The Great Hall was full of exhausted faces from the previous night but it was a merry All Saints Day and students were still making the most of their weekend. I tucked in next to Darwinnia who was sitting with Lilac Loomsbury, a seventh year who had been tutoring my dorm mate (and me, when I loitered around their sessions) this term. Darwinnia had brought out some new textbooks for next year and we began poring over them interestedly. Included among them was Arithmancy IV, Astronomy, and Intermediate Muggle Studies.
“You should get yourself the new set of textbooks before next term starts,” Lilac said, turning toward me. “It’s never too early to get ahead.”
I thought about that as I stole glimpses at the fourth year texts enviously. I’d love to have them now, but there was just no rhyme or reason for me to buy them, really. It would probably only distract from my current studies, and I had no idea when I would find the time to visit Diagon Alley. Darwinnia knew if I hadn’t bought them with my other books in September like her, I wouldn’t be getting them now. I always spent holidays at Hogwarts, and was slated to do so this year as well.
Before leaving the Great Hall I turned down the aisle to say hello to the Weasley twins but found they weren’t at the Gryffindor table. Must’ve gone off to Hogsmeade already - or been found out and finally expelled. The twins always got into plenty of trouble, detention was kind of their trademark thing, but what they didn’t realize was that everyone around them were anxious about what seemed to be the inevitable day they would overdo it and get kicked out of Hogwarts. But they never did, or hadn’t yet, so I dissuaded the issue from my mind. Sergius was seated at Slytherin table deep in conversation. I didn’t want to interrupt him, but also wasn’t quite up to the cold walk to the village all alone for once, and so retired to the only non-moving marble staircase in the Entrance Hall, pulling a paperback book out of my pocket.
I read whilst listening and watching students and teachers passing by. Most of them didn’t notice me as usual, except to step around me when going up or down the stairs. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick passed by me on their way to Hogsmeade and I began to feel like my village time might be running out. Just as I was about to snap my book shut and head out into the chilly air alone, Sergius emerged from the Great Hall with another Slytherin boy. It took all of my courage not to let him pass right by me. As he pulled on his fur hat and bid farewell to his friend I leaped down from my resting spot on the steps and snuck up behind him.
“Guess who?” I said, standing on tiptoe to place my hands over his eyes. I could feel his cheeks turn up in a smile as he pried my fingers away and turned to face me. He laughed and pulled me in for a hug and to my blushing surprise, a kiss. Taking the crumpled candy wrapper out of my pocket I showed it to him.
“You didn’t eat one of these things last night, did you?”
“No,” he replied, waving it away. “I don’t need magical hangover cures.”
“Oh.”
He laughed again and took my hand.
We reminisced the whole way to Hogsmeade, about the boggart; about our greatest fears; the firewhiskey, and when we reached Honeyduke’s he refilled my chest of sweets himself. I commented that I’d like some sour apple pasties this time, and he put on a show of making sure the ‘princess’ got whatever she wanted. My cheeks were so red by the time we’d left the shop I had wished it were colder outside.

I didn’t see much of Sergius that week since we were sat with different houses and in separate years, but we’d taken to conveniently running into each other throughout the day, and on Friday afternoon I stood again outside his astronomy class.
That day was a much awaited match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin and the school was quickly emptying onto the Quidditch pitch while Sergius and I strolled along the courtyard. Music was trumpeting from the stands already as we nonchalantly crossed the tunnel bridge to the village together for the fourth time.
I conjured a bluebell flame into a jar for warmth and held it tightly as we took in the grey surroundings of Hogsmeade. I was eager to get in somewhere warm, but something in the distance had already caught Sergius’ eye.
“What’s that?”
He was motioning down the hill toward the Shrieking Shack. It was a dilapidated little building, dark and older than Hogsmeade itself. Thin and rickety, its whitewashed, peeling structure stood tall below the hill of Hogsmeade.
“It’s supposed to be haunted,” I replied.
“Oh yeah, we’re going over there.”
He started down the winding path and pulled me by the hand after him. I’d entered the Shrieking Shack only once before to check out the secret entrance/exit to the castle grounds that came out beneath the Whomping Willow. It was on the Marauder’s Map, but Fred and George had written it off as impassable, since it appeared the vicious tree was planted above to block it. I took it upon my own to discover, but didn’t end up following it very far for the filth and claustrophobia. I’d left the crumbling structure within minutes of arriving.
As the creaking door swung shut behind us I looked around at the rotting floorboards and spotted the loose one I’d pulled up to find the hidden room. While Sergius wandered over to a dusty window looking back up toward the castle grounds I stood quite still, listening to the faint whistle blows from the far off match and the roar of the crowd; the breeze rattling the shutters.
“I don’t know if it’s really haunted,” I stated apologetically. “It’s just that when the wind whips through here sometimes it sounds like someone is screaming.” He didn’t reply but raised an eyebrow and continued to look around the room.
When he turned his back to me to examine the tiny fireplace, covered in soot and ash, I knelt down and silently lifted the floorboard out of place, revealing the ring that lifts a trap door. I was halfway through the opening when he made to turn around but then caught something out the foggy window. Hurriedly I jumped down into the dark cellar and let the door bang closed after me. I heard his footsteps shuffle above as he whirled around.
There was a brief silence, then, “Candie?” I stifled a giggle in my sleeve. Nobody had called me that since I was a little girl. It was always ‘Candace’ with my family, or ‘Twyla’ at school. More silence. “Miss Twyla,” he called.
“Oooooooh,” I crowed. “I’m a ghost!”
“Where are you?” I could picture his face, strong brow furrowed, mouth turned up to one side. Just then I heard him trip over the missing floorboard and knew I was busted.
When he flung open the trapdoor I was standing under it, smiling mischievously up at him.
“Well two can play at that game,” he said, jumping down after me, his boots hitting the dirt ground with a dusty thud.
We were in a cellar of sorts that had a low dirt tunnel leading up, I expected, to the roots of the Whomping Willow. The flame jar in my hands was already quickly filling the room with warmth and after Sergius had taken a quick look around, he lifted it easily from my fingers and placed it on a crate in the corner. Then he started moving quicker than I could process and his mouth was on mine. He pulled off my coat and his hat fell to the ground. I wrapped my arms around his neck and tried to return his passion by pulling him closer toward me. Getting excited, I pulled too hard, his weight hit me, and we fell onto the cold, hard floor.
He laughed and picked a dead leaf out of my hair. I smiled embarrassedly and he kissed me again, slipping his tongue in my mouth. He very smoothly moved my coat under me, pressing down until I laid flat on top of it, then pulled back and looked down at me.
I gulped, and just as his fingers started to brush up beneath my t-shirt there was a startling BANG. Somebody else had come into the shrieking shack.
As his attention went to the trapdoor I scrambled out from under him and sat myself up. We listened. Feet were shuffling above us, and I wondered who besides Sergius and me would be missing the Quidditch match of the season to visit the Shrieking Shack. There was a sigh, and the sound of somebody collapsing down into the dusty armchair across from the vacant hearth.
Sergius turned to me with his eyebrows raised, his full lips disappearing while his mouth turned up to the side. I knew what he was thinking: it was the ghost!
I chuckled soundlessly and shook my head at him. The Shrieking Shack wasn’t really haunted, and even if it was, so what? Sergius practically spent every meal sitting next to the gory ghost of the Bloody Baron, what was he so worried about? I knew no one could possibly be worse than the Grey Lady, the spirit that haunted Ravenclaw tower. She was a miserable thing, like a grown up Moaning Myrtle, only she had a wicked temper and could become really quite terrifying. It was most upsetting to many Ravenclaw students, because in life she was in fact our house founder Rowena Ravenclaw’s daughter, Helena. So much knowledge lost in the depths of despair.
After a few minutes of sitting in absolute silence, I became worried we would eventually be found out, leading to this tunnel being realized and drawing attention from teachers and students alike.
I fished in my coat pocket for my wand, brought it out and whispered, as quietly as possible, cupping my hand around my mouth, “Insulato”.
A glimmering bubble appeared around us in the tiny space and I heaved a sigh of relief.
“I don’t think they can hear us now. But what about the floorboard-”
Sergius had flattened me almost instantly again and was pulling my sleeve down my shoulder; slipping off his parka. I was breathing heavily as he laid a trail of kisses along my bare belly and my eyes had started to flutter. Suddenly the armchair above us pushed back and its screeching legs against the creaking floorboards made us jump. Sergius had started running his hand along my thigh when a familiar voice, clear as day, rang out.
“I know you’re down there,” Professor Lupin said, his relaxed drawl lilting without a trace of anger. “I’ll implore you not to spend much time down there, or to follow the tunnel you surely have noticed. Despite whatever strange rumours you may have heard, the Shrieking Shack is indeed a dangerous place. It has been ever since I was a young student at Hogwarts, like you.” His footsteps moved lightly over us, filtering dirt through the creases in the floor to shower down on us.
Just before the door swung open, emitting a howl from the cold air outside, he added, “Don’t come back again,” and then we were alone.
Terrified from our near brush with trouble, especially from a Professor I respected as much as Remus Lupin, I grabbed my wand and jabbed it through the soundproof bubble I’d created. It popped and shimmered down to the floor around us.
“We’ll wait a couple minutes, then go. We can walk around the hill to avoid running into him in the village,” I whispered hurriedly, tugging my coat on and dropping my wand back into the pocket. Sergius looked crestfallen and was silent for a while, unmoving. I stood and waited for him to sigh, pull himself to his feet. He gave me a weak smile and I felt very sad, but it wasn’t my fault. We had to leave. I pushed the trapdoor open and he gave me an unneeded leg up, then we walked together in silence back up to the school. We never returned to the Shrieking Shack again.
Slytherin won the match and we were met by many cheers from Moonblood’s classmates as we rejoined with the Quidditch crowd heading into the school.

There was a raucous party in the Slytherin common room that night and I watched briefly from the porthole while the Weasley Twins and I went exploring the Marauder’s Map with Thackery Binx at our heels, or most of the time, leading the way.
“Those evil gits are lucky we needed Ravenclaw to lose to keep Gryffindor in the running,” Fred chuffed. “No offense, Twy.”
“You know I don’t care about Quidditch,” I replied. “But you shouldn’t talk about other people that way.” The twins rolled their eyes.
“And you shouldn’t talk about Quidditch that way,” added George.
“I wasn’t even there,” I said proudly. The twins stopped in their tracks ahead of me and looked at each other in mock surprise.
“As if we didn’t notice?” They said. “You’ve had no time for us since that Sergius came in,” Fred said, pointing an accusing finger at my chest. I blushed and fought back my embarrassment.
“Hey, I look for you all the time and you’re never around. I didn’t catch you two at breakfast this morning!”
“Ugh,” George scoffed. “Filch gave us a detention.”
“Just for setting up a few dungbombs in the fourth floor lavatory-”
“Stupid squib-”
“Can’t use magic to clean up.”
I stamped my foot down. “You should know better than to use that word,” I hissed, “muggles can be wizard-born just as often as it is the other way around. It’s not his fault.”
“And what about that time Mrs Norris tried to kill your Binx?” Fred threw in.
“Oh, everyone’s pets are just as protective of their owners as we are of them,” I said. Then I felt a bit awkward because Fred and George didn’t have any pets, unless you count the Weasley family owl, Errol, but he was so old and feeble he usually needed to be carried by another owl himself to deliver any post.
Then I thought of Sergius and realized I’d never asked him if he had a pet, or if he was even allowed to keep a familiar at Durmstrang. I already knew he didn’t have an owl and he never mentioned a cat when we spied Binky through the porthole on Halloween. A toad maybe? I made a mental note to bring it up this weekend. When I finally did bid farewell to the twins and slipped through the Ravenclaw portrait hole just in time for curfew, Binx joined me to cuddle on the couch in front of the fire. I read and reread my first year charms book for comfort until we both fell asleep.
On Monday morning in Transfiguration Professor McGonagall had begun taking sign-ups from students going home for the holidays. I usually preferred to stay as the castle became more quiet and empty during the break; I also didn’t much like being at home. Like the Weasleys, I too had a very large family, populated by aunts and uncles and second cousins and grandparents and siblings and family friends and our narrow house was always full. The whole town was crawling with my family members, like lacewing flies. I preferred to distance myself from people who claimed that they knew me. I wasn’t missed much.
However, the day before while Sergius and I were sitting together on the steps of the Entrance Hall, the topic had come up when I asked about his home.
“So you couldn’t even keep a toad?” I inquired upon hearing keeping pets at Durmstrang Institute was not common.
“There are plenty of dangerous creatures around the grounds to learn from. Keeping a cute companion would be seen as a weakness; silly,” he answered.
“Is it very different up there? Where you’re from?”
“You could come find out if you want…” he added, taking my hand in his lap.
I laughed. “Yeah, maybe one day, hopefully.”
He furrowed his brow.
“Come back with me,” he said, “for Christmas.”
“To Durmstrang?” I asked confusedly.
“No, beautiful. My home.”
“You’re going home for the holidays?” It hadn’t occurred to me that that was an option for him. The Hogwarts Express took students back to King’s Cross Station in London to meet up with their families. Where would Sergius go?
He looked down at me seriously and brushed a lock of hair behind my ear. A grin split across my face so fast it made my cheeks hurt and I threw my arms around his neck in a tight hug.
He laughed again and said, “Okay. You come with me then.”
So for the first time in my three years at Hogwarts I strode confidently over to Professor McGonagall’s desk and signed my name with her enormous eagle feather quill.
“Miss Twyla!” she said incredulously, gazing up at me through her half moon spectacles. “I don’t believe you’ve ever left us for the holidays.”
I couldn’t suppress an excited smile and she looked at me suspiciously.
“I’m going to the north with Mr Moonblood, professor!” I whispered. She patted my hand and motioned me aside with the quill.
“Congratulations, dear.”
I scampered off to join the rest of the class as we practiced transforming a tortoise into a teacup and, if we felt capable, back into a tortoise again. I got it, but my teacup kept sliding slowly along the tabletop like it was going somewhere.
I tried to suppress my happy little secret over the weeks to come so I could focus on my studies and properly prepare for end of term exams. As usual my dorm mates were highly irritated that I didn’t join their study groups but I found myself daydreaming more and more, and couldn’t listen to them quiz each other anymore, keeping a page of doodles under all my colour coded notes with urgent little memos like ‘don’t forget to stop at Gringott’s’ and ‘bring yule ball dress’.
Sergius hadn’t yet gotten tired of my constant cooing to Binky, whom I had never been apart from since I got him as a kitten the autumn before first year. The Weasley twins were going back to the Burrow for Christmas and therefore wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on him. I’d determined, however, that he would probably barely notice that I was gone. As long as he steered clear of Mrs Norris, he would be fine.
One evening while I was reading over my Divination notebook by the fire, I came upon a prediction Professor Trelawney practically handed to me when we were still doing tea leaves.
“A dragon,” she said, turning my cup round and round in her bony hands. “And what’s this?” I looked into the damp little teacup and tried to clear my mind.
“A road?”
“A river!” she exclaimed. I was writing this all down fervently. “An abrupt change of habit, my dear. Your river, big or small, may very well change current. And the dragon…?” she trailed off.
“Dragon is, uhm, opportunity and danger,” I answered.
“Excellent reading Miss Twyla, five points to Ravenclaw,” she murmured as she moved on to the next table.
This prediction stuck out to me now and it didn’t help with keeping my mind off the coming holidays.
I finished revising tea leaves then snapped my book shut and carried all my things up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. Darwinnia, Iris, and Phoebe were all out at the library cramming until curfew so I took advantage of the solitude and indulged myself a little. I hauled my trunk out from under the bed and began digging through all my clothes and belongings, considering each carefully, imagining whether or not I would be needing it on my trip.
I hadn’t yet bothered to ask Sergius how we would be getting from Platform Nine and Three Quarters to the north as I thought he might be offended by my ignorance. It was also a common trait among Ravenclaws not to divulge what you don’t know. I pulled out my little sheet of memos and realized I’d added a new course to my studies: leaving Hogwarts for the holidays.

On the day of exams, Sergius kissed me for good luck. He was taking his O.W.L.S (Ordinary Wizarding Levels) and his grade would determine his eligibility to take the seventh year N.E.W.T.S (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests). It wasn’t necessary to graduate but having passed your N.E.W.T.S was considered a great achievement.
The snow fell in heavy blankets over the grounds that weekend while everyone discussed their grades. Sergius passed all his O.W.L.S and my lowest mark was an eighty-three percent in Arithmancy.
Hagrid gave me a pat on the back after his exam and told me he’d seen Binx hunting down around his hut; said he “kept the flobberworms at bay”.
With the relief of exams over students had started flooding into Hogsmeade for some last minute shopping. I still needed to pick up gifts, so at breakfast in the Great Hall on Saturday I ate quickly, strolled up to the Slytherin table where Sergius was only halfway through his second coffee, and kissed him tenderly on the cheek.
“I’ll see you later today, okay?” I said cheerily. He seemed about to protest but I quickly skipped off and out of the hall.
The tunnel bridge to Hogsmeade was packed with students and I had to manoeuvre through them all roughly to avoid being turned around.
When I reached the village the first place I ducked into was The Three Broomsticks to find Hagrid and hand him the handmade holiday card I’d put together for him last night. The front read ‘Happy Christmas’ in large glowing letters like candlelight, and when it was opened a Hippogriff with a wreath around its neck bowed deeply in respect. It was impossible to miss Hagrid’s enormous frame sitting at the bar chatting to Madam Rosmerta. I stood on tiptoe to pat him (more like punch him so he’d notice) on the shoulder and he turned gruffly around.
“Hi, I didn’t know if I would see you before the train comes for the holidays so, Happy Christmas, Hagrid!”
I placed the little card in his hands. He looked about to cry when he saw the Hippogriff with the same colouring as his old pet, Beaky, and gave me a backbreaking hug. I said goodbye to Madam Rosmerta and ushered myself out of the pub before I could waste any daylight on butterbeer.
Next stop was Zonko’s Joke Shop for a couple of gifts for Fred and George. I hadn’t made them a card because I thought they’d make fun of me for it, so I chose two vividly wrapped mystery boxes from the tower in the centre of the store and had one decorated with a glittery red ‘F’ and a sparkling green ‘G’ on the other.
I had to wait in line to get into Honeyduke’s it was so packed with people buying sweets for the season. A group of Hufflepuffs were queued in front of me, shivering in their robes. Just as I was entering the shop, cursing myself for not having foreseen this setback and used the secret passageway behind the one eyed witch that led right into Honeyduke’s cellar, I spied Binx weaving his way through people’s legs. Maybe he was going to miss me after all! Had he followed me here? I scooped him up where he sat, licking his paw, and he let me hold him for a bit before struggling free and disappearing.
I picked out three large, swirly lavender lollipops for my roommates, each tied with a brilliant blue ribbon which I could leave on their beds while they were out studying that night and then queued up for the checkout.
Just as I’d finished counting out my sickles for the shop owner, Mr Flume, there was a loud bang as the cellar door swung shut and I suddenly understood how and why Binx had shown up here. The Weasley Twins came strolling out with, to my embarrassment, Sergius in tow.
I hadn’t yet picked up a present for him. I tried to collect my purchases and slip out of the store undetected but I heard a tell tale tutting behind me and knew I’d been spotted.
“Well, look who it is!” Fred exclaimed.
“All these sweets will rot your teeth,” said George.
“They’re not for me!” I cried in retort.
“Ah well-”
“Let’s have ‘em then,” they continued.
I threw the lollies into my shopping bag and turned my nose up at them. I hadn’t yet looked at Sergius and could feel my cheeks starting to burn already. They followed me out of the shop and Sergius threw his arm around me, leaning down to give me a cheery kiss on the cheek not unlike the one I’d given him that morning.
“We were just thinking of heading down to the Shrieking Shack,” one of the twins started.
“Never did try that pathway.”
“No!” Sergius and I said in unison. The Weasleys looked at each other.
“Have you two developed the twin thing?” asked George, pointing back and forth between himself and his brother.
“I could use some lunch,” I said, hurriedly changing the subject.
“Let’s do that,” Sergius agreed. And so the four of us squished into a booth at the back of Rosmerta’s.
I ordered a dandelion soup and a cup of strong peppermint tea while the boys had lamb sandwiches and ale. The twins seemed to have some credit with Rosmerta, or maybe it was friendly pity, because she did not make them pay afterward.
I let Sergius try a sip of soup from my spoon and the twins rolled their eyes and made gagging noises. The steam from my lunch made my blush return and as we left The Three Broomsticks I felt much warmer despite all the cold and snow.
Sergius didn’t leave my side for the rest of the day and I didn’t particularly want him to, so I resolved to owl-order him something since we wouldn’t be stopping in Diagon Alley - I didn’t think.

On Sunday I packed a small pale blue suitcase I usually reserved for my textbooks for the train at nine a.m. Monday morning.
I chose the warmest clothes I had, but took the opportunity to lay a charm on all of them (Fleecio!) so that they would all feel fleece-lined. My parka pockets were lined with the Weasleys’ gifts, my Honeyduke’s sweet chest, and my little savings from Gringott’s, all magically miniaturized.
When I came down the marble staircase the next morning Sergius was standing there waiting. I felt kind of silly lugging my suitcase when he didn’t even appear to be taking anything. When he took my bag from me I noticed he was holding a staff made of long dark oak which knotted and gnarled at the top. I’d never seen it before. I thought he looked absolutely majestic walking around with it as we headed down the grounds toward the billowing smoke of the Hogwarts Express, but he seemed annoyed if not uncomfortable with the attention it was getting from everyone else.
“If you want, I could shrink it and carry it in my pocket like my wand.”
He seemed extremely averse to this and I almost apologized for asking but then he turned to face me and held it out at arm’s length; nodded his head. I flicked my wand quickly and it disappeared in his hands. He nodded sadly and dropped the beautiful wand-sized staff into my pocket, then took my hand with his free one and we boarded the train.
I’d never seen the Hogwarts Express so empty. Sure, about seventy-five percent of students were going home for the holidays, but that remaining twenty-five really made a difference. Sergius and I were able to secure a compartment to ourselves.
“Do you like it?” I asked him excitedly as the train started up and we watched the castle grounds disappear out of view.
“Yeah,” he answered. “It’s pretty.”
“Where are you from?” I asked abruptly. I had been trying to find words to ask specifically where we were going with some tact but I ended up just blurting it out.
He looked back at me coolly and repeated, “Where are you from?”
When I thought about how difficult a question that really is I faltered. I tried to sum it up and failed, opening and closing my mouth more than once. He chuckled watching my expressions.
“We’re going to my parents’ house on Svalbard,” he answered.
“Oh. Do you always go home for Christmas?”
“No, we’re not provided that option at Durmstrang. I haven’t been home for Christmas in six years.”
“Oh,” I said again, sadly. “Do you have any siblings?”
“No.”
“What do you do in the summers?” He smiled at me. “What?”
His grin was infectious, and I couldn’t stop myself from smiling back. He shook his head then continued.
“I don’t know. Sometimes work; travel. See friends. Then back to school. It’s not very long.”
“And this is your first time in Scotland?” I asked, promising myself it would be the last for now in this long line of questioning. He nodded and looked out the window at the rapidly passing rolling green hills.
The Weasley twins burst into our compartment about a half hour later, dressed in fuzzy sweaters I knew Mrs Weasley must have knitted for them last year.
“Alrigh’, Twy? Sergius?” they said, shaking hands. “What’ve you two lovebirds been up to-”
“Riding first class?”
I blushed uncomfortably and buried my hands in my pockets. Then I felt the little boxes and remembered.
“Oh! I’ve got a couple presents for you lot.” As I dug through the assortment of shrunken material the twins sat down on either side of Sergius and I, squishing us up against the window. I pulled out the two miniscule boxes and placed them in front of me, smacking Fred’s hand as he tried to reach for one. I’d left the lollipops for my dorm mates on their nightstands the night before.
“Wait,” I hissed.
I pulled out my wand and pointed it - then realized I was holding Sergius’ miniaturized staff.
“Oh, sorry,” I stammered, placing it back carefully into my pocket to pull out my own wand: twelve and a quarter inches, unicorn tail hair core, hard vine wood. I waved it over the boxes and they instantly jumped back to proper size.
“There you are,” I said, sliding the lettered box over to the corresponding twin. “Now promise me you won’t open them before-” The twins had already begun tearing the obnoxiously bright paper off and were prying the lids off their packages “-Christmas,” I finished. Sergius laughed.
“Flying Wing Bombs!” they exclaimed.
“Fizzy werthers!”
“Beastly Bertie Botts!”
“Lemon Leafies!”
“Cherry Charmings!”
They’d begun swapping the contents of their presents expertly until they’d completely changed them around.
“You mixed up our packages!” Fred beamed.
“Well I didn’t know what was in them,” I started.
“You’ll regret these Squirting Posies,” added George. I sighed.
Once they’d finished rooting through their gifts the four of us sat uncomfortably for a moment. The Weasleys couldn’t really afford to give presents, so now I felt kind of bad putting them on the spot. I leaned forward and whispered to the twins.
“If you leave now, I’ll consider us even.” They smiled sincerely and then returned to their mischievous grins.
“We’ll get you back for this, Twyla!”
“Just you wait and see!” And the compartment door closed with a bang after them.
Sergius patted the now vacant spot next to him and said, “Come here.” I stood and sat beside him and he laid an arm over my shoulders. Habitually I looked down at my hands and played with my fingers. He raised my chin and looked into my eyes, holding my gaze for a couple of seconds, then smiled.
“So what did you get for me?”
I looked back down at my hands and giggled. Then the perfect gift occurred to me: I’d seen it in Knockturn Alley while I was buying my school supplies in August. I was too afraid to go in and take a better look, but it was a beautiful little handmade and bewitched trinket. Thinking of it already reminded me of him. I didn’t want Sergius to know I hadn’t picked up a gift yet so I tried to naturally segue into somehow dropping by the Leaky Cauldron in downtown London before we left.
“Do I have time to show you around London for a bit once we get off the train?” I asked. He thought about it then nodded with a sly smile.
“We could spare some time.”
I was contented with this answer but also very curious; what mode of transportation would we be taking to the North all the way from London that could wait a few hours?
When the trolley lady came by in the afternoon with a cart full of sandwiches and sweets we turned her down and instead gorged ourselves on my still full sweet chest from Honeyduke’s. He was hesitant to take any from me so I began insisting he try all my favourites and tell me which one he liked best. He loved the Blueberry Snappers but didn’t care much for my Rosepetal Welties.
I rested my head on his shoulder afterwards with a stomach full of fruity sugar and closed my eyes. We dozed for a great deal of the train ride and I was awakened more than once by his snores. He reminded me of a sleeping dragon, especially when we approached London and one of his eyes cracked open to find me staring up at him dreamily, studying his face. When I noticed I squealed in surprise. He chuckled and turned my head back towards the window, laying his strong chin atop my fluffy tresses.
After a long train ride of napping and sweets I was bursting with energy and excitement as Sergius hauled my suitcase off of Platform Nine and Three Quarters.
“So,” he said. “Where are we going?”
“Come with me!” I skipped along ahead of him.