Nicolai had found the days spent alone a complete convenience. Because she spent almost all of her time with Florence and Alexander, she had failed to appreciate how peaceful her contemplation was when she was by herself. Her thoughts had became much more comprehensive at this, not afraid that people would be able to see her thoughts.

Being alone had made her realize a whole bunch of stuff—a few of her realizations gave her some sort of anxiousness rather than the clarity of mind. It had dawned upon her that she has never heard neither Florence or Alexander talk about homosexuality.

What were their stands? Were they against it, did they support it? Nicolai couldn't really bear thinking that they were homophobic, and the percentage of the prospects of them being one was unknown. And it had frightened Nicolai to extremities.

She had felt a bit guilty for shunning her friends without a word of explanation. But she wanted them to understand, she had hoped that they would think nothing of it but just a few moments that she wanted to be by herself. But she was wrong, so wrong that she didn't even realize it until the moment she saw both of them plop down on the sofa across her, an obvious look of intense focus.

"What?" she asked skeptically, Florence's jaw tense.

"What do you mean, what? You avoid us for numerous days and all you could say is 'what'?" the brunette began exasperatedly, an uncharacteristic scowl on her face.  Nicolai could only recall a handful of times when she saw Florence as pissed as she was acting that moment—most occurring only after Quidditch games or changing of submissions for long essays. All she could do was deny, and deny some more.

But little did she know that her denial would get her nowhere, as Florence was positively hellbent on forcing the truth out of her. Florence knew it was wrong, as George said, they needed to wait until Nicolai wanted to spill the beans.

"What? Ignoring you? I've been busy, Flo. I had a lot of things on my plate. If you haven't noticed, Professor Snape's been breathing down my neck."

"Yeah? Well then you were too busy to even sit next to us at the Great Hall during meals then? Or perhaps talk to me before you go to sleep—I mean, it's not like we're on opposite wings of this damn castle, right? Our beds are right next to each other." Florence said pointedly.

Nicolai gave out an exasperated sigh, "I know that, Flo. I'm sorry. But you two did nothing wrong, I promise."

"Then what is it? Makes us understand, Nic." Alexander mumbled from where he sat beside Florence—whom he allowed to say the opening statement as he thought of other ways to make their persuasion a success. Florence was rather daunting, and he thought maybe they needed some of it now.

"Did George hurt you? Are you undergoing the stress and grief of a breakup? Are you pregnant—?"

"Florence." sighed Alexander, Nicolai's eyes widening at this.

"I'm sorry. I needed to ask. Are you pregnant with a Weasley baby, Nicolai?"

"No," she replied in some sort of half chortle and half startled voice, all the while staring at her best mates peculiarly. "No, why would you even think that? I mean, if that's your indirect way of saying I'm gaining weight then I would much prefer the more straightforward approach—"

"You're stirring us away from subject again!" Florence snapped frustratedly, "You absolutely cannot do that again Nic. I'm not leaving this couch until you explain to us what it is that's going on with you."

"We talked to George about it too, you know." Alexander added.

"And what did he say?" she asked nervously, beginning to doubt the trust that she had placed upon the redhead.

"Nothing, nothing relevant, really." Nicolai seemed to relax at Florence's words, "But he did mention that there was something we weren't able to piece together, also something about giving you enough time... Honestly, Nic, that's scaring me to lengthy measures."

"We're not forcing you to tell us, Nic..." Alexander began, Nicolai giving him an are-you-sure look, "Okay fine, maybe we are forcing you to tell us—only because we don't want you to go through whatever you're going through alone, alright? Florence and I are here, and we will understand..."

"Xander and I are your best mates, Nic. You should remember that you could confide in us with anything."

'Well, okay, how are we going to say this. Hey Florence, I'm bisexual. Right, it's funny isn't it? I've only realized until now... You know why, Xander? Because I feel like I fancy Jillian. And that's not all! Did you know she was gay as well? Yeah, she is. And now I've told you this, I'm sodding scared that you two might be homophobic and you might hate me and not be there for me when I go through this sexuality realization.'

Nicolai's mind was swarming with things that she wanted to say. But she, however, kept her lips tightly pursed as she searched for other option to skip this daunting confession. She was ready to tell both of them, she was ready a long time ago. Now she was only scared of how they were going to take it.

"Nic, say something." pleaded Florence.

"I'm not straight, Florence." she breathed out, her voice barely above a whisper. Florence could only make out her lips moving, she and Alexander frowning as they leaned their heads closer to Nicolai.

"We couldn't hear, Nic. Could you, perhaps, say it louder—"

"I said I'm not straight." she said again, this time louder and with much confidence. She had decided that she wouldn't care if they had a stand against what she felt she was. She just needed to get it off her chest, regardless of the consequences. She closed her eyes in preparation for the blow, only to have heard nothing preceding her confession.

Nicolai popped one eye open, only to see the other two with blank expressions on their face.

"...You know, I think this is the time when you decide to lose your shit in either a good or bad way." Nicolai suggested, making Alexander frown.

"You mean you were actually serious about that? You weren't joking?" he asked incredulously, utter confusion evident on both his and Florence's face. "I was going to comment about how that was officially the lamest joke you've produced in your whole life."

Nicolai flushed, "You thought I was joking?"

They nodded in sync.

"Well I'm not," she said, folding her arms over her chest, "I'm bisexual, Flo, Xan... I don't know why I've only realized this now but George said not everyone got to question their sexuality at a young age. I wanted some time alone so I could figure things out, and I was also scared, scared of coming out to you guys."

"Why were you scared?" said Florence.

"I was worried that you guys might not like me anymore...as a friend. It just occurred to me that we haven't really talked about sexual preferences and I didn't know if you were against anything—"

"Utter rubbish that is," scoffed Alexander, "Nic, we could really care less if you admitted that you weren't straight. We wouldn't really care even if you admitted that you were half banshee,—which is pretty obvious, even if you're really not— as long as you're the fun, obnoxious and caring friend we've known for a long time, then we still love you just the same."

Florence nodded in agreement, "Yeah, you're our friend, and petty things like that is insignificant to our friendship."

Nicolai felt as if she was going to tear up at any given moment, getting up from her seat and striding over to her friends before she threw her arms around them. "I bloody love you guys, you know that?"

"We know, you bloody idiot." And the three stayed like that for the rest of their time. Nicolai knew that questions would be springing up right after, ones that would usually revolve around the topic of George—and if he was okay about her not being completely straight, or if their relationship was even real to begin with.

She knew that there were things that she hasn't told her friends yet, like Fred being Florence's protean buddy, or that she had realized a difference in her sexuality because she actually fancied Jillian, or that she hasn't told Alexander about Jillian also being gay.

But she was glad, nevertheless, that she got the bigger load off of her chest. Happy that her friends didn't care, instead they accepted her in a heartbeat, without hesitation. Her paranoia was gone, and she felt it being replaced with some sort of lighter feeling.

----
Florence seemed happier, the monday after the weekend that they straightened things out as a trio. Nicolai no longer looked as troubled as she did—but she still spent her time with George, and Florence was somehow a little bit okay with that. Xander was still with Jillian, who had told her that he and Jillian haven't exactly DTR'ed, and was scared to push her in to doing so.

For a much shorter comprehension, she still spent the time alone, but unlike the previous times, she was actually quite happy. Fred noticed this as he sat across from her at the library, sliding a few stacked books and setting down his bookbag. He gazed at her intently.

"Have you struck gold under the floorboard of your dorm room?" he asked dubiously, Florence frowning at him.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you look different today... It's like your face is... Glowing? Say, have you finished a whole bar of soap on your face this morning?"

"No," Florence snorted, "If you mean that I look happier, then yeah, I most certainly do look and feel happier."

Fred's lips formed a small 'o', before flipping a book open, "So you guys have sorted out your mess, then? George told me about his interrogation. He says you were quite daunting..."

The Ravenclaw beamed in great pride, "Well, I'm glad that I actually am scary when needed."

"You're actually scary all the time..." Fred said pointedly, making Florence raise her eyebrows. "Really? So, I'm scaring you, right now, then?"

"Pffft," Fred made a noise, before propping his chin on both hands, "You are scary... But I didn't say that you scare me, peanut butter."

"Peanut Butter?" she scrunched up her face, the other Weasley coming to sit with them at that moment, "See, I told you she'd disagree on the nickname." George told his twin, who gave him a look.

"Why peanut butter?"

Fred shrugged, "Because buttercup is much too mainstream."

"Well, if you two don't know, I actually hate peanut butter." she said as she unscrewed the cap of her ink bottle. The Weasley twins looked at her incredulously, as if she had just snapped the neck of their most beloved cat. Fred put a hand to his chest—clearly in exaggeration, as he continued to gape at her.

"What do you mean you hate peanut butter? Everybody loves peanut butter!" George declared in a manner in which he seemed serious about getting offended because of someone's dislike for peanut butter.

"Well maybe because I'm allergic to peanuts." she stated blatantly, her eyes skimming through the words on the textbook, before dipping her quill into her ink, "And if I even take a small amount of any sort of peanut or peanut products, then my face would swell up like a balloon. That's why I prefer fruit jam."

"We are so sorry for the curse you were born with," Fred said sympathetically.

"You're missing out on something big in your life, Price."

"They don't even look tasty." she scoffed, further offending their peanut butter obsession.

"That's it, you just crossed the line!" Fred declared, George nodding in agreement—as there wasn't much he could add to it, "You need better judgement, Florence!" he yelled, leaning in closer as if yelling it at her face would prove a point.

She had never been that close to seeing his face, ever. Not only was she utterly uncomfortable because of the nearness, but she was also astonished with how his freckles looked artistic on his face. They were like they were hand painted and dabbed carefully on his face, to make sure that he had just the right amount.

And his eyes, they looked nothing like the normal browns but rather so light up close that they almost looked golden. And it must of have been the Library light adding in to the equation, making them an odd shade of light brownish yellow. His hair looked just like the type of red she would have liked. And all this she noticed that moment.

Realizing that she was actually already staring at him, she snapped out of her trance, thanking the fact that she had the convenient ability to suppress a blush. Florence simply snorted to redeem herself, "Says you, you hypocrite."

"Whatever."

"Anyways," Florence started, diverting their topic away from petty peanut butter—a topic she never thought she'd be debating with to anyone, "Professor McGonagall's giving out a test for all the Fifth Years next week. Are you two ready for them?"

"Please," snorted George, "We don't need to be ready—"

"—we have these beauties..." continued Fred, whipping out two self correcting quills from his book bag. Florence gave them a look, "McGonagall's going to make us use anti-cheating quills, I just know it. Your stunt won't work."

"Well, we'll just alter them. Simple."

Florence rolled her eyes, a smug look on her face, "You can't alter an anti-cheating quill  during tests even if you sold your soul for it."

Fred's eyes widened in realization, "What did you just say?"

Florence watched his bewildered expression peculiarly, "I said you can't alter an anti-cheating quill during tests even if you sold your soul for it. Honestly, Fred, have you gone deaf or something?"

"No, nothing... I just remembered something, is all."

Florence frowned, "Remembered what exactly? You look kind of freaked out."

"Nothing of great importance." he said hastily, before diverting his attention back to his book, pretending to be busy, "Now, which page did we have to make an essay about for Astronomy?"

"Page 250..." she said, her suspicion not quite ending there.