CHAPTER NINE:

Third Person P.O.V.:

"Uh, w-we were just..."

Charlie trailed off, scratching the back of his neck in nervousness as he exchanged a slightly embarrassed glance with his girlfriend. Although Harry seemed thoroughly unaware of what was going on, Ginny watched them curiously.

"Oh my Merlin," she gasped, noticing that her friends were still wearing the same clothes from the previous day. "Did you two...?"

Ginny wiggled her eyebrows at them in indication. Realizing what she was insinuating immediately, Charlie felt heat rise in his cheeks, and he desperately tried to conceal his flustered state behind Hermione's bushy hair.

"And so what if we did?" Hermione said bluntly, crossing her arms; Charlie's eyes went wide in disbelief that his own girlfriend would expose them like that.

The youngest Weasley's mouth fell agape, but her eyes radiated a sense of pride as she gazed at her friend. A mischievous smirk curled its way onto Hermione's lips as she reciprocated Ginny's gaze; she was seemingly unbothered, and instead, rather amused by divulging the real reason behind her and Charlie's early morning entrance into the common room — they had already been caught in an intimate embrace, what was the point in trying to lie?

Charlie buried his face into his hands, muttering, "This cannot be happening..."

"Wait, what?" Harry asked obliviously, furrowing his brows. "What am I missing?"

"They shagged!" Ginny squealed as she grabbed onto Harry's arm, jumping up and down in excitement. She turned back to Hermione, "Oh my god, wait, I have so many questions! How many times? Where did you do it? How big is his —"

"Ginny!" Hermione scolded, interrupting before her friend could finish her sentence. "We're not getting into details!"

"Oh, come on! Why the bloody hell not?" Ginny whined, a frown appearing on her face. "Don't be such a prude!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes, "Because my intimate relationship with my boyfriend is not up for discussion!"

"Boyfriend?" Harry's eyes went wide as he interjected into the two girls' conversation; Charlie had begun banging his head lightly off of a nearby wall, overwhelmingly embarrassed by what was happening. "Hold on a second, what the hell is going on?"

"Merlin, Harry, don't you get it?" Ginny rolled her eyes, slapping the boy with glasses on his shoulder before gesturing to Hermione and Charlie, "They're dating!"

"Dating?" Harry questioned, eyeing his two friends curiously. "Since when?"

But before Charlie or Hermione could even respond, Ginny squealed once again.

"The Yule Ball! You guys got together at the Yule Ball, didn't you?" she said eagerly before chanting, "I knew it! I bloody knew it! I called it!"

"We just kissed at the Yule Ball," Charlie corrected, finally joining the conversation. "We didn't get together until afterwards. I asked her to by my girlfriend after the second task in the tournament."

Hermione turned towards her boyfriend, smiling before she linked their hands and squeezed gently. Charlie reciprocated her smile before pulling his girlfriend into him, wrapping his arms around her tightly as he kissed the top of her head; Hermione nuzzled into his chest as he did so.

Harry watched this interaction with an odd expression, while Ginny grinned widely.

"I'm so confused," Harry whispered, itching his head awkwardly. "How did I miss this? You two are my best friends for Merlin's sake!"

"Don't beat yourself up over it," Charlie shrugged, his tone radiating comfort. "It wasn't something we wanted to parade around." He shifted his gaze to Ginny, raising an accusing brow, "We want to keep our relationship a secret."

"But that's no fun," Ginny pouted, stomping her foot in annoyance. "Why can't you be one of those couples who make people feel awkward with their immense snogging?"

Hermione sighed, tightening her grip around her boyfriend, before muttering into his chest happily, "Because I like having him all to myself."

Charlie smiled bashfully against Hermione's head at this comment, avoiding the teasing glance that was sure to come from Harry.

"Oh, I bet you do," Ginny smirked mischievously, eyeing Charlie up and down before winking in Hermione's direction, "Tell me, is he as gentle and sweet as he seems? Or is he more of a 'freak in the sheets' kind of guy?"

"Both," Hermione giggled, feeling slightly relieved that their was someone that she could talk about and gush over Charlie with. "But we'll talk about that later..."

As Ginny let out a breathy laugh, Charlie leaned back slightly, narrowing his eyes in confusion at his girlfriend, who blushed a bright pink under his gaze, before he shifted his gaze to Harry, looking for some sort of explanation.

But Harry simply shrugged, muttering, "Women."

"I'm so happy for you two!" squealed Ginny, ignoring Harry's comment. "You're dating, you've shagged, you're sneaking around, and you are quite obviously in loveeeee... damn, I'm jealous."

"You can't be that jealous," Hermione smirked, raising her head off of Charlie's chest to nod in  Harry's direction. "Seems to me like you're doing just fine."

"Oh yeah," Charlie laughed, catching on to what his girlfriend was insinuating. "Your turn to be interrogated — what's going on between you two?"

Ginny's face faltered as she gulped slightly, "Right, about that..."

Harry tried to help by adding, "Well, w-we, uh —"

"You like one another," Hermione shrugged, slightly amused on how quickly the tables had turned, "that part's obvious."

"We grew closer over the summer," Ginny sighed, confirming her friend's suspicions. "We're not official, mind you, but there's something there." She held Harry's hand in hers before adding, "We're just trying to see what'll happen."

"What'll happen with what?" Charlie inquired, furrowing his brows in confusion. "Surely if you like one another, that should be all that matters, no?"

Harry gulped, "But what about... you know, Ron...?"

Realizing where Harry's fear derived from, Charlie laughed. However, Hermione seemed taken aback and confused by how Ron was going to be an issue.

"What about him?" she asked, glancing to Ginny, who shifted uncomfortably on her feet.

"Ron will kill him," Charlie deadpanned, answering his girlfriend before Harry got the chance to. "Ginny's his little sister."

"So?" Hermione questioned, loosening her grip around Charlie so she could look up at him. "Ginny is at perfect liberty to date whomever she likes!"

Charlie raised a brow, smirking, "Have you met Ron? You honestly believe he's going to take the whole, 'my best friend is dating my little sister' thing lightly?"

Hermione lowered her head, thinking for a moment, before muttering, "Well, when you put it like that..."

"Merlin," sighed Ginny, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance. "The two of you aren't helping!"

"And I don't know why you're so chipper," Harry said to Charlie, trying to wipe the smirk off of his friend's face. "Once Ron finds out about you and Hermione, he'll go ballistic."

"How Ron takes the news of Hermione and I's relationship is entirely his problem," Charlie shrugged, tightening his grip around Hermione. "I really couldn't care less."

"It doesn't matter anyway," Hermione hummed, trying to dismiss the talk of Ron finding out. "I believe all four of us are in agreement that we'd rather keep news of our affairs private." She glanced up at Ginny and Harry with a smile, "Your secret is safe with us as long as ours is safe with you."

"Deal," Harry and Ginny said simultaneously, causing them to smile bashfully at one another.

"Brilliant," beamed Charlie before kissing Hermione's cheek. "Now, I'm off to bed to get a couple more minutes of sleep... I'm knackered."

Ginny smirked, unwilling to miss an opportunity to poke fun at the situation, "Tired after a long night of vigorous activity, I suspect."

"Very vigorous," Hermione corrected at once; a smirk formed on her lips, and Ginny gasped.

"Hermione Jean Granger!" she squealed, slapping her friend gently on the arm. "I didn't know you had it in you!"

And as Hermione went to open her mouth to say something that would've left Ginny speechless, Harry interjected quickly.

"Alright," he dismissed hastily. "I'm leaving before I'm forced to picture something I'd rather not."

He and Charlie headed towards the staircase, quickly discussing Angelina's idea that they were to work on a new move during that nights Quidditch practice in attempt to tune out Ginny and Hermione's gossip, and not until they were halfway across the sunlit common room did they notice the addition to the room.

A large sign had been affixed to the Gryffindor noticeboard, so large it covered everything else on it — the lists of secondhand spellbooks for sale, the regular reminders of school rules from Argus Filch, the Quidditch team training timetable, the offers to barter certain Chocolate Frog Cards for others, the Weasleys' latest advertisement for testers, the dates of the Hogsmeade weekends, and the lost and found notices. The new sign was printed in large black letters and there was a highly official-looking seal at the bottom beside a neat and curly signature:

BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS

All student organizations, societies, teams, groups and clubs are henceforth disbanded.

An organisation, society, team, group or club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students.

Permission to reform may be sought from the High Inquisitor, Professor Umbridge.

No student organisation, society, team, group or club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.

Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an organisation, society, team, group or club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.

The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four.

Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor

Charlie was reading the notice through again. The happiness that had filled him since the night before was gone. His insides were pulsing with rage.

"This isn't a coincidence," he said, his hands forming fists. "She must know."

"She can't," said Harry at once. "There's no way."

Noticing Charlie and Harry's attention being drawn to the noticeboard, Ginny and Hermione went to join them, curious to see what they were looking at. Ginny's mouth fell agape as she read, while Hermione's eyes slid rapidly down the notice, her expression becoming stony.

"Someone must've told her," suggested Harry, quite angrily.

"No, they can't have done... I put a jinx on that piece of parchment we all signed," Hermione dismissed quickly, her mind racing with possibilities. "Believe me, if anyone's run off and told Umbridge, we'll know exactly who they are and they will really regret it."

Ginny's eyes widened in curiosity, "What'll happen to them?"

"Well, let's put it this way," smirked Hermione, "it'll make Eloise Midgeon's acne look like a couple of cute freckles."

"Merlin, Hermione!" gasped Ginny, very amused. She turned to Charlie with a smirk, and slapped him on the shoulder, "You're such a bad influence on her!"

"Me?" Charlie's eyes widened, a playful smile curled onto his lips. "If anything, it's the other way around!"

"That's true," affirmed Hermione mischievously, leaning up and placing a chaste kiss on Charlie's lips before scurrying up the stairs to her dormitory, Ginny following closely behind her.

Leaving the boys to imagine the conversation that was to be heard in the girls dormitories that morning...

———————————————

By lunchtime that day, it became immediately apparent on entering the Great Hall that Umbridge's sign had not only appeared in Gryffindor Tower. There was a peculiar intensity about the chatter and an extra measure of movement in the Hall as people scurried up and down their tables conferring on what they had read. Charlie, Harry, Ron and Hermione had barely taken their seats when Neville, Dean, Fred, George and Ginny descended upon them.

"Did you see it?"

"D'you reckon she knows?"

"What are we going to do?"

They were all looking at Harry. He glanced around to make sure there were no teachers near them.

"We're going to do it anyway, of course," he said quietly.

"Knew you'd say that," said George, beaming and thumping Harry on the arm.

"The Prefects as well?" said Fred, looking quizzically at Charlie and Hermione.

"Of course," said Hermione coolly.

"Just spread the word," Charlie shrugged. "Let everyone know that the DA meeting is still happening, regardless of Umbridge's ominous threats — Hermione and I found a place that'll work for our lessons."

The core four left the Great Hall after that, unwilling to be the victims of stares that would cause suspicion, and so instead, they trudged down the stone steps to the dungeons for Potions early. All four of them were lost in thought, but as they reached the bottom of the steps they were recalled to themselves by the voice of Draco Malfoy, who was standing just outside Snape's classroom door, waving around an official-looking piece of parchment and talking much louder than was necessary so that they could hear every word.

"Yeah, Umbridge gave the Slytherin Quidditch team permission to continue playing straightaway, I went to ask her first thing this morning. Well, it was pretty much automatic, I mean, she knows my father really well, he's always popping in and out of the Ministry... I wonder if Gryffindor will have the same luck."

"Don't rise," Hermione whispered imploringly to the three boys next to her, who were both watching Malfoy, faces set and fists clenched. "It's what he wants."

"I doubt it, however," said Malfoy, raising his voice a little more, his grey eyes glittering malevolently in Charlie, Harry and Ron's direction, "if it's a question of influence with the Ministry, I don't think they've got much chance. I mean, they've been looking for an excuse to sack Arthur Weasley for years, the Minister is just as sick of his son as the rest of the world is... and as for Potter, it's only a matter of time before the Ministry has him carted off to St. Mungo's... apparently they've got a special ward for people whose brains have been addled by magic."

Malfoy made a grotesque face, his mouth sagging open and his eyes rolling. Crabbe and Goyle gave their usual grunts of laughter; Pansy Parkinson shrieked with glee.

Suddenly, something collided hard with Charlie's shoulder, knocking him sideways. A split second later he realised that Neville had just charged past him, heading straight for Malfoy.

"Neville, no!"

Charlie leapt forward and seized the back of Neville's robes; Neville struggled frantically, his fists flailing, trying desperately to get at Malfoy who looked, for a moment, extremely shocked. Charlie managed to get an arm around Neville's neck and dragged him backwards, away from the Slytherins.

Crabbe and Goyle were flexing their arms as they stepped in front of Malfoy, ready for the fight. Harry seized Neville's arms, and together he and Charlie succeeded in dragging their friend back into the Gryffindor line. Neville's face was scarlet; the pressure Charlie was exerting on his throat rendered him quite incomprehensible, but odd words spluttered from his mouth.

"Not... funny... don't... Mungo's... show... him..."

The dungeon door opened. Snape appeared there. His black eyes swept up the Gryffindor line to the point where Charlie and Harry were wrestling with Neville.

"Fighting, Hawthorne, Potter, Longbottom?" Snape said in his cold, sneering voice. "Ten points from Gryffindor. Release Longbottom, Hawthorne, or it will be detention. Inside, all of you."

Charlie let go of Neville, who stood panting and glaring at him.

"I had to stop you," Charlie panted, picking up his bag. "Crabbe and Goyle would've torn you apart."

Neville said nothing; he merely snatched up his own bag and stalked off into the dungeon.

"What in the name of Merlin," said Ron slowly, as he and Hermione moved back over to Charlie and Harry, "was that about?"

Charlie said nothing. He knew exactly why the subject of people who were in St. Mungo's because of magical damage to their brains was highly distressing to Neville; Charlie and his grandfather had discussed it once before, but he had sworn that he would not tell anyone Neville's secret... even Neville did not know Charlie knew.

The core four took their usual seats at the back of the class, pulled out parchment, quills and their copies of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.The class around them was whispering about what Neville had just done, but when Snape closed the dungeon door with an echoing bang, everybody immediately fell silent.

"You will notice," said Snape, in his low, sneering voice, "that we have a guest with us today."

He gestured towards the dim corner of the dungeon and Charlie saw Professor Umbridge sitting there, clipboard on her knee.

He glanced sideways at his friends, his eyebrows raised as he muttered under his breath, "Ah, fuck me..."

Snape and Umbridge, the two teachers he hated most. It was hard to decide which one he wanted to triumph over the other. Professor Umbridge spent the first half hour of the lesson making notes in her corner as the students continued with their Strengthening Solution. Only near the end of the lesson did she speak.

"Well, the class seem fairly advanced for their level," she said briskly to Snape. "Though I would question whether it is advisable to teach them a potion like the Strengthening Solution. I think the Ministry would prefer it if that was removed from the syllabus."

Snape straightened up slowly and turned to look at her.

'"Now... how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" Umbridge asked, her quill poised over her clipboard.

"Fourteen years," Snape replied, his expression was unfathomable. Charlie, watching him closely, added a few drops to his potion; it hissed menacingly and turned from turquoise to orange.

"You applied first for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?" Professor Umbridge asked Snape.

"Yes," said Snape quietly.

"But you were unsuccessful?"

Snape's lip curled, "Obviously."

Ron and Charlie shared an amused glance across the table, sniggering lowly, while Professor Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard.

"And you have applied regularly for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?"

"Yes," said Snape quietly, barely moving his lips. He looked very angry.

"Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?" asked Umbridge.

"I suggest you ask him," said Snape jerkily.

"Oh, I shall," said Professor Umbridge, with a sweet smile, and then, as if on queue, the bell rang and she swept out of the room hastily.

As Charlie went to collect his things, he felt a hard hit on the back of his head, and looked up to see Ron rubbing the back of his neck; they had both been hit by the roll of parchment in Snape's hand...

———————————————

The week went on as miserably as expected.
Umbridge made significant attempts at maintaining order around the castle, as she was now intercepting letters and watching the fireplaces for any means of communication (which was proven when Sirius tried to contact his godson and was almost immediately cut off).

Dumbledore and Hagrid were still missing, Trelawney had been insulated by the Ministry and was now overwhelmingly distraught, and McGonagall had cryptically let it slip that the school was under heavy surveillance since Umbridge was appointed High-Inquisitor.

But things were looking up by Saturday; Gryffindor was finally cleared to continue to play Quidditch, and the first official meeting of Dumbledore's Army was happening that evening.

At half past seven, Charlie, Harry, Ron and Hermione left the Gryffindor common room, Harry clutching a certain piece of aged parchment in his hand. Charlie and Hermione led their two friends along the way to the seventh floor, all four of them looking extremely nervous about the possibility of being caught.

"Hold it," Harry warned, unfolding the piece of parchment at the top of the last staircase, tapping it with his wand and muttering, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

A map of Hogwarts appeared on the blank surface of the parchment. Tiny black moving dots, labelled with names, showed where various people were.

"Filch is on the second floor," said Harry, holding the map close to his eyes, "and Mrs. Norris is on the fourth."

"And Umbridge?" said Hermione anxiously.

"In her office," said Harry, pointing. "Okay, let's go."

They hurried along the corridor to the place that Charlie and Hermione were all too familiar with; the stretch of blank wall opposite a tapestry of trolls dancing foolishly. Charlie had to conceal a proud smile as memories of his first time with Hermione flooded his mind. Hermione, noticing this, sent her boyfriend a cheeky, discrete wink as the highly polished door had appeared in the wall.

Walking inside, the room had quite obviously changed from how Hermione and Charlie had remembered it. The walls were now lined with wooden bookcases and instead of couches there were large silk cushions on the floor. A set of shelves at the far end of the room carried a range of instruments such as Sneakoscopes and Secrecy Sensors.

"These will be great when we're practicing stunning," said Ron enthusiastically, prodding one of the cushions with his foot.

"And just look at all of these books!" exclaimed Hermione excitedly, running a finger along the spines of the large leather-bound tomes.

Charlie smiled at his girlfriend's glowing face as she lost herself in a book entitled, Jinxes for the Jinxed. Then, there was another gentle knock on the door. Everyone had begun to arrive, proving that they had found the place with ease.

By the time eight o'clock arrived, every cushion was occupied. Charlie moved across to the door and turned the key protruding from the lock; it clicked in a satisfyingly loud way and everybody fell silent, looking at Harry. Hermione carefully marked her page of Jinxes for the Jinxed and set the book aside.

"Well, thank you all for coming," Harry called nervously. "Shall we get practicing then? I was thinking, the first thing we should do is Expelliarmus, you know, the Disarming Charm. I know it's pretty basic but I've found it really usef—"

"Oh, please," scoffed Zacharias Smith, rolling his eyes and folding his arms. "You can't possibly think that, Expelliarmus, is going to help us defeat You-Know-Who."

"I've used it against him before," Harry said firmly, standing his ground. "In fact, as I recall, it is precisely what saved my life in June."

Smith opened his mouth stupidly. The rest of the room was very quiet, but Charlie couldn't help but smirk at his friend's leadership skills that were shining through.

"But if you think it's beneath you, you can leave," Harry shrugged, clearly unbothered as he pointed to the door.

Smith did not move, and nor did anybody else.

"Okay," said Harry, his mouth slightly drier than usual with all these eyes upon him, "I reckon, we should all divide into pairs and practice. Off you go, then."

Everyone got to their feet, and partnered up. What came as a shock, however, was Ron practically sprinting over to Hermione, wanting so badly to be her partner. Sending an apologetic look to her boyfriend, Hermione scurried off with Ron and began practicing. Harry went with Ginny, and Elaina went with Daphne Greengrass which meant that, predictably, Neville was the only one left partnerless.

"You can practice with me, Nev," Charlie told him, and with a count of three and Harry's go ahead, everyone began to try and disarm.

The room was suddenly full of shouts of Expelliarmus. Wands flew in all directions; missed spells hit books on shelves and sent them flying into the air. Charlie was too quick for Neville, whose wand went spinning out of his hand, hit the ceiling in a shower of sparks and landed with a clatter on top of a bookshelf, from which Charlie retrieved it with a Summoning Charm.

Glancing around, Charlie thought Harry had been right to suggest they practice the basics first; there was a lot of shoddy spellwork going on; many people were not succeeding in Disarming their opponents at all, but merely causing them to jump backwards a few paces or wince as their feeble spell whooshed over them.

"Expelliarmus!" shouted Neville, and Charlie, although caught unawares, held his wand firmly in his hand, the spell having no effect whatsoever.

"Damn it," muttered Neville sadly. "I can never do that one right."

"It's alright, Neville," Charlie said consolingly, clapping his friend on the back. "We'll work on it."

(A/N: one word... #Narlie)

Without realizing it, the DA practiced until it was nearly ten past nine. Meaning, it was time to call it a night as they needed to get back to their common rooms immediately or they'd risk being caught and punished by Filch for being out of bounds.

Harry called everyone to a halt, and almost instantly, everyone stopped shouting and wands dropped to the floor.

"Well, that wasn't bad at all!" Harry beamed, smiling around at everyone. "Mind you, there is room for improvement, but we've overrun, and so we best leave it here. We'll meet again this Wednesday night. Now, come on, we'd better get going."

He pulled out the Marauder's Map again and checked it carefully for signs of teachers on the seventh floor. He let them all leave in threes and fours, watching their tiny dots anxiously to see that they returned safely to their dormitories; the Hufflepuffs to the basement corridor that also led to the kitchens; the Ravenclaws to a tower on the west side of the castle; the Slytherins to the dungeons, and the Gryffindors along the corridor to the Fat Lady's portrait.

"That was really, really good, Harry," said Hermione, when finally it was just her, Charlie, Harry and Ron who were left.

"Yeah, it was!" said Ron enthusiastically, as they slipped out of the door and watched it melt back into stone behind them. "Did you see me disarm Hermione?"

"Only once," said Hermione, rolling her eyes. "I got you loads more than you got me!"

"I did not only get you once, I got you at least three times!"

"Well, if you're counting the one where you tripped over your own feet and knocked the wand out of my hand —"

"I swear that was an accident!" defended Ron, his eyes now wide with worry as they made their way back to the common room. "Blimey Hermione, I'm sorry. If I'm ever rude to you again —"

"Then I'll know that you've gone back to normal," Hermione said at once, being mindful of Charlie's furrowed brows towards her and Ron's interaction.

The core four walked deeper into the depths of the common room, and Harry and Ron fell onto the couch with content sighs. As Hermione moved to her favourite armchair by the fire, Charlie shifted uncomfortably on his feet as he continued to stand.

"I-I think I'll head up to bed early," he said through a fake yawn. "Goodnight."

Without giving his friends a chance to protest, he swept up the stairs, feeling a sense of jealousy swell up inside him over something that he knew would mean nothing. And yet, Charlie couldn't help but feel as though he had been wrong all along.

Maybe Ron finding out about Charlie and Hermione's relationship was going to be a bigger problem after all...

——————————————

Charlie felt as though he were carrying some kind of talisman inside his chest over the following two weeks, a glowing secret that supported him through Umbridge's classes and even made it possible for him to smile blandly as he looked into her horrible bulging eyes.

The DA were continuing to resist her under her very nose, doing the very thing she and the Ministry most feared, and whenever he was supposed to be reading Wilbert Slinkhard's book during her lessons, he dwelled instead on satisfying memories of their most recent meetings.

Hermione soon devised a very clever method of communicating the time and date of the next meeting to all the members in case they needed to change it on short notice, because it would look suspicious if people from different Houses were seen crossing the Great Hall to talk to each other too often. So, at the next meeting, she gave each of the members of the DA a fake Galleon.

"You see the numerals around the edge of the coins?" Hermione said, holding one up for examination. The coin gleamed golden yellow in the light from the torches. "On real Galleons that's just a serial number referring to the goblin who cast the coin. On these fake coins, though, the numbers will change to reflect the time and date of the next meeting. The coins will grow hot when the date changes, so if you're carrying them in a pocket you'll be able to feel them. We take one each, and when Harry sets the date of the next meeting he'll change the numbers on his coin, and because I've put a Protean Charm on them, they'll all change to mimic his."

A blank silence greeted Hermione's words. She looked around at all the faces upturned to her, rather disconcerted.

Charlie broke the silence, smiling, "They're brilliant, Hermione."

A sense of relief washed over Hermione's face at her boyfriend's words as she found him amongst the crowd.

"You can do a Protean Charm?" asked Terry Boot, in a slight awe causing Hermione to look away from Charlie.

"Well, yes," she shrugged.

"But that's NEWT standard, that is," he said weakly.

"Oh," said Hermione, trying to look modest. "Well... yes, I suppose it is."

"How come you're not in Ravenclaw?" Terry demanded, staring at Hermione with something close to wonder. "With brains like yours?"

"Well, the Sorting Hat did seriously consider putting me in Ravenclaw during my Sorting," said Hermione brightly, "but it decided on Gryffindor in the end."

"Meaning you lot missed out," Charlie smirked, nudging Terry Boot, "She's ours."

Hermione blushed, but tried to conceal her face as she spoke, "So, does that mean we're using the Galleons?'

There was a murmur of assent and everybody moved forwards to collect one from the basket. Harry looked sideways at Hermione.

"You know what these remind me of?"

"No, what's that?"

"The Death Eaters' scars. Voldemort touches one of them, and all their scars burn, and they know they've got to join him."

"Well... yes," said Hermione quietly, "that is where I got the idea... but you'll notice I decided to engrave the date on bits of metal rather than on our members' skin."

"Yeah... I much prefer your way," added Charlie, grinning, as he slipped his Galleon into his pocket. "I suppose the only danger with these is that we might accidentally spend them."

"Fat chance," said Ron, who was examining his own fake Galleon with a slightly mournful air, "I haven't got any real Galleons to confuse it with."

——————————————

As the first Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, drew nearer, their DA meetings were put on hold because Angelina insisted on almost daily practices.

Charlie felt optimistic about Gryffindors chances; they had, after all, never lost to Malfoy's team. Admittedly, however, Ron was still not performing to Wood's standard, but he was working extremely hard to improve. His greatest weakness was a tendency to lose confidence after he'd made a blunder; if he let in one goal he became flustered and was therefore likely to miss more. Which could, more or less, cause a great deal of issues in the upcoming match, especially with the Slytherin's tendency to provoke Ron before they even got on the pitch.

When the Slytherins, some of them seventh-years and considerably larger than he was, muttered as they passed in the corridors, "Got your bed booked in the hospital wing, Weasley?" Ron didn't laugh, but turned a delicate shade of green. When Draco Malfoy imitated Ron dropping the Quaffle (which he did whenever they came within sight of each other), Ron's ears glowed red and his hands shook so badly that he was likely to drop whatever he was holding at the time, too... it was bad.

October extinguished itself in a rush of howling winds and driving rain, and November arrived, cold as frozen iron, with hard frosts every morning and icy draughts that bit at exposed hands and faces. The skies and the ceiling of the Great Hall turned a pale, pearly grey, the mountains around Hogwarts were snowcapped, and the temperature in the castle dropped so low that many students wore their thick protective dragonskin gloves in the corridors between lessons.

The morning of the match dawned bright and cold. When Charlie awoke he looked round at Ron's bed and saw him sitting bolt upright, his arms around his knees, staring fixedly into space.

"Are you alright?"

Ron nodded but did not speak. In that instant, Charlie was reminded of the time Ron had accidentally put a slug-vomiting charm on himself; he looked just as pale and sweaty as he had done then, not to mention as reluctant to open his mouth.

"He just needs breakfast," Harry chimed in, walking out from the on-suite, fully dressed. "C'mon."

After getting dressed, Charlie followed Ron and Harry down to the Great Hall. As they passed the Slytherin table there was an upsurge of noise. Charlie looked round and saw that, in addition to their usual green and silver scarves, every one of them was wearing a silver badge in the shape of what seemed to be a crown. For some reason many of them waved at Ron, laughing uproariously.

Shaking it off, the three boys received a rousing welcome at the Gryffindor table, where everyone was wearing red and gold, but far from raising Ron's spirits, the cheers seemed to sap the last of his morale; he collapsed on to the nearest bench looking as though he were facing his final meal.

"I must've been mental to do this," he said in a croaky whisper. "Absolutely mental."

"Don't be thick," said Harry firmly, passing him a choice of cereals, "you're going to be fine. It's normal to be nervous."

"I'm rubbish," croaked Ron. "I'm lousy. I can't play to save my life. What was I thinking?"

"Get a grip," said Charlie sternly. "You played fine in practice the other day... that one save you made was really well done."

Ron turned a tortured face to Charlie.

"That was an accident," he whispered miserably. "I didn't mean to do it — I slipped off my broom when none of you were looking and when I was trying to get back on I kicked the Quaffle by accident."

"Well," shrugged Charlie, recovering quickly from this unpleasant surprise, "a few more accidents like that and the game's in the bag, isn't it?"

Shortly after, Hermione and Ginny sat down opposite them wearing red and gold scarves, gloves and rosettes.

"How're you feeling?" Ginny asked Ron, who was now staring into the dregs of milk at the bottom of his empty cereal bowl as though seriously considering attempting to drown himself in them.

"He's just nervous," answered Harry.

"Well, that's a good sign, I never feel you perform as well in exams if you're not a bit nervous," said Hermione heartily.

"Hello," said a vague and dreamy voice from behind them. Charlie looked up, Luna Lovegood had drifted over from the Ravenclaw table. Many people were staring at her and a few were openly laughing and pointing; she had managed to procure a hat shaped like a life-size lion's head, which was perched precariously on her head.

"I'm supporting Gryffindor today," said Luna, pointing unnecessarily at her hat. "Look what it does..."

She reached up and tapped the hat with her wand. It opened its mouth wide and gave an extremely realistic roar that made everyone in the vicinity jump.

"It's good, isn't it?" said Luna happily. "I wanted to have it chewing up a serpent to represent Slytherin, you know, but there wasn't time. Anyway... good luck, Ron!"

Before she left, Luna surprised everyone by leaning down to place a kiss on the ginger boy's cheek, and then, acting as though nothing had happened, she drifted away.

Ron's eyes went wide, and he touched the spot where Luna had kissed him, looking puzzled, as though he was not quite sure what had just happened. He seemed too distracted to notice much around him as they all headed for the exit once again, but Charlie cast a curious glance at the crown-shaped badges as they passed the Slytherin table, and this time he made out the words etched on to them:

Weasley is our King.

With an unpleasant feeling that this could mean nothing good, he hurried Ron and Harry across the Entrance Hall, down the stone steps and out into the icy air, heading for the Quidditch pitch as Ginny and Hermione left for the stands.

They could hear hundreds of footsteps mounting the banked benches of the spectators' stands. Some people were singing, though Charlie could not make out the words. He was starting to feel nervous, but he knew his butterflies were nothing compared to Ron's, who was clutching his stomach and staring straight ahead again, his jaw set and his complexion pale grey.

"It's time," said Angelina in a hushed voice as the team gathered around her, looking at her watch. "C'mon everyone... good luck!"

The team rose, shouldered their brooms and marched in single file out of the changing room and into the dazzling sunlight. A roar of sound greeted them in which Charlie could still hear singing, though it was muffled by the cheers and whistles.

The Slytherin team was already on the pitch waiting for them, and it wasn't long before Madame Hooch blew her whistle. The balls were released and the fourteen players shot upwards. Out of the corner of his eye Charlie saw Ron streak off towards the goalhoops.

Charlie zoomed higher, dodging a Bludger, and set off on a wide lap of the pitch, preparing himself to win his team some much needed points.

"And it's Johnson — Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me —"

"JORDAN!" yelled Professor McGonagall.

"— just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest — and she's ducked Warrington, she's passed Montague, she's — ouch — been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe... Montague catches the Quaffle, Montague heading back up the pitch and — nice Bludger there from George Weasley, that's a Bludger to the head for Montague, he drops the Quaffle, caught by Katie Bell, Katie Bell of Gryffindor reverse-passes to Charlie Hawthorne and Hawthorne's away —"

Lee Jordan's commentary rang through the stadium and Charlie listened as hard as he could through the wind whistling in his ears and the din of the crowd, all yelling and booing and singing.

"— dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger — close call, Charlie — and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what's that they're singing?"

And as Lee paused to listen, the song rose loud and clear from the sea of green and silver in the Slytherin section of the stands:

"Weasley cannot save a thing,
He cannot block a single ring,
That's why Slytherins all sing:
Weasley is our King."

"Weasley was born in a bin
He always lets the Quaffle in
Weasley will make sure we win
Weasley is our King."

"— and Charlie passes to Angelina!" Lee shouted, and as Charlie swerved, his insides boiled at what he had just heard; he knew Lee was trying to drown out the words of the song. "Come on now, Angelina — looks like she's got just the Keeper to beat! SHE SHOOTS — SHE — aaaah..."

Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper, had saved the goal; he threw the Quaffle to Warrington who sped off with it, zig-zagging in between Angelina and Katie; the singing from below grew louder and louder as he drew nearer and nearer Ron.

"Weasley is our King,
Weasley is our King,
He always lets the Quaffle in
Weasley is our King."

"— and it's Warrington with the Quaffle, Warrington heading for goal, he's out of Bludger range with just the Keeper ahead —"

A great swell of song rose from the Slytherin stands below:

"Weasley cannot save a thing,
He cannot block a single ring..."

"— so it's the first test for new Gryffindor Keeper Weasley, brother of Beaters Fred and George, and a promising new talent on the team — come on, Ron!"

But the scream of delight came from the Slytherins' end; Ron had dived wildly, his arms wide, and the Quaffle had soared between them straight through Ron's central hoop.

"Slytherin score!" came Lee's voice amid the cheering and booing from the crowds below, "so that's ten-nil to Slytherin — bad luck, Ron."

The Slytherins sang even louder:

"WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN
HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN..."

Soon enough, Ron's performance caused more and more of a burden on the team as he let in goal after goal. Gryffindor was down 150-0, and it was truly one of the most difficult games ever played; Ron's performance reflected poorly on everyone. There was a feeling of panic in Charlie's desire for Harry to find the Snitch now; if he could just get it soon and finish the game quickly, but for them to win, all Charlie had to do was score a single shot.

And so, gazing around the pitch, Charlie caught sight of Harry in hot pursuit of the Golden Snitch; the tiny fluttering ball of gold was flying centimetres away from Harry's hand — Charlie had to act quickly.

"— and Gryffindor back in possession and it's Angelina Johnson tanking up the pitch —" cried Lee valiantly, though the singing was now so deafening that he could hardly make himself heard above it.

"WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN
WEASLEY IS OUR KING!"

"— and Johnson of Gryffindor dodges Pucey, ducks Montague, nice swerve, Angelina, and she throws to Hawthorne! Charlie Hawthorne takes the Quaffle, he's past Warrington, he's heading for goal, come on now, Charlie — GRYFFINDOR SCORE! It's 150-10, 150-10 to Slyther—"

Lee trailed off as he watched Harry dive for the Snitch, while Malfoy was close on his heel. But none of that mattered, as Harry lifted his right hand from his broom, stretching towards the Snitch... to his right, Malfoy's arm extended too, was reaching, groping...

It was over in two breathless, desperate, windswept seconds — Harry's fingers closed around the tiny, struggling ball. He pulled his broom upwards, holding the struggling ball in his hand and the Gryffindor spectators screamed their approval.

Charlie flew around in circles, clapping and cheering from excitement. They were saved, it did not matter that Ron had let in so many goals, nobody would remember as long as Gryffindor had won —

WHAM!

A Bludger hit Charlie squarely in the small of the back and he flew forwards off his broom. Luckily he was only five or six feet above the ground, having dived so low to maneuver his way around the pitch, but he was winded all the same as he landed flat on his back on the frozen pitch. He heard Madame Hooch's shrill whistle, an uproar in the stands compounded of catcalls, angry yells and jeering, a thud, then Angelina's frantic voice.

"Are you alright?"

"'Course I am," said Charlie grimly, taking her hand and allowing her to pull him to his feet. Madame Hooch was zooming towards one of the Slytherin players above him, though he could not see who it was from this angle. Harry had dived down to meet his injured friend on the ground.

"It was Crabbe," he said angrily, "he whacked that Bludger right at you when he saw that I caught the Snitch... that right, foul git —"

"It's alright," Charlie laughed, clapping his friend on the back. "We won, Harry, we won!"

Then, there was a snort heard from behind them, causing Harry and Charlie to turn around. Draco Malfoy had landed on the ground, white-faced with fury, but he was still managing to sneer.

"Saved Weasley's neck, haven't you?" he spat at the two Gryffindor boys. "I've never seen a worse Keeper... but then he was born in a bin... did you like my lyrics?"

Neither Charlie or Harry answered. Instead, they turned away to meet the rest of their team who were now landing one by one, yelling and punching the air in triumph; all except Ron, who had dismounted from his broom over by the goalposts and seemed to be making his way slowly back to the changing rooms alone.

"We wanted to write another couple of verses!" Malfoy called, as Katie and Angelina hugged Charlie. "But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly — we wanted to sing about his mother, you see —"

"Shut your mouth, Malfoy," Charlie growled, whipping around as the comment about Mrs. Weasley had made him unable to control his anger.

"Leave it!" said Angelina at once, yanking Charlie back by the arm. "Leave it, Char, let him yell, he's just sore he lost, the jumped-up little ferret —"

"Oh, but you like the Weasley's don't you, Hawthorne?" asked Malfoy, sneering. "Have no family of your own that want you, and so you need to go find pathetic excuses of wizards to shack up with, isn't that right?"

Harry grabbed ahold of Charlie, urging him back to the changing room, where the twins had sauntered into in search of Ron. Madame Hooch was still berating Crabbe for his illegal Bludger attack, and Angelina and Katie were shaken with annoyance.

"What about you, Potter?" Malfoy taunted with a laugh, shifting his gaze to Harry, who simply clenched his jaw. "Can you remember what your mother's house stank like? Is that why you're so inclined to spend time in the Weasley's pigsty? Does it remind you of —"

Harry was not aware of releasing Charlie, all he knew was that a second later both of them were sprinting towards Malfoy. Charlie had completely forgotten that all the teachers were watching, all he wanted to do was cause Malfoy as much pain as possible; with no time to draw out his wand, he merely drew back one of his fists and sank it as hard as he could into Malfoy's stomach —

"CHARLIE! HARRY! NO!"

He could hear the girls' voices screaming, Malfoy yelling, Harry swearing, a whistle blowing and the bellowing of the crowd around him, but he did not care. Not until somebody in the vicinity yelled, "Impedimenta!" and he was knocked over backwards by the force of the spell, did he abandon the attempt to punch every inch of Malfoy he could reach.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?!" screamed Madame Hooch, and Charlie leapt to his feet. It seemed to have been her who had hit him with the Impediment Jinx; she was holding her whistle in one hand and a wand in the other; her broom lay abandoned several feet away.

Malfoy was curled up on the ground, whimpering and moaning, his nose bloody; Harry was sporting a swollen lip; Angelina and Katie were standing with their mouths agape, and Crabbe was cackling in the background.

"I've never seen behaviour like it — back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to your Head of House's office! Go! Now!"

Harry and Charlie turned on their heels and marched off the pitch, both panting, neither saying a word to the other. The howling and jeering of the crowd grew fainter and fainter until they reached the Entrance Hall, where they could hear nothing except the sound of their own footsteps.

As they reached McGonagall's office, Charlie opened the door, the knuckles on the hand of which he had bruised against Malfoy's jaw were on full display. McGonagall was in there waiting for them, she was wearing a Gryffindor scarf, but tore it from her throat with shaking hands as she moved around, looking livid. She strode around behind her desk and faced them, quivering with rage as she threw the Gryffindor scarf aside on to the floor.

"I have never seen such a disgraceful exhibition!" she yelled, making the boy's jump slightly. "Two on one... explain yourselves!"

Charlie shrugged, still shaking with anger, "We were provoked."

"Provoked?" shouted Professor McGonagall, slamming a fist on to her desk so that her tartan tin slid sideways off it and burst open, littering the floor with Ginger Newts. "He'd just lost, hadn't he? Of course he wanted to provoke you! But what on earth could he have said that justified what you two —"

"He insulted my mother," snarled Harry. "And told Charlie that he was unwanted in his own damn family, how is that alright?!"

"It's not alright! But instead of leaving it to Madame Hooch to sort out, you two decided to give an exhibition of Muggle duelling, did you?" bellowed Professor McGonagall. "Have you any idea what you've — ?"

"Hem, hem."

Charlie and Harry both wheeled round. Dolores Umbridge was standing in the doorway wrapped in a green tweed cloak that greatly enhanced her resemblance to a giant toad, and was smiling in the horrible, sickly, ominous way that Charlie had come to associate with imminent misery.

"I'm here to help, Minerva," stated Professor Umbridge in her most poisonously sweet voice.

Blood rushed into Professor McGonagall's face.

"Help?" she repeated, in a constricted voice. "What do you mean, help?"

Professor Umbridge moved forwards into the office, still smiling with sickly grin.

"Why, I think they deserve rather more than the detentions, which I'm sure is the punishment you'd bestow upon them."

Professor McGonagall's eyes flew open.

"But unfortunately," she said, with an attempt at a reciprocal smile that made her look as though she had lockjaw, "it is what I think that counts, as they are in my House, Dolores."

"Well, actually, Minerva," simpered Professor Umbridge, "I think you'll find that what I think does count. Now, where is it? Fenwick just sent it... I mean," she gave a false little laugh as she rummaged in her handbag, "the Minister just sent it... ah yes..."

She had pulled out a piece of parchment which she now unfurled, clearing her throat fussily before starting to read what it said.

"Educational Decree Number Twenty-Five."

"Not another one!" exclaimed Professor McGonagall violently.

"Oh, but of course, dear," said Umbridge, still smiling before looking down to read off of the parchment, "'The High Inquisitor will henceforth have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions and removal of privileges pertaining to the students of Hogwarts, and the power to alter such punishments, sanctions and removals of privileges as may have been ordered by other staff members. Signed, Fenwick Hawthorne, Minister for Magic, Order of Merlin First Class, etc., etc.'"

Umbridge rolled up the parchment and put it back into her handbag still smiling, finding amusement in the shocked faces of those before her.

"So... I really think I will have to ban these two from playing Quidditch ever again," she said, looking from Harry to Charlie and back again.

"Ban us?" Harry said, and his voice sounded strangely distant. "From playing... ever again?"

"No, no, no," Charlie repeated in disbelief, his eyes wide. "You can't do this!"

"Oh, believe me, Mr. Hawthorne, indeed I can," said Umbridge, her smile widening still further as she watched him struggle to comprehend what she had said. "A lifetime ban will surely do the trick. I want your brooms confiscated, of course; I shall keep them safely in my office, to make sure there is no infringement of my ban. Also..." She turned to Charlie, looking incredibly overjoyed, "I shall be taking away your Prefect privileges, Mr. Hawthorne. You have proven time and time again that such a responsibility is clearly something you're incapable of handling."

"You can't..." Charlie trailed off, shocked as he turned to Professor McGonagall. "Professor, please!"

McGonagall looked down, the angry expression on her face replacing itself with a frown, "I'm afraid there's nothing I can do, Charles."

And with that, Charlie buried his face in his hands, extremely upset and miserable by this punishment.

This may just be, he thought, worse than writing lines.

"Very well," Umbridge beamed, finding happiness in the way Charlie's face fell. "Good afternoon to you."

And with a look of the utmost satisfaction, Umbridge left the room, leaving a horrified silence in her wake.

——————————————

"Banned," said Angelina in a hollow voice, late that evening in the common room. "Banned.No Seeker and a Chaser down... what on earth are we going to do?"

It did not feel as though they had won the match at all. Everywhere Charlie looked there were disconsolate and angry faces; the team themselves were slumped around the fire, all apart from Ron, who had not been seen since the end of the match.

"It's just so unfair," said Katie numbly. "I mean, what about Crabbe and that Bludger he hit after the whistle had been blown? Has she banned him?"

"No," said Ginny miserably; she and Hermione were sitting on either side of Harry, icing his bruises. "He just got lines, I heard Montague laughing about it at dinner."

"That's completely unfair," said Harry furiously, pummelling his knee with his fist.

Charlie, who separated himself from everyone else, stared miserably out the window, and watched the snow fall as a sense of self-disappointment washed over him. Hermione, with an ice pack in hand, got up and moved over to sit with him, taking his bruised hand in hers and icing it gently.

"I'm sorry," Charlie whispered, noticing that Hermione had yet to look at him in the eye since the revelation of his punishment.

Hermione sighed, squeezing his hand gently in reassurance, "You can be incredibly reckless sometimes, you know that, don't you?"

Charlie nodded, his head falling in shame as he felt as if he had let down the one person he cared about most. Noticing this, Hermione's heart ached and her expression softened immediately.

She leaned up, her lips against his ear so no one else could hear, and she whispered, "But I love you anyway."

This comment sent shivers down Charlie's spine, and he was suddenly fighting against every atom in his body that was telling him to kiss his girlfriend in front of everyone. Luckily, Angelina getting up off the couch, stopped Charlie from snogging Hermione for everyone to see.

"I'm going to bed," she said, huffing as she stood up. "Maybe this will all turn out to have been a bad dream... maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and find we haven't played yet..."

She was soon followed by Katie. Fred and George sloped off to bed some time later, glowering at everyone they passed, and Ginny went not long after that. Leaving only Charlie, Harry and Hermione left in the common room.

"Where's Ron?" Harry asked in a low voice once they were sat in silence.

Charlie shrugged, "Probably avoiding us."

But at that precise moment, there was a creaking sound behind them as the Fat Lady swung forwards and Ron came clambering through the portrait hole. He was very pale indeed and there was snow in his hair, but what caught Charlie's eye was the Prefect badge that was sparkling on his robes...

When Ron saw his friends, he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Where have you been?" inquired Hermione, guiding Charlie over to the fire next to Harry.

"Walking," Ron mumbled, sitting down in an armchair.

When silence fell over them again, Charlie spoke, harsher than intended, towards his friend. "Nice badge... really brings out your eyes."

Ron's eyes went wide, before he muttered, "I'm sorry."

"For which part?" Charlie spat bitterly, unaware if Ron was talking about the Prefect badge or his Quidditch performance.

"McGonagall approached me in the halls as I was walking back," the ginger explained, rather nervously. "She told me what happened, but then proceeded to ask me if I'd take your place."

Charlie clenched his jaw, "And you gladly accepted, did you?"

Ron gulped, "I figured you'd be happy to know that the badge was going to me, and not some random bloke..."

"Right you are," Charlie said sarcastically. "I'm bloody thrilled."

"Charlie, please don't," Hermione whispered, and her boyfriend's face immediately softened as he sunk back into his seat.

"Maybe I'll be a better Prefect than a Keeper," Ron shrugged, trying to lighten the mood. "Speaking of, I'm sorry for thinking I can play Quidditch... I'm going to resign first thing tomorrow."

"If you resign," said Harry testily, "there'll only be four players left on the team." And when Ron looked puzzled, he said, "I've been given a lifetime ban, and so has Charlie."

"What?" Ron yelped.

Hermione told him the full story; both Charlie and Harry could not bear to tell it again. When she had finished, Ron looked more anguished than ever.

"This is all my fault —"

"You didn't make us punch Malfoy," said Harry angrily.

"But if I wasn't so terrible at Quidditch —"

" — it's got nothing to do with that."

"It was that song that wound me up —"

"— it would've wound anyone up."

Hermione got up and walked to the window, away from the argument, watching the snow swirling down against the pane.

"Look, drop it, will you!" Charlie snapped, his anger boiling over. "It's bad enough, without you blaming yourself for everything!"

Ron said nothing but sat gazing miserably at the damp hem of his robes. After a while he said in a dull voice, "This is the worst I've ever felt in my life."

"Join the club," said Charlie bitterly.

"Well," said Hermione, her voice trembling slightly. "I can think of one thing that might cheer the three of you up."

"Oh yeah?" said Harry sceptically, turning towards her immediately.

"Yeah," said Hermione, turning away from the pitch-black, snow-flecked window, a broad smile spreading across her face. "Hagrid's back."

———————————————
Author's Note:
*this chapter was not proof read*

This chapter was more of a filler chapter, but rest assured... next one will be interesting 👀

If you enjoyed, be sure to vote and share! I'd really appreciate it! Thank you so much for over 36k reads, we've come so far <3

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Much love to you all!

xo, Selena