Sylvia noticed the bruises in the shower. In the perfect shape of Quentin's hand, five, long purple marks wrapped around her bicep, a deeper red where his nails had dug in. She brushed her fingers over her arm lightly, brushing the little droplets of warm water over the discolored flesh before quickly moving on to rinsing her hair.
She dressed quickly before anyone else could enter the bathrooms and see, being sure to wear a long-sleeved shirt to bed. When she walked over to her bed, passing by Angelina and Alicia sitting on Alicia's bed, she was sure to flash a smile as she rubbed a towel through her hair, flopping onto her own four-poster.
"Hey," Angelina swung her feet off the bed, twisting at one of her braids as she spoke to Sylvia through the empty bed between them.
Sylvie wrung out the ends of her hair, widening her eyes and raising her brows expectantly to the other two girls, "Hey."
"Um, since quidditch is canceled this year and all," Angelina continued, "Licia and me have had a lot of free time on our hands and--"
She flicked a thumb at Alicia, who gave a warm smile from beside her. Angelina rubbed her lips together and gave a self-aware chuckle.
"Well, we were wondering if you'd ever want to hang out with us."
Sylvia paused, her towel still scrunched around the ends of her hair. She couldn't hide the small smile that was growing on her lips. Angelina must have noticed because her own smile spread, showing a row of perfect teeth.
"We were gonna go to Hogsmeade this weekend, actually," she turned to Alicia, who nodded, "if you... wanted to come."
She almost seemed excited. And it was genuine. Sylvia could feel it. So she nodded, letting her smile spread across her face.
"Okay," her voice sounded strange, high pitched and girlish, which was how she felt, like a little girl. Like she was making friends for the first time.
"Badge?"
Sylvia looked down at the round, yellow and red pin that was being held out below her. On it, Cedric Diggory's face smiled for a moment before it spun into a whirlpool, turning a bright green and displaying the phrase "Potter Stinks!"
"Uh--"
She was shoved from behind as a student moved past her into the classroom, pushing her into the Hufflepuff boy who was trying to give her the pin. He pressed it into her hands before she regained her posture, moving onto another student behind her.
Turning the charmed badge over in her hands, she walked over to an empty desk, tossing her bag onto the tabletop as she sat. She couldn't tell if the badge was in bad taste or not. Either way, she wasn't exactly rooting for Diggory or Potter, so there was no use wearing it.
Just as she opened her book bag to throw the pin in, out of sight, a hand swooped in and snatched it from her.
"Ah, the conservative type, are you?" Fred teased as he took the seat next to her, dropping his own bag to the floor under the desk. He twisted the pin between his fingers absentmindedly, flicking his hair out of his face as he sat.
Sylvia's stomach churned and she straightened her shoulders, scanning the room quickly for any of Quentin's lackeys. He had made it fairly clear yesterday that he didn't want any of her actions reflecting back on him. She had the marks to remember.
Fred raised an eyebrow at her with a sly smile, "Didn't take you for the type to support Diggory."
She felt like she couldn't speak, a nervous twitch making her flash an awkward smile. She cleared her throat and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, rubbing at her temple.
"I don't," her voice was quiet and wavered a little, "well-- I don't not support him. There was a kid at the door handing them out and he sort of," she waved her hand awkwardly, "forced it onto me."
She was so obvious it was painful. Fred was eyeing her up and down like she had lobsters crawling out of her ears, his eyebrows scrunched up, mouth slightly open. Sylvia cleared her throat again and sat on her hands, chewing on the inside of her lips.
"Okay..." he blinked, growing a doubtful smile, "Well, I meant to ask you where you went yesterday--"
The slam of the DADA office door and the clunk of a metal leg against the hardwood flooring, interrupted him. Professor Moody thumped his way down the stairs, glass eye swinging around in its socket as it surveyed the classroom. He stopped at the blackboard, frowning at the class before him. He spoke with a grunt.
"Everyone up. We're practicing non-verbal spells and deflection."
Seats shifted as students stood and grabbed their things. Moody cleared the desks off to the sides of the room with a quick wave of his wand and spoke again with annoyance.
"Alright, alright, pair up across from each other." He waived his hand around wildly, motioning for everyone to separate to either side of the room.
Sylvia pulled her wand out of her skirt's waistband and twisted her hand around the handle, moving off to the right side of the room. Fred positioned himself across from her, tapping his wand against his leg as he waited.
"Now," Moody's eye swiveled from side to side as he limped down the middle of the classroom, "I want this side of the room casting and the other side deflecting," he motioned to Fred's side, then to Sylvia's, "But you are not allowed to speak."
He had a wild look in his good eye.
"Now to do so, all that is needed is a clear idea of the curse you are casting in your head," he tapped a finger against his temple, his tongue darting out the side and back in, "Just think it. It's as simple as that. Okay, first try with some simple spells--Weasley!"
Fred's eyes widened as Moody nodded at him.
"I want you to cast the knockback jinx on Miss Callis," he turned to Sylvia, now addressing her, "and you should counter it--but!" he threw a finger in the air with exaggerated drama, "Only the movement. Straight up with your wand, yes?"
Sylvia nodded and licked her lips quickly before swallowing, twisting her wand back and forth in her hand.
"Alright," his voice was calm now as he looked between the pair, "now concentrate, and only Weasley should speak."
He backed up, giving them space as Fred stepped one foot forward slightly, rocking back and forth the tiniest bit, raising his wand. Sylvia mimicked him, meeting his eyes as he took a breath in.
"Flipendo!" He spoke quickly, wand waving in a v-shape as a loud bang sounded and blue and yellow light shot out from it and towards Sylvia.
With just a split second to act, she flicked her wand up, as if swatting away a fly, and the blue and yellow lights were wiped away in front of her.
"Yes, very good!" Moody erupted from the front of the classroom, "Now everybody, attempt the same without speaking the jinx or the counter. Switch once you've got it." He waved a hand, signaling the class to continue.
Fred turned back to Sylvia, impressed and smiling, he nodded his head and raised his wand again, raising his eyebrows, ready? She let the corner of her mouth flick up in a small smile and nodded back, regaining her stance.
It turned out Fred wasn't very good at countering jinxes. Sylvia had thrown a silent Relashio jinx, which he was too slow to counter, causing his wand to fly straight up out of his hand, poking him square in the eye. Moody dismissed them both, asking her to make sure he could find the hospital wing seeing as he couldn't open one eye.
But as soon as they closed the classroom door behind them, Fred turned to Sylvia with a grin, one hand over his right eye.
"Lets go to the lake."
"What?"
"You heard me, let's go to the lake."
She furrowed her brows at him, adjusting her bag over her shoulder.
"But your eye--" she turned her head down the direction of the hospital wing, trailing off as he pushed gently at her shoulder, getting her attention.
"I'll be fine. Look," he dropped his hand from his face, revealing a watery, red eye that was blinking furiously, "I've poked plenty of things in my eye, this is nothing."
He smiled with pride, squaring his shoulders and cocking his head to the side the slightest bit. Sylvia noticed the little creases by his eyes that deepened every time he grinned and wondered how someone could smile so much that they had the evidence permanently engraved on their face.
"Come on," he nudged her shoulder gently again, "we're out early anyways."
She agreed with a shrug and the two made their way down to the Black Lake. Fred waisted no time in asking about what happened at the library the other day.
"So..." he eyed her from the side, rubbing the palm of his hand over his injured eye, "about yesterday."
She cleared her throat, making sure there was no inflection in her voice when she spoke, "What about yesterday?"
Even though she was keeping her eyes focused straight ahead, she could feel his gaze lingering on her. There was that pricking again, right at her temple, like someone was scraping a needle against it ever so gently.
"Well," he had that joking tone in his voice, like always, but there was something sincere behind it, "you looked a little shaken up outside after..."
"After Quentin." She spoke plainly.
There was a short pause. The only thing she could hear was the crunch of grass beneath their feet and her own breathing as they descended the hill. She couldn't bring herself to look at him still, but she continued.
"He's always been a prick, you know that."
There was more silence. She finally looked over. Fred just looked at her, letting her speak. Fred Weasley of all people was letting her speak. He looked patient, face understanding and attentive. She took a deep breath and swallowed, turning her attention back to the lake before them.
"My mother says he's still upset over our dad's death. It's not true though, he's always been this way. Since we were kids."
They slowed down, nearing the edge of the water now, and Sylvia turned to face Fred head on. His expression hadn't changed much, but he wetted his lower lip quickly before speaking.
"I didn't know your dad had died." His voice was soft and understanding.
Sylvia shrugged, squeezing her crossed arms over her chest as a breeze blew off the surface of the lake.
"Not many people know. It happened the summer after second year. I didn't have many friends so there was no one to tell."
He looked like he didn't know what to say, so he said what most people who don't know what to do say.
"I'm sorry."
She blew a puff of air out her nose, squinting against the light reflecting off the lake. Why was everyone's first response to hearing someone had died to say they're sorry? They weren't sorry. They felt sorry for them. I'm sorry for your loss. No you're not. You feel awkward that death was brought up and that's all you know to say. Fred felt sorry for Sylvia, but he wasn't sorry that her dad was dead. But what else was he going to say?
"You don't have to say that just because I'm telling a sad story."
He let out an embarrassed huff of a laugh, looking at his shoes and shoving his hands in his pockets. He looked like he was going to say something else, but stopped himself.
"You're allowed to ask how he died," she tilted her head slightly to catch his eye, "It's okay to be curious about that kind of thing."
Fred looked back up at her. He blinked, meeting her eye, but still didn't speak. Sylvia wrinkled her nose in a sniff and tucked a piece of long black hair behind her ear, turning to squint at the lake.
"He hanged himself with a necktie," she let out a sarcastic scoff, "with his school necktie -- from when he went here."
She turned back to him now, finding another pair of eyes to ground herself in. His eyebrows were knit and his lips were pressed into a thin line as he kept his hazel eyes glued on hers.
"He did it right after he put me to bed. I was really sick that summer with pneumonia and my mum and Quentin were out doing something, I don't remember what."
Without purpose, she found herself taking a small step in Fred's direction, dropping her arms to her sides.
"But he was home taking care of me and he put me to bed and told me he loved me and that he'd see me in the morning and I fell asleep."
She paused only to wet her lips and take in a deep breath.
"And then I was woken up by my mother's screaming. So I ran downstairs even though I could hardly breathe without passing out and I saw that the basement door was open. So, I went down to the basement and he was hanging from the floorboards by his yellow Hufflepuff tie."
She could feel Fred's breath against her forehead. His mouth was slightly open and his eyes still fixed on hers.
"And then I fainted," she took another half-step closer to him so she had to look up, "And I woke up in hospital and you know what the first thing Quentin said to me was?"
He didn't reply, but let his eyes flicker between hers.
"He said 'you were there, why didn't you stop him?' and my mother just sat there and she couldn't look at me."
Sylvia wanted to cry, but she couldn't. She blinked hard, trying to find some sort of release. All she could do was ball her fists up at her sides and let her fingernails dig into her palms. Without taking his eyes off hers, Fred suddenly grabbed one of her clenched fists and pried it open. He broke their gaze to look down at the little semi-circle indents across the heel of her palm.
"Stop doing that." His voice was merely a whisper as he reached down to take her other hand now, holding his own fingers over hers as he uncurled them.
Then he did something that made Sylvia's heart rate triple. He leaned his head down slightly and pulled her hand up to his lips and placed a soft kiss on her palm. Her stomach twisted and she felt like she was going to be sick, but she stepped one final step closer, closing the distance between them as he held her hand by her side.
"Are you going to kiss me now?"
She wanted to kick herself for asking such a dumb question but didn't have time to feel embarrassed for herself because Fred was answering her by slowly pressing his lips against hers. And they sat there like that for a second, eyes shut tight and mouths closed but touching gently. Then, Fred's free hand reached up to slide over her jaw to the back of her head, combing his fingers through her tangled hair. Sylvia placed a hand on his chest, right over the Gryffindor patch on his sweater and took a sharp breath in through her nose and parted her lips.
It wasn't like the two little kisses they had shared at the party a few months ago. For one, they weren't on display, and there wasn't an unspoken rule that they had to kiss in that moment. But Fred hadn't rolled his eyes or looked even remotely disgusted moments before he kissed her, he was holding her hand and tugging at the roots of her hair and leaning his head down to really kiss her.
And then he pulled his hand out of her hair and stepped back. Sylvia let her hand fall from his chest and bit on her lip as she felt him releasing his grip from her other hand. Fred let out an awkward laugh and wiped at his mouth, averting his eyes to the leaf-strewn ground.
"Sorry," was all she could think to say as she intertwined and twisted her fingers around each other, feeling her cheeks warm up.
"No, no, don't be sorry," Fred was smiling, but abashedly, pushing his hands into his pockets, "I'm just a little uh--"
He laughed again, and Sylvia felt her stomach turn, pulling at her fingers harder now.
"I'm a little confused, I guess."
Her heart rose to her throat and her voice came out hushed.
"About what?"
She felt like she was going to vomit suddenly, and tucked her hair behind her ears nervously, waiting for his reply. The corner of Fred's mouth perked up and he rubbed a hand against the back of his neck.
"I like you, Sylvie. But -- I guess it might just be..." he met her eyes again, failing to find the word, but he saw that she understood, "...for everyone to see us..."
But she found herself stepping forward again, eyes trained on his and she spoke without realizing.
"No one has to know."
Before she could regret it, Fred was stepping towards her again, leaning down to close the distance between their lips and kissing her. And she had no time to scruple over what she had just promised him. No time to tell him that she didn't care what everyone else thought, that she liked it when they were together, and that she wanted everyone to know they had their first kiss together by the Black Lake after he had poked his eye with his wand and she had told him that her father killed himself three years ago.
He pulled out of the kiss again, holding her face in his hands and raised the corner of his mouth.
"When do you have detention next?"