four months later
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November 5th, 1995
"ARE YOU SURE I can come in?"
"Yeah, yeah, of course!"
Daisy carefully walked into Vincent's room at the Louvre's and claimed the empty seat by his study desk. Which didn't look like a study desk, since more than half of it was occupied by stacks of carefully curated music casettes. The boy himself was busy folding and unfolding clothes, placing and displacing them in an opened suitcase laying on his bed. She began, "You do... realize that you're not going until new year, don't you? It's still two months away."
"I know!" Vincent exclaimed, "But I should prepare myself in advance, you know. It's really hard determining which clothes to bring and which to leave. What do you think—"
He raised a mud-colored winter coat and a pair of washed-out blue jeans, placing them adjacently with his body.
"This, or—"
He threw the coat and picked up a puffy jacket in the color navy.
"This?"
Daisy laughed, "Either one is fine."
"Because I'm a fine gentleman, I know."
"Hey, Jane!"
Daisy immediately broke into a grin and leaned forward, closer to Vincent's unlocked phone on the pillow. "Why, hello, Taylor! I didn't know you two were in a call. Was I intruding? How are you?"
"Nah. Vince's just being fussy about his fashion while I'm studying. I'm wonderful, thanks for asking. How are you?"
"I'm good as well."
Taylor was Vincent's secret lover from New York. They were introduced quite soon after Vincent's prolong move to Devon over the phone. At first, Daisy was afraid of how Taylor would feel about her close relationship with Vincent, but the former actually suggested to put label on their unlabeled fake dates, to make the scheme more believable. Daisy and Vincent refused.
The three of them were very cool and friendly now.
"How's the homeschool and college application going?" Vincent asked.
"It's... as usual," Daisy nodded slowly, "Ms. Sloan said we have finished high-school-equivalent materials for quite awhile, so I'm getting headstart on pre-law, science, and Engineering as well. Oh, I've sent in the application!"
"Really?" Taylor cooed from the other side, "Do you expect to hear back soon?"
"Not exactly. Probably late December."
"Oh, did you hear? The Gala will be held here again," Vincent looked up from his suitcase and smiled at Daisy, "Be my date?"
"Hey, can't you at least wait until I'm not listening?"
"Honey, this is called true honesty," Vincent said, laughing. "I'm hiding nothing from you."
"Yeah, let's put some boundaries on that."
Daisy laughed at their cute interaction and her mind fleeted to her unrequited love for one second —secretly wishing that they had the chance to do things like this as well— but just for one second. "Oh, I almost forgot. Lucy bestowed her warm hello to you, too."
"Right, Lucy, hi! She's not here, is she? I've been texting her, too."
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November 18th, 1995
"THAT ZACHARIAS BLOKE'S a wart," said Ron, glowering after the figure of Zacharias Smith just discernible in the distance.
The D.A. meeting was just disbanded and boy did that Hufflepuff struck their nerves.
"I don't like him much either," Hermione admitted, "But he overheard me inviting Ernie and Hannah at the Hufflepuff table and he seemed really interested in coming, so what could I say?"
"You told me 'a couple of people'," Harry said to Hermione hoarsely, rubbing his eyes. He might be the Boy Who Lived but he wasn't the Boy Who Was Good at Speaking in Public.
"Sorry," Hermione grimaced, "But the more people the better really. I mean, Michael Corner and his friends wouldn't have come if he hadn't been going out with Ginny—"
Ron, who was draining the last few drops from his butterbeer, gagged and sprayed the drink down his front.
"He's WHAT?" Ron exclaimed, outraged. "She's going out— my sister's going— what d'you mean, Michael Corner?"
"Well, that's why he and his friends came, I think. They're obviously interested in learning defense, but if Ginny hadn't told Michael what was going on—"
"When did this— when did she?"
"They met at the Yule Ball and they got together at the end of last year," said Hermione composedly. The trio had turned into the High Street and she paused outside Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, where there was a handsome display of pheasant-feather quills in the window. "Hmm... I could do with a new quill."
She turned into the shop. Harry and Ron followed her.
"Which one was Michael Corner?" Ron demanded furiously.
"The dark one," said Hermione.
"I didn't like him," said Ron at once.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Big surprise."
"But," said Ron, following Hermione along a row of quills in copper pots, "I thought Ginny fancied Harry!"
Hermione looked at him rather pityingly and shook her head. "Ginny used to fancy Harry, but she gave up on him months ago. Not that she doesn't like you, of course."
Harry, whose head was still full of Cho Chang's parting wave, did not find this subject quite as interesting as Ron, who was positively quivering with indignation.
"So that's why she talks now?" he asked Hermione. "She never used to talk in front of me."
"Exactly," said Hermione. She went up to the counter and handed over fifteen Sickles and two Knuts in exchange for a black and gold quill, while Ron was still breathing down her neck.
"Ron," she said severely as she turned and trod on his feet, "this is exactly why Ginny hasn't told you she's seeing Michael! She knew you'd take it badly. So don't harp on about it, for heaven's sake."
"What d'you mean, who's taking anything badly? I'm not going to harp on about anything..."
Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry and then said in an undertone, while Ron was muttering imprecations about Michael Corner, "Talking about Michael and Ginny... what about Cho and you?"
"What d'you mean?" said Harry quickly, turning as red as his furious best friend.
"Well," said Hermione, smiling slightly, "she just couldn't keep her eyes off you, could she?"
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December 10th, 1995
AFTER THE ABRUPT and forceful separation, Ginny made a promise to take Daisy's last advice to her heart. To be her true, brave and cool self, to enjoy school and all its academic as well as non-academic (read: boys) problem. And it all worked out for her own good.
Last year, she was the mediocre girl who cowered at the sight of Harry Potter.
Now, she had a handsome boyfriend with whom she could have a great time with. She was excelling in her classes and D.A. lessons. And, after the incident with Malfoy's foul mouth which resulted in Harry and the twins' expulsion from the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, she was appointed Seeker. She made the team, as Daisy said, too!
And what made her feel a thousand times better was the news from her mother: for once, they would go home for Christmas.
She was about to go look for her siblings to share the good news when a commotion in the Common Room caught her attention. Apparently, it was Fred and George, so she didn't need to look any further.
It was quite usual these days.
Her twin brothers seemed to work on their Skiving Snackbox thing harder than she thought they ever could, which absorbed their devout attention from being poured to anything else.
Fred took a bite out of the orange end of a chew and began to vomit spectacularly into a bucket the twins had placed in front of them. Then, he forced down the purple end of the chew, and the vomiting ceased. Lee Jordan, who was assisting, lazily vanished the vomit at regular intervals as George, in turn, began the demonstration once more.
Ginny waited for the sounds of retching, cheering, and Fred and George taking advance orders from the crowd to die down and approached the Golden Trio instead.
"I can't, they're not technically doing anything wrong!" Hermione was exclaiming through gritted teeth. She immediately knew that they were talking about the twins as well. "They're quite within their rights to eat the foul things themselves, and I can't find a rule that says the other idiots aren't entitled to buy them, not unless they're proven to be dangerous in some way, and it doesn't look as though they are..."
"Who're you writing the novel to anyway?" Ron asked Hermione. He leaned sideways, trying to read the bit of parchment now trailing on the floor, but Hermione hitched it up out of sight and replied, "Viktor."
"Krum?"
"How many other Viktors do we know?"
Ron said nothing, but he looked disgruntled.
"Hey," Ginny greeted, butting in, "Ron, have you read Mum's letter?"
"Oh, yeah! She told me we're going home for Christmas and to invite Harry," Ron said, "Say, you think home means the Burrow or...?"
Hermione frowned, "Or. I think. Have your parents ever told you where they've been staying these past months?"
Ginny shook her head no, "Wasn't the purpose of staying there was for our and Harry's protection, though? Wouldn't it be suspicious if they weren't staying at the Burrow?"
"I guess we'll just have to wait and see," Harry shrugged.
Hermione looked out the window, where white snows were already piling, and sighed audibly, "I missed her..."
"Me, too," Ginny said, while the two boys just looked down.
"I used to look forward to her letters. She was brilliant, very empathetic and nice, too."
"If she could write, she would definitely tell us news about Mum and Dad."
"Yeah..."
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