Assorted Works

Last Train Home

Title: Last Train Home, Chapter 3: Gone to Guadalupe
Author: Lyndsie Fenele
Rating: All Ages/Not Naughty
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: A story of one generation, still feeling the aftermath of a war not their own, and of the parents who love them.
Author's Notes:: Mostly completed before HBP, but inaccessible for several years due to my own idiocy (dumping water on my laptop). I am finishing it now. For a never-going-to-happen spinoff of this story, see here.
Chapters: Undetermined.


Emily and Toby were secret friends for a while, but it didn't really last long. In his second year Toby was made reserve seeker for Hufflepuff. The enmity between Toby and Simon never lessened, it just became less overt. In their fourth year it evolved to an all-out war, this time on the Quidditch pitch. Toby was Hufflepuff seeker and Simon chaser for Gryffindor. They traded insults on and off the pitch, and tried to steal each others' girlfriends. Everyone knew about the rivalry and the Hufflepuff-Gryffindor games were the most anticipated out of any of the year.

By fifth year, Toby had a clear picture of just what had happened during the Second War of Dumbledore, and wished that he hadn't. Professor McGonagall had been right; there was a lot of information on the subject in the library. The problem was that it was not very complete. He still didn't understand why if his father had been so obviously aligned with the dark forces that they had let him go with a slap on the wrist. He wasn't the only one to want to know - there were several conspiracy theories on the matter. One was that he had some kind of blackmail on the Ministry. That didn't make sense to him after what the Headmistress had told him about Potter and Granger defending him. He had also come no closer to figuring out who his mother was. He had not really spoken to Emily in years, other than to trade insults, and even Ofelia had grown distant in the last months as she absorbed herself in her studies. She had never been afraid of letting herself be seen with Toby, and contrary to expectations, no one judged her for it. He managed to get a decent number of OWLs, although it was Ofelia who was top of the class, surprisingly enough.

In Sixth Year, everything changed.

It started as what everyone took as a sick joke, but later Toby began to suspect it was anything but. One morning, the country awoke to the Dark Mark hovering over the site of the Last Battle. A few weeks later, his father went 'on vacation' to France. There were rumours of strange disappearances and there were whispers of what had passed twenty years ago with the second war. A palpable note of fear was overtaking the wizarding world.

The morning that changed Toby's world dawned cold and crisp. The November wind blew gustily, whistling around the corners of the castle, and the students bundled up against the cold. Breakfast had started when in came the usual cadre of owls. Toby was so tired that he didn't notice anything out of place until Ofelia came rushing up to from the Gryffindor table, newspaper in hand. Absentmindedly, she crowded in next to Damon, shoving the paper on top of his eggs with a wide-eyed look. Damon's protests fell on deaf ears as Toby read the headline that practically screamed, "EL POLÉMICO FILÁNTROPO DRACO MALFOY HA DESAPARECIDO" with the subtitle "¿Víctima o seguidor de los mortífagos?" Toby didn't need last summer's Spanish immersion classes to get the gist of the message. Damon, who didn't know what was going on, scoffed.

"Of course you'd get a Spanish newspaper," he started, but Ofelia cut him off angrily.

"Claro, the Daily Prophet doesn't know the meaning of free press." Damon shook his head disbelievingly. It was David who broke the tension.

"Well, then what does it say?"

Toby stared blankly at the smiling picture of his father that accompanied the article as he replied woodenly, "The well-known philanthropist Draco Malfoy has disappeared." David's eyes went wide. He snatched the Prophet out of the hands of the second year next to him, ignoring the cries of protest. He rifled through it quickly, but ended up shaking his head.

"Nothing here about that at all."

"Naturally," spat Ofelia. "The Prophet is controlled by the Ministry." David looked sceptical, but she ignored him, translating the article.

"'Last week the city of Guadalupe, Cáceres, saw the arrival of the well-known contributor Draco Malfoy, who had gone to see the monastery.' That's strange, why would he go there? Anyway, 'He was staying at the Hotel so-on and,'" Ofelia exhaled, scanning down the page. "Ah, aquí. 'Unfortunately, he seems to have disappeared without a trace of his whereabouts. An unnamed travelling companion expressed to the reporter that he did not know where the controversial figure was, but that…'" she paused, apparently running into difficulty with the translation. "But that he was on his way to find out and to stay out of his way. This event comes scarcely after the disappearance of two Ministry officials British-sorry, British Ministry officials-who they claimed were researching curative potions in the pueblo of León.' That's another odd place to go," she mused, mostly to herself. "'We still don't know what they had to research-Lee Jordan of the Department of Sports and Games- ' ."

"Games and Sports," corrected David, with a glare from the rest.

"-'And Charles Weasley who had recently left his dragon reserve in Romania in the hands of… people he trained, and took an unknown post in the Department of Mysteries.'" She stopped, and after a few seconds David burst out.

"Well, is there more about Toby's dad or not?"

Toby answered for the Spanish girl. "No, it just talks about what's been happening here in the last few months. Most of it is stuff that they haven't printed in Britain." It felt like someone had filled his stomach with lead, and he thought the world should be spinning, only it wasn't. "It also talks about how he had been accused of being a Death Eater in the past, and speculates about what he was doing in Spain in the first place."

"Which is an interesting question," put in Ofelia. "I mean, why would he have gone to Guadalupe? It's a really small village. The only thing that is there is an old monastery and tourist shops." She flipped her long hair back behind her shoulder, but it slid forward again because she was leaning forward. Ofelia had grown up to be one of the prettiest girls at Hogwarts. There were constantly rumours that she and Toby were seeing each other, which they both brushed off as nonsense.

"A monastery?" asked Damon. "What kind of monastery?"

"Catholic, of course," she replied, giving him a look that said it should have been obvious. "Some hundreds of years ago it was the most powerful religious site in Spain, and only second to Rome in all of Europe. I think now they have just lots of art by famous masters and things like that there, besides the monks." She tapped her lip thoughtfully. "There's a famous cathedral at León, but I can't think of what else." Shaking her head, she seemed to take notice of her surroundings again. "I'm really sorry Tobias. If there's anything I can do, let me know, and I will keep an eye open for more articles."

"Thanks," he muttered as she rushed off to class.

There was no news over the next few weeks, and every day Toby thought the hole in his stomach was getting larger. He took to snapping at students in the halls. He received many glares, but they couldn't do anything else because he was a prefect. When Professor Sprout asked him what he was doing for the holidays, he signed up to stay at Hogwarts for the first time ever. It would be the first Christmas he had ever spent without his father. It would also be the first time since he'd come to Hogwarts that there would be no Malfoy New Years' party. It had evolved so that half the student population was invited, and everyone looked forward to it. Every time someone came up to him and asked him where the invitations were, he rudely told them the party was off. No one seemed to have heard the news about his father's disappearance, and he wasn't sure if he thought that was a good thing or a bad thing.

The Thursday before the start of vacations he was walking out of a prefects' meeting when he heard running footsteps behind him. With a 'bugger off, there's no party' on his lips, he turned around, only to be faced with a fellow prefect of Gryffindor.

"Hi," spoke Emily shyly. Her wild locks were a bit tamer than they had been when she was younger, and she had respectable curves. Despite himself, Toby felt his stomach jump a little. It had been years since they had really spoken, which probably explained why she seemed nervous.

"Hello," he responded bluntly, pulling up the sleeve of his robe that was sliding down his arm. She was fiddling nervously with one of her cuffs.

"I, uh, heard you're staying at Hogwarts for the holiday," she said, looking at the tapestry next to them. "I just thought I would tell you that I am too." Toby just started her. "I told my parents it was because one of the Gryffindor prefects should stay behind," she started again, rather rapidly, "but I, well, really…" Her face was red now. She stepped closer, looking him in the eyes. "But really I'm staying because I'm worried about you. I don't want you to spend the holidays alone after what happened with your father. I thought you could use a friend," she finished with a timid smile. Although he knew they were good sentiments, Toby couldn't help but feel a rage boiling inside of him.

"Right," he responded, feeling a little deadened. "Now you decide that I need a friend, and that you're the perfect candidate. What happened to your promise of five years ago, Emily?" His voice was rising, and Emily's mouth set in a thin line. "You stand there with your perfect life and expect me to swallow your pity like you'd never done anything to me." Her eyes were sparking, and he vaguely wondered how much it would take to set her off.

"Perfect life?" she cried. "That's a bit rich from someone born in a mansion! You don't have the faintest idea what it's like to the kid of someone you'll never remember, but everyone expects you to be the next hero of the world and never thinks that you're a just another person who wants her own life!" Her fists were clenched and she was glaring daggers, while Toby shifted his weight from foot to foot lightly, as though boxing.

"Sure I don't know what's it's like to have everyone expect me to be just like my father," he responded with icy calm, contrary to the volume of before. "At least they don't think that you're going to kill them and burn down their houses. And what happens to me if my father never comes back? I don't have any other relatives who aren't in Azkaban for torture and murder. You at least have somewhere to go if something happened to your mum." He let out a bitter laugh. "You at least know who your mum is, even." She looked at him quizzically.

"You don't know who your mum is?" she asked, her voice smaller than he had ever heard it before. He turned aside, crossing his arms over his chest.

"No, Potter, my father never thought it important to tell me that small detail." He sighed. "It doesn't really matter, as the only thing I know about her is that she's dead anyway." He heard her moving, and half-dreaded, half-hoped that she was coming to comfort him.

She wasn't. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her sit on the window sill next to the tapestry. Her hands were folded in her lap and her head was bowed. He saw something small and shiny drop towards her hands and realized that she was crying. His stomach twisted with guilt. He sighed and moved to sit down next to her.

He made no overt move to comfort her, merely sitting in silence for a while. After a few moments, he spoke again.

"I'm sorry," he said with genuine emotion. "I didn't mean to make you cry, you know. It's just a lot of shit to carry around, and I think I just needed to explode." To his surprise, he heard what sounded like a laugh. She lifted her tear-streaked face and smiled slightly.

"I understand, you know. Probably better than anyone else at this school." He nodded in agreement. "And I didn't mean to yell at you, either." He snorted.

"Hey, I never said I didn't mean to yell at you. I think you deserved that, Potter." She looked at him in surprise but laughed when she saw the look in his eyes.

"Right, I know, I'm a spoiled little brat, Mr. Trust Fund." He rolled his eyes.

"And how many times have I heard my father complain about how Sirius Black stole the family fortune away from my grandmother and gave it to his godson?" he returned with sarcasm. She gasped, though it seemed exaggerated.

"Hey now, that was a completely legal dirty move on his part. I'd think you Slytherins would appreciate that." She nudged him slightly as he said that. He snorted again.

"Ok, Miss Second-of-the-Class, I think you've forgotten that that fashion mistake put me in Hufflepuff."

She actually burst out laughing at that remark, and he was surprised when she linked her arm with his. When she had herself under control again she turned to him with a serious look in her eyes.

"Do you think we can start over again for the second time? I'm really sorry about the past you know. I really regret not trying harder." He looked at her for a second, not sure what to do. Even though she had ignored him for the better part of their acquaintance, he found it was temptingly easy to forgive her. She had been right; they did understand each other better than probably anybody else at the school. He sighed loudly.

"I don't know, Potter, look at you," he gestured to her tear-streaked face. "You're bad for my image." She giggled.

"I think that means yes, considering all your other friends." He smiled, taking that as a compliment.

"I won't hold that comment against you. I suppose we should shake on this then," he responded, sticking out his hand. To his surprise, she grabbed his sleeve and wiped her eyes on it. When she was done, she looked up at him with a wide grin.

"Then it's settled! We are both mutually sorry and both staying at Hogwarts. So I'll see you around, then."

With that, she rose and scampered off happily with a small wave.

Toby watched her leaving with a small smile of admiration. He had to admire someone who had the guts to do what she'd just done and still banter back and forth with him.

Later that day, when he entered the Great Hall, she waved at him from the Gryffindor table, an action that received reprimand from Simon Weasley. She turned to him, indignant, and Toby caught part of her sentence as he walked by.

"-wave to whoever I want, Simon Weasley, so eat your peas and-"


There were fewer than a dozen students who had stayed at Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays, and when he let himself think about it, he was glad that Emily had stayed to keep him company. None of his other friends had stayed, and he didn't want to think what it would have been like to have to spend all of that time alone in the library. Instead, he got to spend it with Emily in the library, which was an improvement even if she made him study harder than he would have liked.

They sometimes turned their attention to what was happening in the wizarding world at large, and she had some startling information for him about the disappearances of the Ministry officials.

"It's that they were sent to look for something, I didn't hear what, but it was a top-secret mission. I think that the remains of the Order have been reactivated in a manner of speaking, and they're investigating the strange occurrences. I heard Uncle Ron telling mum and dad that they hadn't found what they were looking for. One of the missing officials is his brother after all." Toby was listening with extreme interest. They were in the Hufflepuff common room, and Emily was lying on her back in front of the fire while Toby sat on the floor next to her.

"And do you think that has anything to do with my father?" he asked, worriedly. She was thoughtful for a moment.

"I have no idea. I only get the bits and pieces that I eavesdrop, which I can't get away with often." She rolled over onto her stomach and looked at him seriously. "But I do find it quite strange that given all the proof against him, your father didn't go to prison all those years ago." Toby set down his quill absently, looking back at her.

"If your parents hadn't stood up for him, he would probably be in Azkaban right now," he replied earnestly. "Though I can't seem to figure out why they did."

She pushed herself up on her palms. "What do you mean my parents stood up for him?" she asked curiously. He frowned.

"Professor McGonagall told me that the only reason he didn't go to prison was because Hermione Granger and Harry Potter testified before the Wizengamot, and apparently it was so persuasive that they let him off." Emily's face was a mask of shock. She shook her head.

"I've never heard that before. How curious!" She seemed to be thinking, and she pushed her hair behind her ears absentmindedly. "Why would they have done that?"

"I have no idea," Toby responded, though he wasn't sure if she was talking to herself or not. "It's been puzzling me for the last five years. Maybe McGonagall was wrong, because I can't seem to find any public record of it." Suddenly the girl's eyes went wide, and she grabbed his hand excitedly.

"You know, I think I know why!" she cried. "I can only come to one conclusion that makes any sense. Tell me what you think." She looked up with eyes full of excitement. "Your father must have been a secret spy for the Order of the Phoenix." Toby shook his head in disbelief, but she spoke before he could say anything. "That would explain why he got off although there apparently was some serious proof of his involvement with the Death Eaters, and why my parents would have vouched for him. It probably also explains why he has publicly disavowed anything to with dark magic or his own father."

Toby turned that over in his mind. It was a surprising thought, given the contempt he occasionally expressed for the very people who had in the end saved him, but Emily was right, it was the only thing that made sense. She stood up suddenly and began to pace the rug.

"It also could explain something that had been puzzling me for a while too. I once overheard them arguing and they mentioned Simon's aunt-she had been a double agent during the war-and they said something like 'we only had his word on the entire matter, and as much as we distrusted him, we knew that he couldn't have been lying because he knew of her agent status and Dumbledore trusted him'. I wasn't sure what they had been talking about, but it had me convinced there had to have been another agent in the headquarters." Toby frowned.

"Headquarters? Agents? I don't know what you're talking about." She turned to him, a fiery look in her eyes.

"The Headquarters of the Death Eaters and the beginning of the Last Battle is a place that has been kept secret from the public since the war. Dumbledore had apparently sent in Simon's aunt as a double agent without the knowledge of anyone else. They all thought she had turned traitor. From what I heard, it sounded like there was another agent there as well, one that no one would have expected." She began pacing again, as though trying to jog her memory. "'He gave away his position in order to warn us, but in the end we couldn't save her'. Ginny Weasley was killed in the headquarters, and there were some extremely strange circumstances of which I know no details. And given the location, it makes perfect sense that your father could have been that other agent." Toby now found himself standing, but couldn't remember when he had gotten up from the floor.

"Where was the headquarters?" he rasped, feeling that the answer to this question would change everything. Emily looked at him with the same look Ofelia would give when she thought the answer obvious.

"Malfoy Manor, of course," she responded, and Toby felt a chill run through his body.

"Where?" he asked, though he was sure he already knew the answer. "The South Wing?"

"Yes," she said softly, approaching him and placing a hand on his arm. "But it spilled out into the entrance hall. That's why my mother can't stand being there." Toby remembered the professor's reaction the first time she had Portkeyed in. He also remembered all the times his father had yelled at him for trying to get into the blocked up South Wing.

"He told me that it was dangerous, that the floors were falling apart," he muttered, feeling a surge of anger towards his father. He should have been told all of this years ago instead of having to hear it second-hand.

"What?" Emily asked, but Toby didn't hear. He collapsed into the nearest chair, staring into the flames. If it was all true, then could that explain why his father was missing now? Had he been sent on a mission for the Order of the Phoenix? Were the Death Eaters active again, and if so, wouldn't they know that his father was a traitor? A stab of fear sliced his insides and panic welled up. His father was in great danger, and Toby felt completely useless. He couldn't just sit here in this chair and wait for someone to inform him about what was going on, because chances were they never would. The panic was replaced with determination, and he stood. Emily was looking at him curiously, as though she didn't quite know what to do, and when he spoke his voice startled her.

"Do you think your mother knows what is happening?" he asked. She vacillated.

"Yes, I'm sure she does. She's not going to tell us, though." Toby didn't notice the worry in her eyes. "But no one knows where your father is now, that I'm sure."

"Right," responded Toby. "Then we have to find out. He turned around, looking for his cloak.

"What are you doing?" Emily asked, slightly panicked. She watched him sling his cloak over his shoulders. "Where are you going?"

"Home," he shot back. "I have the feeling there are a lot of answers there that I never even knew the questions to." He considered her for a moment before turning back around. "If you're coming, you've got ten minutes to get your stuff and meet me in the entrance hall."


Her backpack slung over her shoulder, Emily jogged up to Toby. She looked worried, but didn't try to convince him out of going.

"How are you going to get there?" she asked, tying her hair behind her head in a quick motion. Toby shrugged.

"Walk to Hogsmeade and catch the Knight Bus." Emily shook her head disapprovingly.

"That will never work. The gates won't let you out." Toby huffed, frustrated.

"Then do you have a better idea?" he asked rhetorically. "I'm not just going to sit around anymore while my father's in trouble."

"Of course I do," she responded quickly, taking an old piece of parchment out of her pocket. "Follow me." Toby stared after her as she walked up the staircase, but after a few seconds hesitation ran after her. They walked through the empty halls until they arrived at the statue of a one-eyed witch. Emily tapped the parchment with her wand and muttered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Toby watched in amazement as a complete map of Hogwarts appeared before his eyes. His surprise increased when two dots labelled "Tobias Adrian Malfoy" and "Emily Anne Potter" were shown in their exact locations.

"Adrian?" she asked. "It fits you." Toby closed his open mouth.

"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," he read. "Where the bloody hell did you get this?" he asked in an astonished whisper.

Emily smiled. She scanned the map as she responded, "The story goes that Fred and George nicked it from the caretaker's office and later gave it to my father. It came to be in Uncle Ron's position, who recently passed it on to me." She looked up at Toby, her eyes more serious now. "He told me that my grandfather, James Potter, and his close friends made this map when they were in Hogwarts years ago." Toby whistled appreciatively. "Anyhow, we have to get moving because Peeves is coming this way."


"If my mother knew what I was doing right now, she'd kill me," Emily stated from her seat opposite Toby. "Not that she hasn't done worse things in her youth," she added.

"We should be next," stated Toby. Since they had gotten on the bus, his stomach had been a knot of tension. It felt like all the answers to all the questions he was just starting to have were waiting for him, and it felt like it was taking forever to get there. Soon enough, the bus stop and the conductor shouted, "Who's for Wiltshire?"

Emily looked around confused at empty field as the Knight Bus disappeared behind them. There was nothing more than a stretch of land overgrown with dead grass as far as the eye could see. The setting sun painted the entire place a dusky orange and shaded it grey.

"Is this the right place?" she asked concernedly.

"Oh ye of little faith," responded Toby sarcastically. "Of course it is." He turned to face her, a very serious look on his face. "What I say next is very important. There is a reason I was warned repeatedly as a child not to wander on the grounds, and why I have never actually walked from here to the house. My ancestors were very distrustful people and the entire lawn leading up to the house is covered with traps that my father could not deactivate." Her eyes widened and she looked around and the empty land.

"But what house?" she cried, and before she had even finished her sentence Toby took one step to his left. Out of nothing there appeared a bright shimmer in the distance, which solidified into an imposing grey stone mansion with idyllic gardens along a winding path to the front portico.

"Oh," she said, stunned. "But I was standing there a minute ago and nothing appeared!" Toby grinned wickedly.

"Yes, but you've got no Malfoy in you," he answered, and leaning forward he muttered in her ear, "Yet." She gasped and lifted her hand to strike him on the arm. He caught her hand in his and smirked. "Sorry, couldn't resist." She tried to extract her hand from his. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. I can get by most of the traps unscathed just for being a Malfoy. Hopefully if you hold on to me it will work for you too." Her eyes widened again and she clutched him tighter.

The walk across the grounds was uneventful until about halfway across. Toby had been leading with Emily one step behind, and when he suddenly stopped she bumped into him. He turned his head to her and exhaled sharply. "Close one," he spoke with relief.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, confused. There didn't appear to be anything threatening about the lawn in front of them. The trees swayed slightly in the breeze and there was the scent of wet earth.

"Don't move your feet, and hand me that pebble," he said, pointing to next to her shoe. She obliged, stretching her body in an odd way so as to not let go of his hand. He took the small rock and dropped it next to him. Instead of landing on the ground like it should have, it fell through the ground. Emily gasped. "Bottomless pit covered with an illusion," Toby responded wryly. He felt her grasp his hand even tighter. She looked up at him frowning.

"Then how exactly are you standing on it without falling through?" she exclaimed. He shrugged.

"I told you, I'm a Malfoy. We work miracles." She clucked her tongue in disbelief. "I don't think holding my hand will be enough to get you across this one," he said heavily. "But why don't you lean on me and try putting some weight on the abyss." She looked at him with such astonishment that he almost laughed.

"Who would have ever thought I'd hear that sentence," she muttered, while doing what he suggested. However, to Toby's alarm, not only did her foot fall through, the part of the spell that was sustaining him started to stretch and he lowered a few inches. He threw them forward suddenly and onto solid ground. After catching his breath, he rolled off of Emily and went to investigate. Sure enough, the spell sustained him when he walked out onto it.

"It feels normal," he said, frowning.

"What does it feel like?" she said with a studious look. He laughed.

"It feels like a very thick carpet. Different than regular grass, that's how I knew to stop you from walking out onto it." He looked down at his feet. "But I can't carry you across like I was planning. The spell apparently thinks that's cheating."

"Why can't we take the road?" she asked, which was a very reasonable question.

"We'd get about five feet and it would swallow us alive." Emily shuddered. "And the abyss circles the entire house." Emily had that studious look again, and she probably would have paced but for fear of treading upon the abyss.

"Can you levitate me?" she asked.

"Magic dampening spells. I'd probably get you halfway and then you'd fall." She moved her hands through her hair, making it pull out of its binding.

"I have my broom miniaturized. Can we fly?" she asked. Toby thought for a moment, then shook his head.

"I don't want to chance it. There are random shield charms in place all over, and certainly over this abyss. You hit one of those and that's it." She was looking at him thoughtfully, and then her features twisted in fear.

"Would you please get off that thing!" she cried. "I don't trust it!" He rolled his eyes but complied, coming to stand next to her.

"You say this thing is somehow attuned to the Malfoy bloodline?" she asked and he responded in the affirmative. "That's like the Room of Records at the Burrow." When he cocked an eyebrow she responded, "The Weasley family home. Only Weasleys can enter that certain room." She pulled the rubber band out of her hair as it was mostly out anyway. He watched as her eyes lit up suddenly. She turned to him with an apologetic look, moving so they were only a few inches apart. "I'm sorry, but this has to be done."

She grabbed the sides of his face and pulled his lips down to hers. Toby was so shocked that he didn't realize at first that she had stuck her tongue in his mouth. All his nerve endings were tingling and as soon as he fully realized what was happening he slid his hands to her waist. Their tongues battled for a bit before she shoved his face away from hers.

"You've got to use more saliva than that," she reprimanded, and he felt a stab of outrage.

"I'm sorry, I was under the impression that most girls thought that a bit disgusting," he cried. He wasn't even thinking about where they were anymore. She sighed.

"We do, idiot, but the point is that some of your cells need to be inside of me." She emphasized by jabbing him in the chest and then pointing at herself. He sighed.

"Well then, shouldn't I just spit in your mouth? It's a bit easier," he responded hotly. She rolled her eyes.

"Obviously I much prefer this kissing method."

"Well then why didn't you tell me from the start! Or did you just assume I was a sloppy kisser?" She looked away quickly and suddenly he didn't want to know what she had heard about his kissing. "Fine then, let's get on with this."


He had to hand it to her, her idea had worked. She smiled self-satisfyingly as they hurried across the abyss, and embraced him in relief when they reached the other side. That lasted about three seconds before she backed away with an awkward smoothing of her cloak and grabbed his hand, keeping a good space between them.

"How did you know that would work?" he asked.

"I didn't," she said. "But I got the idea from what happened with Uncle Ron's girlfriend. And if it didn't, no harm done, right?"

Toby nodded in assent, but a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach was telling him that things would never quite be the same again.


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