I have a confession to make ... this one shot was written over 2 years ago. In fact, I'd written it before the last one shot and after writing this one, I ended up hitting the worst writing slump I've ever experienced. I stopped writing for well over 2 years, but I somehow managed to write Harry's most recent one shot and I'm coming out onto the other side of my writing slump. 

What I'm trying to say is - thank you. The response of you wonderful fawns has brought back my love of writing, so thank you all ~

This one shot was requested by niki_0809 . Again, sorry for the ridiculously long wait, but I hope you like it!

As always, please leave plenty of comments. I'm currently living off of the validation ... 

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Every so often, but not so often that I lamented at how bad a daughter I was, I caught myself having ungrateful thoughts. Some part of me could accept that part of my sadness and disappointment was justified; my parents were leaving me in the care of their friends for the duration of my summer holiday.

They were going to miss the entire summer before my sixth year and there was absolutely no way for me to contact them. But, the far greater part of me, that part that was overwhelmed with pride over the parents I had, knew they were leaving me because they had no other choice. My parents weren't running off and abandoning their responsibilities. Rather they were fulfilling those responsibilities.

They had been recruited and pulled from their long retirement to join the fight against the Dark Lord who appeared to be going from strength to strength. My parents had a reason - an extremely justified reason for leaving me in the care of the Potter family. I had no reason to be upset at them.

A hand settled on top of mine, startling me from my thoughts. Realising I hadn't said a word from the moment we'd entered the Potter family parlour, I glanced at my parents who sat on either side of me. They were busy, talking and laughing with Mr and Mrs Potter as if they weren't about to embark on perhaps the most perilous mission they'd ever been asked to go on in the entirety of their illustrious careers. They had been out of the force for years now, having retired when I was a child, and yet after receiving their first summons, they were throwing themselves back onto the front line. Never mind that they hadn't kept up with any of their training regimes whilst retired, or that they were now older than their colleagues, they were ready to complete their duty. I couldn't help but think I was worrying in their stead.

Mrs Potter, likely wanting to coax me out of my silence, addressed me with kind eyes. It was those kind eyes that Potter had inherited. "I for one will be glad to have another woman around the house. With my husband and my boys running around all day, the house is a bit too male at times."

Appreciating the effort she was putting in and managing a small smile, I said a faint, "I'll bet."

Before Mrs Potter could say anything more, she was cut off by something crashing, sounding like it had been thrown down the stairs. The noise, followed by raucous chatter, had every adult laughing and shaking their heads. Mrs Potter shrugged as if to say 'see what I mean'. Salazar's soul, I'd expected this much noise at least considering that both Potter and the eldest Black lived in this home.

"Boys," Mr Potter called out, turning briefly from his conversation with my father. The older wizard carried himself in the same mischievous manner that seemed innate for his son and turned his eyes to the open parlour doors where both suspects stood. Black shared a look with Potter, cradling an empty cauldron against his chest. "Come and greet the Redds."

The two Gryffindors, likely smug that they were not chastised, entered the room and took turns greeting my parents before silently greeting me with a nodded head. I returned it, not having expected anything more. Did our parents really expect us to become chummy over this holiday when I'd never once spoken to them before? My eyes lingered on the pair for a moment longer, catching the second when Black, with his usual arrogant smirk, nudged Potter who kept looking at me. Shifting my eyes to the taller of the pair, I held his gaze and arched a curious eyebrow. He hurried to look away.

Mrs Potter, scrutinising both her boys and likely trying to figure out what they were up to with the cauldron, shifted her eyes to me. Offering me yet another maternal smile, she offered, "Do you want to head up to your room and start settling in?"

"That's ok," I hurried to decline.

Beckoning the two teenage boys forward, she insisted despite me shaking my head, "James and Sirius will carry your bags up for you and show you the way."

"Honestly, I really don't think - "

"You should settle in," Dad said before I could finish my protests. "We're just going to be discussing boring business, you don't want to listen to that."

It was the closest to a dismissal that I'd ever get. They were going to discuss something that my parents didn't want me to hear and insisting that they let me stay would bring an unnecessary argument. I really didn't want to argue with them before sending them off. Rising to my feet, I listened as my parents promised to call me before they left.

Making my way to the door, I waited for both Gryffindors to step aside. When they did, I headed into the corridor, spying my bags and trunk that were already settled at the foot of the staircase. Before I could march over to pick some of them up, they were floating in the air. Looking back in surprise, I realised they both had their wands pointed at my belongings.

"There's no point in doing any heavy lifting," Black insisted. He was the first to alight the stairs. "Come on, Redd."

Staying back a bit, I gestured for Potter to head up before me. But he remained standing at the foot of the stairs, eyes shifting to me before darting away again.

"You go first," Potter said, and not wanting to drag the awkward interaction out, I moved first.

Taking the stairs one at a time, I followed Black up the stairs and listened out for Potter who was quick to join us. The short walk up the stairs and to the nearest guest room was filled with Black incessantly chattering about something I paid no mind to. I didn't attempt to carry the conversation, not that he needed a conversation partner. He was having an entirely one-sided conversation.

Finally reaching the closed door of the guest room, I looked expectantly at the pair of Gryffindors. Silently, Potter stepped forward, opening the door with his empty hand. It swung inwards and he gestured me inside. I walked into the immaculately decorated bedroom, swearing I felt a faint hand against the small of my back before it disappeared like it hadn't been there in the first place. DIsmissing it, I took in the furnishings; it was beautiful with a homely, comfortable feel. But it wasn't home. And it would never be.

Behind me, the best friends walked only a few short steps into the room before setting my things down on the floor. They turned, as if ready to leave and I eyed their retreating backs apprehensively. Whether I liked it or not, they were going to be a big part of my life for the next few weeks.

"Thank you," I called out, "You really didn't need to help me."

"And risk angering Mrs P?" Black asked with a teasing smile that he tossed me from over his shoulder. "No chance."

Without another word, Black walked out of the room, leaving only Potter standing in the doorway. He was facing me again, shuffling from one foot to the other. It was strange to see him behaving this way; he'd never acted this way in school. It certainly didn't match the image of him I had. Whilst at school he was arrogant, bigheaded and smug and yet, he was charming all the same and funny. This Potter, who stood uncertain and quiet, didn't line up with any of my expectations.

"Just let me know if you need anything," he said eventually, backtracking out of the room before I could say another word. Even when he reached the hallway, he lingered a moment longer, "It's good to see you again, Redd."

He hurried away before I could even say a word.

**********

The thing about nightmares was that, unlike dreams, they stuck around for longer. And when you woke in the middle of the night, you were stuck in some sort of limbo for a short while, whilst your brain worked rapidly to catch up and realise that you weren't in any real danger. Yet, if the nightmare was horrendous, and lately all of mine were, its nefarious presence lingered in the air and continued to loom over you.

Still lying frozen in the middle of the unfamiliar bed, my eyes searched the strange room, waiting for a faceless form to appear from the shadows. I had no idea what this He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named looked like and yet it was him that haunted my dreams. It took longer to calm down than it would have if I was in my bedroom at home, but eventually, I did.

When my heart rate slowed, I wiped my hand over my forehead and brushed away the cold sweat. Sitting up, I gathered the blanket around me. The comfort I'd first appreciated in the room was stripped away in the cover of the night and instead, it was suffocating. Looking at the window, I contemplated opening it before my mind supplied me with the unfortunate image of someone who was meant to be the Dark Lord crawling through it. Not knowing the extent of the protective warding that house was under, I decided against attempting to climb out.

Shifting to the edge of the mattress, I reached into the bedside drawer. Rummaging around, I drew out a matchbox and lit one in a single strike. Lighting the waiting candle, I blew out the match and tucked the matchbox away again. Slipping my feet into the slippers, I picked up the candle by the holder. If I couldn't risk opening the window, then I could at least leave this room. If only for a short while until I knew it wouldn't feel so stuffy.

It took longer to leave the room than it should have, but that couldn't be helped, given the small steps I took and the way I paused occasionally to use the candlelight to illuminate the dark parts of the room. Finally making it into the hallway, I shut the door behind me and just lingered there for a moment, listening out for any signs of movement. The last thing I wanted was to run into one of the occupants of the house. Or worse still, be the reason they were awake at this time of night in the first place.

Slowly making my way through the hallway, I took the time to scan the Potter family home. On my way up to the bedroom I hadn't taken the time to look around, and even when I'd joined the family for what I was sure was the first of many awkward dinners, I'd headed straight to my destination and back. Maybe I should have taken the time to look around because it was such a beautiful home.

I continued my exploration before coming across a window that, unlike the one in my room, wasn't closed off by a set of closed curtains. Approaching the window, I rested the candle on the window sill and looked up at the moon. It was strange how something that seemed so menacing in my dreams could be so wonderful now that it was casting light down onto me. Briefly, I contemplated opening this window as well before deciding against it. There was the distant sound of a door opening.

Heart in my throat, I stilled, my head running through all sorts of disastrous and downright dangerous situations. But there was a soft call of my name, by a voice that should not have made me as relieved as it did. Picking up the candle again, I turned my back to the window and faced Potter who hovered outside of, what I could only assume was his bedroom, with one hand still clinging to the doorknob.

Pulling the door shut the rest of the way, his eyes sleep-filled and tired behind glasses that sat crookedly on his nose, searched my features. It seemed, for a moment at least, that he was concerned about me. At my continued silence, he closed the distance between us until he was standing not so far from me.

Potter stood before me, dressed in his pyjamas and shuffling for a moment - just a single moment - on his feet. "Is something wrong, Redd?"

I shook my head and when it looked like he didn't believe me, I insisted in a voice far quieter than his, "I'm fine."

His frown was fleeting as he checked once more, in a voice that felt too loud for this time of night, "Are you sure?"

"Positive." Before he could ask again, or even come to some conclusion about what I was doing out of bed in the middle of the night, I motioned behind him. "Can I squeeze past?"

"Oh." Coughing, likely to cover up the awkward smattering of red across his cheeks, Potter stepped aside. "Sorry about that."

"It's alright."

Giving him a wide berth, I walked around Potter and returned with quicker steps to the guest room. Shutting the door behind me, I pressed my back against it and searched the dark of the room again. Now that I'd spent some time away, it wasn't so overwhelming anymore. It wasn't stuffy or frightening. Then again, it hadn't been the room itself that had been frightening in the first place, it had been the lingering presence of an aggressive figure who could, at any point, make me an orphan.

Hurriedly dismissing the thought before it could take me back to that mindset, I approached the closed curtains. Cracking them open a little, just enough for a beam of moonlight to enter the room, I returned to the waiting bed. Putting the candle onto the bedside table, I lay down on the bed again. Turning on my side to face the candle, I stared into the flame. For some reason, it reminded me of Potter's eyes. His eyes certainly weren't the colour of the flame and yet, they held its illuminating warmth.

Throughout dinner when he'd attempted to involve me in conversation and break me out of my shell, his eyes had the same warmth. I hadn't answered any of his questions with more than a four-word answer, only because I was so uncomfortable. I didn't think I'd ever spoken to Potter for more than a minute before arriving here. I could have said something, anything, to answer his questions even just to make it seem like he wasn't having a one-sided conversation. Salazar, I probably seemed so strange.

Sighing, I leaned forward, blowing out the candle and once more plunging the room into almost darkness. But, with the moonlight pouring in, it was less daunting to sleep. Closing my eyes, I curled the blanket under my chin and fell asleep dar warier than I had the first time that night.

**********

My sleep, aided by the moonlight as my guide, was as dreamless and as deep as I could have hoped for. When I finally managed to wake, it was later in the morning than I usually woke up, and the moonlight had long since been replaced by bright sunlight.

For a moment, I contemplated rolling over and trying to sleep once more, knowing that I had not slept so well since finding out that were planning on returning to work for a very specific mission. But a memory, sharp and sudden entered my mind - yesterday Mrs Potter had invited me to join them all for breakfast this morning. Given the time and her continued attempts to make me comfortable, there was a chance that I'd kept them waiting.

Mortified and hoping I was wrong, I leapt from the bed. Quickly changing my clothes and preparing for the day, I stared at my reflection and smoothed down stray strands of my hair. I didn't want to look like I'd just woken up, even though I had. Considering my long hair, I tied it up and out of the way; it was just so much more practical this way.

I made my way downstairs, listening out for the distant sounds of chatter or laughter that always seemed to fill the halls of the Potter family home. There was none. Perhaps they hadn't waited for me, and maybe I was going to trouble the family elves by asking for breakfast after the family had already eaten. Maybe a restful night's sleep wasn't worth it when it put so many beings out of their way.

Reaching the bottom floor, I walked towards the dining room and finally heard someone's voice. It was Mrs Potter. Following the sound of her voice, I found her standing in the kitchen, fiddling with something in a pot and working alongside the house elves who chattered between themselves. For a moment, I just stood there in surprise at seeing her working with the house elves and hoped she would recognise me. Quickly realising she was too focused on whatever she was stirring, I cleared my throat.

"Mrs Potter," I started, making the older witch look at me with a smile. "I'm sorry I slept in, I hope you didn't wait for me."

"Oh no, don't worry about that." When it became obvious that I was hesitant to believe her, she insisted, "My sons wake up at random times in the morning, usually closer to the afternoon. So by the standards of my home, you're up early."

"That's a relief," I said faintly, uncertain of what else to say.

"You can go and take a seat at the table, the house-elves will bring you some breakfast."

"Thank you," I said to the room, addressing the house elves and Mrs Potter at the same time.

Knowing that this conversation wasn't one I could draw out, I turned and retreated to the dining room. Walking into the room I expected to find myself alone and stopped still in surprise at finding Potter already sitting there, with no Black in sight.

"Morning Redd," Potter said, voice rough from lack of use and looking up like he knew just when I'd entered the room.

"Good morning," I returned, approaching the table.

Stopping in front of the chair across from his, I hesitated, contemplating if it was better to sit opposite him or take another seat. But, realising that he was looking at me and considering me as if unable to understand my hesitation, I pulled the chair out from under the table. Sitting down opposite Potter, I glanced around the dining room, doing anything not to look at him.

"Tea? Coffee?" Realising he was addressing me, I looked back to Potter who was gesturing to a teapot and coffee pot in the centre of the table. "If you prefer, I can get some juice or -"

"Tea, please. But don't worry, I can - "

My protests were pointless. With murmured spells and waving his wand, Potter placed an empty teacup and saucer in front of me, before pouring some well-brewed tea into the cup. Wordless setting the sugar pot and milk in front of me, he returned to his own cup of tea.

"Thanks, Potter."

He shrugged, not looking at me. "It's no problem."

I was saved from having to engage in conversation when a pair of house-elves entered the room, carrying plates full of a big breakfast. When the plate was set in front of me, I thanked the house elves, wondering how anyone could possibly finish this much food. Although peering up from beneath my lashes, I watched Potter who seemed to be giving it a good go. Maybe he needed to consume this much for his well-formed Quidditch muscles? Or teenage boys just eat like pigs?

Either way, I lacked his obvious enthusiasm as I wondered where to begin. Picking up a forkful of eggs, I raised them to my mouth. I chewed thoroughly until I heard Potter calling my name.

Swallowing, I looked at the Gryffindor who sat with his head tilted, considering me. "How did you sleep last night?"

I shrugged slightly, looking at my plate and pushing the eggs about slightly. "Well."

Potter, like he knew I was lying or at least partially lying, narrowed his eyes at me. I expected him to push, that was certainly in line with what I knew of the Gryffindor personality type. But he didn't. Instead, he switched topics so swiftly that I was grateful for it. "What have you got planned for today?"

Picking up my knife, I cut my sausage into small chunks. "Nothing much."

"No?" He took the opening to speak excitedly about the plans he and Black had made for the day. It had something to do with the cauldron they had been carrying yesterday and apparently, it would all come to fruition. "You should join us, it'll be fun. And besides, you'll get to explore more of my home."

But I knew an empty offer when I heard one. Potter continued to look at me expectantly, and I held his stare, wondering how to turn down his offer, even if he'd made it just to be polite. Gently shaking m head, I averted my eyes. "Thanks for the offer Potter, but I'm going to owl my friends back. I might be a while so it's better that I'm not in the way."

"Oh." He sounded far more disappointed than made sense. "Ok, maybe next time, then?"

"Maybe."

**********

Once more, I was forced awake in the middle of my fretful sleep by a nightmare. Every night since they'd first begun, I'd woken in the same way, with the same rapidly racing heartbeat and cold sweat cooling my forehead. But still, every night I went to bed with the same foolish hope that just one night, just this night, I would sleep without a single nightmare and without my worry manifesting in a way that robbed me of my rest. Each night my hopes were dashed.

Like every night before, now that I'd woken up, I just laid there for a moment, trying my best to force the remnants of the nightmare back. Blowing out a deep breath, I rubbed at my tired eyes.

I looked at the curtains that were cracked open a little, as they were each night since my first arrival at the Potter family home, I realised that it wasn't moonlight filtering into the room. The early rays of the morning sun had arrived and I knew for certain that there was no chance of me falling asleep. There were a couple of hours left until my alarm was supposed to go off and I would spend more time trying to fall asleep than getting any rest. Left with nothing to do but get up, I swung my legs over the mattress and stood up.

Opening the curtains and letting light properly into the room, I started to get ready for the day. That was another thing I wasn't used to - needing to get changed out of my pyjamas before leaving my room. Of course, at Hogwarts, I would change but this was a school holiday. If I was at home right now, I'd spend the entire day in my pyjamas if that was what I wanted to do, but here with the Potters and Black, I didn't want to be caught dressed in my pyjamas.

Changing my clothes and folding my pyjamas away, I washed my face and prepared for the day. Before leaving the room, I snagged the book I was reading from the bedside table and finally left the room. I made sure to make as little noise as possible, not wanting to wake any of the other occupants of the house. From what I'd heard last night, Mr Potter and the teenage boys had spent the majority of the night getting up to all sorts of mischief and they were probably still sleeping in. No wonder Mrs Potter was the only one who tended to wake up at a decent time of day.

Walking downstairs, I headed straight for the drawing-room, hoping not the run into one of the house-elves. The creatures, always so willing to serve, refused to accept that you needed no help and would continue to linger in case you needed anything. Hopefully, they were still asleep as well.

Continuing on my way to the room, I let out a startled shriek when instead of being the only person awake, there was already someone else there. Slapping a hand over my mouth to smother the sound, I looked through wide eyes at Potter who looked the picture of surprise and struggled to hide a very suspicious-looking package behind his back.

Releasing where my eyes were, Potter let out a sheepish laugh. Bringign the package out from behind him, he held it in front of him and tried to explain, "I thought you were mum."

"Lucky for you I'm not," I said, fiddling with the dangling tassels of my bookmark.

"You have no idea." Now that he was no longer skulking around and trying to remain hidden from his mother's wise eyes, he had that relaxed Potter swagger back. Rocking back on his heels, he commented, "You're up early."

"So are you."

"I had to intercept a parcel." Potter lifted the box for emphasis and I considered the large square cardboard box. Just what was hidden in there? And why was it so important that he had to wake up ridiculously early after a late night, to make sure that no one saw it? "If Mum saw it, well .. let's just say that you'd hear such colourful language that you'd doubt how it could come out of my little mum."

Unable to fight a smile, I shifted the book from one hand to the other. This Potter, standing confidently in front of me with that typical sunshine smile was more like the Potter I knew. He wasn't shuffling from one foot to the other or avoiding my eyes. Perhaps he'd only just needed the time to get used to my presence. Salazar knew that I wouldn't be acting like my normal self if someone from school became our family's guest for the summer.

"Redd," he started abruptly, looking away from me for the first time. A frown, fleeting and short, graced my face as I realised that the bashfulness was returning.

"What, Potter?"

"What have you got planned for the day?"

Gesturing to the book I'd carried down, I said lamely, "I was just going to finish this today. But apart from that, I haven't got anything planned."

"And how long do you think it'll take you to finish it? Do you think you'll finish it before breakfast?" Like he knew how strange I was finding his sudden questioning, he cleared his throat, looking flustered. Jostling the box he still held, he explained, "If you don't have anything else to do today, maybe you can hang around with me and Padfoot. You can be a lookout if you want - you won't have to get too involved."

It was my turn to shift hesitantly as Potter looked expectantly t me. How was anyone supposed to turn him down when his eyes were so hopeful? Still, I tried, "I'm not too sure about that. I don't think I'd be the best company."

"I disagree." His answer was so confident that I regarded him with thinly veiled surprise. "If it helps any, I'd like it if you spent the day with me - us. With us."

Stripped of the ability to say anything, I watched Potter with a strange sense of discovery. Unwilling to fixate on it, not yet, I struggled to form a sentence. "I-"

"I think you'd be good company, even if you're a Slytherin." His teasing words, paired with the one dimpled smile he was giving me, threw me for a moment. Despite looking like the usual Potter, he didn't look right ... there was a vulnerability there, hidden behind his screen of arrogance.

For some reason, disappointing Potter was the last thing I wanted to do. At least today. "And you're sure?"

"Without a doubt."

"... Ok."

"Really?" For a second, he just looked at me, his face the epitome of disbelief. "I - alright - well, Pads is going to meet me here soon so, um, you can read while we wait. I guess."

Saving Potter from having to stumble over his words any longer, I walked around him and into the drawing-room. Taking a seat on the sofa, I crossed one leg over the other at the knee and got comfortable. Opening the book, I removed my bookmark and set it aside. There were barely 40 pages left until I finished it and I'd left it in the middle of the climax. It should have been easy to pick it up again and continue from where I'd left off. And yet, suddenly, the written word was far less interesting when compared to Potter who had followed me into the room.

Peeking from under my lashes, I watched as Potter sat on the floor and set about opening the box. He was rifling through its contents and I didn't even attempt to peek to see what was in there. Instead, I was fascinated with the long messy hair at the front of his head that was falling past his forehead with his head stuck into the box. Salazar's soul, I wanted to push it out of the way.

Before I could berate myself for thinking that, Potter looked up suddenly and caught me in my appraisal. His eyebrows rose in surprise, colour rushing to his cheeks. Ears burning, I wanted to look away, or to even pretend I was daydreaming. I found myself unable to look away from his eyes.

Soft and hesitant, like he was worried about scaring me away, he asked, "What's been keeping you up at night, Redd?"

For some reason, for some stupid reason that I couldn't even think about - that I didn't want to think about - I didn't want to lie to him. But, I didn't want to give him the entire truth either. "I've just been having nightmares."

"Nightmares?" he repeated and I hoped he wouldn't ask me what they were about.

Whether he was or wasn't planning on doing it, he didn't have the chance to ask me. Black, far too peppy and whistling a tune under his breath, walked into the room and his presence shattered the stillness of the space around us. Averting my eyes, I looked back to my book and pretended to be reading whilst Black and Potter talked, the conversation lingering for a moment on my presence in the drawing-room.

Eventually, the two friends were settled on the floor with their heads bowed over some parchment. Occasionally, I would catch Potter looking at me, like he wanted to say something but, seeing me still pretending to read, he decided against it each time. If his eyes lingered for a little longer, he would've realised that I was just pretending and that I was watching the pair curiously. Did either of them realise that I hadn't turned a single page since I'd Black had walked into the room?

"Redd?" Black called out suddenly, making me lift my head. The Gryffindor, lying on his front, propped his chin on his hand. Tilting his head to one side, he considered me before checking, "You're decent at charms, right?"

"More than decent," I confirmed, slipping the bookmark in to mark my place. Not that I'd read more than two pages this morning.

Patting the floorspace between him and Potter, he ordered, "Down you come, then."

Looking cautiously between the pair, my eyes settled on Potter who shuffled further to one side as if to make more space for me. Rising to my feet, I joined the Gryffindors and instead of lying down between them in a show of some sort of camaraderie, I instead sat cross-legged next to Potter.

"What do you need me for?"

Wordlessly, Black handed me the pieces of paper that they'd been working on and I took the time to read it through. When I reached the end of their notes, I saw what the problem was and what they needed help with. I was fairly certain that I could help. Searching for a quill, I set the parchment aside and started, realising that Potter was still lying down beside me. But, his head was propped up and facing me as if he was watching me. Realising that I'd caught him, he hurriedly looked away.

Black coughed pointedly, sounding far too amused when he asked, "Well?"

Shifting my attention to the other Gryffindor, I reached for one of the quills they'd been using. Writing down the incantation, I warned, "You're going to have to practice it first, though. This is not the sort of incantation you want to wing."

"You know Redd," Black started, drawing out my surname until it was made up of two syllables instead of one. He shuffled forward, grabbing the parchment and drawing it back between them, "You're not so bad after all."

"Thanks, I guess?"

**********

For the first time, I was unsure of how time had passed so quickly. The majority of my day was spent between Black and Potter, emphasising the importance of practice and trial runs to Black who was all too willing to risk it all, to risk wasting all their planning on a single trial. He had a very fuck it, let's just give it a go attitude that really was all the reasoning behind him not being sorted into Slytherin. He lacked the patience to see things through. Through it all, Potter sat right there, contributing to the discussion but making no decisions. Even when his best friend complained about his silence and called him a traitor for being so easily swayed by a pair of lingering eyes, Potter made a vague comment about that not being the case. I didn't even dare ask.

When dinner passed and night finally fell, I was all too ready to get to bed. Gryffindors weren't as bad as I'd thought, but they sure drained my social battery until I was left physically tired. Still, I knew that it wouldn't be enough. It would still take me some time to fall asleep and the nightmare would persist. I knew I wasn't tired enough to forgo the fitful night.

Reaching the top of the stairs, I continued onto my room, turning the corner and stopping in my step when I realised someone was leaning against the wall across from the door, seemingly waiting there. It was Potter, who was tapping his foot in an uncertain, awkward rhythm against the floor. Continuing on my way towards him, I reached the bedroom door. It would be so easy to just walk into the room and pay him no heed. But I didn't.

Instead, I reached out for the doorknob. Cradling it in my palm and preparing to open the door the moment I wanted to end this conversation, I shifted my eyes inquisitively to Potter. He met my gaze front on, in that deep and heart stuttering way that only he seemed to manage. Salazar. Those eyes alone were the reason that having a long conversation with him was so hard.

"Did you need more help?" I asked, uncertain.

Potter shook his head, straightening up from where he was resting on the wall. He held my eyes another moment, a single beat and then he was giving me the sort of smile that was doing something strange to me. Without a word, he crossed the short space of the corridor, reaching out and grasping my free hand.

"What- "

Over his shoulder, he offered me another smile, one that was wider and reached his eyes. The words died on the tip of my tongue and I could only follow after Potter as he took off, setting off into a jog and bringing me after him. I matched his pace, looking in confusion at the back of Potter's head before my eyes shifted once more to our clasped hands. The sight of my hand dwarfed so easily and held so securely in his hand, startled me into action.

"Potter," I started, tugging softly on my hand. The action, not enough to break free from his hold, had him stopping straight in his step. I caught myself in time, stopping just before I ran right into him.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked quickly, hurriedly dropping my hand. When I shook my head, he considered me slowly, "Then what?"

"I just - what's going on?"

"Nothing too serious," was all he offered before once more taking my hand. I noticed that this time, he was holding my hand far looser than the first time. Some stupid part of me missed the clasp of his hold on mine. When he smiled next, it was the sort of mischievous smile that usually came before what was likely to be an infamous act of mischief. "Come on."

This time, when Potter took off into a jog, I didn't protest. I just followed right behind him, wondering where we were going but knowing not to ask too many questions. Something told me that speaking too often would likely attract attention from his parents and we weren't supposed to be seen. Finally, when we reached a part of the Potter family home that I'd yet to explore, Potter dropped my hand. We stood before a door that looked like every other door in the house. But there had to be something behind it. Or else, why were we here?

Opening the door, Potter gestured for me to follow after him and I did. The room, sparsely decorated and seemingly untouched for some time, had a balcony that I wasn't sure I'd seen from the back. The two glass doors that led to the balcony were locked and Potter approached them without another word, unlocking the door with a murmured spell. I lingered behind him, trailing my hand over the nearby table and lifting my fingertip towards a vase of flowers that appeared to have been under a stasis charm. Lifting my eyes, I looked around the room, wondering just what this was used for.

"Redd?" I turned back to Potter who stood in front of the doors, beckoning me forward. Only when I motioned to join him did he go out first.

Crossing the space between us, I stopped still on the threshold. Potter who stood on the small balcony, offered me a wide grin at the sight of my terrified face. "Are you planning on getting up on the roof?"

"Course I am." He used his wand to bring something down and I watched, with wild distress, as a ladder, that didn't look all too trustworthy, appeared. Potter set it against the roof, extending a hand towards me. "Don't be a wuss, Redd."

"It's called having a survival instinct," I shot back as I joined him on the small space of the balcony. Tilting my head back, I stared dubiously up the ladder that led to the tiled roof. "Something you clearly lack."

"Don't be scared." Before I could bite back that his words were doing little to calm me, Potter held his hand once more for me to take. "If you want, I can go up first to show you, or I can go up after and hold this ladder steady for you.."

"Or ... I can turn around and go back."

"You could." He agreed instantly, even as he probed, "But isn't there some part of you that wants to follow this through?"

Falling silent in my contemplations, I looked at the hand that was still there, waiting for me to take it. Bypassing it, I reached for the ladder and threw another dubious glance to the top of the ladder. "Come up after me."

Breathing in deeply, I let it out slowly before taking the first step. I clung to the rail, holding onto it and knowing how easy it would be to go back. But I didn't. I took my time to climb up, probably far longer than Potter appreciated, before eventually reaching the top. I lingered there for a moment, wondering how to go about this final step until I decided to just get it over with. First with one leg, then the other, I clambered onto the roof and took the time to sit securely. Salazar's soul, this was what socialising with Gryffiindors got you - sitting on a bloody roof.

"You alright, Redd?" Potter called up from below.

"Fine," I called back, not sounding too fine and not willing to tempt peering over the roof to see his face because I didn't want to fall.

"Alright, I'm coming up."

It took him far less time than it took me to reach the roof. When he got to the top, he offered me a charming smile and made no efforts to take light steps as he settled onto the roof. He was as sure-footed as he was on the ground. Eventually, he settled beside me in silence and for the strangest reason, I was reassured that he was here with me. At least if I fell, he was old enough to cast a spell to break my fall. If he knew it that was - did he know it? Salazar, I hoped he did.

Crossing my legs under me, I stared out into the darkened night setting of the Potter family garden. Gathering my hands in my lap, I closed my eyes at the feeling of the wind running through my hair. Perhaps this wasn't so bad after all.

Eyes still closed, I asked, "Why are we up here?"

"I used to do this all the time," he confessed quietly. Opening my eyes, I looked to Potter who leaned back onto his palms, head tilted up towards the sky. "When I was younger, before Hogwarts, I used to have nightmares all the time. My dad would bring me out here - of course without mum knowing - and we'd sit here until I was ready to go in."

He'd thought of this for me. It wasn't an illogical leap to make and I was certain that if I said it to him, he wouldn't disagree. Still, I didn't say it. Instead, I just watched as Potter opened his eyes and met my stare. His eyes were doing that thing again, where he was staring right into my soul and I couldn't possibly look away.

Faintly, and still looking at me, Potter guessed, "It must be the fresh air."

I couldn't offer an explanation of any sort. Not when Potter leaned forward towards me suddenly. I drew in a sharp breath, holding it and looking with wide eyes as he extended a hand out towards me. My lungs were beginning to ache, but I just kept looking at Potter - Potter with his bloody wonderful eyes - as he drew something out of my hair. He shifted a little bit away and I released the breath, looking to the leaf he'd plucked from my hair. Releasing it back into the wind, Potter shifted his eyes towards me. I continued looking resolutely ahead, not willing to do anything to bring Potter back into my personal space. Because surely - no I was certain that I hadn't imagined it. His eyes had definitely flickered to my lips when he was close.

Rolling my lips together, I peeked at Potter from the corner of my eyes. Now, why did I wish he had? At my side, Potter shifted like he was uncomfortable before we settled into silence. When the night deepened, we reluctantly made our way back down. Potter went first, leading the way and I followed soon after. He was waiting for me at the bottom, extending a hand out towards me and helping me off the ladder. With a murmured spell, the ladder disappeared and then he walked me back to my room. The walk back was long, far longer than it had seemed on the way there, and it was filled with an awkward silence.

When I walked into the room, I fell face-first onto the bed. For the first time, my nightmares had been switched out with dreams of Potter and a starlit night.

**********

The train ride back to Hogwarts was strange. Not only had people who were not my parents dropped me off at the station, but I'd actually contemplated taking Potter up on his offer to join his friends in their carriage. Maintaining enough of my sense to decline the offer, I headed off in search of my friends who I knew, from six years of experience, had already snagged us a cabin. Walking inside and settling my trunk into the overhead carrier, I greeted my friends before rifling through my side bag. My parents had left a letter for Mrs Potter to give to me when we reached the station and I wanted to read it before the train set off. Or maybe, depending on what was written inside it, it would be better to read it when I was in the safety of our dorm.

Lena made my decision for me. Sitting across from me, she tapped her shoe against mine to get my attention, "So? Isn't there something you should be telling us?"

Mind blank, I looked between Lena and Ansley. "Is there?"

Ansley shared a look with Lena, rolling her eyes. "Oh please, you're supposed to tell us about your summer with Potter. That's what you said in all your letters, isn't it? That you'll tell us in person."

"Actually Dukas," I corrected as the train departed from the station, "I said I'd tell you only if something happened."

"And nothing happened?" Lena arched a dubious eyebrow. She didn't seem convinced and I didn't know why she wanted to know if something had happened, anyway. Salazar knew that she would only wonder if spending time with Gryffindors had lowered my taste.

"Nothing happened." Even when I put emphasis on the words, they didn't believe me right away. "It was an exceptionally boring summer."

They believed they knew me well enough to know when I was lying, they believed they knew all my tells and because they hadn't seen any, they trusted me. Not that there was anything they shouldn't have believed. Because after all, nothing had happened over the summer. Well, not in the way they were thinking about. Over the course of the summer, I'd come to a rather distressing realisation about Potter's pretty eyes and even prettier smile, but I wasn't willing to let them into that particular revelation yet. Not when I was still struggling with it myself.

A knock on the carriage door brought the conversation to an end as Ansley opened the door. On the other side stood Evans, already dressed in her school robes and offering me a pleasant smile. Her eyes shifted to my friends, her smile straining in the face of their disapproval; they already knew why she was here.

"Shouldn't this be happening later?" Lena protested.

I was quick to speak over her, spying the Head Girl badge pinned to her robes, "We're having the Prefect meeting early this year?"

"Yeah, so we can work out the patrol schedule for the journey." The Gryffindor turned to leave before pausing and adding, "10 minutes, Redd."

"Let me just change and I'll join you."

Accepting my words, Evans walked further down the train, scouring each carriage to see if any of them held a Prefect. Avoiding the pleading eyes of my friends, and knowing they were only going to complain, I reached for my uniform. It wasn't the end of the world, after the meeting, I'd come back here and we could talk until it was time for me to do an hour's worth of patrolling. The journey was long and there would be plenty of time to catch up. Saying goodbye and promising to return soon, I found the nearest bathroom and changed quickly.

Emerging from the cramped bathroom, I searched the corridor for the other Slytherin sixth year Prefect but he was nowhere in sight. Slowly, more Prefects emerged from their cabins, dressed in their uniforms, and heading towards the Prefect's carriage.

Straightening out my robes, I approached the carriage and lingered in the doorway. Peering inside, I searched out for my patrol partner, the bastard was never on time last year and for some reason, the last Head Girl had held me responsible for his own immaturity. I was not going through that another year. I would argue with Evans on that if I had to.

Sighing and not spying Fletcher, I prepared to turn around and hunt down my housemate. Turning around, I started in surprise at how close the person behind me had been standing. Gathering myself, I processed who was behind me and my mouth parted in shock.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing here?" I asked of Potter who grinned down at me. It only grew when he pointed to the Head Boy badge pinned to his robes. For some reason, I was a little stung that he hadn't told me, which in itself was ridiculous.

"Don't ask me why I was chosen," he said simply. Nodding and preparing to step around him, my eyes darted up to Potter's when his arms shot out to block my way. "Where're you headed? The meeting's about to start?"

"I need to find someone."

"You can find them later." Grasping me by the shoulders, he spun me around and led me into the carriage, ignoring my struggles and the looks we were getting from the occupants of the carriage at the familiar way he was handling me. Realising that we were getting too much attention, I stopped struggling and Potter's hands slipped from my shoulders to grasp my arms. Reaching the nearest empty seat, I settled down and faced resolutely ahead. I just needed him to go and join his partner at the front.

"Redd." Potter remained lingering by my seat, earnest eyes staring down into mine. "Don't disappear after, alright? I want to have a word."

Nodding once and returning his smile, I watched as Potter walked to the front of the carriage. He and Evans spoke between themselves, preparing for the meeting and I watched their interaction for a moment longer before my eyes shifted to the person who joined me at my table.

Fletcher. He grinned. "What did I miss?"

"Almost the start of the meeting," I said pointedly, ignoring the appeasing smile he tried to throw my way. "You can suffer by yourself this year. Any rounds I'm supposed to have with you, I'm going to switch. That's a promise."

"No need to be catty." Refusing to say another word, I crossed my arms and waited for the start of the meeting which began with Evans introducing both herself and Potter as the Head Boy and Head Girl. "Redd - why is Potter glaring at me?"

"Of course, he's not glaring at you," I hissed under my breath, eyes flickering to Potter who was frowning in a very unsubtle way at Fletcher. "Maybe because you were late, now shut up and listen."

When Fletcher looked like he was going to bug me again, I withdrew my wand from my pocket and aimed it suggestively in his direction. He wisely fell silent. Throughout the rest of the meeting, I listened to the same rules as they were repeated back to us once more. The beginning was always the most boring bit and dragged on but when the patrol schedules for the term were handed out, people snapped back into attention.

Accepting a copy and handing the spares to Fletcher, I searched for my rounds. By some sort of miracle, I didn't have a single round with Fletcher. Although, I did appear to have multiple late-night rounds with the Head Boy as my partner. The realisation had my gaze shifting to Potter who stood at the front of the carriage, announcing the patrol pattern for the rest of the journey to Hogwarts.

We were dismissed and the first set of Prefects took off, beginning their patrols even before the academic year had begun. I planned to leave the carriage, to return to Lena and Ansley until I remembered that I'd promised Potter that I would wait for him. So I did wait. Settled at the table, I crossed my ankles and waited for Potter to approach me. If he forgot, then I could always just leave, so -

"You waited." I could hear the smile in his voice even before I looked up into his face. Sure enough, standing over me, was a grinning Potter.

"I said I would."

"I'm glad you waited anyway." Settling into the seat next to me, he rested his arms on the table in front of us. He shifted in his chair, angling his body towards me. "So, how did I do? Did I sound like a Head Boy?"

"Well, the Head Boy last year was a tosser," I confessed, searching the now near-empty Prefect's carriage. "So you don't want to sound too much like him. But you did well."

"Good. I was nervous,"

Surprised by his confession, by the idea that anything could make him nervous, I asked, "You were?"

Nodding, Potter nudged me with his shoulder. "Don't sound so surprised Redd. I get nervous all the time." When I scoffed, folding the rounds schedule in half, he insisted, "I do. Like you - you make me so fucking nervous. All the time."

My hand slowed in their motions and I became hyper-aware of the eyes trained on the side of my face. Salazar, I just knew that I wouldn't survive looking into his eyes at that moment. "So - these rounds, why are we sharing so many of them? I know you've never done them before so you're probably better suited being paired with Evans who's been a Prefect since her fifth year and-"

"Is that a problem?" he cut off my rambling, "That we're sharing so many rounds? You don't want to spend that time with me?"

I let my silence answer his question. Instead, I turned to look at him, holding his eyes and speaking softly, "I need you to be honest with me, alright? I don't want to rush into something and get hurt so just tell me the truth; are you flirting with me?"

"Are you- " He shook his head incredulously," Have you only just noticed? Really?"

"You were never blunt," I tried to justify.

"Well, I'm being blunt now and I'd appreciate it if you were blunt in return."

Silently, I held his eyes and watched as, under my eyes, he grew progressively less confident. It was a strange look on him, one that had always looked strange on him and yet now, it was endearing. How was I supposed to tell him that I wasn't sure of how to verbalise the multiple thoughts going through my head? So I didn't even attempt it.

Instead, I shifted in my chair to face him until our knees brushed. He still looked at me in silence, waiting for me to respond in some way. Reaching out quickly, I fisted his robes between two hands and forcefully drew him towards me. I knew, that if he didn't want to be moved then I absolutely would not have been able to do it. Yet, he didn't resist as I pulled him closer until no space remained between us so I could kiss him, just like I'd been preoccupied with doing from that night on the roof. He let out a relieved breath against my mouth, lifting a large hand to cradle my face close to his. Even when I drew back, flustered and with my face on fire, he kept me close, looking at me with eyes so soft I couldn't help but smile. He smiled back, leaning forward to brush his nose against mine.

"You know," he hummed pleasantly, "you and I are supposed to start patrolling in an hour. I wonder what we could do to fill the time."

"You," I laughed, pushing him away from me, "are out of your mind."

"Why?" He feigned innocence, "I was going to ask you to talk me through the patrol routes. What was going through your head, Redd?" Laughing, he closed his robes over his chest, drawing away from me as he murmured, "Looks like I'm going to have to protect my honour from you."

**********

4 YEARS LATER

It was strange how time passed. The last year had both passed at a snail's pace and yet each day seemed to drag. It was already one year from the final stand against Voldemort and his inevitable fall and already one year from the day he took my parents down with him. Today was supposed to be a day of celebration, of thanks, and yet I wasn't in a very thankful mood. Those of us who could bring ourselves to return to school had gathered at Hogwarts, standing witness as Professor Dumbledore took to the front of the hall and spoke about the past year. He took his time honouring those that had given their lives so that we could all live in freedom. And I appreciated each sacrifice, I truly did, but why had I been one of the people to lose the most?

Salazar, it made me ungrateful and played into so many stereotypes of my house, and yet sometimes I wished it hadn't been me, that it had been someone else. Even now as I stood off to one corner of the hall, my eyes would flicker through the crowd and linger on members of the crowd who had lost no one. They didn't know the loss and yet they continued to nod as if they understood it all the same. How could they? I regretted those thoughts as quickly as they came.

An arm, steadying as always, settled firmly around my shoulder. I didn't need to look to my left to know that it was James who now stood so comfortingly against me. Silently, he continued to listen to Professor Dumbledore and drew me towards him. Wrapping my arm around his waist, I turned into James's side. Burrowing my head against his shoulder, I took in a deep breath of his soothing scent, letting it calm me just the way it had in the months following my parents' deaths. James wrapped his free arm around me as well, cradling me securely as he continued to listen. At least one of us was listening. I was too busy using James to drown out Dumbledore's words. I wasn't ready to listen to him yet. No, my brain was too occupied with something else.

When Profesor Dumbledore was done speaking, the hall broke into smatterings of applause and rather than drawing away from James, I just reached around him to join in. All around us the crowd of returned students mingled and for some, caught up after having not seen one another for years. I took the cue to move away from James, not that he let me move too quickly.

"Sweetheart," he stated slowly, keeping his head near my own so no one else could breach our privacy. He brushed his nose gently against the shell of my ear before kissing me on the forehead. I closed my eyes at the contact, "Are you alright?"

"I'm alright," I said, drawing back from him. This time, James let me go. Not that I moved far. When he searched my face with concerned eyes, I offered him a reassuring smile, "I mean it. I'm missing Mum and Dad. That's it."

And he understood, better than most people would. The loss of parents was grief we shared, the grief we'd helped one another through. In that moment of shared eye contact, there were a million words exchanged and I couldn't ask for me. Stepping forward, James reached out and grasped my hands in his. He held them steady, drawing me forward and leaning down to give me a gentle kiss. I rose onto my toes, returning it and smiling against his mouth. No matter how tough this day was, he remained a steady, soothing presence.

Drawing back, James asked, "Do you want to head home? Everyone's just catching up and I know you're not in the mood for small talk."

I definitely was not in the mood for small talk and yet, my eyes flickered over his shoulder toward his closest friends. The two friends he'd yet to speak to since we'd returned from our honeymoon because we'd found ourselves too occupied with settling our family estates. There was so much there they needed to catch up over and I didn't want to cut this short for them.

"Don't you want to talk to Sirius and Remus?"

"It's fine." When I continued to watch him dubiously, he insisted, "They're coming to ours tomorrow for brunch anyway."

"They are?"

"Oh." He offered me a sheepish smile, "Did I forget to mention it? Do you want me to cancel?"

"No, no. Just remind me that we need to go shopping before we go home."

He kissed me again, trying to make up for blindsiding me, "You're wonderful. Are you sure you don't want to get out of here?"

"Before that," I reached for his hand, linking our fingers together, "can we go for a walk? It's been so long since we were here."

Hand in hand we made our way through the Great Hall, squeezing through the crowd of people who continued to approach us to congratulate us on our new nuptials. Every time we were made to stop, he apologetically squeezed my hands and handled all the small talk before we finally made our way out of the Great Hall. We walked together in silence, not needing to fill it with any words. We continued to walk and even without mentioning a destination, we both knew just where we were headed.

Leaving the castle, we approached the greenhouses and when we were close enough, James dropped my hand. He jogged forward to greenhouse number 7 which was for some reason never used. Which was just as good for us, considering the number of times we'd snuck into it to get some time alone.

I lingered back, watching as James unlocked the door and set about warding it with all manner of spells to keep people away. Salazar, this took me back to our year spent together in Hogwarts. When he'd finished his wandwork, James looked at me with the same handsome smile and the same eager extended hand. All too readily, I went to his side and followed his lead into the greenhouse.

Stepping inside, I shut the door behind us and looked around. Scrunching my nose in disgust, I wondered, "Has this place even been cleaned since we were last in here? It can't have gone four years without being cleaned, surely?"

"I have no idea why this place is still here." His smile shifted, growing more suggestive as he approached me. "Lucky for us, it's still here."

I let myself be led, like all those years ago, until my back hit the counter of the table behind me. Taking me by the waist, James lifted me onto the surface and I reached for him, drawing him between my parted thighs. I expected him to kiss me the way he always did, but he didn't. Pressing his hands on either side of me, he considered me for a moment, tilting his head.

"What?" I asked, lifting a hand to his hair.

"Feel like talking about it?" he probed softly, making my smile fade.

Looping my arms around his neck, I drew James closer to me until our chests were brushing. Leaning forward, I rested my forehead against his own. "Both our parents had one wish - they wanted to see their grandkid before they passed, remember?"

Nodding silently, James's eyes flickered between my own. It could have gone without saying and he didn't need me to say it. But I leaned forward, pressing my lips against his shoulder, "I think I'm pregnant."

I felt James's chest move as he took in a deep breath but he spoke tentatively, resting his head against mine, "You think?"

"I haven't had the chance to take the test yet." It was a lie, and he deserved the truth. "That's not true, I'm just scared to take it, I guess."

"I'll be there." Straightening up, I looked up into James's eyes when he shrugged before saying, "It's just another thing to add to the shopping list. Whatever happens, we'll handle it. Alright?"

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me." James's hands reached out, clasping my waist as he lowered his head teasingly towards my own. "Although, if you do want to thank me; one more time? For old time's sake?"

"No!" I slapped his chest, making him wince.

Laughing and rubbing at the spot I'd hit him, he said, "Fine, fine, no need for violence."

Glancing behind him, I dubiously eyed the glass of the greenhouse. "Are you sure you cast all the spells?"

"As I'd ever forget," he said, already closing the space between us. All too eagerly, I drew him towards me and hoped that this wouldn't be like the one time where he had forgotten to cast a spell and we'd wound up with detention for a week. But, it wasn't like we were students anymore so really, what did it matter?

____________________

Onto the next one - I'm planning on posting that on the 27th, so a bit more of a wait for the next one. Here are the hints:

* Gryffindor

* Has many siblings

* Played on the Quidditch team at Hogwarts