forrest’s nose. He looked at her, grey eyes widening from underneath his golden locks. Isabell slowly clapped for her as she patted her on the back, laughing. Olivia’s mouth was open, but she was laughing as well. Albert’s eyebrows were raised, but he was amused to see Forrest, whom he loathed, getting punched.

‘Thirty points from Ravenclaw,’ a cold voice, which they had not heard in a week, said behind them. 

Amelia slowly turned her head to see Severus Snape was standing there, his dull black eyes glaring at Amelia. Olivia, Isabell and Albert shoved aside and cleared Snape’s path. 

‘Someone get Mr. Osborn to the Hospital Wing- ah, maybe you would like to do it, Ms. Clearwater.’

Amelia gaped at him, unable to believe her ears.

‘M-me? I can’t do that-’

She looked at Forrest, who was glaring at her, not with a loving expression, but a cold one. 

‘Hem, hem.’

Umbridge came walking towards them, looking at Forrest with arched thin brows, then looked at Amelia with a sweet smile. 

‘Yes, Professor Umbridge?’ Snape said, his lips curling. 

‘I think I have a better punishment for Ms. Clearwater. Yes, she will send Mr. Osborn to the Hospital Wing, but also, as one of my Educational decrees say, that I, as High Inquisitor, have the authority to ban students from going to Hogsmeade. So, that would be the case for Ms. Clearwater, as well as her friends, as they did not stop her from punching Mr. Osborn.’

‘They didn’t do anything-’ Amelia began.

‘And detention for a week. Off you go.’

The trio and Albert were about to walk to the Ravenclaw Tower when Snape called Amelia and told her to send Forrest to the Hospital Wing. She groaned and headed to it, Forrest following her. 

‘You’re supposed to help me go to the Hospital Wing, not show me the way,’ Forrest said coldly.

‘And how am I supposed to help you do that?’

Forrest looked daggers at her as they reached the door of the Hospital Wing.

‘Well, in you go,’ said Amelia, pointing at the door and not looking at Forrest. 

‘You know, now that I think about it, the only reason I liked you was because…’ 

Forrest reached for her hair and his cold fingers ran down the golden-blonde silks. 

‘Not because of your looks, which are actually great, but because of how much of a ninny you are. Might be able to guide you about, you know…’

He smiled like the devil he was and opened the door, leaving Amelia immobilised on the spot. 

‘Madam Pomfrey… a friend of mine hit my nose because she’s an ill-tempered person and doesn’t accept the fact that I like her…’ Amelia heard Forrest say. 

The doors shut without anyone doing it, and the last thing Amelia saw were wicked grey eyes looking at her.

‘You sent him?’ Isabell asked when Amelia returned. 

‘Unwillingly,’ Amelia replied. 

‘I can’t believe we aren’t to go to Hogsmeade anymore…’ Olivia gloomily said, until two boys with flaming red hair and identical mischievous grins  stood in their way. 

The two boys both crossed their arms in perfect sync and looked at the trio and Albert’s sorrowful faces. 

‘Banned from Hogsmeade?’ one of the red-haired boys said. 

‘Banned by the Toad, eh?’ said the other. 

They nodded, looking at the two boys, whose tone made it seem as though a circus show was about to begin. 

‘Then, take the One-Eyed Witch Passage!’ Fred Weasley said, the boy standing on the left. 

‘The One-Eyed Witch Passage?’ Isabell repeated, bemused. 

‘Yeah, that’s right!’ George Weasley spoke, the boy on the right.

‘But this passage, this one leads right into the cellar of Honeydukes. We've used it loads of times (Fred nodded). And as you might've noticed, the entrance is right outside the room, through the one-eyed old crone's hump,’ George Weasley explained as he took out a blank white paper which was drawn on it a red lined passage that led to the One-Eyed Witch. 

‘It’s on the third floor.’

The trio and Albert nodded as they headed to the Ravenclaw tower, when Isabell suddenly stopped in her tracks.

‘What if we actually-’

‘No. You’re not thinking of actually sneaking to Hogsmeade when my hand has already had enough of Umbridge’s detentions, Isabell!’ Olivia said, shaking her head.

‘C’mon,’ Isabell implored.

‘You said it’s Valentine’s and you didn’t want to-’ began Albert.

‘I said I didn’t want to go into the shop, but I never said I didn’t want to Hogsmeade!’

‘It’s worth a try, Olivia,’ insisted Amelia.

Olivia looked at Albert, who nodded eagerly. She considered it, thinking of ways they wouldn’t be spotted by Umbridge.

‘What if Umbridge suddenly decides to inspect Hogsmeade?’ Olivia demanded.

‘You’re thinking of the impossible here,’ Amelia reasoned. 

Olivia at their hopeful and eager faces. 

‘F-fine.’

They all rushed to the statue of the One-Eyed Witch. 

‘Dissendium,’ Isabell quickly said.

The statue’s hump slowly opened, revealing a small eerie tunnel, which they entered. The tunnel’s end was a black void. The One-Eyed Witch’s hump closed, making the only source of light gone. 

‘Lumos Maxima,’ Albert murmured as the tip of his wand emitted light, illuminating the path ahead of them.

‘But… almost the entire school knows that we are banned…’ Olivia said after a while. ‘We don’t have an Invisibility Cloak, let alone hide inside there with four people under it.’  

‘But we do have a snakeskin cloak,’ Amelia smiled, holding out a cloak with green snakeskin that shone from the light of Albert’s wand.

‘How many?’ asked Olivia.

‘One that we can enlarge, unlike invisibility cloaks.’

‘Engorgio,’ Olivia said as she pointed her wand at the snakeskin cloak. 

It got larger and they all covered themselves with it. They walked…and walked…as though it was a black hole…a never ending black hole… 

They finally reached a wooden door, but it was locked with a golden lock that had a fearsome lion, its mane flowing as though the wind was touching it. Opposite the lion on the lock was a snake, its sharp fangs bared. Below the snake was an eagle, soaring through the skies as its feathery wings seemed to be flapping. The animal below the lion resembled a badger, its eyes wide open and its stretched out nose sniffing. The Hogwarts houses. 

‘Alohomora!’ whispered Amelia.

The golden lock clicked open. They immediately opened the door, revealing a dusty cardboard box filled with empty and dumped bottles of different dull colours. On all of them were the same label:

Honeydukes

‘We’re in the cellar of Honeydukes?’ Isabell said incredulously.

‘That’s what Fred… or George… whatever. That’s what either of them said. We would end up here,’ Albert said, removing dust from his hair.

Amelia clashed and banged on a shelf, so that one of the boxes of dull bottles fell. The bottles shattered on the floor, creating a mosaic kind of art on the dusty floor. 

‘What’s all this happening down here?’ a woman’s voice yelled from above the cellar.

‘Hide,’ Albert breathed. 

They all hid behind a small cabinet, which was filled with dusty cardboard boxes, this time filled with different types of magical sweets that seemed expired and inedible. 

‘Don’t worry, dear. I’ll see what’s goin’ on. You go on with the students,’ a gruff man’s voice spoke. 

They heard heels walking away. The dark stairs revealed a large man, with a bald head and chalk white skin, as though his skin was never bathed in sunlight. The man scratched his chin as his brown eyes went in all directions. The man tapped his feet and looked around, unconvinced that people were a few inches away from him, heavy breathing slowly intensifying as the man walked a few steps towards them. 

‘Are yeh sure yeh heard something?’ the man called out to the woman, scanning the room and scratching his chin. ‘Or was it yer illness again? Ter hear random things?’

‘I’m pretty sure it was real this time, Ambrosius!’ the woman barked back.

The man put his moth-eaten hat on his bald head and muttered unclear things. He walked up the groaning stairs and shut the door behind him as it creaked. The three girls and Albert came out of their hiding places, serene and cheerful, their brains at ease. They were still covered in the snakeskin cloak as they headed up the squeaky stairs. 

‘Real challenge is to not bump into anybody in the shop, which is highly likely,’ Isabell said underneath the cloak. 

‘But not certainly,’ Olivia reasoned. 

When they finally reached the top, they saw that there were shelves upon shelves of the most mouth watering sweets imaginable. Creamy chunks of nougat, shimmering pink squares of coconut ice, fat, honey-coloured toffees that you had to keep chewing; hundreds of different kinds of chocolate in neat and organised rows; there was a large barrel of Every Flavour Beans, and another of Fizzing Whizzbees, the levitating sherbet balls that a Ravenclaw sixth-year boy had mentioned; along yet another wall were “Special Effects’ sweets: Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum” (which filled a room with bluebell-coloured bubbles that refused to pop for days), the strange, splintery Toothflossing Stringmints, tiny black Pepper Imps (‘Breathe fire for your friends!’), Ice Mice (‘Hear your teeth chatter and squeak!’), peppermint creams shaped like toads (‘Hop realistically in the stomach!’) , insubstantial sugar-spun quills and exploding bonbons. Students crowded upon the shelves of delicate sweets, having a voracious appetite for the appealing sweets lying in front of them. 

‘Hey, you!’ the bald man yelled, pointing at a First year boy, who was trying to sneak out with a bag of sweets in his hand. 

‘No filthy students under the age of thirteen are allowed in Hogsmeade, I’m afraid!’ the bald man, who was the owner of the shop and whose name was Ambrosius Flume, barked at the petrified first year. 

‘I-I-I saw a witch hump o-open in the third f-floor a-and I was c-c-curious to see wh-what was in th-there!’ the first year stammered. 

‘Well, get out the way yeh came in!’

The first year ran down the stairs and into the cellar, almost bumping into the trio and Albert when Albert dodged him just in time. 

‘I told you it was real this time!’ the woman’s voice snapped. 

It was Mr. Flume’s wife. But unlike her husband, her skin had a nice tan on it. She had short grey curls, red cheeks, and a plump face with a round nose that had a speck of flour on it. A strong colour of red lipstick was smeared on her thick lips; she was wearing a floral pastel mint green dress and a yellow apron that had different coloured stains on them. The trio and Albert greatly suspected that she was the one who created the candies piled on the countless shelves of the shop. 

‘Dear, just go on with yer work!’ the husband said. 

Mrs. Flume huffed as her blue heels that were placed on her small feet started trotting away crossily. The girls and Albert saw a different image in front of them: a crowd of hunger-thirsty students blocking their way to freedom. How would they merely pass by the crowd of students unless they bump into someone? It wasn’t like they were snakes, with sinewy bodies that could just slither through. It was a whole sea of students. 

‘Follow my lead,’ Albert said, though hesitancy creeped up his voice.  

The girls eyed each other and followed Albert, as though he was the lion, the leader and protector of the pride. They followed every step he took, as though they were a tap-dancing parade. Whenever Albert walked on his side, they did the same, so that they were millimetres apart from students. It was like they were swimming across a narrow river, taking turns every now and then and the students were meanders. Now Olivia and Albert were in front and Isabell and Amelia were at the back, slowly reaching the mouth of the river-

A grey-eyed boy with golden locks blocked their path, so that they almost bumped into him. Amelia glared at Forrest, the blood under his nose not there anymore. His nose was fixed by Madam Pomfrey.

‘I know you’re there, Amelia. I can smell you. Not following the rules, are we?’

Amelia stared at Forrest. 

He knows how I smell-

Forrest’s grey eyes locked at Amelia’s, as though picturing that she was right in front of him. He took out his wand and pointed it right at her.

‘You, young lad! What are yeh doin’ with that wand in yer hand? AND IN MY SHOP?’ the owner of the shop fumed, pointing a dirty finger at Forrest. 

‘Nothing. Just checking that no one is here when they’re not supposed to be.’

Forrest slipped his wand back inside his robe’s pocket and gave one last look at the trio and Albert, silently hidden under the snakeskin cloak. 

‘That’s what I thought, laddie. On with yeh and yer overgrown body,’ Mr. Flume barked. 

‘I’ll be back,’ Forrest whispered, leaning towards the trio and Albert so that no one could hear him but them.

Forrest walked away, clearing the path for the trio and Albert. They reached the mouth of the river, opening the doors as though creating a dramatic great exit. They saw the snow outside, the chill going up their spines as soon as they got out of Honeydukes. They decided to go to The Three Broomsticks, which sold drinks such as butterbeer. They sat down on a round table in the corner, as it was very hidden and there was a low chance someone would spot them. They took off the snakeskin cloak, shivering with the cold that entered as the doors of The Three Broomsticks opened.  A girl with bushy hair, brown eyes and a serious face entered the inn. She was closely followed by a girl with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes, with a day-dreaming smile on her face. A woman that seemed oddly familiar to the trio and Albert entered. She had blonde short curls that framed her pale-skinned face, dull green eyes looking nervous as she followed the two girls in front of her. The woman’s thin brows were arched, examining the inn. 

‘Are you sure this is the correct place to do such an important interview?’ the woman asked as she and the girls seated themselves on a table. 

‘Yes, Rita, I’m certain,’ Hermione Granger said annoyedly. 

‘You know, daddy will be pleased when we finish with the interview. The Quibbler will be read by many, I’m sure of it,’ the blonde-haired girl spoke dreamily, beaming at Hermione and Rita Skeeter, ex-writer of the Daily Prophet. 

A few seconds later, Forrest entered, his lips twisted into a grin, seemingly knowing that the trio and Albert had come here. Before he walked over to sit on a table, he scanned the room to see if they were uncovered. He realised they were invisible again.

‘Not him again!’ Isabell whisper-shouted as they hastily covered themselves with the snakeskin cloak. ‘This guy is obsessed with us!’

‘You mean obsessed with Amelia,’ Olivia corrected, looking at Forrest in pure loath.

Forrest looked around and sniffed the air. He smelled the same smell of sweet-smelling lavender that had entered his lungs in Honeydukes. His grin grew wider and he looked at their table. He sat on the table directly opposite them and placed his elbows on the table. His chin was on his palms. His glimmering grey eyes slowly looked in their direction, making Amelia shiver from the sharpness in them. A mirror behind the inn reflected the cosy atmosphere, and popular drinks such as Butterbeer and Firewhiskey were served in glasses and in foaming pewter tankards, as well as gillywater, Mulled Mead, red currant rum, and even cherry syrup and soda with ice and an umbrella. A middle-aged lady with shoulder-length curled hair and green eyes came up to Forrest. Seeing the lady with Forrest made it seem as though she were his mother from the similarity of their hair. Her skin was very light beige and she had a cheerful smile on her face. 

‘Landlady of The Three Broomsticks, famed for her good looks and mostly mulled mead,’ Isabell muttered as they looked at the lady and Forrest. ‘Madam Rosmerta.’

Forrest looked at their direction then looked at Madam Rosmerta. 

‘Anything for you?’ Madam Rosmerta said kindly. 

‘Cherry syrup, please,’ Forrest said, looking again at the place the trio and Albert were seated, as though expecting them to move. 

‘Right you are,’ Madam Rosmerta said gleefully as she walked away, wiping her hands on her brown apron.

‘Too bad we won’t drink Butterbeer,’ Isabell sadly said. 

‘Who said?’ Olivia whispered back. 

She either forgot Forrest was right there or she ignored the fact he was there. She got herself out of the cloak and sat on the chair, tapping her feet on the floor. Forrest looked at her interestingly. 

‘Dragonheart. You do realise what you’re doing,’ Forrest said, grinning wickedly. 

‘I do, considering I actually have a brain, unlike you.’ 

Forrest didn’t say anything. 

‘You just revealed yourself to me,’ he said after a while of thinking.

‘Can’t I? You think I’d hide under a cloak, afraid of getting expelled? So what if I get expelled? It’s not like Umbridge is making me have second thoughts.’ 

‘Well, now I can get to your supposedly best friend. Is she really your best friend? Because I see her sitting alone a lot.’

Madam Rosmerta came to Forrest before Olivia could say anything. Isabell was holding Amelia, banning her from putting all her anger on Forrest. 

‘It’s what he wants you to do!’ Isabell whisper-shouted. 

‘No, he wants me to fall in love with him. As if that’s possible,’ Amelia argued.

Madam Rosmerta gave Forrest his cherry syrup, then approached Olivia. 

‘Want anything, dear?’

‘Four butterbeers.’

‘Why do you need four?’ Madam Rosmerta asked. ‘Not that I’m being nosy, dear, but I’m just curious.’

‘Uh… I have friends that are coming and I want to prepare the drinks for when they arrive,’ Olivia lied nervously, and Forrest looked at her with his brows arched.

‘I won’t tell Umbridge you’re here if you give me Amelia,’ he whispered when Madam Rosmerta had left to get the drinks.

‘I'm not trading my friend for-’ began Olivia. 

‘GIVE YOU? GIVE YOU?’ Amelia thundered, uncovering herself and drawing her wand. ‘FOR YOUR INFORMATION, I’M NOT A TOY TO BE PLAYED AROUND WITH!’

‘Bird got out of the nest, I see,’ Forrest sobered, looking at Amelia with a calm expression on his face.

‘YOU-’

Forrest grabbed her arms, which made her lean to him. 

‘Let go of me, you dirty animal!’ said Amelia, struggling.

Forrest merely laughed.

‘I can call Umbridge… or… you know the other option.’

‘What’s the other option?’ demanded Amelia, breathing heavily.

‘Ah, it’s just… a… kiss.’

‘No!’ two voices yelled. 

It was Isabell and Olivia, pointing their wands at him. Albert was also pointing his wand at Forrest and he seemed to be the only one who was actually looking at him.

‘Hear, hear,’ Forrest said, letting go of Amelia, who tumbled down on the ground, and standing up. ‘Have it your way. Oh, Professor! Professor Umbridge!’

They heard heels tapping against the concrete floor of the steps to the inn. The trio and Albert quickly covered themselves with the snakeskin cloak. Isabell grabbed Amelia and swiftly hid her underneath the enlarged cloak. Umbridge appeared at the doorway, followed by Flitwick, Mcgonagall and Snape, who all looked uninterested and clearly not willing to follow the High Inquisitor like dogs on a leash.

‘Good job, Forrest. Fifty points to Slytherin. Now, where are they?’ Umbridge demanded, her eyes darting around in every direction possible.

‘Under a snakeskin cloak,’ Forrest said, puffing his chest proudly, expecting the teachers to congratulate him for the outstanding job he had performed-

‘So, you didn’t actually see them?’ Snape asked in an irritated and cold tone, his lips curling.

‘I-I did! They covered themselves with it just right now!’ Forrest assured them. 

‘Well, I have an important lesson to teach now regarding a subject in the incoming N.E.W.T exam for the seventh year students, Dolores,’ Mcgonagall said tetchily, her nostrils flaring and her brows almost forming a severe line. 

‘They’re here! I can sense them!’ snapped Umbridge, daring the professors to move. 

‘I think Mr. Osborn is having hallucinations, so he better be sent to the Hospital wing,’ Professor Flitwick said, eyeing the exact place the trio and Albert silently stood.

‘No-no! I-I’m not lying!’ yelled Forrest as Professor Mcgonagall dragged him by the arms. ‘They’re right there!’ he added, pointing at the place the trio and Albert stood.

Umbridge pointed her wand at the place where Forrest was pointing. She smiled wickedly, expecting the trio and Albert to be exposed right on the spot-

Nobody was where Umbridge furiously pointed her wand at. Umbridge’s face reddened, then returned to its pale self as she firmly straightened her black bow on her brown curls. She walked away, her heels angrily hitting the black concrete floor of the inn. She pushed the door open with one hand and walked away. Madam Rosmerta came, with four dirty glasses of butterbeer in a silver tray. 

‘Dear, I’ve gotten your or-’ 

Madam Rosmerta frowned in confusion, looking at the table where Olivia had sat. 

‘Must have left. Should give these to the young lads over there,’ Madam Rosmerta said to herself, a smile forming on her face as she approached four Gryffindor boys. 

The doorbell rang. Madam Rosmerta jerked her head. 

Nobody had entered. 

Nobody had exited. 

Or was there?