Plot Twist

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Obviously I had been right... Fred, George and Lee had been in hysterics when I told them. They still were... and it had been a bloody week.

I was sat next to Angelina Johnson in Transfiguration, scribbling some notes down on my parchment. Looking up to the blackboard, I could see that McGonagall had turned around to check something in a book so it shouldn't have come as a surprise when an enchanted note in the shape of a flying bird flew straight into my head.

Rubbing the sore spot angrily, I unfolded the note and glared down at it.

"So what's happening? When? Where? Can me and George join? We won't interrupt anything, we promise ;) - F"

I sighed. As much as we had joked about it, Oliver and I definitely hadn't been on a walk or a date of any sort the day after the Quidditch lesson, and we hadn't actually spoken about the date anymore. We hadn't spoken about anything actually; if I ever saw him, I was either dragged away or too stubbornly shy to make the first move. I had decided that if he actually wanted to pursue this, he would come to me. But he hadn't. And I was beginning to question if all these jokes about it with Fred and George were making me clasp onto a hope that didn't actually exist.

I scrunched the note up with one clasp of my first and watched it fall to the desk in front of me.

When McGonagall dismissed us, I grabbed my book and practically ran from the classroom. Fred and George had obviously been waiting for a reaction; an eye roll, a fist slam, a note back, anything, but that reaction hadn't come. This meant they'd be concerned- if I didn't roll my eyes at something they did, it meant they either weren't funny or I was upset... and they didn't often stop and think the first one could possibly be an option.

My thinking was proved correct as I attempted to cross the Transfiguration courtyard to reach the portrait to the grand staircase, only to hear yellings of my name behind me.

"Ava! Ava! Get out of the bloody way! Ava! Come on, Ava! Wait for us!"

But I didn't. I couldn't. I didn't want to talk about this because I knew it'd only upset me. It was times like these that, although I loved Fred, George and Lee dearly, I wished I had more girl friends. Ones I could gossip with and share my concerns about boys and so on. It just felt weird talking about it in front of the guys- I felt like I was being judged, despite their protests, or that I was being a burden, perhaps going on about it too much. Talking or even complaining about guys was a girly thing for sure; you could think that the conversation had ended amicably and yet they could bring it up a week later and you wouldn't be annoyed. With guys I feel like they think when the conversation's finished, it's finished, not that you've temporarily given up. Maybe I should try to befriend Angelina...

Nevertheless I continued on towards the portrait, muttering the password to get through and ignoring the "Hold the door, mate" that echoed down the passageway behind me. I was greeted by the familiar swingings of the staircase and I knew exactly which to take to get back to the common room. When I had reached there, I was closer to my bed; closer to refuge. Not even the guys could reach me there; not with the staircase turning into a ramp if boys tried to get up it.

I thought I knew the quickest way, anyway...

It turns out I didn't.

Fred and George caught me just outside the common room.

"Ava, come on, what's happened?" Fred asked, out of breath but with eyes full of concern.

"Honestly, we don't care if he's the captain, Ava. If he's done something we won't hesitate to "accidentally" hit a bludger in his direction in the next Quidditch match," George looked serious which was both heart-warming and frightening...

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