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Chapter Text

Shadowed Affections

Chapter 1

September

It was the week before she'd leave for her last year at school. She had managed to pack everything up, except for a few miscellaneous items that were scattered on her floor. The young girl frowned and ran a hand through her red hair as she sat down at the edge of her bed and stared at her trunk. It was hard to believe that in a year's time, it would render practically useless. 

The sound of yelling came through the floorboards and she frowned as she looked toward her door. She loved her parents, and she knew that they loved each other, but due to the ever growing war that was approaching, her fathers job was beginning to take a toll on their marriage, and the family. She frowned and grabbed her wand, glad to finally be rid of the Trace, aimed it at the door and in an instant, she was greeted with silence. Apparently her spell was so good, she didn't even notice the owl that was perched out on the windowsill. 

“Hey little buddy!” she swung the window open, greeting the familiar brown and white-spotted owl. The bird dropped a scroll from its beak into her outstretched hand. After rewarding him with treats from a small jar at her desk, she bid it farewell and turned her attention to the unopened letter.

“Rylie!

Were you able to get permission to come visit for the last week of summer?

My mother's been bothering me for the past two weeks and my parents have no issue bringing you to Kings Cross. You know how much she enjoys having you around. I think it's just because she likes to have another female in the house.. I don't blame her since she has to deal with Dad, Sirius and myself all day. Send me an owl as soon as you can!

-James

Ps. Sirius says HI RYLIE! I MISS YOU!”

The contents of the letter caused a surge of emotion to well up within Rylie. Over the years, she had woven a deep friendship with James, Sirius, and Remus. Their time at Hogwarts had fostered friendships that transcended the school's walls, culminating in the cherished tradition of spending a week of every summer at James's home. Yet, as the grip of Voldemort and the Death Eaters tightened, her father had imposed a restrictive curfew, confining her within their home. This was a decision that her mother deeply disagreed with, adding another layer of tension to their household.

Her contemplation was cut short by the sound of a knock at her door. Her expression hardened into a frown. It was clear that her father had countered her silence charm. “Come in.” she said as she fell back onto her bed to stare up at the ceiling. 

Her father entered the room, greeting Rylie with a smile that was more a sigh than a show of happiness. He was a towering figure, a man with short brown hair and vivid blue eyes. "Dinner will be ready soon," he announced, his tone a careful balance between normalcy and the tension that lingered from their earlier argument downstairs. He paused for a moment, seeming to wrestle with unspoken words, then turned to make his exit.

"Dad?" Rylie's voice echoed through the room just before the door could close fully.

"Yes?" Her father turned back to face her, his gaze meeting Rylie's. She gnawed at her lower lip, a slight frown knitting her brows together as she clutched the piece of parchment. "I was wondering,” She took a breath, preparing herself for a potential argument. “Can I spend the last week of summer at the Potters'?" Before her father could voice the protest she saw forming, Rylie hurried to make her case. "Dad, you know them. Their house is covered with protective spells. I'll be safe there. And honestly, no offense meant, but I need a change of scenery."

Rylie's dad considered the request for a moment and sighed, shaking his head. “I'm afraid not, Rylie-”

“Dad, please.” Rylie begged. “This will be the last summer I'll get to spend with them before we graduate.” 

Her father watched her for a moment and then sighed, lowering his head and giving her a small nod. “Fine, but make sure you owl me everyday,” he said. 

Rylie smiled and gave a nod and went to her desk, quickly scribbling a note out to James, letting him know to plan on her arrival tomorrow morning.

~*~

“Ry!!” a loud voice boomed and before Rylie knew it, she was engulfed in two sets of arms as the breath was getting squeezed out of her. 

“Can't... breath...” Rylie gasped as she patted one of the boys on the back. 

“Oh.. sorry.” James said as he pulled away while adjusting his glasses and running a hand through his dark black hair. Rylie smirked and looked over to Sirius who returned her smile.

It was almost like falling back into a comfortable routine when Rylie stepped foot into the Potter's home. After being nearly tackled to death by her friends, Mrs. Potter had come in and began motherly doting, asking if she was hungry and how her trip was while James and Sirius brought her stuff up to her room. 

“So, Rylie, how are your parents doing?” Mrs. Potter asked as she fussed around the kitchen making dinner while the boys and Mr. Potter were outside, gathering firewood.

Rylie frowned and bit her lip and gave a small shrug as she brought her feet up onto the chair she was sitting on, wrapping her arms around her legs. She wasn't exactly sure how to explain to basically her second mom that it felt as if her parent’s marriage was falling apart, and even if she could find the words, she wasn't sure if she wanted to divulge that information. “They're doing alright.” she said, not really wanting to go further into the subject.

Mrs. Potter looked over her shoulder, and Rylie could tell that she knew she was holding back. She gave Rylie a sad smile and a nod as she continued to make dinner. A few minutes later, they were joined by James, Sirius and Mr. Potter and so began the first night of her last week at the Potter's.

“So are you excited for this year?” Sirius asked as he handed Rylie a dish to dry. Rylie gave a shrug as she took the plate and dried it off before placing it back in the cabinet.

“I guess so, but I'm sad that this will be it.” she said softly. She turned to Sirius as they finished up and frowned a bit. “I think the one thing I'm going to miss is times like this. Hanging out with you guys over the summer. We won't be able to do this anymore after we graduate.”

James looked up from the table he was scrubbing and frowned. “Who says? Besides, we could always get a place together after we graduate.” 

Rylie gave him a look over her shoulder and chuckled, shaking her head. “That'd be a bad idea, James. Besides, wouldn't that interfere with your plans with Lily?” She smirked as James' face turned red as he shrugged a shoulder and turned his attention to a stain.

Just then, an owl screeched at the windowsill. James quickly stood up straight and ran over to the window, opening it up and took three envelopes from its beak. “Looks like our lists..” James said as he passed one out to Sirius and Rylie. Rylie took hers and opened up, examining the list of contents she'd have to purchase that year.

“Oh no way!” James said with excitement as he slid something metal from out of the envelope.

“What is it?” Sirius asked as he stepped closer to get a better look.

James' smile grew as he raised his hand, flashing the badge he held that read Head Boy.

Rylie's jaw dropped as she stepped up to him, grabbing the badge from his hand as James shouted “Hey!” and examined it. “Who in their right mind would put you in charge?!” Rylie asked as Sirius let go of a laugh and raised his hands over his head behind James. Rylie smiled and tossed the badge over James' head where Sirius caught it and examined it.

“It looks real..” he said, inspecting comically close to his face.

“Hey, just because I actually have morals,” James began.

“HA!” Sirius cried, smirking. He shook his head and slapped the badge back into James' hand. “Well, good job there mate.” 

The week went by fairly quickly. A little too quick for Rylie's liking, but all good things have to come to an end. It didn't take very long for the Potter's to drive them all to Kings Cross for their last train ride to Hogwarts. It actually felt strange, stepping through Platform 9 ¾, knowing that this would be the last time she'd be here as a student. The platform was fairly busy, filled with parents giving their children a last minute hug, or shedding tears of goodbye as parents send their young children off to their first year. James, Sirius and Rylie quickly found a compartment and were soon followed by their other two friends, Remus and Peter. 

It was seven years exactly from this day where she had met the Marauders, and it was a day she had planned on never forgetting. She was lonely and somewhat scared, and it was Sirius who invited her into their compartment. All five of them became immediate friends, although Rylie still wasn't so sure about Peter. There was just something about him that rubbed her the wrong way, but she learned to  put up with him since he was friends with James, Sirius and Remus. 

The train ride was for the most part uneventful. James and Sirius played a rambunctious game of Exploding Snap after James and Remus came back from their prefects meeting while Rylie and Remus watched. Peter on the other hand seemed distant, and hung back in the corner of the compartment, only speaking when he was spoken too. At one point, James had frowned and asked him what was wrong, but Peter only shrugged and said that he was fine. James hadn't accepted the answer, and tried to ask him again, but Peter had grown frustrated and excused himself, muttering something about going to the bathroom, leaving the compartment with an air of awkwardness. 

A few hours later, the train had finally reached Hogsmeade, much to everybody's relief. After cramming themselves into one of the carriages, they made their final trek up the path toward the castle. Rylie couldn't decipher the feeling that stirred in her stomach as she stepped into the Great Hall. It was decorated how it always was, with the ceiling speckled with the stars of the night sky, torches flickering on the walls, it was something she was going to miss dearly.

The Sorting Hat ceremony came and went, as well as dinner, and before Rylie knew it, she was back in her familiar bed in the Gryffindor tower after bidding her friends goodnight. Before sleep took her, something in the back of her mind told her that this year was going to be different than the rest.

~*~

Potions. Rylie hated potions with a passion, and what was worse? It was a double potions class that they had to share with the Slytherins. Rylie frowned down at her potions book and looked up to Slughorn who was talking about a theory on different stirring methods. She whimpered and dropped her head down to her book with a small thud. She couldn't help but smirk when she felt a hand gently pat her shoulder. 

“Just put me out of my misery, please.” Rylie whimpered as she turned her face to look at James who was sitting next to her. 

“Sorry, no can do. You know the rules. If I have to suffer, you have to suffer as well.” 

Rylie frowned at the statement and pouted, sitting up and adjusting her hair just as Slughorn began to change topics. 

“This year, you all will be partnered up with another student and work on a project that will be due by the end of the year.”

Rylie's eyes lit up and she looked to James who also had a similar look in his eye. Rylie and James worked well together. They looked over to Remus and Sirius who were behind them, and they too had smiles on their faces.

“Ah! Don't get ahead of yourselves!” Slughorn said, raising a finger and shaking it at the students while smiling. He turned around and picked up a top hat that was on his desk and waved his wand. “I'll be picking your partners.” A chorus of groans went around the room, joined by Rylie and James. “Don't you start whining! See this as an opportunity to make new friends!” Slughorn said. Rylie frowned, feeling dread creep into her mind as she sat back in her chair as Slughorn began to read off the pairs. A few minutes later, her name was finally drawn. “Rylie Kipping and Evan Rosier.”

Rylie felt as if her body was dunked in ice. She spun around in her seat and frowned as she spotted Rosier in the back. He was a Slytherin, and not a very nice one at that and she couldn't help but feel that this year just got a whole lot worse. Evan scowled when he saw her and turned away, throwing his arms across his chest. Rylie narrowed her eyes and turned around, crossing her arms over her chest as well and pouting. 

~*~

“I can't believe this!” Rylie cried as she tossed her bag to the floor by the sofa in the common room. “Is Slughorn trying to make me fail potions?” she cried as she fell onto the sofa, burying her face into a pillow. Remus frowned and shrugged a shoulder as he sat down in one of the oversized chairs by the fireplace. 

“I'm sorry, Ry..” James said as he reached down and pulled out a book from his bag. “Just make sure you don't, like, fall in love with him and start snogging him senselessly.” 

Rylie growled and picked up her pillow and tossed it at James, hitting him square in the face and sending his glasses askew. James laughed and tossed the pillow back. “I'm heading to bed.” Rylie said as she stood up and grabbed her bag and trudged her way up the stairs to her dorm. As soon as she stepped inside, an owl was sitting outside her window. She quirked a brow, wondering who would send an owl at this hour and opened up the window to take the letter. She quickly opened it up and frowned at the handwriting that she didn't recognize. 

Meet me by the lake tomorrow after lunch.

-Evan

Rylie frowned and gave the owl a treat and sent him on his way. She had no other choice but to jump into this with both feet and just suck it up and deal with it.

    ~*~

With a pressing urge for a smoke that was nearly intolerable, Evan Rosier found himself desperate to locate a refuge where he could indulge his vice without repercussions. It wasn't the threat of disciplinary action from the school that unnerved him; rather, it was the fear of parental wrath. His parents were hardly the epitome of congeniality, and through years of bitter experiences, he'd discovered how crucial it was to avoid being in their bad graces.

His eyes traced the path of the approaching water as he meandered until he was stationed at the brink of the lake. Settling onto his favored stone perch - a spot that had borne witness to many a smoke break - he glanced around furtively before retrieving a lone cigarette from his robes. Securing it between his lips, he whispered an incantation, and within seconds, his lungs were filled with the satisfying rush of smoke. However, the bliss of stolen moments with a cigarette in the confines of Hogwarts was always short-lived.

Upon hearing the intrusive crunch of footsteps echoing behind him, he swore under his breath, shooting a quick glance over his shoulder to confirm that the intruder was not a prefect. Seeing no badge of authority stitched onto the girl's robes, he let out a sigh of relief and resumed his solitary moment. She was attractive, he noted absently. Under different circumstances - had she not donned the scarlet and gold emblem of Gryffindor - he might have bothered to exchange a few words. As it stood, he deemed it an unlikely scenario.

Each stride Rylie took towards the lake drew her increasingly into the peculiar scenario their Potions professor had crafted. She often questioned his motives. Could it be a whimsical experiment, a spectacle to observe what occurs when a Gryffindor and a Slytherin are thrown together? Or was this retribution for that time she had sneakily cast a sticky charm on Evan's seat? The latter seemed more plausible.

"I'm surprised you haven't coughed up a lung yet, Evan.." The hint of scorn in her voice was unmistakable, though she wasn’t being completely serious as she took a seat on the soft grass, maintaining a comfortable distance from him. Shedding her school robe, she appreciated the pleasant weather. If there was one advantage to these meetups, it was the chance to enjoy a good day outdoors.

Evan frowned and shook his head as he took the cigarette out of his mouth. “I don't judge you for not smoking, so don't judge me for smoking.” he said gruffly as he put it out on the rock. He looked up to her and frowned. “So are you here to enjoy the lake, talk about the project, or ruin my smoke?” he asked as he looked back at the lake. 

Rylie frowned and shifted uncomfortably as she reached forward and grabbed her messenger bag, pulling out her book. “You’re the one that invited me down here..” she grumbled, his words stinging her. “Let's just get this over and done with please, I'm sure this is about as comfortable for you as it is for me.” 

“Touche.” Evan grumbled as he reached down to grab his book from his bag. “So what’s this project about?” 

“About the inner workings of Werewolves and their underground culture, what types there are, etc etc-” she casually rolled her hand in the air at the last part of her sentence as she managed to find her notes in her bag. “And we have to brew a Wolfsbane potion.” she said looking up to him, her heart skipping a beat when their eyes met. She quickly looked away and cleared her throat.

“And this needs to be a group project?” Evan asked as he began to doodle a bird on the corner of his parchment.

“I honestly think Slugorn just gets off on torturing us,” Rylie muttered.

“How about we just find a werewolf, unleash it upon the professor, then mark the gradebook with an A?” Evan proposed, his eyes flicking towards her momentarily. “It’d be a great demonstration and take out the professor at the same time. Win-Win!” he elaborated, extracting the cigarette from his mouth and extinguishing it on the stone beneath him while exhaling a gust of smoke. Engrossed in his bird sketch, he patiently awaited her response, anticipating some ingenious proposition that wouldn't disappoint.

Rylie turned to Evan and actually let herself smile, a chuckle escaping her lips. "That is an amazing idea! Too bad there's the whole being thrown into Azkaban provided the werewolf doesn't, you know, kill us first.” She glanced down at her blank parchment and took her quill, punching a hole in the middle of it with the sharp tip. The scary thing about this moment was the fact that she was thinking something along the same lines and on top of that, it would be something she would say if she were with her friends in the same situation. She bit her lip and continued digging at the parchment.

Evan observed her briefly, a smirk fleeting across his lips. He released a soft chuckle, returning his attention to the bird he was sketching. "Seems like we need a Plan B, then. A stay in Azkaban isn't exactly on my bucket list, nor is getting mauled by a werewolf," he articulated, the faint smirk lingering on his lips. He glanced her way, directing his gaze downward to meet hers. "Got any thoughts?" he inquired, his tone surprisingly serious. He was keen on getting this task out of the way as swiftly as possible.

A gentle smile tugged at the corners of her mouth at his chuckle. She bobbed her head in agreement, "Yeah, I suspected as much." She exhaled heavily, stealing a fleeting look at him before swiftly shifting her gaze to the tranquility of the lake. She didn't want to hold his gaze for too long. "Well, I'm aware that you're as eager to leave this place as I am." Her voice tapered off as she cast her eyes downward to her parchment, now sporting a considerable hole at its center. "Looks like we might have to resort to the old-fashioned poster board route.”

After a few hours of going over their plans to outline their project, Rylie closed her book. “I think we're good for the day.” she remarked, rising from her seat and starting to gather her belongings. As she turned to face Evan, her eyes widened in surprise when he casually began to remove his shirt.

“What? You've never seen a naked chest before?” He asked, smirking as he began to undo his pants.

“I..”Rylie stammered, momentarily tongue-tied. She could feel a rush of warmth coloring her cheeks. Swiftly, she pivoted away from him, her hand instinctively rising to shield her gaze. “Do you always make it a habit of undressing in front of random people?” she managed to say, her voice a pitch higher. Meanwhile, a solitary blade of grass at her feet suddenly became the most fascinating thing she'd ever seen.

“Shy?” Evan asked, and Rylie could hear the laughter in his voice. She heard more articles of clothing fall to the ground and she mentally cursed herself for not being able to find the strength to move her feet. “Besides, this isn't any different than going to the beach and running around in a swimsuit.”

Rylie growled and looked over her shoulder, feeling her face grow hot as she caught a glimpse of Evan in his boxers as he made his way into the lake. “I'm not shy..” she muttered as she ran a hand through her hair.

“If you're not shy, then join me.” he dared.

Rylie frowned. There it was. That urge to rebel and go against everything and just take a chance, but this was too much of a risk. He was a Slytherin, and why was he even asking for her to join? It didn't make sense. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Nice try.” She said as she adjusted the bag on her shoulder. “Besides, I don't think it'd look good on your part being caught in your boxers with a Gryffindor.”

“So leave.” Evan said simply as he stepped deeper into the lake. 

“Fine..” Rylie muttered as she turned her back on him and began to walk up the hill toward the castle. She couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed by turning down the challenge to jump into the lake. No matter how cute he was, she was still a Gryffindor and he was still a Slytherin.. and she would not, could not, go against her loyalties of her house and friends.

'This is going to go way over my head...' she thought.

~*~

A week had passed since the incident at the lake, and Evan and Rylie had met only once since then and it had to have been one of the most awkward experiences of her life and she couldn't help but feel that this entire project was just doomed. She sighed as she flopped onto one of the sofas by the fireplace in the common room and let go of a groan as she covered her face with her hands. She was thankful that the common room was empty at the moment so she could have a little bit of peace. She looked down at her watch and frowned. It was a Friday night, so some students were either out in the courtyard, snogging in the halls, or socializing in the Great Hall. As for her friends, James and Remus were most likely off patrolling (if one could call it that), and Sirius...she honestly had no idea where he had run off to.

A soft pecking noise brought her back from her thoughts and she frowned when she saw the owl sitting at the windowsill. She stood up and opened up the window, allowing her father's owl to fly in and perch itself on the table in front of her. “What are you doing here?” she asked gently as she reached out and took the letter that the bird had. She gave the bird a small pat on the head, apologizing for not giving him any treats and sent him on his way. She looked down at the letter and frowned. It felt heavy, and she could feel her hand almost begin to shake with nerves she wasn't quite sure she should be feeling. 

Rylie slowly sat back down on the sofa, staring at her fathers hand writing as she turned the parchment over and began to open it. She could feel her heart pound in her chest as she saw the first line.

“ Dear Rylie,

I hope this letter finds you well and you’re all settled in. I'm writing you this letter to tell you something important, and it's not the easiest thing to do. Your mother and I will be getting a divorce. I know this news might not be that shocking, but I can understand how upsetting it can be nonetheless and I'm really sorry to drop it on you like this.

With this in mind, your mom has decided it might be best for her to move out for a while. We both want you to understand that none of this is because of you. We love you so much, and that will never change, no matter what.

I promise to keep you updated and send more information through owl post when I can.

Take care,

Dad.”

A tidal wave of emotions engulfed Rylie so abruptly she could hardly decide which to process first. With her mother being a muggle who only entered the wizarding world through marriage, she really should have anticipated this. It had been a considerable surprise for her mother, or so her father had revealed, when the hidden world of magic was unveiled. Initially, her mother was captivated by it. However, as the menacing shadow of Voldemort and his Death Eaters began to loom and her father's role as an Auror grew increasingly perilous, her mother's fascination turned into apprehension.

When it was time for Rylie to join Hogwarts, her mother resisted, expressing fears about having her so far away for such a prolonged period. Rylie empathized with her mother. Being an only child, she grasped her mother's dread of an empty house, and the challenging prospect of protecting her from such a distance. Yet, after a week of heart-wrenching deliberation, her mother conceded, her father having explained that Hogwarts was the only place where Rylie could master her magical abilities, and that the school's massive protective enchantments would keep her safe.

Rylie's first day at school was tough. Her mother's apprehension about letting her little girl attend a boarding school was palpable, and it required a lot of persuasion on Rylie's part to get her mother to allow her to go. Their parting was tear-stained but brief. The real turmoil began during the Christmas break of Rylie's sixth year. Her father, unexpectedly, didn't return home on Christmas Eve, plunging her mother into a whirlwind of panic. It was only on Christmas morning that he arrived, his robes charred and face bruised. After the initial shock wore off, her mother's despair was near unbearable. Rylie could comprehend her mother's wrath, as the uncertainty of her husband's return was a constant source of dread.

That night marked the first of many wherein her mother would be alone, with Rylie away at school and her father in the company of Aurors. It was evident there was only so much her mother could endure and Rylie was reaching her own limit as well.

Rylie found herself engrossed in the letter, so absorbed that the sound of the portrait door creaking open didn't register. The voices of Sirius and James snapped her back to reality. As she lifted her gaze, she hastily hid the letter into her pocket, yet Sirius's quick eyes caught the motion. He arched an eyebrow, a silent question passing over his features. “Is everything okay?” he inquired as he walked over and sat down next to her. 

Mustering the strength, Rylie donned a small, convincing smile and nodded in affirmation. “Yeah, fine, everything's fine,” she assured him with a small bump of her shoulder, her voice dressed in false serenity as she surreptitiously wiped away a stray tear.

James, sensing her unease, creased his forehead in worry. “Are you sure? It looks like you've been crying…” he observed, making his way towards Rylie before taking a seat on the other side of her.

Rylie glanced up at him, managing to paint another small, brittle smile on her face. “Yep!” The need to leave, to flee from the room, suddenly felt overpowering now that both boys were on either side of her.

She knew they were only trying to help and that they cared deeply, but it was too much. This was too much. She couldn’t voice it. She couldn’t accept the reality. She ran her hands over her face. 

James opened his mouth to speak but Rylie’s voice cut in,“Boyyssss…I swear to Merlin.” she groaned into the palms of her hands. The sound of her annoyance both making James and Sirius both look at each other with looks of ‘Oh shit, we fucked up.’

After a moment of some deep breaths, she spoke. “I'll be back, I forgot I had to take care of something” She hurriedly excused herself, her footfalls echoing behind her as she dashed out of the room.

~*~

She honestly didn't know where her feet were taking her, all she knew was that it was far away from the common room and the barrage of questions from James and Sirius. She ducked down into a hidden passage away and continued to run until she reached a door and pushed it open, finding herself outside on the grounds staring at the dark black water of the lake below.

She frowned and took a breath as she walked down to the lake. She needed an escape, needed to just let go. She pulled out her father's letter as she reached the edge of the lake and looked down to the parchment, re-reading it and hoping to find some clue that this was all a mistake and just some cruel joke. Yet sadly, the words on the paper remained the same. She stood silently in the warm muggy night, and without even thinking, she began to strip off her clothes down to her underwear. She folded her clothes and placed it on the same rock Evan had been sitting on days prior and placed the letter on top then dove into the water. The water felt like ice, but Rylie didn't care. It felt good to feel something other than the emotional pain that was ripping at her soul. She closed her eyes and let herself sink under the water, allowing herself to empty her mind and just focus on holding her breath.

After close to a minute, Rylie could feel her lungs begin to burn as the need of oxygen started to creep in. She knew she couldn't last much longer, heck, she wasn't even trying to kill herself. She just needed something to make her feel alive rather than feeling like the numb, pitiful girl that she was at the moment.  She turned quickly under the water when she heard splashing and frowned when she heard her name being called out. Who the hell would be splashing around in the lake at this time at night? She slowly moved back, and tried to keep quiet, hoping that whoever it was would go away.

Just then, a face suddenly appeared in front of hers and Rylie let out a shocked, silent scream which in turn made her accidently swallow some water. The boy reached out and grabbed her around the waist and pulled her up. She panicked and began to struggle, but the pair of arms were too strong. When their heads broke the surface, Rylie coughed and sputtered as she gasped for air, cursing loudly. “What the hell are you doing?! Let me go!” she cried, but the boy ignored her and dragged her back to land and not so nicely, dropped her to the ground. Her eyes widened when she looked up and saw that that boy was Evan Rosier. “Rosier?! What the bloody hell?!” She cried.

“What the bloody hell is wrong with you?!” he screamed at her as he paced in front of her, running his hands through his hair. He was honestly shocked at how terrified he was from losing her. He couldn’t exactly explain what the hell he felt. All he knew was she was someone who he couldn’t lose. He paused and looked at her. Really looked at her. She was shaking, her arms hugging her legs to her chest but her bright green eyes were glued on him, as if in shock that she was actually witnessing a caring Slytherin. He let go of a sigh and collapsed to the ground next to her, burying his face into his hands. 

Silence hung heavily between them until he broke it with a whisper, “Merlin you scared me...” His confession made her eyes go wide and a blush creep onto her cheeks, but it was short-lived as his typically abrasive manner snapped back. “What the hell were you doing!?”

Rylie fixed her gaze on him, a question burning in her eyes: Why was he so concerned about her? Was he under the impression that she would recklessly endanger her own life? A sudden chill coursed through her, and she became painfully aware of her semi-nudity in his presence, promptly crossing her arms over her chest. “What was I doing? I was going for a swim, what does it look like!?” she muttered, her voice edged with irritation.

“You were under for too bloody long and you know it,” Evan countered, his tone a low growl as his eyes studied her. With a sigh, he shrugged off his robe, employed his wand to dry and warm the fabric in a swift movement. He stood and draped it over her shivering shoulders, giving shoulders a small squeeze before sliding back down onto the grass next to her.

Rylie lapsed into silence, her retort fizzling out as his robe cascaded onto her shoulders. Instinctively, she clutched it, pulling it snugly around herself. Leaning into the fabric, she took in the peculiar blend of cologne and cigarettes. An unexpected frown played at her lips as she acknowledged a strange affinity for the scent.

“I read your letter..” he announced, his voice jerking Rylie back from her reverie.

A startled look flashed across her face at his revelation, yet she found herself speechless, managing only a soft, “Oh..” She yearned to lash out, to tell him he had no right to invade her privacy, but there was something in the way he spoke that muted her indignation before the words could materialize.

The sound of Evan turning to face her reached her ears, but she maintained her steadfast gaze on the lake, stubbornly avoiding his sight, because she knew that meeting his eyes would bring forth a flood of emotions. “It's not the end of the world, you know.”

“I know it's not..” Rylie murmured in response.

“You sure about that?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. She felt him move closer to her, and normally she would have moved away, but she found herself glued to the spot. “It's okay to feel upset, it's okay to hurt.” he said as he looked out to the lake. 

He then turned back to look at her, flashing her a comforting smile. “But it's not okay to scare the bloody hell out of me.”

Rylie really wasn't sure how to take this situation. Why was he bothering to help her, give her the time of day when the two practically hated each other and were only working together because they were forced against their will. After a moment, she looked over to him as a very small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “I guess the world is ending, Rosier, since you're being so nice to me.”

Evan chuckled softly and shook his head. “No, you just don't know me very well.”

Rylie gave a nod and watched him for a moment, and suddenly, she felt it. Her heart gave a lurch and she felt her eyes begin to burn as tears slowly began to slide down her cheeks. She quickly turned her face away from him, hugging her legs closer to her chest as she buried her face in her knees. The dam was cracking and before she knew it, she felt it break and a small sob escaped her lips. She hated herself for breaking down in front of Evan, but there was something about the situation that said it was okay and that she was safe with him.

Evan slid an arm around Rylie’s shoulders, “Shh…” he whispered and within a heartbeat, she slumped against his side. Her sobs carried questions ranging from, “What the hell did I do wrong?” to “How the hell does love exist when this happens?” All the while, Evan remained quiet, his fingers gently massaging her shoulders in an earnest attempt to soothe her the only way he could.

After a few moments, Rylie began to regain her composure. She nibbled at her lip, torn between distancing herself from him and remaining in his comforting hold. His unexpected kindness left her in a state of confusion, unsure of what would follow. “I'm sorry you had to sit through that..” she murmured.

“Never apologize, and you're wrong, love does exist and they're not trying to hurt you.. I know it's not much, but it's what I believe in.” he whispered. At least that’s what he wanted to believe in.  “I'm not really good on the whole advice thing, but I do know that when the initial hurt goes away, everything else will start to fall into place.”

Rylie scoffed and shook her head as she sat up, keeping within close proximity,  unwilling to severe the close contact quite yet. “Love is such a bunch of bull shit.”

“Only if you convince yourself it is.” he whispered to her. Their eyes locked for a brief second and all of a sudden, Rylie felt something spark within her. He quickly looked away and Rylie bit her lip, frowning and feeling a bit ashamed.  “I'm not here to change your opinion, or tell you what to believe, but you should probably rethink your accusations. Sometimes love hurts, but it doesn't mean it's 'bull', if it was none-existent, it wouldn't hurt so bad.” he whispered. 

Rylie bit her lip and sighed softly at his words as she looked down to the ground. The feeling she was feeling inside of her began to grow and she mentally cursed herself. There was no way she could allow herself to feel this way. Plus, she knew this was only going to be a one night deal and the next day, they would act as if nothing had ever happened and everything would go back to how it was. “Sometimes I wish it was non-existent..” she whispered. “It'd make things a whole lot easier..”

“And a lot more boring.” Evan said. He looked down to his watch and then back up to the castle, frowning softly. “We should get going, we're out past curfew.”

Rylie nodded and detached herself fully from Evan. She grabbed her clothes and with the slight cover of his robes, she dressed herself. She handed his robe back with a thank you. “I know a few shortcuts to avoid getting caught.”

A few minutes later, they arrived outside the Slytherin common room. Rylie poked her head out of the door and after the coast was clear, waved him to come forward. “Do me a favor.. don't tell anybody about this.” She said, speaking not only about the secret passage ways, but also about their encounter down at the lake.

Evan gave a nod and smiled. “No problem.” He stepped out into the hall, then paused, turning around to gently tap her chin, causing Rylie to turn red. “Cheer up, kid.” He said softly as he turned away and slipped into his common room.

After a few brief seconds, Rylie convinced her feet to move again and began to make her way toward the Gryffindor common room, praying that everybody would be asleep by then. After whispering the password to the Fat Lady, she stepped inside the portrait hole and suddenly stopped when she saw James sitting on the sofa. “It's after midnight, Ry..” James said softly.

Rylie frowned and ran a hand through her damp hair. “So? When did you care how late I stayed out?” she said, forcing a small smile on her face as she found a sudden need to loosen her tie. James patted the sofa next to him and Rylie chewed her lip, not sure if she really wanted to sit down. “I really gotta get to bed..” Rylie said as she began to walk toward the staircase.

“Rylie, please.” James begged. He gave her his infamous puppy eyes causing Rylie to crack a small smile. James’ lips also turned into a small, proud that he was finally able to make his dear friend smile just a little bit.

Rylie sighed and walked over to behind the sofa. She wrapped her arms around James from behind and placed a kiss against his cheek. “You know I love you,” her voice trailed and she sighed resting her cheek on top of his head, “Thank you for being concerned for me, but I'm fine. Okay? Don't worry about me.” She leaned back down and gave him another hug. “Promise..”

James gave a defeated sigh and placed his hands on her forearms. He always loved her since the first day he met her. Their attempt at a relationship in their fourth year had been a whirlwind; it had faltered when Rylie had chosen silence over confrontation with him, and of course it was over Lily and his feelings for her. For a painstaking six months, she'd acted as if he were invisible until she finally acknowledged his presence. It was then they decided that dating was not a good idea and their friendship meant so much more. They were too far on the opposite ends of the spectrum, but nearly carbon copies of each other. It’s the perfectly terrifying combination for a chaotic friendship, but as partners? Impossible. “I'll try not to.” he said, giving her arms a squeeze. “And I love you too..I just don’t like seeing you in pain Ry..” he whispered.  

Rylie tightened her grip around James. “I know,” she whispered. A lot of people had made comments saying the two would go well together, even James' mom had suggested it once or twice. But Rylie knew who James had his heart set on. There had been many nights where James and her would stay up late and talk about Lily or she would comfort him after she had rejected him. They were best friends, and that meant putting her own feelings for him aside, even though she knew they two wouldn’t work. But she couldn’t help the moments where she just wanted to shake him and tell him to just give up on Lily and just kiss him, but deep down she knew they were only meant to be friends.

“I gotta get to bed. Potions in the morning.” Rylie said softly as she gave James one final squeeze and let go. She ruffled his hair, smiling at his small disgruntled cry. 

“Alright, have a good night.” James said as he adjusted his glasses. Rylie gave a nod and made her way up stairs, her brain buzzing in confusion. 

~*~

The next morning, a very tired Rylie joined her three friends for breakfast. “Move over..” she mumbled to James and Sirius as she wedged herself in between the two on the bench. Sirius raised an eyebrow and looked to James, silently asking him if he had found out where she had been the night before. James just shook his head, an indicator to Sirius to just drop it.

“Coffee?” Remus asked Rylie, trying to change the subject. Rylie nodded as she held out her mug across James so Remus could fill it.

Sirius turned to Rylie with an interested look. "Hey Rylie, where did you wander off to last night?" he asked, his tone light but curious.

Next to him, James released a low groan, shaking his head with a mix of annoyance and amusement. He busied himself with pushing around the eggs on his plate.

Rylie paused, a mouthful of pancake caught mid-chew. She studied Sirius for a moment, an eyebrow raised in mild confusion. "I just went for a swim, no biggie," she mumbled, and began chewing again. After swallowing, she shot Sirius a puzzled look. "Why? What's up?" she asked, trying to read his expression.

Sirius sighed softly and shook his head. What Rylie didn't know was that Sirius had been out on the grounds that night, against James advice, just in case Rylie had done something stupid. He had seen the interaction between Evan and Rylie and couldn't help but feel somewhat betrayed. He knew they were working together on a project, but there was something about that night that bothered him and he couldn't help but feel slightly jealous that she would disclose what was wrong with her to a Slytherin and not to her best friends.

A few moments passed, punctuated by a stern glare James shot Sirius's way. Finally, Sirius shook off the tension with a dismissive shake of his head, aiming a small, reassuring smile at Rylie. "It's nothing," he declared, punctuating his words with a friendly nudge of his elbow against hers. 

Rylie, however, only offered a brief nod in response, suddenly feeling trapped. She quickly scarfed down the rest of her breakfast and stood up. “Merlin, when the hell are you guys going to fucking drop it?!” she damn near yelled. There was a small pause in conversation from the immediate circle of students around them. Rylie slowly stood up and without another word, she left The Great Hall.

Sirius's gaze trailed after her, confusion knitting his brows together. Turning to James, he frowned, a mixture of concern and confusion painted on his features. "What the hell is going on with her?" he asked. 

James let out a sigh, hoisting a single shoulder in a helpless shrug. He lifted his glass, taking a sip of the orange juice as he considered Sirius. He found himself wishing that Sirius would exhibit more delicacy in such situations, particularly when it came to Rylie. "I'm not sure," he admitted, his gaze clouded with worry. "But that letter she got couldn’t have been good news.”

“It might have been about her parents.” Remus' voice cut in. Sirius frowned and James turned to Remus, raising a brow. “Well it makes sense,” he continued as he put his fork down and looked between the two. “Haven't they been fighting for the past two years? Ry’s dad has been going on longer and longer missions with the Ministry and with the rise of the Death Eaters..” he sighed and saw the pained look on Sirius’ face. He took a breath. “You can tell how Rylie gets when she's asked about them. She just skirts over the issue and changes the topic.”

James frowned and sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew with the impending war against Voldemort and the Death Eaters, that tensions were high in the Kipping household. Her father had been going on longer missions and her mom, a muggle, was having a hard time coping with the stress of potentially losing her husband and family. He understood stress like that could put a severe strain on the family. It was why Rylie practically lived at the Potter household whenever she could. It was her second home away from home. 

“So she'll tell a Slytherin about her issues and not us?” Sirius said, his tone slightly harsh and hurt. 

James caught the bitterness in his tone and nearly choked on his food. “I’m sorry, what!?” James asked, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline.

Sirius sighed and went onto elaborate. “I saw her by the lake last night with a boy, who looked like a Slytherin,” He poked at his sausage and grumbled. “and he was comforting her. Had his arm around her and everything.”

“I wouldn't read too much into it, mate..” James advised, clinging to the hope that this was nothing more than an isolated incident.

Sirius frowned and shook his head. He looked over his shoulder to the Slytherin table, trying to figure out which boy it was, but because it was so dark the night before, he wasn't able to see a face. After a minute he gave up and turned around and shoved a muffin into his mouth.

“You don’t think it could be Rosier?” Remus said silently. James almost didn’t pick up on the question and shot a glance to him, his eyes urging him to continue. “Isn’t she paired with him in Potions?” 

Sirius spun around on the bench to face the Slytherin table, his eyes glossing over the students till he saw Evan Rosier who seemed to be enjoying whatever conversation he was engaged in with his fellow students. He narrowed his eyes and turned around. “He’s a prat..” he muttered.

Remus shook his head at Sirius’ reaction. “Mate, don’t jump to conclusions okay? Rylie’s a big girl and she can take care of herself. Besides, she doesn’t have a choice but to work with him and I’m sure if there’s any issues, she’ll let us know.”

“I’m not so sure about that..” James muttered as he too looked over his shoulder to the Slytherin table and watched as Evan stood up to leave for class.

~*~

In the days that followed, Rylie found herself taken aback. Following their lakeside encounter, she and Evan had gradually found common ground and were on their way to crafting a fairly impressive project.

"So we're gonna need to get those ingredients for that wolfsbane potion and get started on that by next week," suggested Rylie, her fingers trailing over the pages of her potions guide.

"That could work, it takes a few months to brew that doesn't it?” queried Evan, his gaze lifting from the diligent notes before him. They had claimed an abandoned classroom as their own, a secret sanctuary perfect for uninterrupted project work, tucked away from the usual hustle and bustle.

"It does, and it's pretty tricky from the looks of it, you're pretty good at brewing potions right?" Rylie probed.

"I'm fairly decent," responded Evan, understating his talent with an air of modesty.

"Well, better than me, that's for sure. But ya know what, if we fail on the potion, we could always bring in a werewolf and have it attack the class as we change the grade in the book," Rylie added, her smirk suggestive of her mischief.

Evan's chuckle echoed in the quiet room as he jotted down another note from his book.

A tender smile crept onto Rylie's face, a familiar flutter resurfacing in her stomach. She dismissed it instantly, unwilling to delve deeper into its origin. She sighed, her gaze dropping to the parchment before her, her brow furrowing as she began to fidget with her chair. In a moment of absent-mindedness, her chair tipped backwards, sending her sprawling to the floor with a thud, her head making a jarring contact with the cold, unforgiving floor.

“Ow! Merlin's saggy left ass cheek!” Rylie cried as she reached back, pressing her hand to the large egg that had formed.

Evan couldn't suppress his laughter as Rylie unleashed a volley of expletives. Rising to his feet, he sauntered over to her, and then crouched down, a smirk playing on his lips. "You alright?" he inquired, gently moving her hand to feel the bump on her head. A warm flush spread over Rylie's face, her skin tingling under the touch of his fingers. "That's a pretty large bump, do you want to go to Madam Pomfrey?" he proposed.

Rylie, gently shaking her head, began to push herself up. "No, I'll be alright. Thanks though," she assured him. Evan extended a hand, assisting her back to her feet. He grasped the fallen chair, setting it back upright with a cheeky smirk.

"So, we'll have to get some ingredients from the potions cabinet, and the book to actually make the potion is in the restricted section and it could take up to weeks to get permission to get it.” Rylie mused, jotting down their requirements.

Evan's expression turned into a frown. "So scrap the idea?"

Rylie's chuckle echoed in the room. "No, I think I may have a way to get a hold of that book," she said, a sly smile spreading across her face.

Evan gave her a skeptical look as he placed a book back into his bag. “Really? How so?”

“It's a surprise, besides, I have to bug James first about it. I'm sure he wouldn't mind,” her voice trailed in thought leaving Evan a bit worried about what Rylie had planned. Rylie had to be careful about how she phrased her request to James. She knew he was aware she was working with Evan on this project, but the thing that he wasn't aware of, and even Rylie for that matter, was that the more time they spent together, the closer they became. She looked down to her watch and frowned as she stood up. “Crap..” she muttered as she began to shove her books into her bag.

Evan frowned at her sudden change of mood. “What?” he asked.

Rylie sighed and shook her head. “I forgot I had to meet James at the Quidditch pitch for a team meeting.” she grumbled. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair as she shouldered her bag. “I'll work on a way to get that book.” She said as she quickly rushed out of the room, leaving Evan standing there completely in shock and awe. 

“Oh Rosier…you’re in deep shit..” he muttered to himself as he shoved his books into his bag, trying to suppress the butterflies that stirred in his stomach.

~*~

"What on earth took you so long?" James muttered, stowing his broom back into its closet nook. He spun around, his expression hardening as he regarded Rylie, who was nervously gnawing her lower lip and shifting her weight from foot to foot. Her absence from practice hadn't gone unnoticed, inching her closer to the brink of dismissal from the team.

His frown deepening at her silence, James shook his head. “Rylie, you know full well that you're on the edge of being kicked off this team. You're one of my best beaters and we can't afford that.” he emphasized, his tone softening as he approached her. He laid his hands on her shoulders and gave her a gentle jolt, compelling her to meet his gaze. "Please, Rylie."

Acknowledging him with a nod, Rylie quietly responded, "Okay." She was fully aware that she was treading a precarious line. The accumulated incidents of detentions and last year's infamous fight with Severus Snape were pushing her perilously close to the edge; one more strike, and Professor McGonagall would ensure her departure from the team.

"So, where on earth were you?" James asked, patting her shoulder and draping his arm around her as he guided her out of the Quidditch changing rooms.

"Studying and working on that project with that Slytherin I was paired with. Guess I just lost track of time," she replied as they emerged onto the school grounds. Halting mid-step, Rylie turned her gaze to James. "Speaking of which, can I borrow your cloak?"

Caught off guard, James halted and quirked an eyebrow. "Sure, but why?"

"I need access to the restricted section, and I can’t afford to wait for the approval process." she responded, resuming her walk with her gaze fixated on the path beneath their feet.

"Sure, you know where I keep it, just make sure you take good care of it," James said as they neared the castle. His mind was teetering on the verge of confronting her about the recent mysterious note and Sirius's sighting by the lake, but he thought better of it. Experience had taught him that Rylie would retreat into herself if pushed too hard. However, he knew that whatever had upset her demanded their vigilant watch to prevent her from self-destruction.

"Of course I'll take care of it!" Rylie retorted, her chuckle lightening the air as she playfully nudged him in the arm.

~*~

Upon entering the common room, they were greeted by the sight of Sirius and Remus engrossed in a heated game of chess. Rylie sauntered over to them, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth as she leaned over Sirius' shoulder. "Careful now, I think I see smoke coming from your ears."

"Oi, I'd like to see you finish a game for once..." Sirius grumbled, reaching out to move his King piece.

"Check mate!" declared Remus, commanding his queen to seize its throne, smashing Sirius' king to the ground. Sirius leaned back with a groan, turning his gaze to Rylie.

"I blame you." He accused playfully, reaching out to pull her into his lap. Rylie let out a surprised squeal, dissolving into laughter.

"It's not my fault you're awful at chess!" She retorted amid her giggles. Embracing her friend warmly, she planted a playful peck on his cheek before freeing herself. However, the atmosphere seemed to shift as she glanced at Remus, who wore a contemplative look. The mirth in the room dwindled; even James, who had been silently watching Remus, seemed to silently implore him to remain silent. "What?" she queried, sensing the change, her gaze flickering between Sirius, whose chuckles had died down to a quiet cough, and James, who bit his lip nervously.

"Is everything okay?" Remus finally ventured, his voice soft. He was privy to the knowledge of the letter she had received; James and Sirius had informed him just moments after Rylie had ventured off to the lake the previous night.

Rylie raised an eyebrow, looking between the three of them. "Um, yeah? Why wouldn't it be?" she managed to respond, trying to keep her smile intact.

Remus sighed and shook his head. "Rylie, you know we care about you, and we know you received a letter from your parents," he said gently.

A wave of frustration creased Rylie's forehead, her arms crossing defensively over her chest. Her body language screamed defiance to the intervention. James, recognizing her defensive stance, exchanged a quick, apprehensive look with Remus, ready to approach the situation delicately. But before he could begin, Rylie held up her hand, effectively silencing him before he could utter a word.

"My parents are getting a divorce, happy? Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going for a walk..." Rylie declared sharply, not waiting for a response or observing their reactions. She swiftly spun on her heels and walked out of the common room and out into the castle halls, her rage seething beneath her skin. She had preferred to keep them in the dark; confessing it would only confirm its reality, a fact she wasn't ready to face yet.

James let out a frustrated sigh, sinking into the cushiony depths of one of the sprawling chairs. He rubbed his temples, trying to alleviate the tension as he turned his gaze to Remus. "You just had to go and do that..." he grumbled under his breath. 

"James, you know she'd never open up unless we confronted her," Remus gently defended. His eyes wandered to Sirius, who was still staring at the staircase from where Rylie had made her abrupt exit.

Resigned, James turned to Sirius and Remus, his head bobbing in a reluctant nod. "Guess you're right," he conceded, his voice barely above a whisper. Prodding Rylie for information was something he abhorred, but he had to admit that Remus was correct – it was the only way to ensure she wouldn't act recklessly.

At least he hoped.

~*~

Evan Rosier was known for his frequent trips down to the lakeside, often to have a smoke. Today was a bit different, though. Today he needed more than just one cigarette; he had the entire pack with him. An unsettling weight had descended upon him earlier that morning via owl was one not to be dispelled with a single puff. As he trudged down the slope to the water's edge, a disgruntled sigh escaped his lips. His robes billowed in the breeze while he closed his eyes, wishing to be anywhere but Hogwarts.

Upon reaching the water, Evan’s brow furrowed. Solitude, it seemed, was too much to ask. Discarding someone else’s clothes from his favorite rock, he settled down, ready for the first cigarette of his chain-smoking session. The lighting of his cigarette, a flicker of orange in the dim light, caught Rylie's attention as she surfaced from the lake.

Watching him from a distance, Rylie hesitated. She had found herself back down at the lake after she finally told the boys of her parent’s divorce. She watched Evan momentarily and taking in the sight.  Evan's form, still as a statue, signaled something amiss. The sight of him chain-smoking only added to her suspicions. Just as she was about to address him, Evan's voice carried across the water, "Why is it that you're always mostly naked and wet when I see you?"

Rylie blushed but managed a light-hearted retort, "Why are you always down here when I swim? Stalking me, perhaps?" Despite her playful tone, she felt a pang of concern, "Are you okay?" she inquired as she moved closer to the shore line.

Evan, trying to maintain his mask of indifference, replied, "Ever considered that you might always be here when I want to smoke?" 

This was the Evan that Rylie knew from their study sessions: enigmatic, distant, and perpetually guarded. Yet, Rylie sensed an undercurrent of turmoil. "I haven’t heard from my parents since the letter…” She mentioned casually, trying to pave a path for Evan to open up.

The casualness of her statement took Evan aback. "I'm... sorry," he replied, taken off guard. 

“Come join me.” Rylie simply stated. “Maybe a swim will help?”

Evan hesitated, torn between his cigarette and the allure of the water. Rylie's presence made the choice even more challenging. Ultimately, he left the cigarette on a rock, removing his robe and stripping down to his boxers before taking the chilly plunge.

Rylie moved further into the lake, her cheeks coloring as she took him in. Goosebumps formed on her skin, not solely from the cold. "You know," she began, waiting for him to draw nearer, "whatever's been bothering you, I hope it turns out okay." Her voice held a teasing lilt as she playfully splashed water his way.

It was rare for Evan to swim with company, even rarer with someone he found so captivating. He moved closer, distracted by her words and splash, and soon retaliated with a splash of his own. The cool embrace of the water began to feel more comfortable with each stroke.

Her laughter echoed across the water as she pursued him, suddenly feeling lively. However, Evan had other plans. Sneakily swimming behind her, he caught her off guard, pulling her into a brief underwater embrace. The playful move was short-lived, and he surfaced, rubbing water from his eyes.

Breaking the water's surface with a gasp, Rylie feigned indignation. "That wasn't very gentlemanly of you." A playful thought crossed her mind: ‘Why am I even engaging in this flirtation with a Slytherin?’ Pushing the notion aside, she continued to bask in the refreshing water.

Evan approached, his teasing grin betraying a flirtatious intent. "Well, I am a Slytherin. Being a bit wicked is in the job description, isn't it?" he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

Rylie's blush deepened as he drew closer. Their interaction felt like a sweet escape from reality, and she found herself inexplicably drawn to him. Their eyes met, the world around them blurring. "I'm not surprised," she murmured, her voice soft.

Their faces hovered tantalizingly close, the air thick with unspoken words and possibilities. Evan's playful demeanor shifted, replaced by uncertainty. He pulled away, the moment slipping through their fingers. "Don’t forget it," he teased lightly, his voice distant.

For a brief moment, Rylie had imagined their lips meeting. The weight of reality and potential consequences held her back. She chuckled softly at his retreating figure, "Believe me, I won't forget."

In her mind, the alarm bells were raging. She was falling for him and she felt like there wasn’t anything she could do to stop it.

~*~

The next night, Rylie shifted nervously under the invisibility cloak outside the Slytherin common room. She had sent an owl earlier that day and he agreed on meeting her. Yesterday’s encounter though was flooding her thoughts. She looked down at her watch and then back to the door. She knew James was patrolling tonight, so she just hoped that he didn't find her, cause she knew if he found her with Evan, he'd be upset. She knew she could probably get away with the school project as a way to get out of any form of suspicion, but it could be a stretch.

A small smirk touched her lips when she heard the door to the Slytherin common room open. She quietly stepped up to him and as soon as she was right behind him, yelled “Boo!”

Evan let out a small cry of surprise and spun around, furrowing his brows as he tried to figure out where she was. “Very funny, where are you?” he asked as he moved his hands out in front of him. 

Rylie's eyes widened as she moved back and smirked, slipping the cloak off her. “Damn, Rosier, you're no fun..” she pouted.

 “I am fun, you just haven't had a chance to see it yet.” he said. He then looked down to the cloak, his eyes widening a bit as he looked back up to her. “So that's your plan?” he asked as he reached down and felt the silky fiber of the cloak. “And how in the world did you get your hands on one of these?” he asked. “And will we both fit?”

“It's Potter's. He's letting me borrow it, but we gotta be careful cause if he finds out that I'm smuggling you as well, he won't be a happy camper, and I don't think it should be a problem. Besides, it's a precautionary measure, just in case we have to make a quick escape.” she said as she raised the cloak and draped it around the both of them. 

“Isn't Potter head boy? Won't he be able to get us out of trouble?”

“I don't know, I think he's mad at me about something.. besides, if he catches me with you, he'd get upset. He thinks I'm just using this for me.”

Evan gave a small nod, frowning a bit at her explanation. “A bit cozy, isn't it?” Evan asked as he slipped an arm around her shoulders, seeing as it was the only way to get somewhat comfortable, which in turn caused Rylie to blush.

“Just a bit..” she said softly. “Sorry about the tight quarters.” 

Evan flashed Rylie a smirk, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Never apologize. Being in tight quarters with a pretty girl doesn't bother me in the slightest," he quipped, with a hint of charm in his voice. As they walked, presumably heading to the potions closet since it was closest, he cast her a sidelong glance, "Did you remember to bring the list of potions we need?"

Rylie's face transitioned from a subtle pink to a flaming red upon hearing his words. Trying to brush off the sudden surge of emotions, she quirked a brow at him. "Complimenting me? Are you feeling okay?" she asked, playfully pressing her hand against his forehead to feign checking for a fever. Retracting her hand quickly, she felt an unexpected tingle. "Yes, the list," she murmured, patting her back pocket with a grin. "Got it right here."

His smirk deepened, a rare hint of vulnerability showing in the form of fleeting butterflies. As they reached the potion's closet door, Evan drew out his wand, muttering a quick spell. The door clicked open. "Age before beauty," he said cheekily, stepping in first and shedding his cloak as he went.

Following closely behind, Rylie took out the parchment from her jeans and slipped off her cloak, tucking it under her arm. She began to read out some of the ingredients from the list, her voice echoing softly in the closet as she started her search.

Noticing her determination, Evan moved closer, peeking over her shoulder at the list before deciding to help by searching on the opposite side of the closet. Given the typical disorder of the room, finding items could often turn into a treasure hunt.

However, Rylie soon faced an obstacle. The ingredient she needed sat on an annoyingly high shelf. Without a ladder in sight, she took matters into her own hands, stepping onto a lower shelf to boost herself up.

Evan, spotting her mid-climb, rushed over in panic. "What do you think you're doing?" he exclaimed, quickly grabbing her under her arms and pulling her down safely. Once on the ground, he looked at her sternly. "You could've broken a shelf and alerted someone! What do you need?"

She puffed up in frustration, her pride slightly bruised. "I was reaching for Erumpent parts," she snapped back. When he set her down, her voice raised a notch in defiance, "I wasn't going to knock anything over, okay? I've done this plenty of times before." She crossed her arms and leaned against a shelf, watching him reach effortlessly for the very ingredient she'd been after.

Evan, with a playful smirk on his lips, retorted, “I’d rather not get us both caught. Besides…” He easily retrieved a bottle from the shelf, flashing its label at her. “Erumpent parts. I can simply get it faster.” Handing her the bottle, he retreated to his side of the closet. Evan found it hard to resist flirting with her, even though part of him felt it was probably unwise.

“Excuse me, Rosier, but this isn't my first rodeo,” Rylie remarked, a twinge of annoyance in her voice. She briskly took the bottle from him, slipping it into her bag, and murmured about him being an ‘annoyingly tall git’. Refocusing, she went down her list, swiftly collecting a few more needed ingredients. “I think I've got everything. You ready?"

“I'm set,” Evan affirmed, offering her two more vials. As she accepted them, their fingers brushed momentarily. “Back under the cloak, then,” he proposed, holding it open invitingly. With a sly grin, he teased, “Joining me?”

“Off to the grand library, I guess,” Rylie responded, raising an eyebrow at his mischievous expression. As she ducked beneath the cloak, she brushed against his side, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks.

Ensuring they both fit, Evan wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. He cautiously peered out from the closet, ensuring the coast was clear before they ventured out. With their faces in close proximity, he whispered near her ear, “Let’s make this quick; I’m exhausted.” 

If Rylie’s face wasn't flushed before, it certainly was now, resembling the scarlet of her quidditch robes. As they exited the closet, her eyes darted around nervously. His whispered words sent a chill down her spine, but she managed to grin cheekily, “Tired? Oh, come on.” Spontaneously, she looped her arm around his waist as they began their journey to the library. “We should use one of the shortcuts. James is monitoring the hall near the library,” she whispered back, glancing behind her.

As she held onto him, Evan quipped, “Trying to get me alone, are you?” With faux apprehension, he added, “Does this shortcut have spiders, bats, or mice? Not that I’m scared or anything…”

Rylie laughed, glancing up at him with a teasing sparkle in her eyes. “Maybe I am,” she admitted, hinting at the growing attraction she felt for him. Pushing away fleeting thoughts about her friendships being jeopardized, she led him to the shortcut. “Afraid of tiny mice and spiders?” she ribbed, finding his mild unease endearing.

Evan's smirk deepened, acknowledging the charged atmosphere between them. However, as she playfully mocked his fear, he defended, "I'm not scared, just... prefer they don’t touch me."

With a playful swat to his stomach, Rylie teased, "It's fine. I'll defend you from those menacing mice.” When she opened the shortcut, revealing a pristine, critter-free passage, her triumphant grin betrayed her earlier mischief. “Ready?”

Spotting the clean passage, Evan feigned exasperation, "That was a low blow." Stepping into the passage, his smirk returned, "Seems you've got me all to yourself now," playfully hinting at the palpable tension between them as he ventured deeper into the passageway.

“Guess so. Lucky me.” She said, biting her lip as her nerves began to flair up. She couldn't even believe she was even toying with the idea of flirting with a Slytherin. She looked over to him and noticed that they had both stopped walking.

“Lucky you?” he asked. “You mean lucky me..” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. He found himself helplessly drawn towards her, the overpowering urge to diminish the space separating them growing stronger. Yet, a whisper of restraint in his subconscious held him back. 

Rylie's eyes widened a bit when he leaned in closer and she felt her breath hitch. They were just mere inches apart and all they needed was that one little push. She tried so hard not to burst from all the pressure and before she knew it, she closed her eyes and leaned forward, pressing her lips to his. So many thoughts were bursting through her head. This was utter lunacy, complete recklessness, yet she found herself indifferent. Sensations raced through her as their lips melded together. The hand she had resting on his waist ascended to his chest, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly. The line had been crossed; she had ventured into a forbidden territory that neither Rylie nor Evan could even begin to comprehend. 

Evan wished this moment could stretch into infinity, basking in its intimacy. Yet, a tremor of nerves struck him, prompting him to gently break the kiss after a lingering moment. He remained mere centimeters from her, their eyes meeting in a profound gaze. A small, sincere smile graced his lips.

Now, Rylie had kissed boys before, but it was nothing like this. Whatever it was ignited something inside of her. It was new and different, and scary as hell.  “Um..” Rylie whispered as she took a step back, becoming flustered as she ran her hands through her hair. She bit her lip and looked up to Evan who had a look in his eyes that nearly bore into her soul. “You do know we're playing with fire here, right?” she whispered.

Evan smiled softly, surprised by her words and also shocked she didn’t turn and run away. He slowly stepped up to her and placed a hand on the side of her cheek. “What kind of Slytherin would I be if I wasn't playing with fire?” he whispered as he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers again. When he pulled back, Rylie could tell from the faint light that he was blushing. 

“This needs to be kept a secret.” she whispered softly, feeling suddenly guilty as the words left her lips.

“Is it because of your friends?” Evan asked as he slowly pulled back to look down at her, a frown touching his lips.

Rylie frowned when he pulled away, the feeling of guilt bubbling in her gut as she looked down to the ground. It was as if the butterflies that were ignited in her stomach suddenly dropped dead at his statement. “Evan.. It's just..” she whispered as she looked up to him, her eyes pleading with him. “I don't want this to be kept a secret, I don't, but if they find out...” she whispered, her voice fading. She felt stupid and idiotic for saying it and she mentally kicked herself, knowing that she just ruined something that could have been amazing.

Evan paused, studying her face intently for a few silent moments before distancing himself from her. He knew she was right. If this was something they were to pursue, they would have to keep a low profile. He hesitated momentarily, then draped an arm around her shoulders. "Let's head to the library," he murmured, aiming to avoid dwelling on the tension between them. He gently kissed her forehead, as if to assuage any lingering doubts, even if he himself harbored some. "Remember, I'm tired," he whispered.

Rylie's heart thudded painfully in her chest as he retreated. She wrestled with the urge to bolt, overwhelmed with regret. Yet his comforting gesture—his arm around her, the soft press of his lips—only intensified the gnawing guilt within her. She realized she'd wounded him; it was evident in his gaze. Her guilt hung heavily in the silence, punctuated only by her subdued nod in response to his reminders.

The palpable weight of her remorse unsettled Evan. This budding connection between them had only just begun to blossom; he didn't want it to wither so soon. He gave her shoulder a gentle shake, offering her a feeble smile. "Keep your chin up, kid," he murmured as they strolled. He worried that his own ill-timed admission might invite a bout of his notorious Slytherin mood swings, and he didn't wish that on anyone.

Rylie heaved a sigh in response to his nudge. How could she possibly cheer up after jeopardizing the most exciting and complex relationship she'd ever encountered? She mustered a half-hearted smile in his direction but quickly refocused ahead. As they neared the end of the passage, she hesitated, turning to face him. "I'm so sorry, I feel like such a git."

Evan's brow creased momentarily. Grasping the root of her distress, he straightened up, locking eyes with her. "If you think I'd abandon whatever this is between us and what it could turn into so easily, you're sorely mistaken," he declared, a touch of mischief in his gaze. "Trust me, it takes more than that to faze me."

She looked up, lips trembling, "Really?" The enormity of his understanding floored her. How could he want her, especially when she insisted on such secrecy, fearing for his safety? She stammered, "I..." Words eluded her. His acceptance was overwhelming.

Evan tilted his head with a half-smile. "Come on, give me some credit," he whispered, wrapping his arm around her once more as they resumed their journey. "I might be a Slytherin, but I'm not that heartless," he jested, smirking. Weariness crept into his eyes, hinting at imminent exhaustion.

Rylie's laughter was a mere whisper, and she tentatively looped her arm around his waist. "Okay, if you say so." Her smile, though faint, was genuine. Emerging from the passage, they found themselves near the library's entrance. She surveyed the corridor—thankfully deserted—and turned to Evan, concern etching her features. "You look ready to collapse. Maybe you should rest? I can retrieve the book later, if you'd like."

Evan shook his head, his voice low, "It's too late to turn back now," and sent her a playful wink. "I can find the energy for one book." Scanning the surroundings to quell his apprehensions, he added, "At least, I think I can. Otherwise, we'll have bigger fish to fry," his smirk teasing yet sincere.

Rylie's soft chuckle resonated in the dimly lit corridor as they approached the library doors. Gently pushing it open, she peeped inside to ensure they were unobserved. Satisfied, she ushered Evan in, closing the door quietly behind them. "Let's hope you don't doze off here," she teased with a light smile. "I'm not keen on explaining why I'm levitating your unconscious form back to the Slytherin common room." They approached the entrance to the restricted section, locked securely. With a swift motion, Rylie extracted her wand from her back pocket, murmuring 'Alohomora.' The lock clicked open. "They really should invest in better security," she quipped, returning her wand to its resting place.

Grinning, Evan nudged her gently as they ventured deeper into the library. "The forbidden allure," he whispered conspiratorially, eyes darting around. "Why even have a restricted section?" The question seemed more to himself than to Rylie.

Pushing open the door to the elusive section, Rylie smirked, "Perhaps it's bait for mischievous souls like ours." Retrieving a list from her pocket, she scanned it quickly before examining the shelf titles. "Let's hope our book hasn't been checked out," she jestingly remarked.

"If it has, it's probably by a Ravenclaw," Evan remarked with a playful frown. "I might have to have very strong words with every Claw I encounter if that's the case." But his search proved fruitful. Pointing upward, he plucked a dusty tome from the shelf. "Found it," he announced, waving away the floating dust particles.

Rylie chuckled, "Hey, one of my best friends is a Claw." As Evan secured the book, she coughed slightly from the dust and pondered aloud, "Do we borrow the book or just note down what we need?"

Evan shot her a mischievous look. "I didn't creep around under cover of night just for notes." With a flourish, he stowed the book in her bag. "We're definitely taking it." His gaze flicked around the room, ensuring their secrecy remained intact. "Ready to make our exit?" he asked, arching an eyebrow suggestively.

With a swift motion, Rylie cinched her bag shut. "Lead the way," she grinned, glancing at her watch. "We should move. James might be patrolling this area soon." Her jovial tone faded, replaced by a somber note. Memories of their earlier encounter clouded her mind, and she draped an arm around Evan's waist. "Let's hurry," she urged, her voice soft.

Evan tightened his hold on her, steering them towards the library's exit. "Got any shortcuts in mind?" he whispered. Gently pushing the door open, they stepped out into the hallway, a renewed sense of urgency driving them.

"Down the corridor," Rylie whispered back, leaning into Evan's embrace. "It leads directly to the Slytherin common room." Surveying the empty hallway, her nerves tingled. Under the cloak of invisibility, their escapades usually felt thrilling. But tonight, the stakes felt higher, and the thought of being discovered by James or Remus weighed heavily on her. Swiftly, they located the hidden entrance to the passageway, slipping inside without hesitation.

Evan exhaled slowly as they delved deeper into the tunnel. "You have an impressive knowledge of these shortcuts," he noted, offering her a weary smile. Despite the occasional rat or insect that skittered by, he found solace in the tunnel's dark embrace, the exhaustion of the night's adventure gradually seeping in.

Rylie nodded, her voice tinged with amusement, "They come in handy when you're late for class." Silence stretched between them as they navigated the winding passageway. Emerging at the other end, the entrance to the Slytherin common room beckoned them from a distance.

Evan gently tugged Rylie toward the entrance of his common room, reluctance clear in his movements. Halting before the entrance, he turned to face her, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. "Will I see you tomorrow?" he inquired in a hushed tone, his gaze locked intently with hers. A faint smile graced his lips as he whispered, "I'd miss seeing that lovely face of yours."

A blush colored Rylie's cheeks in response to his tender gesture. "Of course," she replied, lifting her eyes to meet his with a gentle smile. "Thank you, Evan, truly,  for everything." Words failed her, but the sentiment was genuine. Though their initial encounters had been fraught with tension, she was now deeply grateful for his presence in her life.

A rare, genuine smile illuminated Evan's features, a sight reserved for moments of heartfelt emotion. "Until tomorrow," he murmured, bending slightly to leave a delicate kiss on her lips. As they parted, he couldn't resist another playful peck.

Rylie's eyes fluttered shut as she reciprocated the kiss, savoring the moment. Pulling back slightly, her cheeks a warm hue, she hinted, "I know just the place for tomorrow." However, her playful smile vanished abruptly at the sound of approaching footsteps. Panic crept into her voice. "Someone's coming!" Being caught would be catastrophic.

Wasting no time, Evan leaned in for one last swift kiss before deftly activating a concealed lever and hastily murmuring a password. The entrance to the common room gave way, and with a final glance over his shoulder—where Rylie's form was no longer visible—he dashed inside. As the entrance sealed behind him and the footsteps grew more pronounced, he darted up to his dormitory, confident in his escape.

Rylie quickly adjusted the cloak and began to move away from the common room, but stopped when she heard James' voice yell “Stop!” She froze in her spot, her hands flying to her mouth to quiet her breathing as she pressed herself up against the wall. The last thing she needed was to be caught outside the Slytherin common room by her best friend. Before she knew it, the guilt of kissing Evan washed over her. She bit her lip, trying to hold her breath, but her heart was pounding so hard that she seriously thought it would give it away. 

She watched as James stepped closer and closer. She closed her eyes and prayed he wouldn't find her, but sadly, the tip of her shoe was sticking out of the robe and James saw it. He sighed and reached out, grabbing the fabric and pulled it off, frowning when he saw Rylie. “What are you doing?” he asked as he held up the cloak.

Rylie's eyes widened and she forced a small smile on her face when James found her. “Hey! James! What's up?” she asked, trying to act as casual as possible, but knew that James could see through it. He always saw through her. It was infuriating really.

James sighed and shook his head and frowned as he looked to the Slytherin common room and then back to Rylie. “Why are you down here?” he asked as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Oh.. I had to grab some ingredients for a potion I'm making for class and also had to sneak into the library to grab this.” She said as she pulled out the book she and Evan recently nabbed. She hoped this would suffice, but she could tell by the look in James' eyes that he wasn't buying it. But after a minute he shook his head and gave up. There really was no use arguing with her.

“You know, you're going to get yourself as well as me in trouble one of these days if you keep this up..” he muttered.

Rylie chuckled. “C'mon, lemme patrol with you. I've got the cloak, and I promise I won't make a noise.” She threw the cloak over her head to demonstrate her point and raised her arms. “Ta da! I'm invisible!” She said, even though at the moment her shoes were in plain sight.

James looked down to her feet and then back up to the spot where Rylie was standing. “Not tonight, now get back to the common room before you get us caught.” he said, reaching out and pulling the cloak off of her and then grabbed her by the shoulders and gently pushed her a bit in the direction of their common room. 

“Fine fine fine.. wouldn't wanna get Mr. Goody Two Shoes Potter in trouble, now would I?” Rylie muttered, feeling slightly rejected. She bit her lip, tempted to ask him if everything was okay but thought against it and forced a small smile on her face. “You sure you don't want company?” she asked.

James watched her for a second, unsure of how he should answer the question. On one hand he did want the company, but he knew deep down that she was hiding something from him and he didn't know how he felt about it, and he wasn't sure he wanted to be around her at that moment. “No, I don't think so. McGonagall has been cracking down on me about our late night adventures around the castle and I really don't want us to get into trouble, including you.” he said, pointing a finger at her. “Especially since you're so close to getting kicked off the team.” he said, hoping that his words would sink in and make her want to go back. He knew Quidditch was practically her life and that she would be lost without it. 

Rylie frowned and took in James' words and sighed, knowing he was right. She gave a small nod and sighed. “Fine, I'll see you tomorrow.” She said as she threw the cloak over her head. “I'll leave the cloak on your bed.” She said, her voice tinged with disappointment and frustration before she walked off.

James watched her walk away and once she was gone, he let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the map he, Remus, Sirius and Peter had been working on. He opened it and watched a pair of black feet move across the map with Rylie’s name hovering right above. He waited until he knew she was in their common room and sighed, whispering “Mischief Managed..”. He folded the map and shoved it back in his back pocket as the pain of knowing she was lying twisted in his stomach. 

“So she was sneaking around with him..” a voice said, breaking James out of his thoughts. He turned and saw Remus who just walked up behind him. 

James flicked his gaze toward the stone wall concealing the Slytherin common room before returning it to Remus. “How much do you know about the Rosier family?” His voice was imbued with an uneasy blend of fear and anger, a testament to the gravity of the situation at hand.

Exhaling softly, Remus moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with his friend, signaling that they should start walking. "Not much really," he admitted, "but I’ve heard his parents could be Voldemort sympathizers."

James's whisper barely stirred the air around them. "That’s what I was afraid of..." His thoughts were consumed by Rylie. He knew she had no option but to work with Evan for their school project, but this secretive behavior? It reeked of danger, and it was evident she was concealing something. The flush on her cheeks when he'd confronted her was a telltale sign - something had definitely occurred. He could only hope against hope that it was nothing serious. “They were in the tunnel for a while..” he said.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions, James. We know she has to work with him for Slughorn’s group project. She’s working on a wolf’s bane potion…” his words trailed and he took a breath. This caused James to pause. “Listen, it’s a difficult potion and we both know she’s doing it to help me. I have enough for the year thanks to Dumbledore, but you know how Rylie likes to have back up and the book she needed was in the restricted section.”

James shook his head. “She could have just asked Slughorn for permission.”  

“And where’s the fun in that?” Remus said with a smile. He gave his friend a small nudge in the arm with his elbow and started their walk up the stairs to Gryffindor tower. James spoke the password and the two stepped inside. “Listen..” Remus said, reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder, making James pause just inside the portrait, “Please don’t let this get away from you and for the love of Merlin, please don’t get Sirius worked up over this. Just let this play out.” They walked into the common room and James did a quick once over to ensure they were alone as Remus continued to talk. “We’ll keep an eye on her from a distance. When she’s ready to talk, she’ll talk. You know this. We press her, she’ll close up.”

James hated to admit it, but his friend was right. “Why do you have to be the level headed one in this group?” James playfully teased as he made his way over to the stairs.

“Because someone has to keep you guys from going insane.” Remus chuckled. 

“Funny, since you’re the one that goes insane once a month.” James joked. 

Remus rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Maybe that’s why I’m the most sane one the rest of the time.” he muttered as he gently pushed James towards the stairs. “Let’s go.. I’m exhausted.”

“Yeah yeah yeah..” James complied and walked up the stairs.

Once the door to the boy’s dorm closed, Rylie slid out from under the cloak from her seat on the sofa, her emotions a mixture of anger and fear. She knew her friends were only looking out for her and it wasn’t fair to be mad at them for it. She stood from the sofa, quickly brushing a tear from her cheek and quietly made her way up to her room.

Chapter Text

Green-tinged light filtered through the submerged windows of the Slytherin common room, creating dancing shadows on the stone walls. It was a sight Evan Rosier had grown accustomed to over the years, a sanctuary of sorts. Yet, as he sat back in his armchair, the usually calming backdrop of the Black Lake felt intrusive, as if the dark waters were trying to probe into his deepest secrets.

Lost in thought, Evan twirled the silver pendant around his neck. Three days. Three days since the library escapade with Rylie, the memory still danced on the edge of his consciousness, teasing and tantalizing.

"You seem miles away," Darius remarked, taking the seat opposite Evan. "Let me guess, that Potions class project with that Gryffindor, what’s her name? Kipping? Or are you just enamored by the novelty of a Gryffindor partner?"

Evan's lips curled into a smirk. "It's always refreshing to dabble in the unknown, isn't it?"

Darius chuckled. "Ah, playing with fire, are we? It's not like you to be so… captivated by a project. Or maybe it's just the allure of a half-blood Gryffindor? A flavor of the month, perhaps?"

Evan gave a nonchalant shrug, all too aware of the implications of a pureblood Slytherin getting too involved with a half-blood from another house. "Just passing the time and enjoying the game. Gryffindors are so easy to ruffle."

Darius grinned, leaning back in his chair. "Just be careful not to get burned in your little games, Rosier. You know as well as I do how these things can get out of hand."

Evan met Darius's gaze, his own eyes flashing a mix of challenge and mischief. "Since when have I ever been careless?"

Darius chuckled, a hint of mockery lacing his laughter. "Oh, plenty of times. Remember fourth year? That potion mishap? Or perhaps the dueling club incident last term? Face it, Rosier, you've got a penchant for getting into... tricky situations."

Evan frowned, a bit irritated at having his past blunders brought up, especially when he felt they weren’t entirely his fault. "Those were minor setbacks. Nothing I couldn't handle."

Darius raised an eyebrow, leaning in. "Just remember, messing around with Gryffindors, especially half-bloods? That's an entirely different game. And you know how our house feels about those 'minor indiscretions'. They can quickly become... major scandals."

Evan's jaw tightened. While he was reluctant to admit it, Darius had a point. Relations between Slytherins and Gryffindors had always been tense. The house politics, the unwritten rules - they could be stifling.

"And let's not forget," Darius added, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "with the Dark Lord rising, and many of us considering joining his ranks, these kind of... distractions could be detrimental. Especially if you have aspirations among the Death Eaters."

Evan met Darius's gaze, the weight of the statement hanging heavily between them. "I understand the stakes," he replied curtly.

"Look," Darius continued, his tone softening slightly, sensing Evan's growing discomfort, "I'm just saying, tread carefully. Play your games, have your fun, but always keep your eyes on the endgame. The world is changing, Rosier. And we have to decide where we stand."

Evan leaned back, pondering Darius's words. There was wisdom in them, a reminder of the tightrope he walked. "I appreciate the counsel," Evan replied slowly, "but trust me, I know what I'm doing."

Darius smirked, standing up. "Famous last words, my friend." With that, he clapped Evan on the shoulder and walked away, leaving Evan immersed in his thoughts.

Evan remained seated, his eyes trailing Darius's retreating form but not truly seeing him. The weight of the conversation pressed down on him, the intensity of it leaving him feeling slightly winded. Thoughts swirled and collided in his head, each one bearing its own set of consequences and implications.

The Rosier name carried with it a certain level of prestige and expectation. It was a name deeply entrenched in the values of pure-blood supremacy. To even entertain the thought of pursuing a relationship with Rylie – a half-blood Gryffindor – felt like walking a treacherous path, one misstep away from disgrace. His family's standing, their influence, their ties to the Dark Lord and his cause – all of it could be jeopardized.

Yet, there was a magnetic pull towards Rylie, one that went beyond just a schoolyard crush. It wasn't just her charm or wit; it was the challenge she presented, the complexity of her character. She was unlike anyone he had ever met, a mystery he found himself compelled to unravel. And as much as he tried to dismiss it, to attribute it to mere teenage hormones or fleeting curiosity, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was something deeper, something more primal.

His heart raced as he recalled their stolen moments – the way she looked at him, the sound of her laughter, the intensity of their shared glances. But every sweet memory was tainted by the looming shadow of reality. The world they lived in was becoming increasingly divided, and aligning oneself with the wrong side could have catastrophic consequences.

There was also the issue of his family's legacy. The Rosiers had always been fervent supporters of the Dark Lord, believers in his vision for a world where pure-bloods reigned supreme. Joining the Death Eaters was almost an expected rite of passage for him, and turning his back on that destiny would not only put him in peril but could endanger his entire family. He thought back to the owl he had received a week or so back, his hand unconsciously gripping the fabric of the armrest.

Doubt crept in. Was this infatuation worth all the risks? Could he truly reconcile the desires of his heart with the demands of his heritage? Would he ultimately have to choose between love and loyalty? These were not questions Evan was accustomed to grappling with. He was a Rosier, known for their decisiveness and strength of conviction. But now, in this moment of introspection, he felt vulnerable and uncertain.

He sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. The path ahead was fraught with challenges, and he had to tread carefully. Whatever choices he made now would resonate far beyond the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. The world was indeed changing, and Evan Rosier found himself at a pivotal crossroads.

~*~

“Fuck fuck fuck fuckkkkkk!” Rylie exclaimed, her voice bouncing off the ancient stone walls as she sped through the corridor.

“STOP RIGHT THERE, MISSY!” a voice, unmistakably Filch’s, bellowed from behind her. His irregular footsteps and laborious breathing echoed through the hall, but they were gradually fading; she was outpacing him.

With a mischievous grin, Rylie took a swift turn, nearly barrelling into a group of wide-eyed first years. “Outta the way!” she shouted, not slowing down, her laughter trailing her. Bursting through a door, she dashed down the path leading to the Quidditch pitch. Once she reached the sanctuary of the Gryffindor locker room, she slumped onto a bench, gasping for breath, her heart pounding against her ribs.

James, already dressed in his practice uniform, approached with a smirk, handing her a water bottle. “Never thought I'd see the day you'd actually be on time,” he teased.

Taking a long sip, Rylie responded with a smirk, “Almost didn't make it, thanks to my little prank. Filch will have a lovely time trying to free his hand from that broomstick.”

James raised an eyebrow, chuckling, “What did you do?”

“Slathered some rather potent invisible glue onto the handle of his broom,” Rylie boasted, her eyes twinkling with pride. Given the weight of recent events, she desperately needed this boost of adrenaline and amusement.

James' grin widened. “You’re impossible,” he laughed, patting her knee affectionately. Hearing her cheerful tone after weeks of despondency — the fallout of her parents' separation — was refreshing. He missed her spirit. “Come on, troublemaker,” he nudged, “The team's waiting.”

Rylie nodded, quickly changing into her gear. Clutching her broom in one hand and her beater’s bat in the other, she followed James outside and met up with the rest of her team to practice.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting the Quidditch pitch in an amber hue as the Gryffindor team took to the air. The sound of broomsticks cutting through the wind harmonized with the shouts of players coordinating their movements.

Rylie deftly swung her bat, sending the Bludger careening toward one of the Slytherin beaters, who had joined the practice for a mixed scrimmage. The force of her hit sent a clear message: while she may have been grappling with personal matters off the pitch, here she was as formidable as ever.

James, circling above the main action, called out formations and strategies. "Alright, team! Remember, speed and coordination! Keep the Snitch's position in mind, but don’t lose sight of the Quaffle!"

As the team maneuvered around each other, Rylie caught sight of a lone figure in the stands. Her heart skipped a beat. Evan Rosier sat there, observing intently. Though it was uncommon for Evan, a Slytherin, to show interest in Gryffindor practices, he seemed completely engrossed. The two locked eyes for a split second — a shared secret passed between them — before Rylie broke contact, refocusing on the game.

The practice intensified. Passes became faster, hits harder, and dives sharper. Sirius made a stellar save, proving why he was one of the best Keepers Gryffindor had seen in years. Meanwhile, the Chasers executed a nearly flawless Porskoff Ploy, scoring another ten points.

After another rigorous drill, James called for a brief timeout. Rylie landed, her muscles aching and sweat dripping down her brow. She stole another glance towards the stands, but Evan was no longer there. A cold realization dawned on her — had he come solely to watch her?

"Hey," James' voice broke her train of thought. "You alright? You seem a bit distracted."

Rylie shrugged, attempting to play it cool. "Just tired," she lied.

James eyed her for a moment, clearly not buying her excuse, but chose not to press. "Take a break if you need to. We're wrapping up soon anyway."

Rylie nodded, her mind abuzz with thoughts of Evan. What was his game? Why was he there? She shook her head, determined to stay in the moment. She had a practice to finish, and personal drama wouldn't get in the way of her commitment to the team.

As the team regrouped, the Seekers were sent on a mock chase to test their endurance and agility. The Chasers took their position and started coordinating passes. James, always the tactician, called for a new play they had been working on, wanting to test it out before their next big match.

As the team soared and wove between one another, Rylie's focus returned fully to the game. She and the other Beater, Frank, communicated silently, defending their teammates and trying to control the Bludgers' erratic paths.

A loud whistle pierced the air, signaling the end of practice. The team descended, a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction evident on their faces. They had given it their all, and the improvements were clear to see.

"Great job out there, everyone!" James said, gathering the team around him. "We're getting better every day. Keep up the good work, and remember, we play not just for ourselves, but for Gryffindor!"

The team broke out in applause, a few patting each other on the back or sharing jokes about near misses or impressive plays. As Rylie landed and began to stow away her gear, a hand on her shoulder startled her. Turning, she found herself face to face with Sirius.

"Heard you had a visitor today," Sirius whispered, a knowing look in his eyes.

Rylie rolled her eyes, "I guess Evan just can't resist a good Quidditch match."

Sirius smirked, "Sure, because it's Quidditch he's interested in." he gave her a wink. “Fraternizing with the enemy?” he teased. He honestly hoped that wasn’t the case and it was strictly business when it came to their Potions project.

Rylie huffed, "It's nothing, Sirius.” She bit out a little too harshly. “Sorry..” she said softly. 

Before Sirius could press further, the team started heading towards the locker room, leaving the pitch behind. Rylie cast one last look towards the stands, the image of Evan watching her still fresh in her mind. Whatever his reasons for being there, it was clear that their paths were destined to cross again sooner rather than later.

~*~

The Great Hall reverberated with a myriad of voices, the evening’s conversations a buzz of overlapping topics and laughter. James, Sirius, and Remus were clustered together, lost in a serious discussion. Rylie's gaze slid over to Remus, seated just beside her. The pallor of his skin was noticeable, and his wearied eyes betrayed the upcoming strain of the full moon.

Without a word, Rylie reached over, offering a soothing rub to Remus's back. She wished she could do more to ease his looming pain.

“You guys don’t have to be there for me,” Remus murmured, cutting into his semi-rare steak, a piece of which he quickly popped into his mouth.

“You're daft if you think we're going to leave you alone in this,” James retorted, his voice filled with firm resolve.

Sirius leaned forward, ensuring their conversation remained private. With James leaning in as well, they created a little bubble of confidentiality. “We’ve managed to figure it out, Moony. It’s going to work, and we’ll ensure you’re safe.” His gray eyes sought out James for confirmation, and the latter nodded emphatically. 

Peter, on the periphery of the conversation, poked at his food with a reluctant, nervous energy. "I just don’t want to get squashed by that damned tree,” he grumbled, voice shaky.

Rylie, trying to stifle her incredulity, spoke into her cup as she drank, “Honestly, Pettigrew, sometimes I wonder how you even got into Gryffindor.”

His reaction was swift, a blend of annoyance and defensiveness. Yet, she felt neither guilt nor regret. Setting her cup down, she faced him squarely. “All you’ve got to do is touch that knot, right? Being tiny, I doubt the tree will even notice you.” She paused, an amusing thought occurring to her. “Can the tree even see?”

Sirius chuckled, his mirth evident. “I’d wager it can’t.”

Rylie gestured towards James and Sirius, “Anyway, these two will have the trickier part of the mission.” A sense of pride edged her voice. Their determination to become animagi, all to support Remus during his transformation, was nothing short of admirable.

“Alright, alright,” Peter finally conceded.

Remus, with gratitude shining in his eyes, nudged the last strawberry tart towards Peter. “Thanks, Pete. This means everything.” Peter, despite his earlier reservations, gave a weak smile, accepting the treat with a mumbled thanks.

Rylie shook her head as she looked up to get a look at the Slytherin table. She saw Evan chatting with one of his friends, Darius. He looked over and their eyes met. She saw him give her a small hint of a smile before he turned his attention back to the conversation at hand. She felt her cheeks get hot and she quickly grabbed her cup to hide the blush. She finished her drink and stood up. “I’ll see you four in the common room later.” 

Rylie bid her friends goodbye and walked out of the Great Hall and into the hallway. 

“I never realized how dangerous you were with a bat.” A voice said from behind her. She spun around and came face to face with the brown haired, blue eyed, Slytherin. “Remind me never to piss you off when you’re in gear.” 

“I thought you weren’t a fan of Quidditch?” Rylie asked as she shifted her weight from one foot to another, her body buzzing with nerves. 

“I never really had a reason to watch till now.” He said with a smile. He then saw her nervous shift and reached out, gently taking her hand, which she quickly removed. He couldn’t help but feel hurt at how quickly she pulled away, but he had to remind himself that they had to be careful. “C’mon, let’s go find a quiet place.”

“I know just the place.” Rylie said as she turned and began to lead him.

“Are bugs involved?” Evan asked wearily. 

Rylie chuckled as they began to climb a set of stairs. “No, you’re in the clear.”  

Evan was about to ask where the hell she was taking him till they stopped in front of a wall. Evan gave Rylie a suspicious look. “This is a wall..” he said. Had she lost it? He didn’t understand why she brought him here. He then started watching her pace back and forth. “Rylie.. What… are you-” his eyes widened when he saw a door appear in the wall. He slowly moved his hand to the handle and turned. He pushed the door open and he was floored. 

Inside was a small cozy room with a sofa and a fireplace and was softly lit with the warm light of candles. Rylie walked in and shut the door. “If you tell a single soul about The Room of Requirement, I’ll beat you harder than I beat those bludgers.” She said with a smile as she walked past him and over to what seemed like a closet. She opened it up and motioned her hands to a cauldron that was bubbling. “I figured it’d be easier to brew this in peace and we could use this place to study without prying eyes..” she said, blushing as she closed the closet door.  

Evan chuckled and sat down on the sofa, propping his feet up on the coffee table. He patted the seat next to him. “I will not tell a single soul. Promise.”

Rylie sat down next to him and tucked her feet under her. It was a weird, new feeling, to be sitting next to Evan like this. They haven’t kissed since their night run to the library. For a moment, she thought he was just playing with her, and she knew that was still possible. But there was something about him that she couldn’t shake. 

She felt her entire body grow hot as Evan reached over and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He drew her close to his side and he sighed, placing a soft kiss on her temple. “I’m sorry I wasn’t around much after our first kiss..” he whispered. “I’ve just been dealing with things.”

Rylie slid an arm around his waist, the feeling of just being next to him made all of her worries fall away. “You never told me what was wrong that day by the lake.” She whispered.

The expression on Evan’s face grew dark, but Rylie never saw. He quickly pushed it away and shook his head. Earlier that day he had gotten a letter from his parents, informing him that he was expected to join ranks and receive the dark mark. It wasn’t something he wanted to do, at least not anymore. He mulled in thought while he tried to think of a good excuse that wasn’t a ‘My parents are forcing me to get the Dark Mark.’

“Oh, just that I may need to do some extra work in Runes to pass the class. That’s all.” He said, hoping that would convince her.

She slowly pulled back and locked eyes with him. He felt his breath hitch. It felt like his soul was being strip searched. She furrowed her brows, as if she was concentrating. “Are…are you trying to read my mind?” Evan chuckled.

Rylie narrowed her eyes. “No, but I know a lie when I hear one.” she muttered.

Evan laughed and reached over, sliding a hand onto her cheek and guiding her to look back at him. He didn’t want her to delve further into this conversation topic, so he did the only thing he thought would work. He leaned down and kissed her.

Rylie gasped at the motion and any thought or question she had went straight out the window as she began to kiss him. Her heart raced, and her body vibrated with anticipation as she found herself leaning into Evan. Almost instinctively, she ended up straddling him, her face inches from his. With a boldness she didn't know she possessed, she teasingly brushed her tongue against his lips, igniting an electrifying spark between them.

Feeling her weight on him, Evan shifted slightly, leaning comfortably against the armrest of the couch. The surprising but welcome touch of her tongue sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. Without hesitation, he granted her the invitation she sought, his lips parting to meet hers. His fingers, seeking connection, entwined in the silky strands of her hair. There was a dangerous allure in the moment, making it hard to maintain restraint.

A soft, almost inaudible sound escaped Rylie's lips as their mouths explored each other. The intimacy of their connection felt both exhilarating and unfamiliar. Sure, she had experienced a kiss here and there, but none had left her so entranced. Many guys either viewed her as one of the lads or were too intimidated by her vivacious spirit. She softly pulled away, the warmth of her hand resting on his shoulder, eyes searching his, seeking some semblance of understanding in this whirlwind moment.

Catching his breath, Evan's face was adorned with a rosy hue. While he was no stranger to the world of romance, the intensity of this encounter was unparalleled. He took a moment, savoring the lingering sensation before opening his eyes to meet Rylie's gaze. A shy, almost mischievous smile played on his lips, his hands firm and reassuring against her.

Overwhelmed by the moment's raw emotion, Rylie brushed her fingers through his dark locks. Words eluded her as their chemistry commanded her full attention. Drawn back to him, she leaned down, sealing their lips together once more in a dance of sweet surrender.

The heat between them grew, and Evan found himself getting lost in her touch. His hand at her waist pulled her closer, while the other remained tangled in her hair. Although part of him yearned to get lost in the passion, he also knew he had to tread carefully, ensuring they didn't cross boundaries they weren't ready for. Yet, he couldn't resist playfully nipping at her lower lip, further stoking the fire.

Enthralled by the intensity of their passion, Rylie couldn't resist the temptation to explore further. Her lips continued their journey, trailing down his neck, while her fingers delicately traced patterns across his chest. The rational voice in her mind grew faint as desire took over, urging her to push boundaries. As she left a trail of tender marks, her path led back to his lips, where their embrace intensified with fervor.

Evan's breath hitched, his body responding to her every touch. He couldn't help but surrender to the pleasurable sensations coursing through him. Eager to grant her access, he tilted his neck, allowing her a better reach, a soft sigh escaping his lips. With a mix of curiosity and desire, he let his hand on her waist venture further, sliding beneath her shirt, his fingertips tracing a tantalizing path along her lower back, causing a delightful shiver to ripple across her skin. Their lips reunited once more, and he brought his other hand into play, gently gliding it from her hair down to the back of her neck, pulling her body closer to his, their connection growing even more intimate.

As their passion intensified, Rylie's racing thoughts briefly acknowledged the pace at which things were escalating. Yet, any doubts were immediately dismissed when his hand found its way to her neck, igniting a surge of desire within her. Giving in to the intoxicating connection, she deepened the kiss, molding her body against his with an urgency that defied reason. Taking a daring leap, her hand ventured down his chest, slipping under his shirt, her gentle touch tracing the contours of his side. His heated skin beneath her fingertips only fueled her desire, and a soft whimper escaped her throat, surrendering to the overwhelming sensations that clouded her judgment.

Evan's cheeks flushed a vibrant shade of red as her nails grazed along his side, sending a shiver of pleasure through him. Suppressing a groan, he fought against the urge to press his hips against hers, knowing that he needed to regain control. With great effort, he gently pulled back from the kiss, his breath coming in shallow gasps. His voice, huskier than usual, betrayed his desire as he spoke. "We should probably slow down," he managed to say, his words laced with restraint. He didn't want to halt their intimate moment, but he also recognized the importance of not rushing their relationship. He refused to risk pushing her away by moving too fast.

As their lips parted, Rylie's eyes fluttered open, a hint of confusion clouding her gaze as Evan's words echoed in her mind. A perplexed question danced within her thoughts: Why stop? Her rational side screamed for caution, urging her to retreat, while her irrational side tempted her to surrender to desire. Caught in the tug-of-war between reason and passion, she anxiously bit her lip, weighing the opposing forces within her. Whispers escaped her lips, barely audible, as she contemplated the warring voices of temptation and restraint. "What if... I don't want to?" she murmured, her words carrying a soft plea. Though she understood his reservations, the mere thought of denying herself the possibility of exploring their connection filled her with a torment that would linger whenever they crossed paths.

Evan's eyebrows shot up, a mix of surprise and longing etched across his face. He had been leaning in to kiss her once more when her words halted him in his tracks. With a sigh, he met her gaze, locking eyes with her, their unspoken desires hanging heavy in the air. "Because I don't want to be selfish," he confessed, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and sincerity. He grumbled, suppressing his own primal urges for a moment. "It's not that I don't want to... Believe me, I want to," he admitted, the weight of his desire evident in his tone. But he mustered the courage to be honest with her. "I'm just not sure if I…” He paused and sighed “If we’re ready," he explained, his words laced with vulnerability. He considered himself a gentleman, valuing their budding relationship too much to hastily risk its future. The potential cost outweighed the fleeting pleasure.

She gave a slight pout but complied, shifting from atop him to nestle beside him. Her head found a comfortable spot on his shoulder, and she snuggled close. "It's okay," she whispered softly, the sound barely more than the rustling of leaves. Though a part of her acknowledged that had he continued, she might have eagerly gone along, despite it being unfamiliar territory for her. Her fingers traced a path up to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart, and she pressed a tender kiss to his jawline. "I don't know if I'm ready either. I just got carried away," she confessed. Hesitating, she bit her lip, then murmured, "I've... I've never done it before." The admission made her heart race. While she wasn't entirely inexperienced, she was aware of the impact rushing into intimacy could have on their budding relationship. And she couldn't help but think Evan had more experience in this regard.

Evan's voice emerged as a barely audible murmur, a soft breath in the dimly lit room. "Seems we've discovered something else we have in common," he said, his words carrying a hint of vulnerability. His hand gently squeezed her shoulder, conveying a touch of reassurance. Surprising as it may be to many, Evan had never taken that final step in a physical relationship. Close calls and intense moments had come and gone, but the act itself remained elusive. Rylie's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and understanding washing over her as she instinctively pulled back slightly, her gaze locked onto his.

"Bullshit," she whispered, her disbelief evident in her tone. "I don't believe that. I've heard about your reputation."

A flush crept up Evan's cheeks, momentarily stealing his breath. "No, it's true, I’m one hundred percent virgin." he whispered, his voice laced with sincerity as he met her gaze. With a small smile, he continued, "I just don't want to push you away. We haven't even made it official yet. I haven't even asked you to be my girlfriend," he confessed, his words carrying a tinge of regret.

A small smile graced Rylie's lips as she processed his words. "So... is this you asking me?" she inquired, a hint of playfulness dancing in her eyes.

Leaning in closer, their lips almost touching, Evan brushed against hers as his hand gently caressed the side of her face. "Rylie Kipping," he whispered, his voice tender against her lips, "will you be my girlfriend?"

The concept of labels and titles hadn't crossed her mind before, and she pondered the idea, uncertain if she embraced it fully. Yet, as she lifted her head, locking her gaze with his, she couldn't deny the depth of her feelings. With a soft graze of her lips against his, she whispered, "You could never chase me away... Yes, I will be your girlfriend."

Evan resisted the urge to smile at her words. "Good, because I don't want to," he whispered back to her. He knew that every time they were together, it would be a constant battle of self-control for him. However, he cared for her enough to be respectful; after all, he was raised as a gentleman. He couldn't let his primal instincts take hold, no matter how strong the desire burned within him. As she brushed her lips against his, he responded with a tender kiss, determined not to let things escalate as they had before.

"Good.. cause I think we'd have some issues if you did." A small smile tugged on the corner of her lips as her fingers softly combed through his hair. The urge to, well, jump him was flat out overwhelming. She settled back against his side, her lips gently brushing against his neck. "You're mean.. you do know that, right?" she murmured against the skin of his neck near his ear. She knew he was resisting, and she knew she should be resisting as well, but unfortunately, she lacked self control.

A shiver ran through Evan's body when he felt her lips tracing along his neck.  A mischievous smirk played on his lips. "I'm not the one being mean right now," he remarked, referring to her lips exploring his neck. "You're doing everything in your power to make me lose control, aren't you?" he stated, more as an observation. "And that's mean," Evan pouted playfully at her.

Rylie snickered and continued her tantalizing journey along his neck, pausing at the sensitive crook to deliver a gentle nip. "Maaaybe..." she whispered, her lips trailing up to his ear, where she nibbled on his lobe. "I know it's mean... but it's also incredibly fun," she smiled softly to herself, intensifying her assault on his ear. Her hand, resting above his heart, curled in, clutching his shirt, while one of her legs gracefully wound around his.

"Merlin..." Evan breathed, his cheeks flushing as her leg wrapped around him. He was undeniably aroused now. He had been before, but now it had become slightly embarrassing. He shifted slightly, attempting to accommodate the discomfort that had blossomed in his pants, in more ways than one.

Rylie persisted in her torment on his neck, then gradually guided her lips up to his. The kiss was far from sweet; it was a display of her unbridled desire, a testament to how much he drove her wild. She pressed herself against his side, her leg brushing against the area between his legs, while the hand that rested on his chest ventured southward, slipping beneath his shirt and coming to rest on his abdomen. She knew she was treading dangerous waters, but the intoxication of pleasure consumed her, overpowering any concerns.

Evan gazed up at her, his tousled hair partially obscuring his face, his breath becoming shallow as his body responded eagerly to her presence. A mixture of a husky sigh and a groan escaped his lips when she subtly pressed her hips against him. "Rylie.." he whispered, his inner desires conflicted between hoping she would continue and hoping she wouldn't.

Rylie whispered, "I don’t know if I want to stop.." she confessed, noting the way she was driving him to the brink, a mischievous smile lingering on her lips. She shifted her hips once more, releasing a soft whimper. Her hand, deftly unbuttoning his shirt, now caressed his face, gently sweeping aside his hair to meet his gaze. Gradually, her hand trailed down to his exposed chest, her fingertips gliding delicately over his abdominal muscles. She studied him intently, her teeth biting down on her lip.

Evan looked up at her, his eyes clouded with desire, mirroring the fading clarity of his judgment. The ache for her was so overpowering that his body trembled with anticipation. He groaned as she continued to move her hips against him, the realization that they were separated by mere layers of clothing nearly overwhelming him. When her hand descended along his stomach, he reciprocated by placing his hand on her hip once again. He pulled her closer, leaning his head back against the couch, and let out a satisfied sigh. It seemed he had surrendered his self-control entirely.

Rylie's skin tingled with delight as his hand found its way back to her hip. A contented smirk graced her lips as she leaned down, capturing his lips with her own. She lightly nibbled on his bottom lip, while her hand that had been on his stomach now moved upward, joined by her other hand. Together, they seized his shirt, resuming their quest to remove it. Rylie knew what she wanted, and she wasn't afraid to pursue it, even as a small voice in the back of her mind screamed at her to stop.

Evan's passionate response to the kiss shattered his self-control. All sense of propriety was discarded, replaced by overwhelming desire. He groaned into her lips as her leg pressed against him, unable to resist pushing his hips towards her, desperate for any form of contact. His instincts took over, overpowering poor little Evan's better judgment.

A soft moan escaped Rylie's lips as she felt his hips pressing against her, eroding the last remnants of her self-control. She knew this was a dangerous path to tread, aware of the trouble it could bring, yet she found herself straddling him once again, her hips pressing down fervently against his, while their lips worked fervently together.

Evan's mind was consumed by the pleasure coursing through him. His thoughts were clouded, his actions driven purely by instinct. As she straddled him, one hand moved to her hip while the other tangled in her hair. The hand on her hip guided her hips downwards as he pushed his own hips upwards, groaning into the kiss. He momentarily pulled back, trailing his lips down her neck.

"Evan," she whimpered, arching her neck to grant him better access. Her body burned with desire, trembling from the exhilaration coursing through her. 

Evan gently grazed his teeth over her skin, leaving a tender kiss in its wake. Secretly, he hoped it would leave a mark, though he didn't want to cause her trouble. Unable to resist, he pulled her hips closer once more, groaning against her neck as his breath quickened. As she tugged on his shirt, he leaned back slightly to assist her. In that moment, reality crashed back, grounding him. He swiftly removed his hand from her hip, grasping the hand that was pulling at his shirt. "We're losing control," he huskily whispered, sinking back into the couch beneath him.

Rylie couldn't resist the urge to whimper as she tightened her grip around him. "Maybe I want to lose control," she admitted. She was relieved that he wasn't taking advantage of her vulnerability, even though a part of her wouldn't have minded. Nevertheless, it reassured her that he genuinely cared about their situation, or perhaps he simply didn't want to get involved with a Gryffindor. She swiftly pushed aside the bitter thought, biting her lip. The idea of being his girlfriend had never crossed her mind before. In fact, she wasn't even sure if she liked the concept of labels. Regardless, she lifted her head and locked eyes with him, her voice barely above a whisper. "You can't scare me away," she declared, tilting her head down to gently brush her lips against his.

Evan fought back a smile at her remark. "Good, because I don't want to," he whispered back, resisting the overwhelming temptation. Being with her always tested his self-control, but he respected her enough to be mindful of their boundaries. After all, he had been raised as a gentleman. He couldn't allow his instincts to take over, no matter how strong the desire. As she brushed her lips against his, he reciprocated with a tender kiss, careful not to let things escalate like they had in the past.

A shiver ran down Evan's spine as her lips began their assault along his neck. "You’re making this very difficult.." he whispered, raising an eyebrow and meeting her gaze. A mischievous smirk played on his lips. "And that's not fair," he added, pouting playfully.

Rylie snickered and continued trailing her lips along his neck, pausing at the sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulder, gently nipping the skin. "Maybe..." she whispered, dragging her lips up to his ear and nibbling on his lobe. "I know it's mean, but it's also fun," she admitted, a soft smile playing on her lips as she persistently teased his ear. Her hand, resting above his heart, curled in, gripping his shirt, while one of her legs snaked over his.

"Merlin..." Evan whispered, his face flushing as her leg entwined with his. He was undeniably aroused now. He had been before, but the current situation was becoming slightly embarrassing. He shifted, attempting to adjust to the discomfort caused by the undeniable physical response. Rylie continued tormenting his neck, slowly guiding her lips back up to meet his. The kiss was anything but innocent; she poured all her desire into it, illustrating just how much she drove him crazy. He pressed her against his side, the leg she had wrapped around his coming up to gently brush against the sensitive area between his legs. Meanwhile, her hand on his chest ventured downward, slipping under his shirt and resting against his abdomen. They were treading into dangerous waters, but the intoxication of pleasure clouded Rylie's judgment.

Evan returned the passionate kiss, surrendering to his desires. His gentlemanly demeanor crumbled, replaced by raw desire. He groaned into her lips as her leg pressed against him. He couldn't resist responding, pressing his hips into hers, seeking contact again. He lost control to his instincts, disregarding the consequences, much to his own dismay. When she straddled him once more, her hips grinding against his, and her lips fervently exploring his, he couldn't help but give in.

Evan's gaze lifted to meet hers, his eyes clouded with desire and impaired judgment. The intensity of his longing for her caused him to tremble uncontrollably. A deep groan escaped his lips as she pressed her hips against his, sending a surge of electricity through his body. It felt as if their connection was merely hindered by a thin barrier of clothing. Reacting to her touch, he instinctively returned his hand to her hip. Pulling her closer to him, he leaned back against the couch, releasing a contented sigh. It was evident that self-control was not his strong suit.

Rylie's skin tingled with anticipation as Evan's hand found its way back to her hip. A satisfied smirk graced her lips as she leaned down, capturing his mouth with hers. She playfully nibbled on his bottom lip, while her hand, previously resting on his stomach, boldly ventured upward, joined by its counterpart. Their hands found his shirt, gripping it firmly as they began to push his shirt off his shoulders once more. Rylie knew exactly what she wanted, and she refused to let that nagging voice in the back of her mind deter her, even if it screamed at her incessantly.

This time, Evan made no attempt to halt her advances. He had become completely captivated by the movement of her hips against his own. With his hand still firmly planted on her hip, he guided her in a rhythmic dance. Sensing her desire to remove his shirt, he effortlessly aided her, momentarily pausing to assist in the seamless removal of the garment. As the fabric slipped away, his hand instinctively returned to her hip, pulling them closer, intensifying the magnetic connection between them.

Rylie's breath hitched as his shirt cascaded to the floor, revealing his stunning physique. Her fingers danced delicately across the contours of his chest, savoring every curve and crevice. A low groan escaped her lips as their hips melded together, the thin fabric between them a frustrating barrier. Leaning down, her lips brushed tantalizingly over his upper chest, her breath quivering with anticipation. Tracing a path up to his neck, her hands ventured downwards to the belt of his pants, pausing momentarily as their hips continued their rhythmic dance.

As their bodies intertwined, Evan's breath grew heavier, syncing with the rhythm of their passionate dance. A delightful shiver coursed through him when her lips brushed against his chest, leaving him with a contented sigh as they parted. His hands, guided by desire, traced an upward path along her shirt, tentatively gripping the fabric at its hem and ascending with deliberate anticipation. Adjusting his posture, he sat up slightly, his gaze fixed upon her, captivating as ever, as he gradually peeled the shirt upwards.

Responding to his movement, Rylie sat up, her arms mirroring his in perfect synchrony, swiftly discarding her own shirt, relinquishing it to the floor where it joined his. A hint of anticipation tinted her expression as she bit her lip, locking eyes with him, their connection unyielding. With practiced finesse, her hands instinctively moved behind her back, unclasping the black silk bra, which gracefully slipped from her shoulders, finding its place on the ground. A delicate blush adorned her cheeks, a subtle shield against his intense gaze, causing her to bring her arms up to her chest, as if instinctively guarding herself, yet longing for his all-encompassing attention.

Overwhelmed by desire, Evan acted on instinct, sitting up as much as he could and gently maneuvering them until Rylie was reclined against the couch. Tilting his head down, he tenderly kissed her, his lips then venturing along her jawline and back to her ear. Nipping at her earlobe, he sensually traced his lips down her neck, pausing at her collarbone. Moving his hands to hers, he gently guided her arms back, allowing him to pull back and admire her. When he pulled away and glanced down, his mouth went dry, his face flushing crimson. Leaning down, his lips aligned with her ear, he whispered, "You're gorgeous."

Rylie arched an eyebrow as he sat up, and as she realized his intention, she willingly laid back on the sofa, resting her head against the pillow that was against the armrest. Closing her eyes, she surrendered to the scorching trail left by his lips, emitting a soft moan as her hips instinctively rose to meet his. When his hands reached her arms, she hesitated briefly, but eventually relented, allowing him to move them aside. Placing one hand on his shoulder, the other snaking down his chest towards his pants, she whispered, "No, I'm not... You're the stunning one." Turning her head, she captured his lips in a passionate kiss.

A soft groan escaped Evan's lips as her hips pressed against his, and he instinctively pushed back, his body trembling with pleasure. "You only say that because you can't see yourself," he murmured against her lips. Sliding his tongue between her lips, he explored her mouth with a fervent hunger. Rocking his hips against hers once more, he groaned deeply, yearning for more than just the sensation of his tongue. Bringing his hand up, he gently massaged one of her breasts, feeling his pants grow even tighter as his hand encountered her velvety skin.

Rylie's cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and desire as Evan's comment lingered in the air. Her moans mingled with their passionate kiss, intensifying as his hand found its way to one of her breasts. Overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through her, she couldn't contain the madness of her longing for him. Their hips ground together, magnifying the intoxicating effect, as his urgency only fueled her craving. Deepening the kiss, she eagerly explored his mouth, her tongue entwining with his, while her trembling hands finally found the resolve to loosen his belt, swiftly unzipping his pants and pushing them down.

Evan reciprocated the fervent kiss with equal passion, his free hand sliding down to her hips, pulling them closer in a desperate embrace. As she started pushing his pants down, he momentarily broke the kiss, readjusting himself and discarding his pants with a satisfying thud against the floor. Relieved to be free from the constriction, he refocused his attention on her, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips when he felt himself pressing against her leg. Leaning down, he captured her lips once more, his hands working eagerly at the button and zipper of her own pants.

Rylie fervently returned the kiss, her lips moving with an urgency born from desire. The sensation of him pressed against her leg elicited a whimper of pleasure, compelling her to arch her hips against him, desperate for closer contact. The need for their pants to be removed intensified, threatening to overwhelm her. With a sense of urgency, her trembling hands joined forces with his, swiftly unbuttoning her pants and guiding them down her hips, along with her panties, in one swift motion.

Evan withdrew from the kiss as Rylie began to remove her pants, lending a helping hand to expedite the process, swiftly discarding them aside. The anticipation had become unbearable; his hands hastily pushed down his boxers, eager to shed any remaining barriers. As his gaze met hers, his arousal only heightened, prompting a gulp of anticipation. Leaning back down, he captured her lips in a hungry kiss.

With Rylie's assistance, she sat up, her growl of frustration mingling with their desire as her shoes momentarily interfered. Finally, conquering the obstacle, she settled back against the sofa, her eyes widening at the sight of Evan discarding his boxers. The gravity of the situation suddenly hit her, freezing her in place. Tremors ran through her body as he resumed kissing her, her arms finding solace around his shoulders. The intensity of her longing clashed with her fears, threatening to overwhelm her. She fought to silence the anxiety, attempting to relax her trembling form. Gradually breaking the kiss, she gazed up into his eyes, her breath ragged and uneven. Softly, she whispered, her voice filled with both vulnerability and determination, "I want this..." In that moment, amidst her fears and clouded thoughts, this simple truth shone through, clear and undeniable.

Evan's nerves mirrored Rylie's own, and a tinge of apprehension crept into his voice as she pulled back. He whispered softly, his gaze locked with hers, "Are you absolutely sure?" Concern etched his features as he continued, "We can still stop, it's never too late..." He wanted to be the epitome of a gentleman, ready to honor her wishes, yet he couldn't deny the slight fluster that would accompany her withdrawal, especially after she had initiated the moment twice before.

Rylie's gaze held his, her heart pounding in her chest as uncertainty gnawed at her. Was she truly certain? Did she genuinely want to proceed? She bit her lip, contemplating her own desires and his well-being. In a hushed voice, filled with vulnerability, she whispered, "I'm sure, but only if you're sure too..." The last thing she wanted was to coerce him into something he wasn't wholeheartedly ready for. Her lip remained caught between her teeth as she anxiously awaited his response, her eyes fixed intently on him.

Evan's gaze held hers, a fleeting pause revealing the flicker of nerves behind his eyes, despite his attempt at a mischievous smirk. "Believe me," he said, his tone a delicate balance of playful assurance and genuine sincerity, "I wouldn't be here, naked, if I wasn't sure..." His words carried the weight of their shared trust, assuring her that their connection was built on mutual consent and their experience would be free from regrets. Still, an undercurrent of anxiety lingered within him. What if he fell short of her expectations? What if he couldn't bring her the pleasure she deserved?

Sensing his vulnerability, her own cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she became determined to ease Evan's anxiety. In a tender gesture, she leaned up, her lips gently meeting his, a soft kiss that conveyed not only her desire but also her own nervousness. Their eyes locked in a tender exchange, and she whispered, her voice filled with vulnerability, "I'm nervous too..." Her lips trembled slightly as she settled back against the sofa, inhaling deeply to steady herself. Embracing him with her arms, she guided him closer, their lips finding each other in a lingering, tender embrace.

In a rare display of vulnerability, Evan allowed his guard to drop, nodding slightly in response. Lowering himself once again, he gingerly kissed her, his face flushing bright red. His trembling hands traced a path down to her legs, gently parting them and positioning himself between them. Pausing for a brief moment, he pulled back, his voice barely above a whisper, "Are you sure?" The weight of his question hung in the air, for he knew that if she said no, he might just crumble under the weight of his own desires.

Rylie's entire body shuddered as his hand spread her legs apart, her face turning a fiery shade of red. Nerves consumed her, nearly overwhelming her pounding heart. Unable to find her voice, she nodded, her grip tightening around his shoulders. There was no turning back now. They had reached the precipice, and it was a moment of now or never.

Evan's nod was accompanied by a gulp, his gaze momentarily dropping before finding hers once again. A moment of hesitation passed before he slowly began to enter her. His eyes squeezed shut, a low groan escaping his lips as his head tilted down, finding solace on her shoulder. Pausing once he had gone far enough, he allowed her time to adjust to the new sensation. He didn't want to hurt her, even if the waiting threatened to unravel his own self-control.

Rylie's eyes widened, a sharp gasp escaping her lips as the pain tore through her. "Oh gods!" Gripping his shoulders tightly, she buried her face in his shoulder, tears threatening the corners of her eyes. The pain surpassed anything she had imagined as he breached her barrier. A whimper escaped her, but gradually, as moments passed, she began to acclimate to his presence. Her breaths came out slow and shallow, the pain transforming into a foreign yet exhilarating sensation she had never experienced before.

"I'm sorry," Evan whispered, his voice laced with remorse as he acknowledged her discomfort. He couldn't fully grasp the depth of her experience, lost as he was in his own euphoria. However, he remained patient, unwilling to push her beyond her limits. Sensing a slight relaxation in her body, he cautiously pushed further, pausing to ensure she was still okay before proceeding.

Rylie shook her head, a small, reassuring smile gracing her lips. "I'm okay..." she whispered. Adjusting her hips beneath him for added comfort, a surge of pleasure shot through her. She bit her lip, arching her back as she began to slowly move her hips against his, exploring the newfound sensations that coursed through her body.

Evan's pleasurable groan resonated through the room as he leaned his forehead against her shoulder, unable to contain his ecstasy. "Merlin, Ry," he whispered against her soft skin, his hips moving in sync with hers. His lips trailed along her shoulder, igniting a trail of sensations, while his hands ventured down to her legs, their touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Rylie's grip tightened on his shoulders, a small moan escaping her lips, her senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. However, when he called her "Ry," a name reserved for her closest friends, a jolt of surprise coursed through her. Yet, the sensation of his fingertips gliding across her skin quickly consumed her thoughts, erasing any lingering doubts. As her hand found its way to the side of his face, she gently turned his head to meet her gaze, her eyes filled with a mixture of desire and vulnerability. Without hesitation, she leaned in, their lips melding together, her tongue venturing into his mouth, eager to explore.

For a fleeting moment, Evan's mind flickered with concern, but it was instantly replaced by the instinctive urge to intensify their connection. He knew it was time to pick up the pace, and as he did, the surge of pleasure intensified. A low groan escaped his lips, merging with the passionate exchange of their tongues. Aware that he wouldn't be able to hold back for long, he surrendered himself to the moment, cherishing the fact that it was his first time, and any imperfections were simply part of the journey.

Rylie's world seemed to unravel as Evan's pace quickened, sensations spiraling out of control. Breaking the kiss, she threw her head back, a cry of pleasure escaping her lips, her grip on his shoulders tightening. Her legs encircled his waist, urging him deeper, each movement driving waves of ecstasy through her body. "Evan!" she moaned, her breath growing ragged as her hips moved in harmony with his, desperately seeking release.

The sound of her moaning his name was almost too much for Evan to bear. His body trembled uncontrollably as he continued to move with intensity. When she wrapped her legs around him, drawing him deeper into her, he let out a loud groan, his fingers clinging to the arm of the couch behind her head. A few moments later, he succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure, moaning loudly as he pushed into her until they both reached their climax. He didn't want to cut their pleasure short, reveling in the sensations that painted the world in a breathtaking array of stars.

It took all of Rylie's willpower to resist the urge to succumb to her climax too quickly. Each thrust from Evan brought her closer to the edge until she could no longer hold back. Her entire body quivered as her release crashed over her in powerful waves. Eyes widening, her focus blurred as she arched her back against him, her moans echoing through the room. "Evan! Gods damn it!" she screamed, her legs tightening around him, riding out the ecstasy of this new experience.

Evan groaned loudly, his grip on the arm of the couch tightening as he shivered and trembled, overwhelmed by the sensation of her muscles gripping him. Another wave of pleasure coursed through him as he climaxed, his head leaning against her shoulder as he struggled to catch his breath. "Fuck," he gasped, his eyes squeezed shut for a moment before finally opening.

She held onto him tightly, providing support as he navigated the intensity of his climax. As her own pleasure subsided, she whimpered and shuddered, lying still and silent, attempting to steady her breathing. After a few moments, her awareness returned, and she gently tightened her grip around his shoulders, peppering his forehead with tender kisses. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude and affection.

Evan's hair was sticking to his forehead, and he was a little embarrassed at how sweaty he'd gotten. However, at the moment, that was one of the last things on his mind. He tried his best not to collapse completely against her but to the side of her. He didn't want to crush her... Especially not after that. He gently pulled out of her and adjusted himself beside her. When she thanked him, he looked up at her, his breathing still ragged and fast. He let a hand run down her face, pushing some hair behind her ear. He leaned over a little, his lips meeting hers in a very soft kiss. “I should be thanking you..” he whispered. 

Rylie closed her eyes, a small smile touching her lips as he moved off to the side of her. She softly returned the kiss and looked into his eyes. "You okay?" she whispered as she moved some of his hair away from his forehead. Her entire body was still tingling from the effects of her orgasm. She couldn't even begin to comprehend the feelings that coursed through her. On one hand, she was in complete bliss and on cloud nine, on the other, she was almost in panic mode. She had basically just slept with the enemy. If her friends found out what she had done..she quickly rubbed her eyes with her free hand to hide the few tears that leaked through. This needed to be hidden, but how long could this last?

"Wonderful," Evan whispered, his eyes almost sparkling as he looked at her. He was forcing his body not to tremble, not wanting to feel like a wind-up toy. He had never felt so good physically in his entire life, and he secretly believed that he'd never felt so good emotionally either. Maybe he was just being a hopeless romantic, but he hoped that she would open up to her friends about him. He wished he could shout it from the rooftops that he'd found her, but that just wasn't possible. Could he handle that?

Rylie gave him a smile, but it slowly faded from her lips. She draped an arm above her head and sighed. "This isn't going to be easy," she whispered, trying to keep the trembling out of her voice but sadly failing. Her emotional bottle started to crack, and she was trying everything in her power to keep it glued together.

Evan stared at her for a moment, then sighed. He wrapped an arm around her. "I'm not the one making that decision," he said quietly but seriously. If it was up to him, it wouldn't be a secret. She was the one who wanted to sneak around her friends. It wasn't his place to tell her what to do, though, and he wasn't about to overstep his boundaries. That just wasn't him.

She sighed and looked at him, resting an arm over his. "I don't want this to be a secret... but..." She bit her lip and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, Evan..." She knew she was hurting him by wanting to keep this a secret. It wasn't fair to him, it wasn't fair to them. But Evan was safe as long as her friends didn't know.

Evan shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he offered her a gentle smile. "Let's not talk about it right now," he said quietly. He knew it was probably too late, but he didn't want the moment to be ruined just because he got his feelings hurt or they got into it.

Rylie managed to give him a small smile and nod. She didn't blame him for not wanting to talk about it... the moment they just shared was too precious to mess up. She leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips as she gently placed a hand on the side of his face. She slowly pulled back and chuckled softly. "So you don't feel dirty about sleeping with a Gryffindor, eh?" she chuckled. She couldn't help but poke a little fun, even though it was her normal defense mechanism. 

Evan gave a small grin and chuckled, leaning back into his arm on the couch. "It wouldn't be half as fun if it wasn't dirty," he said, a smirk spreading across his face. He leaned over and kissed the side of her neck just twice, then went back to his original position, his arm wrapping a little tighter around her. He could have laid here with her forever like this if she would have let him. School and eating would have been problems, though.

Rylie chuckled and gently smacked his side. "That's a good point," she said with a smile. Her eyes drifted closed when he kissed her neck, sending shivers down her spine. She snuggled closer to him and planted a small kiss on his lips. She never wanted this moment to end, but she knew she'd have to get up soon and make her way back to the common room before anybody got suspicious. "I have to go soon," she murmured, her voice tinged with regret. "But I wish I could stay here with you forever."

Evan made a small nod, but remained in his position, not making any move to get up. "Your friends are probably wondering where you are," he said casually, his voice tinged with a hint of concern. He stretched his body slightly, holding onto her a little tighter, cherishing their closeness. "If you manage to slip away, I'll reluctantly let you go," he whispered, a playful tone in his voice. He would never hold her against her will, but he understood the importance of her obligations. After all, he had his own curfew to abide by as well.

"I told them I had to meet my partner for my Potions project and that I would be running late, so technically, I'm not lying," she chuckled, her arms enveloping him as she grinned, reveling in his embrace. "I don't want you to let me go," she whispered, her head finding a comfortable spot on his chest, finding solace in the rhythmic beats of his heart. With closed eyes, she allowed the steady pulse to soothe her.

Evan's grin widened, happiness radiating through his being as he savored her words. He continued to lay there for a few more minutes, his eyes closed, relishing the simple joy of being with her, wrapped in each other's warmth. However, the nearing curfew reminded him of their impending departure. They had to leave soon, considering they didn't have the Invisibility Cloak, and he didn't want to risk getting into trouble. "We might need to get up now," he said, a note of sadness creeping into his voice, signaling the end of their idyllic moment.

Rylie sighed, her voice filled with a mixture of reluctance and playful protest. "Why do you have to drag me back down to reality?" she muttered, slowly pushing herself up into a sitting position, her auburn hair cascading messily around her shoulders. She gazed down at Evan and offered him a small smile. "So I take it we can't go for round two then?" she chuckled, aware that time was not on their side. His longer walk back and the risk of getting caught weighed on her mind, and she didn't want to see him get into trouble.

Evan's eyebrows shot up in surprise as she mentioned a second round. "Love, I don't think I have anything left in me after that," he replied, glancing downwards with a smirk. He looked back up at her and sat up, leaning forward to brush some hair out of her eyes, his touch gentle. He placed a tender kiss on her lips before pulling back, his smile bittersweet. "Come on, let's make sure you get back on time," he whispered sweetly.

She pouted and sighed, her disappointment evident. "Fine... If you say so," she conceded, kissing him back briefly and nodding in agreement. Slowly, she rose from the sofa, her legs still slightly wobbly from their intimate encounter. She gathered her clothes from the floor and started to dress herself, the mirror on the wall catching her attention. As she straightened her hair, her eyes caught sight of a tiny mark near the nape of her neck. "Leaving marks, Evan?" she said, chuckling softly, finding a hint of amusement in the love bite. She made sure her shirt covered it, thinking it wasn't too noticeable in the first place. Secretly, she didn't mind—it was a reminder of their passionate connection. 

Evan gathered his clothes, feeling a newfound confidence as he dressed himself. He slipped on his boxers and pants, grinning in response to her comment. "You gave me one too," he said, pointing towards his neck and smirking. He then pulled on his shirt, stretching his body lazily as he settled back down on the couch.

Rylie raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his statement. She moved closer, plopping down on the sofa beside him. "Really?" she asked, leaning forward and pulling down his shirt to inspect the mark. "Oh wow, I did... Oops. Sorry..." A hint of a blush colored her cheeks as she bit her lip, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

Evan's smirk widened as he met her gaze. "I have a small feeling you're not sorry," he replied playfully. After a brief moment of sitting there, he stretched once again and stood up. Extending his hand towards her, he grinned mischievously. "Shall we, my lady?" he asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

"You're right, I'm not sorry," she responded matter-of-factly, taking his hand and standing up. The weight of the remaining minutes of curfew weighed on their minds. "Guess so... We have about 20 minutes left until curfew," she sighed, squeezing his hand tightly as they walked towards the door. Neither of them wanted to step back into reality, yearning to prolong their stolen moments for as long as possible.

Evan sighed as he pushed the door open, stepping out into the hallway with Rylie by his side. The weight of reality settled upon them, dampening the lingering euphoria of their stolen moments. "Back to reality, I guess," he murmured, his voice tinged with a touch of resignation. He led her in the direction of the Gryffindor tower, their footsteps echoing in the corridor.

Rylie nodded, her gaze filled with a mixture of longing and determination as she paused just before one of the main halls. Without hesitation, she pulled him into a small alcove, seeking solace in the brief sanctuary it provided. Their lips met in a deep and passionate kiss, a desperate attempt to hold onto the fading fragments of their intimate connection. After a moment that felt both eternal and fleeting, she reluctantly pulled away, her voice tinged with regret. "We need to split up here, we can't risk it," she whispered, her eyes filled with a blend of love and apprehension.

He returned the kiss, the taste of her lingering on his lips, a bittersweet reminder of their shared moments. His mind wandered back to the warmth of the couch and the intimacy they had shared. When she finally pulled back, he gave a small nod, his expression a mix of longing and acceptance. "Alright, love... I'll see you tomorrow," he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of their unspoken desires. He leaned down once more, capturing her lips in a lingering kiss, savoring every precious second before reluctantly pulling back.

Rylie reciprocated the kiss, her heart aching at the thought of letting go. She held onto him, her fingers gently caressing his cheek as she tried to etch the moment into her memory. "Write to me when you're free... okay?" she pleaded, her voice filled with a mixture of longing and hope, desperate for a connection that transcended their physical separation.

Evan nodded, his eyes locked with hers, a silent promise passing between them. "I will, Rylie. I'll write to you every chance I get," he vowed, his voice filled with unwavering devotion. With a final brush of his thumb against her cheek, he reluctantly released her, his fingers lingering for a moment before he stepped back, their connection temporarily severed.

As they prepared to part ways, their hearts heavy with the weight of their forbidden love, they exchanged one last gaze, a silent understanding passing between them. With a deep breath, Rylie turned away, her footsteps carrying her down the hallway, each step a painful reminder of their clandestine affection. And as Evan watched her disappear from sight, he couldn't help but hold onto the hope that their love would endure, bridging the gap between them until they could freely be together.

~*~

Rylie Kipping stole into the Gryffindor Tower, her arrival tiptoeing on the edge of curfew. Her heartbeat drummed a frenzied tempo of exhilaration and uncertainty in her chest, her cheeks still flushed with the thrill of her recent intimate encounter. The common room, usually filled with laughter and camaraderie, was now winding down for the night, the remnants of the crackling fire painting the room with warm, embracing shadows.

On a worn-out armchair, Sirius Black idly flicked through a Quidditch magazine, the silence of the room interrupted only by the sporadic turning of pages. As Rylie's entrance caught his attention, his lips curled into a knowing grin. "Living on the edge, aren't we, Ry?" he drawled, his tone teasing yet laced with a hint of brotherly concern.

Rylie returned his grin, although the flush on her face deepened. She tossed herself onto a nearby armchair, affecting nonchalance. "Life's more fun on the wild side, Sirius," she quipped, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

But Sirius wasn't easily fooled. His eyes, sharp and probing, noticed the distinct hue of her flushed cheeks and the flustered glint in her eyes. As Rylie shrugged off her cloak, a rather conspicuous mark on her neck came into view, fueling his suspicions. "Well, Ry, your night seems to have been more interesting than most," he commented, his grin widening at her sudden discomfort.

Rylie instinctively brought her hand up to her neck, her blush intensifying. "Drop it, Sirius," she retorted, attempting to keep her voice steady despite her flustered state.

Ignoring her protest, Sirius leaned forward, his grin fading into a frown. "That wasn't Rosier's doing, was it?" he inquired, his usual playfulness replaced with an undeniable note of concern./

Rylie's silence only confirmed his suspicions. His frown deepened, the name 'Evan Rosier' conjuring images of a notorious Slytherin family rumored to have ties with the Death Eaters. "Ry, I don’t need to remind you he's a Slytherin, right? And his parents, they might be Death Eaters."

Rylie met Sirius's gaze, her playful demeanor now replaced by a flash of defensiveness. "I can handle myself, Sirius," she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for further discussion.

Without another word, she stood and briskly walked towards the dormitory, leaving Sirius behind, his playful smirk now a worried frown, his mind teeming with unsaid concerns.

Moments after Rylie departed, the portrait hole swung open once more. James Potter sauntered into the common room, his lopsided smile reflecting a contentment that a hard-earned victory over a mountain of homework could only bring. He noticed Sirius' furrowed brow, a rare sight that immediately piqued his interest. 

"Alright, Padfoot?" James asked, his eyebrows knitting together as he took a seat opposite his friend. 

Sirius' gaze shifted from the dwindling fire to James, his concern still etched plainly on his face. "It's Ry," he finally muttered, his voice strained. "I think she's been with Evan Rosier tonight."

James stilled, his brow furrowing at the mention of Evan. The unwelcome image of his fellow Gryffindor and friend, Rylie, being with a Slytherin, particularly one linked to the Death Eaters, did not sit well with him. His lips formed a tight line, his mind instantly awash with concern.

"What makes you think that?" James asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

Sirius sighed, "She just came in, barely making curfew, looking all flustered. Had a hickey on her neck too," he said, the last words spoken in a lower, almost pained tone. He ran a hand through his dark hair in frustration.

James felt a jolt of disquiet course through him. He tried to push the unsettling thoughts aside. "Well, Ry can take care of herself," he reasoned, although his voice lacked conviction.

Sirius nodded, clearly not convinced. "Yeah, but she's our friend, Prongs," he emphasized. "And Rosier... he's bad news."

James leaned back in his seat, staring into the dying embers of the fire. He knew Sirius was right. Rylie may be able to handle herself, but that didn't mean they couldn't worry about her, especially given Rosier's family reputation. 

"We'll keep an eye out," James finally said, his jaw set in determination. "For now, let's trust Ry. She’s smarter than we give her credit for."

With the matter temporarily settled, the pair lapsed into silence, their concern for Rylie lingering in the warm air of the common room. As the fire slowly faded into mere embers, both boys were lost in their thoughts, each praying in his own way for their friend's well-being.

After what felt like an eternity, Sirius finally broke the silence. His gaze was still fixed on the dying fire, the flickering embers reflecting in his gray eyes. "So, Prongs," he began, a mischievous glint suddenly replacing the concern. "When are you finally going to ask Lily out?"

James stiffened at the abrupt change in conversation, the corners of his lips twitching into a half-smile. "Don't you think we've got enough on our plate already, Padfoot?"

Sirius gave a nonchalant shrug, a wry smile gracing his features. "I've just noticed you two have been talking a lot more lately. And it’s about time, mate. It's our seventh year. When will you get another chance?"

James let out a sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. "It's not as simple as you make it out to be, Sirius. I don't want to mess things up, especially not now."

A thoughtful silence fell over them once again, the weight of their impending adulthood creeping up on them. Sirius finally leaned back, casting James a knowing look. "Sometimes, Prongs, you just need to take the leap. It might turn out better than you think."

James only nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. He would ponder on Sirius' words. After all, he had nothing to lose, and potentially, a lot to gain. Lily was worth that risk. But, at that moment, their worries about Rylie and their upcoming N.E.W.T.s took the front seat. But Sirius was right. When was he going to get another chance? With the growing war, he knew he’d have to take that leap and just ask her.

It had taken a while just for her to talk to him again, especially after the shit he and the other three pulled on Snivelus Snape. But that was in the past and when Snape had called Lily Mudblood, he knew whatever friendship she had with him was over. 

James pushed his glasses up his nose and stood. “I’m going to bed.” He said matter of factly. He walked over to Sirius and patted his shoulder. “Everything will be okay, Sirius.” James Said quietly.

Sirius nodded. “I hope so.”

James gave a small smile and left Sirius behind as he walked up to his dorm.

~*~

The Hogwarts Great Hall was humming with its usual early morning vitality as students trickled in for breakfast. Laughter echoed off the enchanted ceiling, the chatter a harmonious blend of voices discussing everything from the latest Quidditch scores to the trickiest potions homework. But amidst this typical morning symphony, in a corner of the Gryffindor table, Rylie was an island of silence.

Rylie, usually the heart of any conversation, sat in uncharacteristic stillness, her usually bright eyes clouded over with deep thought. Her fingers idly traced the edge of her goblet, the happenings of the previous night replaying in her mind like a well-worn film reel. The passionate escapade with Evan Rosier, a secret safely hidden behind the stone walls of the castle, was followed by an unusual confrontation with Sirius in the Gryffindor common room. Each memory, while drastically different in nature, carried a weight that bore heavily on her heart.

A soft touch on her arm pulled her out of her reverie. Lily Evans, her auburn hair glowing like a flame in the morning light, had sidled up next to her. Concern danced in Lily's emerald eyes, her lips pulled into a gentle frown. "You're awfully quiet this morning, Ry. Everything okay?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, just enough to cross the distance between them.

Rylie managed a weak smile, the unvoiced thoughts still echoing in her mind. She wasn’t ready to share her secret liaison with Evan or her clash with Sirius. Instead, she deftly deflected, “Just a lot on my mind, I guess. Speaking of minds,” she added, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she glanced over Lily’s shoulder, “How's the 'Potter situation' going, Lils?”

Despite the gravity of her thoughts, a playful smirk graced Rylie's face as she steered the conversation towards safer grounds. The 'Potter situation', as it was commonly referred to among their friend group, was Lily's own complicated entanglement with James Potter. For now, at least, it offered a much-needed distraction from Rylie's tangled thoughts. 

Lily chuckled, noting Rylie’s deflection, but chose to let it go and smiled. She moved a piece of hair behind her ear, her face tinged with red as she looked over to James who was deep in conversation with the other three boys about a Quidditch play he made the other year. “He actually pulled me aside this morning and said he wanted to talk to me later.

Rylie gave a gentle nudge to Lily's shoulder, her smile softening as she spoke. “You really should give him a chance, Lils. He really does love you.” Her heart ached faintly as the words left her lips, an echo of a not-so-distant past.

Lily returned the smile, nodding slightly. “I know,” she replied, though she couldn't help but detect the slight falter in Rylie's tone. The unspoken history between Rylie and James was known to her, a chapter of their lives that had once stirred a pang of envy in Lily. 

Suddenly, she was whisked back to their fourth year, the memory surfacing like a ghost from the past. Lily recalled walking into the dormitory one evening to find Rylie curled up on her bed, sobbing quietly in the dim light. The usually cheerful girl was shattered, the rawness of her tears a clear indication of a heart freshly broken.

It was the aftermath of Rylie's break-up with James. The details of their falling out had remained private, shared only in hushed whispers between the two involved. Yet, the effect it had on Rylie was something Lily could never forget. 

Rylie had been incredibly brave about it all. Even amidst her tears, she had managed to utter, "He loves you, Lily, more than he ever loved me." The words were whispered between shaky breaths, a painful admission that left a sting. "I was just a stand-in until he could have you. And that’s okay. You were always his first choice."

The memory hung heavy between them, an unspoken understanding in their shared silence. Now, looking at Rylie sitting across from her, with the troubles of a new dawn lurking in her eyes, Lily could only offer her a comforting smile. 

Their shared silence was finally broken by the arrival of breakfast, the Great Hall filling with the enticing smell of fresh pastries, sizzling sausages, and the clatter of dishes. Rylie quickly moved to fill her plate, her appetite momentarily overpowering the worries clouding her mind.

Lily watched her friend with a hint of concern, debating on how to approach the subject delicately. With a deep breath, she finally ventured, “Ry…is everything alright?” The question hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken worries.

Rylie found herself caught in the crisscross of indecision, her fingers nervously playing with the edge of her napkin. There was an intensity brewing in her gaze, an inner turmoil that immediately caught Lily's attention. She watched as Rylie put down her fork, her movement deliberate and slow.

With a sudden movement, Rylie flicked her wand. The murmur of their classmates abruptly dulled as a soundproof barrier surrounded them, severing their conversation from the hustle and bustle of the Great Hall. The drastic change in atmosphere caused Lily to raise a brow in question.

Rylie's next words, spoken softly yet fiercely, commanded Lily's undivided attention. "You have to promise me you won’t tell a single soul, especially the boys.” There was a clear urgency in her tone, a plea that Lily understood implicitly.

With wide eyes and a quick, understanding nod, Lily gave her friend the promise she sought. The bond of their friendship carried a certain trust that assured Rylie that her secret was safe with Lily.

Mustering up her courage, Rylie leaned in closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Evan and I... we're seeing each other.” The words hung heavy in the air, reverberating in the silence of their magical bubble.

Lily's eyes widened in pure shock, her green eyes growing larger in the dim light. The words seemed to echo in her mind, each syllable adding to the complexity of the situation. Her best friend and a Slytherin, it was a revelation that would take some time to fully sink in.

She took a moment to process the startling revelation, her gaze flitting between Rylie and the distant figure of Evan Rosier across the hall. "You and Evan Rosier?" she finally found her voice, the disbelief was evident in her tone. "But he's... well, he's a Slytherin, Ry. And his parents, there are rumors they could be..."

"Death Eaters, I know," Rylie cut her off gently, her expression somber. She had been fully aware of the weight of this information. "But there's more to him than his family, or the house he was sorted into, Lils."

Lily fell silent, the implication sinking in. Rylie was known for her excellent judgment, and if she saw something worth exploring in Evan, perhaps there was more to him than met the eye. But the risks...

"Why the secrecy, then?" Lily asked, her voice soft with concern. "Is it because of the boys?"

Rylie sighed, her eyes filled with a mix of apprehension and determination. "Yes, and no," she admitted. "James, Sirius, and Remus wouldn't understand, not yet. But also...there are risks, Lily. With his family, with the current tension... A Gryffindor and a Slytherin being together..." Her voice trailed off, the remaining words hanging heavily in the air between them.

Understanding dawned in Lily's emerald eyes, painting a clear picture of the difficult situation her friend was facing. She reached over the table, giving Rylie's hand a reassuring squeeze.

"We'll get through this, Ry," Lily promised, her voice brimming with conviction. "You're not alone in this."

A small, grateful smile found its way onto Rylie's face at Lily's words. She felt a bit of the tension in her chest unwind. "Thanks, Lils," she responded quietly. Lily had a way of shining a comforting light even in the darkest of times, and that, to Rylie, was priceless.

~*~

As Rylie and Lily entered the dimly lit Potions classroom, they found it bustling with students chatting and preparing for the day's task. Professor Slughorn was engaged in a discussion with a group of students while the rest settled into their usual partners and groups.

Among them, Evan was already seated, deeply engrossed in a parchment, his brows furrowed in concentration. His usually easy demeanor was replaced with a focused sternness that kept others at a distance. 

Rylie's heart fluttered with a mix of nervousness and excitement as she made her way to her shared table with Evan. She felt Lily's comforting squeeze on her arm before they parted ways, Lily joining James.

Sitting down next to Evan, she felt a rush of ease. He glanced at her, and there was a subtle, private smile that danced in his eyes before he returned his focus back to the parchment.

They slipped into their work with a familiarity that felt both surreal and natural. Their whispers and shared glances did not go unnoticed, particularly by James, Sirius, and Remus. The trio watched, exchanging silent observations and concerns.

Just as Rylie and Evan were nearing the completion of their potion, Michael Avery, a Slytherin known for his crude humor, sauntered up to their table. Leaning in, he smirked at Evan, whispering a snide remark meant only for the two of them, "Slumming it a bit, aren't we Rosier? Trying out a half-breed for fun?"

Rylie felt the words like a punch in her gut, her blood turning cold. Evan stiffened next to her, his quill ceasing its scratching. He looked at Avery, his face unreadable, but his eyes betraying a hint of disgust. "Yes, it's quite an experience, Avery," he managed to say, his voice holding a neutrality that Rylie could tell was forced.

Rylie sat there, frozen in her spot next to Evan, as Michael Avery's cruel comment echoed in her ears. His words were hurtful, meant to tear down her confidence and tarnish her image. It was honestly something she was used to; however, it was Evan's response that hurt her the most. It echoed louder in her mind than Michael's derogatory comment. His agreement, even though she knew - or at least hoped - that he didn't mean it, was like a punch to the gut.

A heavy, uncomfortable silence descended on the pair, and Rylie suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to leave. A sick feeling churned in her stomach, threatening to bubble up and out if she stayed any longer. She felt a sudden tightness in her chest as she thought of the implications of Evan's words, and her hand involuntarily clutched her heart.

She quickly gathered her belongings, not bothering to glance at Evan. She needed to get out of there, to breathe, to think. The tension in the room was stifling, making it difficult for her to focus on anything else. Her heartbeat was loud in her ears, drowning out the muffled whispers and the sound of her name being called out in concern.

With a quick jerk, she slung her bag over her shoulder, her hands trembling slightly. She avoided looking at anyone, kept her gaze trained on the door of the classroom. With a last glance at Evan, she took a deep breath, lifted her chin, and exited the classroom. As the heavy wooden door closed behind her, she could hear the buzz of confused whispers start up, but she didn't care. Right now, all she wanted was to escape from the uncomfortable scrutiny and the bitter sting of Evan's agreement.

As Evan struggled to push down the swelling tide of regret and guilt, a forceful hand clamped down on his shoulder, jolting him from his inner turmoil. Turning, he found himself looking up at James Potter, his normally friendly face twisted into a stern frown. Behind him, Sirius and Remus echoed his displeasure, their arms crossed over their chests.

Evan's gaze snapped up to meet James', the cool indifference on his face giving nothing away. 

"What happened, Rosier?" James's question rang out coldly. Sirius and Remus stood close behind him, their crossed arms matching the accusatory tone.

"Just a disagreement," Evan responded, his voice casual. He lifted a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug, but his clenched fists belied his attempt at a nonchalant demeanor. "Nothing for you lot to get worked up over."

Sirius snorted, disbelief etched onto his face. "A disagreement that had Rylie running out the room? Don't play us for fools, Rosier."

Evan turned his frosty gaze onto Sirius. He merely raised an eyebrow, as if bored by the interaction. Sirius clenched his fists tighter, his anger clear.

"We're just trying to understand," Remus intervened, attempting to diffuse the growing tension. "Rylie is our friend."

With a sharp exhale, Evan pushed back his chair and rose, his towering figure casting a shadow over the table. “Like I said,” he reiterated, his voice strained, “just a disagreement.”

Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode towards the door, leaving behind a ripple of bewilderment. And even though he had walked away, Lily could still see it - the clenching of his fists, the flash of turmoil in his eyes. He was more than just an impenetrable facade. And whatever the disagreement was, it had affected him, perhaps more than he was willing to admit.

~*~

Rylie had barely made it out of the classroom when the tears started to fall. The hurtful words Michael had said, the agreement Evan seemed to show - it all mingled together in a painful mess inside her chest. She took a breath and dipped in one of the windowed alcoves, away from prying eyes.

As she settled onto the cold stone ledge of one of the tower's windows, she couldn't help but replay the scene in her head. The look on Evan's face as Michael sneered at his comment, the way Evan's gaze had flickered to her, full of... something she couldn't decipher. Was it regret? Guilt? It was gone so quickly that she wasn't even sure if she'd imagined it.

She closed her eyes, pressing her hand to her heart as if to quell the rising pain. She'd known from the start that being with Evan would be complicated. She'd known about his family, the looming cloud of suspicion that hung over them. But none of it had deterred her, because she saw something in Evan that was worth fighting for. He was more than his family's potential affiliations. More than a Slytherin with a bad reputation.

But the agreement he seemed to show to Michael's vile comment, even if it was a front, was a bitter pill to swallow. It struck at the very heart of their relationship, made her question if Evan was truly different from his prejudiced peers. Was she just fooling herself?

Evan's brisk steps echoed down the dimly lit corridor, his heart pounding in sync with his hurried pace. He knew he needed to find Rylie, to talk to her, to explain. But he also knew he had royally messed up, his false agreement with Michael's disparaging comment had hurt her, and it wasn't something a simple apology could mend.

He found her sitting on one of the castle's many window ledges, her gaze lost in the sweeping view of the Hogwarts grounds. He slowed as he approached her, his adrenaline waning and being replaced by a gnawing apprehension.

"Ry…" he began, his voice hoarse, but she didn't turn to look at him. He swallowed, his throat dry as he racked his brain for the right words to say. He wanted to tell her that his agreement with Michael was a ruse, a way to fit into the twisted narrative his housemate believed in. But he also knew that just telling her wouldn't make it right.

"Rylie," he tried again, the desperate plea in his voice matching the regret in his eyes. But she remained silent, her gaze still fixed on the vastness beyond the window.

The silence between them was heavy, a tumultuous mix of unsaid words and unshed tears. Evan was acutely aware of the situation he had put Rylie in and the implications it held for them. But he also knew that he had to make it right, because leaving things as they were wasn't an option. Not when it involved Rylie, not when it was about them. The ball was in his court, and Evan knew it was up to him to rectify the mistake he'd made.

He hesitated for a moment before carefully moving to sit beside Rylie on the window ledge. He was met with silence, a silence that was almost deafening in its intensity. But he didn't let it deter him. Lost in her thoughts, she didn't even hear Evan approach. When he sat down beside her, she tensed, but didn't pull away.

"Ry, I..." he began, his voice wavering as he searched for the right words. "I need you to know, what I said back there... it wasn't true. Not a word of it."

She remained silent, her gaze still fixed on the Hogwarts grounds. The silence hung heavy in the air between them, and for a moment, Evan thought she wouldn't respond.

"I know." She finally whispered, her voice so soft that Evan almost missed it. "But it still hurt, Evan."

The words were like a punch to the gut. Evan knew he had messed up, knew that his lie had hurt Rylie, but hearing her say it out loud was a whole different ballgame. The weight of his actions came crashing down on him, guilt seeping into every crevice of his being.

"I... I didn't mean to..." he stammered, his voice thick with regret.

"But you did, Evan," she interjected quietly, finally turning to look at him. Her eyes were swimming with unshed tears, the hurt evident in her gaze. "You agreed with him, with that...that... horrible comment. You made me feel..."

She choked on her words, the hurt too overwhelming to put into words. The tears she had been holding back spilled over, trickling down her cheeks in silent testament of her pain.

"I'm...I'm sorry, Rylie," Evan whispered, reaching out to wipe her tears. His touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the harsh words that had been exchanged in the potions class.

He knew he had a lot to make up for, a lot of trust to regain. But if Rylie was willing to give him a chance, he was ready to do whatever it took to mend what was broken. Because for him, losing Rylie wasn't an option he was willing to consider. He had messed up, yes. But he was determined to make it right. No matter what it took.

His apology, his remorse - it was sincere, she knew. But that didn't take away the sting of his betrayal. It was going to take time. Time and effort on Evan's part. She just hoped he was up for the challenge.

"Promise me," she whispered, turning to look at him. "Promise me you'll never let something like this happen again."

The look in his eyes gave her hope. The regret she saw there, the determination, it gave her a glimmer of hope that maybe they could overcome this. That maybe they had a fighting chance. She had to believe they did. For her sake, and for Evan's.

Evan reached out and took her hand, giving it a small squeeze. “I promise you,” he whispered. He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her lips.

Rylie felt an electrical shock as his lips met hers. When he pulled away, she gave him a small smile. She quickly brought her hands to her cheeks to wipe the tears. “I didn’t realize it would be this hard. I know we have to play along, but.. that was rough..” she whispered.

Evan was about to lean in for another comforting kiss when hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor. They quickly pulled apart, but not before Sirius, James, Lily, and Remus rounded the corner.

"Ry!" Sirius called out, coming to a halt when he noticed Evan’s hand still holding Rylie’s. His eyes flashed with surprise and a hint of anger. "What’s going on here?"

Rylie took a deep breath. The day had been a rollercoaster of emotions, and she realized then that it wasn't fair to keep their friends in the dark. They were going to find out sooner or later. Squeezing Evan's hand gently, she met Sirius's gaze. "Evan and I... we're seeing each other," she admitted, her voice wavering.

A stunned silence fell upon the group. James was the first to break it. "You’re what?” he asked incredulously, his gaze bouncing between their joined hands and Evan's calm face. His step towards Evan was full of confrontation, the protective instinct for his friend sparking dangerously.

"And you thought it was okay to just sneak around? With her?" James' voice echoed sharply around the corridor, his usual jovial tone replaced with a biting edge. His gaze moved from Evan to Rylie, disappointment etched into his features. "And you, Rylie? You didn't think we deserved to know? You think it's okay to be with a Rosier, with everything his family stands for?"

Rylie, taken aback by James' harsh words, looked at him with wide, teary eyes. The hurt radiating off of her was palpable, making James falter momentarily. She pulled her hand from Evan's grasp and took a step towards James, a determined expression replacing her previous shock. 

"Are you suggesting that we're all destined to become our parents, James?" She countered, her voice shaky but firm. "Is that it? Because Sirius's family are Death Eaters too. Does he wear their sins? Or does he get a pass because he's our friend?" Her words pierced through the tension-filled silence, hanging heavy in the air. "Just because Evan's parents made the choices they did, doesn't mean he will. Can't you see him for who he is, rather than who his family is?" 

Her words were a shockwave through the group, causing James to stutter and Sirius to flinch. The raw honesty of her statement shocked them, forcing them to face their own bias.

Evan, who had been silently standing by Rylie's side during the confrontation, felt the sting of Rylie's words. He knew of the shadow his family's reputation cast, but had always strived to step out of it. A myriad of emotions swirled in his eyes, gratitude for Rylie’s defense mixed with concern for what her words could mean for their fragile peace with the others.

On the other hand, Sirius was stunned into silence. Rylie's rebuttal had hit him like a bludger straight to the chest, his usual confidence faltering. He looked away, running a hand through his hair, the universal sign of his inner turmoil.

"I--" He stuttered out, struggling to articulate his thoughts. He shot a glance at James who seemed equally taken aback. The usual banter and camaraderie was replaced by a thick tension, the only sound in the corridor was the distant murmur of other students shuffling to their next classes.

"Rylie..." Sirius finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper, "I didn't mean...we're just worried about you." The earnest look in his eyes was hard to ignore.

Rylie's words hung heavy in the air, creating a tension that seemed palpable. The silence was broken by James, who finally found his voice.

"Sirius isn't in Slytherin for a reason, Rylie," he spat, his anger evident in his words. His gaze was fixed on Evan, a cold hard stare that spoke volumes. "We all make our choices. Sirius chose to be different from his family. Evan chose to be in Slytherin."

Rylie's heart sank at James' words. She knew it was more complicated than that, but the situation wasn't helping to convince James otherwise. 

Evan, feeling the sting of James' words, squeezed Rylie's hand tightly. He remained silent, but the hurt was clear in his eyes.

This was the reality they were facing – a truth that was harsh and complicated. It was a stark reminder of the divisions that ran deep in their world, divisions that could fracture even the strongest of friendships. But despite it all, Rylie knew one thing for sure - she wasn't going to let go of Evan. Not without a fight.

The tension was near suffocating, all eyes focused on Sirius. The usually brash and confident Marauder looked out of sorts, torn between defending his friend and acknowledging the validity of James' words. His gaze flickered to Evan, who was silently taking the onslaught of criticism, then to Rylie, whose expression was a mix of hurt and defiance.

"James," Sirius finally started, his voice strained. He paused, struggling to choose his words. "You know as well as I do, it's not as black and white as you make it out to be. Being in Slytherin, being pureblood... it doesn't automatically make you evil."

The words hung in the air, a stark contrast to the fiery accusations thrown earlier. James looked at Sirius, surprise etched into his face. "You're defending him?"

Sirius sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "I'm not defending him, Prongs. I'm saying... we know what it's like to be judged by our families' actions. If Evan has shown Rylie he's different... maybe we should give him a chance too."

The statement hung in the air, and for the moment, the corridor was silent, each one processing Sirius' words.

James was quiet for a moment, his eyes shifting from Sirius to Evan and then to Rylie. The unexpected defense from Sirius had clearly rattled him, his anger deflating somewhat. He ran a hand through his hair, a mirror image of Sirius a moment ago. 

"You're right, Sirius," he admitted grudgingly. He turned his gaze to Evan, his expression hard but not unkind. "But I'm watching you, Rosier. If you hurt her, you'll have to answer to me."

With that, he turned on his heel and started walking away, his movements stiff with tension. He paused and looked back over his shoulder. "And for Merlin's sake, stop sneaking around. It's not fair on any of us."

Leaving his friends behind, he disappeared around the corner, leaving a tense silence in his wake. The confrontation was over for now, but there was no doubt it had left its mark on them all.

The remaining group were left standing in the corridor, each lost in their own thoughts. The tension was still palpable, but the storm had passed.

Evan broke the silence, giving Rylie's hand another gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry you had to do that, Ry," he murmured, his eyes soft as he looked at her. "I should have been the one to tell them."

Rylie shook her head, managing a weak smile. "No, it was my decision, too. We should have told them sooner."

She then turned to Sirius, her best friend who had surprised them all with his understanding. "Thank you, Sirius," she said sincerely. "I didn't expect... well, you know."

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, looking conflicted. "I can't say I'm thrilled about it, Rylie," he confessed. "But I know what it's like. Family isn't everything. And I don't want to lose my best friend over it."

Then, glancing at Evan, he added, "But James' warning stands. Hurt her, and you'll have us to deal with."

With that, he turned and followed after James, leaving Rylie, Evan, Lily, and Remus behind.

Lily moved forward, wrapping Rylie in a comforting hug. "It's going to be okay, Rylie," she reassured her friend. "They'll come around. They just need some time."

As they all dispersed, heading to their next class, Rylie couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety. She knew things were going to be different now. But for better or worse, she had made her choice. She was in love with Evan Rosier, and now everyone knew it.

Chapter Text

Rylie awoke to the gentle morning light streaming in through the high windows of the Gryffindor dormitory. The stone walls were bathed in a warm golden hue, and the chill of late autumn air had seeped in during the night, leaving a pleasant crispness behind. A sense of tranquility filled the room, as if the castle itself had exhaled a deep sigh of relief. It had been two months since her relationship with Evan had been revealed, and despite the whirlwind of emotions, life in Hogwarts had regained a semblance of normality.

Sitting up, Rylie took a moment to appreciate the quiet, drawing the heavy velvet curtains around her bed for some privacy. Her hands traced over the worn fabric, the same rich maroon as her house colors. She noted the steady rise and fall of her breath, and the slight, nagging fatigue that seemed to constantly cling to her these days. She shrugged it off as mere exhaustion, a side effect of the relentless stress she had been under.

Her thoughts drifted back to the previous month. The shock, anger, and hurt on James and Sirius's faces when they discovered the truth. The disappointment in their voices, and the tense silence that followed. It was hard to believe that so much time had passed already. 

Yet, amidst the chaos, she found a strange sense of peace. Being with Evan was like finding the eye of a storm, a calm center in the midst of turbulence. Their shared moments became a sanctuary, their connection deepening despite the challenges they faced. They grew closer in a way she hadn't thought possible, their relationship evolving into something much more profound than she could have ever imagined. 

With a soft sigh, Rylie slid out of bed, her bare feet hitting the cool stone floor. She had a lot on her mind, and she knew the day ahead would be just as demanding. But at that moment, bathed in the morning light and lost in her thoughts, she felt a strength within her that she knew would carry her through whatever came next.

“Doing okay?” Lily asked.

Catching sight of Lily, who was just waking up, Rylie collected her towel from where it hung on the banister near the central cast-iron stove. She moved towards the basin in their room, a little fatigue shadowing her features. Splashing cool water on her face, she turned to respond to Lily, "I'm okay, just a bit tired." She managed to flash a small smile, the refreshing chill of the water temporarily pushing away her exhaustion. 

Already working on getting dressed for the Quidditch match later that day, she turned her attention back to Lily, throwing a playful wink in her direction, "So, how was your date with James last night?" Rylie asked, her tone light, successfully steering the conversation away from her own tiredness.

Lily’s face flushed as she picked at a loose thread on her blanket. “It went really well. We had a nice romantic butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks then took a stroll right back to the castle.” Lily chuckled.

Rylie laughed as she fixed her hair in the mirror. “So, I assume the conversation was good at least?” she asked, looking at her friend through the mirror. She saw Lily’s face turn a deeper shade of crimson, to which she quickly grabbed her pillow and shoved it to her face.

“LILY!!” Rylie gasped. 

"No, we didn't have sex!" Lily emerged from behind her pillow, laughter dancing in her eyes. She lobbed a small decorative cushion at Rylie, her face still tinged with a pink hue. "But I'll tell you this much... he's an excellent kisser," she confessed, a dreamy smile playing on her lips.

Rylie caught the pillow mid-air, her own laughter echoing in the room. She couldn't help but compare Lily's experiences with her own. James was indeed a commendable kisser, but in her opinion, Evan surpassed him. His kisses were an intimate dance, gentle yet passionate, and far less... handsy. "Are you sure he wasn't a bit too grabby?" she teased, imitating groping hands in the air.

Shaking her head, Lily affirmed, "Not at all, he was the perfect gentleman."

After her amusement subsided, Rylie set the pillow back on Lily's bed, turning her attention back to fixing her hair. She twirled a loose strand around her finger, taking a moment to look at herself in the mirror. Her eyes fell on her reflection's slight paleness, something she'd been noticing lately. She hoped it was just due to her recent sleepless nights.

Her reverie was broken by Lily's voice. "Speaking of gentlemen," Lily continued, her tone teasing yet sincere, "How's Evan treating you?"

Rylie's heart fluttered at the mention of his name. It was amazing how, even after two months, she still felt a jolt of excitement every time he was mentioned. "He's... He's been wonderful, Lily." She allowed herself a small, genuine smile.

With her quidditch outfit on, Rylie turned to face her friend, leaning against the wooden post of her bed. "There's something different about him. It's not just that he's caring or that he respects me. He's genuinely interested in who I am, in understanding me. I've never experienced anything like it before." 

Her face warmed as she spoke, her heart pounding in her chest. Her fondness for Evan had grown rapidly over the past few months and though their relationship had started in secrecy, their mutual feelings had deepened significantly.

Lily, beaming at her friend's confession, gave a knowing nod. "I'm really happy for you, Rylie. I know things have been a bit... tense with the guys, but it's only because they're protective. They're not used to the idea of their close friend dating a Rosier. It's a complicated situation."

Rylie chuckled softly, her gaze drifting to the window that showcased the expansive Hogwarts grounds. "Yeah, I understand. We're just taking things one step at a time." Rylie released a small sigh, biting her lip pensively before pushing away from the bedpost. "Anyway, let's go get breakfast, my stomach is growling. Quidditch on an empty stomach is a recipe for disaster."

With a mutual nod of agreement, the two girls readied themselves for the day. After they had freshened up and gotten dressed, they joined the boys at their usual spot in the Great Hall for breakfast. The familiar scene of their friends engaged in morning banter brought a sense of normalcy to the ever-evolving dynamics of their group.

~*~

Rylie, perched on her broomstick, squinted at the incoming Bludger. With a powerful sweep of her beater’s bat, she sent it off-course, but with less force than usual. Her stomach lurched with every movement, her grip on the bat not as tight as she would've liked. The breakfast she'd consumed earlier seemed determined to make a reappearance.

Sirius and James were darting across the field, executing maneuvers they had practiced countless times. However, even amidst the thrill of the game, James noticed Rylie’s faltering hits and her noticeably paler complexion.

He signaled for a timeout. As the players hovered in place, he flew over to Rylie. “Ry, are you alright?” he asked, worry lining his features.

“I’m… I’m not sure, James,” she admitted, struggling to keep her discomfort from seeping into her voice. The last thing she wanted was to abandon the team mid-game, but her body was having none of it.

Without a moment’s hesitation, James made the call. “Alright, you're benched. We can't have you flying around like this. Don't worry, we'll manage,” he reassured her, even though he knew her absence would be keenly felt. 

As the alternate Beater zoomed onto the field, Rylie slowly descended, making her way to the locker room. Once inside, she slumped on a bench, trying to control her breathing, the nausea overwhelming.

A few moments later, the locker room door creaked open, and Evan walked in, worry etched into his handsome features. "Ry, are you okay?" He asked, his arm instinctively sliding around her shoulders, offering what comfort he could. Despite her efforts to smile and reassure him, the pallor of her skin and the tremble in her body told a different story.

“I don’t think breakfast agrees with me.” Rylie said, forcing a smile. Her eyes went wide as she ran to the loo and proceeded to experience her breakfast all over again as her stomach made quick work to expel whatever was inside. 

Evan was close behind and knelt down, holding her hair away from her face as he gently rubbed her back while withholding his own urge to vomit. He had to admit, he didn’t do well around stuff like this. He heard the sound of muffled cheers from outside the locker room and the announcement of Gryffindor’s seeker grabbing the snitch. Evan smirked and shook his head. “Sounds like you guys won.”

“Oh yay..” Rylie said weakly as she flushed the toilet. She sat on the floor, leaning up against the wall as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve. 

Ever the gentleman, Evan rose to dampen a couple of paper towels under the running faucet. Crouching back down beside Rylie, he tenderly placed one cool cloth on her nape, and handed her the other to freshen her face as she murmured her thanks. 

“Rylie?!” A voice inquired mixed with excitement and concern. 

Evan stood up and opened the door, “In here, Potter.”

James rushed over to the bathroom and gave Rylie a quizzical look when he saw her on the floor, looking pale. “C’mon, you’re going to Pomfrey.” he said as took a step forward and held out his hand.

“I’m good, James..” Rylie said, shooing his hand away. 

Evan stepped forward. "It's alright. I've got her," he reassured, meeting James' eyes with an understanding gaze.

Though James still had reservations about Evan, he couldn't deny the patience and care Evan had shown Rylie in the past month and a half. Despite himself, he respected that. Giving a reluctant nod, James took a step back, signaling for Evan to join him outside the bathroom.

As Evan moved to join James, Sirius slipped into the room to keep an eye on Rylie. "What happened?" James asked, his tone tense with worry.

Evan sighed, keeping his eyes on Sirius who had now taken up his previous position, holding Rylie's hair back as she retched again. "She's not feeling well. She thinks breakfast might not have agreed with her."

James furrowed his brow, anxiety evident on his face. He gave a terse nod before turning to Evan. "You don't suppose she's..."

Evan met James' inquiring gaze with confusion. James gestured vaguely to his stomach, leaving the sentence hanging in the air. The expression on Evan's face was priceless. His eyes widened in shock, nearly comically so. "No, I... I highly doubt that," Evan stammered out, a cough catching in his throat.

Though now that idea was stuck in his head and he looked back to Rylie who was now walking over to them after freshening up. “Remind me not to shove down a bunch of bacon before Quidditch next time.” Rylie said with a chuckle. 

Evan gave Rylie a small smile and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “C’mon, you need to wash up and rest.” 

James reached out and wrapped Rylie up in a hug. “You did great out there by the way.” he said as he pulled back and returned her to Evan. “We’re now one step closer to winning the house cup this year.” He said as he gave a wink to Evan. Even though it was playful banter, James couldn’t help but feel as if he was better than Evan at that moment. 

Returning the polite smile, Evan guided Rylie towards the exit. "There are still plenty of games to play this season. Anything can happen!" Though the truth was, his loyalty to Slytherin had waned. He even found himself joining Rylie at the Gryffindor table for meals occasionally. Darius had questioned this shift, warning Evan of potential consequences, but Evan chose to dismiss Darius' caution. They would be fine, Evan was sure of it. He would see to that.

~*~

As they walked towards the castle, Evan's gaze flickered back to Rylie, her face paler than he was comfortable with. "Maybe we should get you to Madam Pomfrey, just to be safe."

"No," Rylie was quick to protest, her tone final. "It's just a bad mix of breakfast and nerves, I promise. Madam Pomfrey will have me drinking all sorts of vile concoctions for no reason."

Her eyes met his, a silent plea echoing in the depths of her gaze. She'd always hated the hospital wing, associating it with times of grave injury or sickness. Evan knew this, and also knew better than to push her when she was this stubborn. Besides, she had a point. It was probably nothing more than an upset stomach.

"Alright, love. No Madam Pomfrey," Evan conceded, his voice softer now. He tightened his grip around her reassuringly. "But you're going straight to bed. You need rest."

Rylie gave a small nod of agreement, resting her head on his shoulder as they walked. Evan couldn't shake the worry gnawing at the back of his mind, but he pushed it aside. For now, he'd stay by Rylie's side, making sure she was okay. That's all he could do. And if her condition didn't improve, he'd drag her to the hospital wing himself, whether she agreed to it or not. He steered her towards the Room of Requirement. 

Once in their room, Evan helped Rylie settle into the bed, tucking her in with care. He dropped his bag on the floor, retrieved a water bottle, and offered it to her. She thanked him, taking a small sip.

He watched her for a moment, a concern etching across his features. “Rylie… are you sure it was just breakfast that made you sick?” he asked gently, perching on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, why?” she replied, not eager to pursue this line of inquiry. She'd been feeling more tired than usual, and her stomach had been frequently upset. But she attributed it to the stress of recent events – her struggles to mend fences with her friends, the news of her parents’ near-final divorce, the complications of custody arrangements. It was overwhelming.

Evan chewed his cheek, deep in thought. Rising from the bed, he approached the coffee table before the fireplace. In response to his unspoken thought, the room conjured a pregnancy test.

Rylie's eyes widened at the sight. A laugh escaped her, but it was mingled with a hint of worry. “Absolutely not. That’s not what this is,” she asserted. The idea of being pregnant was absurd. Terrifying, even. They were in their final year – a pregnancy would turn their world upside down.

But Evan's gaze held hers, his expression earnest. “Ry, it'll at least put my mind at ease,” he implored.

With a resigned sigh, Rylie agreed. “Fine.” Pushing herself off the bed, she walked over, plucked the test from his hand, and disappeared into the bathroom.

Moments later, Rylie emerged from the bathroom, her face as pale as Nearly Headless Nick. Evan could tell instantly, even before she spoke. He yearned to approach her, take the test from her hand, verify the truth with his own eyes. But he felt anchored to the spot, his limbs heavy, his voice frozen in his throat.

“Evan… I need you to breathe…” Rylie whispered, bridging the distance between them. Her hands slipped into his, and it was as if her touch sparked him back to life. He jolted, then recoiled, his hands sliding out of hers. Rylie’s stomach twisted at his reaction, the threat of tears prickling in her eyes.

Seeing the hurt reflected in her gaze, Evan’s heart clenched. He'd caused that pain. A surge of remorse propelled him forward, and he enfolded her in his arms. “It’s okay,” he murmured into her hair, the words just as much a mantra for himself as for her. He repeated it over and over, the phrase becoming a lifeline, an anchor in the swirling storm of emotions. "It's okay." He wished he could wake up and discover this was all just a bad dream.

After a few minutes of holding each other in silence, Evan gently broke the hug and gazed down at Rylie. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but she held his gaze unflinchingly. "What are we going to do, Evan?" she asked, her voice quiet but steady.

Evan felt a knot of apprehension tighten in his chest, but he swallowed it down and squeezed her hands. "First, we need to confirm this," he said, motioning towards the test still held in her hand. "We should go see Madam Pomfrey tomorrow. She will know what to do."

“No, she’ll owl my parents and I’ll get kicked out of Hogwarts. Absolutely not.” Rylie stated.

Evan frowned and was going to argue against that, but knew at this point it was just in his best interest to agree. 

The next few minutes passed in a haze. Evan helped Rylie get into bed and pulled the covers over her. He stayed by her side, his hand stroking her hair until he heard her steady breathing, indicating she had fallen asleep.

When he was sure she was asleep, he stepped out into the chilly night. He needed a moment to collect his thoughts. The stars above seemed indifferent to his turmoil, twinkling merrily in the black expanse of the night sky. He felt a sense of disbelief. This couldn't be happening. But as he stood there, staring at the infinite expanse, he realized that whether he was ready or not, his life was about to change drastically.

Just as he was about to head back inside, an owl swooped down, dropping a letter in his hand. He recognized the handwriting - it was from Darius. He opened the letter and scanned its contents.

Evan, be careful. A new target was added. Guard what's precious. - Darius

Darius was never one for flowery language. His words were always to the point, and this cryptic warning was unsettling. Evan felt a knot forming in his stomach. They had been so careful, he thought. But their secret relationship turned into a semi-public one, the recent discovery of Rylie's pregnancy, and now this unnerving message from Darius. The weight of the world seemed to be bearing down on him all at once.

He crumpled the note in his hand, looking back up at the castle. What could his parents be up to that would warrant such a warning? And what did Darius mean by 'guard what's precious'? He was unsure. But one thing was clear: he had to protect Rylie, now more than ever.

With newfound determination, Evan turned on his heel and walked back into the castle. His mind was already working overtime, trying to puzzle together Darius' warning and what it could mean for them. There was a lot of uncertainty ahead, but Evan knew one thing for sure: he would fight tooth and nail to keep Rylie safe.

~*~

Evan woke up to the golden light of dawn seeping in through the window. He turned to see Rylie next to him, her hair spread out on the pillow, her eyelashes casting long shadows on her pale cheeks. The events of the previous night swam back to him - her sickness during the Quidditch game, the pregnancy test, their unspoken fear.

Gently, Evan brushed a loose curl from her forehead. "Good morning," he said softly.

Rylie stirred, fluttering her eyes open. She tried to sit up but winced, her hand instinctively moving to her stomach. Evan's concern was immediate.

"Rylie, maybe we should go see Madam Pomfrey," he suggested, his voice laced with worry. "She can help."

Rylie shook her head almost violently. "No, Evan. I told you. We can't," she said, her voice filled with fear. "If they find out I'm pregnant, they'll expel me. I can't...we can't risk it."

Evan stared at her for a moment, torn between his concern for her health and the very real fear she had voiced. "Rylie, your health matters more than anything. If anything goes wrong, you'll have to promise me we'll consider seeking help," he implored.

Rylie took a deep breath, looking into Evan's eyes, her hand absentmindedly brushing against his. "Alright," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

The silence between them was a comfortable one as they collected their belongings, the atmosphere around them heavy with unspoken words and shared secrets. The Room of Requirement had become their safe haven, a place where they could escape the bustle of Hogwarts life, and just be. It had seen them at their worst and their best, and now it bore witness to another defining moment in their lives.

Rylie looked over at Evan, his usually vibrant green eyes clouded with concern. He was tying the laces of his shoes, his movements automatic as he was lost deep in thought. She moved over to him, sitting next to him. She reached over, her hand resting on top of his. He stopped, looking up at her. She could see the apprehension, the worry.

"We'll figure this out," Rylie assured, her voice steady, even though inside, she was a whirlwind of emotions.

Evan nodded, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "I know," he replied, his voice barely a whisper.

Steeling themselves, they left the Room of Requirement, the door closing behind them with a quiet click. 

~*~

As the heavy wooden door of the Gryffindor common room creaked open, Rylie stepped in, tugging her robe tighter around her. It was still early, and the morning chill was seeping into the castle. Across the room, in front of the glowing fireplace, sat Sirius, James, and Remus, their faces illuminated by the dancing flames.

At the sound of the door, the boys' heads turned towards her almost in unison. The fire crackled, casting long, flickering shadows around the room as Sirius, with a raised eyebrow, broke the silence. "Well, look who's finally decided to join us this morning."

James gave Sirius a slight nudge, a silent reprimand for his early morning snark, and then turned to Rylie, his eyes softening. "Morning, Ry," he greeted warmly, his gaze lingering on her for a moment, concern subtly playing in his eyes. "You feeling better?"

Remus, ever the attentive one, watched her closely from his armchair. Despite her attempted casual demeanor, he could see the lingering fatigue on her face. As she walked towards them, he motioned to an empty spot next to him. "We saved a seat for you," he said, a small comforting smile on his face. 

Rylie gave him a weak smile in return, appreciating the gesture. She slowly made her way over to the group, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Sirius looked up from his book as she sat down next to Remus, his eyes flicking to her face.

"Rough night?" he asked, noting the dark circles under her eyes. Sirius could be brash at times, but he cared deeply for his friends and was good at noticing when things were off.

"Just didn't sleep well," Rylie lied, forcing a casual shrug. She shifted in her seat, leaning back into the comfort of the plush armchair. She hoped her casual demeanor was convincing enough.

James, who had been engrossed in a Quidditch magazine, looked up. His hazel eyes met Rylie's, an unspoken understanding passing between them. He knew something was off, but he also knew better than to press.

“Why are you guys up so early?” Rylie asked, trying to divert their attention from her. 

“We could ask you the same thing,” Sirius retorted, a playful glint in his eyes. But the playful banter couldn't fully mask the concern that lingered in his voice. 

Rylie laughed softly, glad for the change in conversation. She was not ready to reveal her secret, not just yet. She knew the time would come, but for now, she was thankful for the normalcy her friends offered.

"Well," Remus started, sharing a look with Sirius and James, "we were actually waiting for you."

Rylie looked at him, her eyebrows furrowing. "Waiting for me?" she echoed, her confusion clear.

James nodded, setting his magazine aside. "Yeah, we saw you leave for the Room of Requirement on the Marauder's Map last night and we, well, we were just keeping an eye out for you," he admitted, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

Rylie felt a mixture of emotions well up within her: surprise, a little bit of irritation, but mostly, a profound sense of gratitude. Despite their differences and recent tensions, they still cared about her. She smiled at them, "You guys are the best, you know that right?"

Sirius smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Well, it's about time you noticed," he joked, but his gray eyes held a softness that Rylie hadn't seen in a while.

The banter helped to break the tension in the room, and for the moment, things seemed normal, even though her world had shifted in unimaginable ways.

“James, could I um.. talk to you real quick?” Rylie asked quietly. 

James nodded. Sirius and Remus stood. The two didn’t take it personally. They were all close friends, but there was a bond that was different between James and Rylie. “Let’s go for a walk..” Rylie suggested as she stood and reached for his hand, helping him up.

Once they were out in the grounds, they found their feet had taken them down to the Gryffindor locker room down at the pitch. “I need you to do me a favor and give me your wand.” Rylie asked, her face extremely nervous. 

“Um..” James questioned as he took his wand out. “Why..” he asked, suddenly extremely concerned. Rylie reached forward and took his wand and shoved it in her back pocket.

“Sit..” she said as she paced in a small circle.

James watched her carefully, his nerves making him vibrate. “Rylie, what the hell is going on.”

Rylie stopped and looked at James. She promised him no more secrets. She promised him she would tell him if anything major happened. She wanted to keep this pregnancy a secret. She didn’t want anybody else to know but just her and Evan.The less who knew, the safer they were. She shook her hands with nerves and quickly brought a hand up to wipe a tear. 

As James watched her, fear began to creep down his spine. “Rylie, you need to tell me what’s wrong.” he begged.

“I’m pregnant.” Rylie whispered as she looked down to the ground, her shoe poking into the wooden floor.

*CRACK*  

Rylie’s eyes shot up as she saw James seething. His hand was balled up in a fist and she saw flecks of blood on his knuckles from where it made contact with the bench. She sucked in some air. James kept his eyes towards the ground as he suddenly stood. “Give me my wand.” he asked, his voice deep and in a tone that she never really heard before. She took a step back and shook her head. The look on his face scared Rylie. It was a mixture of anger, pain and fear. It was a side of James she very rarely saw.“Rylie, my wand. Now.” 

“No, James!” Rylie cried. “You wonder why I’m always so hesitant to come talk to you!? Because of shit like this! It’s not fair for you to go flying off the handle all the damn time when I’m trying to come to you to be my friend! I NEED MY FRIEND JAMES!” Rylie yelled, her fists clenched at her sides. She took a deep breath and let it out as she looked up to him. “I don’t need a fucking hero all the god damn time!”

James stopped in his tracks. His eyes wide as her words slammed into him like the Hogwarts Express causing his anger to suddenly flee. He frowned and quickly wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry.” he whispered, taking in her sweet honeysuckle shampoo smell. He leaned back, his hands on her upper arms. “I just, are you okay? Did you see Pomfrey? How do you know for sure?” James asked, the onslaught of questions just spewing from his mouth. 

Rylie answered all of his questions while she bandaged his hand. She explained to him the need to try and at least keep this quiet for not only her safety, but for Evan’s too. She wasn’t sure if his parents would retaliate and she didn’t want to find out. 

“Are you going to keep it?” James asked.

Rylie shrugged. “I don’t know yet, I just found out last night.”

“How’d Evan take it?”

“I’m honestly surprised he didn’t faint. Fairly sure I also saw his soul left his body.” she said softly, chuckling amongst her tears. “But he  didn’t leave me, he’s not going anywhere.” she whispered. 

James placed a hand on her back and gave her a small pat. “Good..because if he did leave you, I was just going to steal my wand back like this,” he reached down and grabbed his wand with a sly grin, “ and curse him till he talked like a goat for the rest of his life.” 

“Oi..” Rylie chuckled and swatted his leg lightly. “But seriously, I promised I’d be more open and honest with you, but I can’t have anybody else know. We can’t risk it yet.” she whispered.

James nodded. The concept of withholding such significant information from Sirius, Remus, and Lily didn't sit well with him, but this was the compromise they had landed on. If one person from their group was privy to the situation, it would certainly ease the process of keeping a watchful eye on Rylie. 

~*~

Several days had passed since Rylie's profound revelation. A deceptive sense of normality was maintained, the rhythm of life at Hogwarts seemingly uninterrupted. But James was constantly on high alert, a secret vigilante for Rylie's well-being, guarding her secret with a relentless, protective fervor.

In the soft glow of the evening, James found himself in the company of Lily, tucked away in a quiet corner of the library. Their study materials were splayed out around them, but his attention was anchored elsewhere.

Lily glanced at James, her green eyes sparkling with an intuitive intelligence. "You've been unusually silent today," she noted, her foot nudging his beneath the table.

Pulled from his thoughts, James attempted a casual smile. "Just lost in the fascinating world of potions," he said, a white lie that left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Lily studied him for a moment before speaking, her words landing like a soft whisper between them. "James," she started, her hand reaching for his, "you're not very good at lying to me. I know about Rylie."

James's heart plummeted, shock coursing through his veins. "You...what?"

Lily's fingers tightened around his. "I figured it out," she said, her voice steady. "I haven't mentioned it because I know Rylie is under a lot of stress right now. It's not my place."

Stunned, James could only nod, his mind racing to catch up. "Thank you," he finally managed to say, "for understanding. She told me and made me promise not to say anything till she and Evan figure out what they want to do.”

Lily gripped his hand, leaning forward to place a small kiss on his cheek. “The fact Rylie chose to tell you says a lot.” She said. 

James sighed and nodded. “We had a long talk shortly after we found out about Evan and her.” He turned and wrapped his arms around her, bringing her close to him. “You have no idea how much better I feel knowing you know.” He whispered. It was such a heavy burden, and to keep it from Sirius and Remus was tough. He wanted to have her tell them too, but she didn’t want to do anything until she and Evan figured out what they were going to do. 

~*~

The familiar green glow of the Slytherin common room's underwater windows cast a dim light in their dormitory. Evan and Darius were surrounded by the mundane remnants of school life – quills, textbooks, and discarded robes, unkempt beds. Definitely a room occupied by boys.

Holding the note tightly in his hand. "This note, Darius... what did you mean by 'guard what’s precious'?"

Darius shifted uneasily on his bed, locking eyes with Evan. "It's about Rylie. And her family."

A cold feeling settled in Evan's stomach. "Explain."

"Look," Darius started, "we both know your family and their... affiliations. Rylie's dad being an Auror has made him a target. But her mother, she's the real vulnerability. She's a muggle."

Evan felt a pang of dread. "You think they'd target her to get to him?"

Darius sighed, "I've overheard things, Evan. Conversations between some of the other students, things that shouldn’t be spoken about in school. It's a way to send a message."

Evan's frustration grew. "Why use such cryptic warnings? Why not just tell me?"

Darius looked away. "Because sometimes saying things outright is dangerous, especially in writing. Also I didn't want to put you in direct danger.”

There was a heavy pause. Evan's mind raced, trying to piece everything together. "The Ministry... they must know something about this, right? They can't be blind to it."

Darius shrugged. "The Ministry is vast and complex. They might know, they might not. But I wouldn't rely solely on them."

Evan exhaled slowly. "What can we even do? We're just students."

"We keep our heads down, stay alert, and you just be there for Rylie.” Darius advised. He observed Evan closely, noting the unease in his usually confident demeanor. The familiar cocky smirk was gone, replaced by deep lines of worry that were uncharacteristic for the younger Slytherin.

"Evan," Darius began, narrowing his eyes, "I've seen you face down challenges and threats, but I've never seen you this genuinely scared before. What's going on?"

Taking a deep breath, Evan's voice trembled slightly, "Rylie... she's pregnant."

Darius leaned back, the weight of Evan's revelation causing him to reassess the situation. The usually unflappable Evan looked genuinely troubled, a rare occurrence that only underscored the seriousness of their predicament.

"You fucking idiot!" Darius began with a hushed intensity, not wanting to alert anyone outside their room. "Getting involved with a Gryffindor was one thing, but not taking precautions…Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Evan winced, his normally stoic façade cracking. "I know, Darius, I know. It's more than I ever anticipated."

Darius's voice raised a notch, his anger palpable. "You've gone and tied your fate to a Gryffindor, and not just any Gryffindor, but the daughter of a high-ranking Auror! In times like these? Do you understand the gravity of what you've done?” Darius continued, his voice a mix of exasperation and concern. "Rylie's father is a high-ranking Auror. The Death Eaters already have their eyes on her mother. With your family ties and this pregnancy, you've potentially given them another target."

Evan's breath caught in his throat, realizing the full scope of the danger. "I didn't think it would come to this," he admitted.

"It doesn't matter what you thought," Darius said, pressing on. "Now that she's carrying your child, the stakes have changed. If they connect the dots, if they realize what you two have done... They'll see it as a chance to hurt the Auror department through her father. And considering the situation, who knows what measures her father might take to ensure his daughter's safety, given his authority."

Evan's eyes filled with a rare flash of fear. "I won't let anything happen to her or our child."

Darius's features softened for a moment. "I know you won't. But we have to be smart. Think about your actions and the repercussions. You have two lives now depending on you, Evan."

Feeling defeated, Evan whispered, "Should I tell Rylie? I don’t even know how she would react. I can't risk losing her."

"That's the catch, isn't it?" Darius said grimly. 

"It's like trying to traverse a minefield blindfolded," Evan muttered, the weight of his decisions pressing heavily on him. 

Darius paused, choosing his words carefully. "Look, the whole thing with her mum? It's... intense. If Rylie's in the dark, maybe she's better off, at least for now. Sometimes, not knowing keeps you safe."

Evan frowned, "But what's the limit? How long can I keep this from her? What if something happens and she feels like it's on her for not being aware or prepared?"

The gravity of the situation hung in the air, nearly tangible.

Darius ran a hand through his hair, "Keeping stuff from someone, especially something this big, it's risky. If she ever finds out you knew and didn’t tell her, that trust is shattered. But dropping this bomb on her now, with everything else going on? That's not easy either."

Evan stared off, his thoughts clearly miles away. "Damn that potions class," he mumbled, more to himself than to Darius. "If we'd never been paired up, she wouldn't be in the middle of all this." He took a deep breath, anguish evident in his voice. "I genuinely love her, Darius.” He whispered. It was the first time he admitted to himself and even anybody else that he truly did love her. “But every day, I wrestle with the thought that maybe she'd be safer, better off, if I wasn't in the picture."

Darius raised an eyebrow, his direct gaze piercing through Evan. "Leaving her? You think that'll magically fix everything?" He paused, choosing his words carefully. "You bail, she's still at risk. Only difference is, she'll be facing everything alone. If you truly care about her safety, then think it through. Fully." He folded his arms, waiting for Evan's response.

Evan looked down, his jaw set tight. "I know, Darius. I just... I'm trying to figure out the best way to protect her, you know? But the idea of not being by her side feels wrong. I just wish... I wish we had never been paired in that damn Potions class. None of this would've happened." He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his posture. 

Darius leaned back, eyeing Evan critically. "Protecting her doesn't mean running away. Sometimes, it means facing things head-on. You think walking away is the solution? Fine, but remember: life doesn't give do-overs. If you leave now, there's no guarantee she'll be there if you try coming back. And if you really care for her, consider whether you're making this decision for her benefit... or your own.

The door to the dormitory swung open with a bang, revealing Michael with a smug grin plastered on his face. "Well, isn't this a touching scene? The two of you having a heart-to-heart?"

Evan's eyes flared with anger, instantly recalling Michael's earlier comments in class. "Now's not the time, Michael."

Michael smirked, sauntering into the room. "Did I strike a nerve earlier, Rosier? It's just so hard to resist, especially when it involves you and the Gryffindor girl."

Darius, ever the mediator, shot Michael a warning look. "You should leave."

"Oh, come on, Darius," Michael drawled, "I was just hoping to join in on the fun. Besides, what's a little banter between housemates?"

Evan stood up abruptly, his voice icy. "You know nothing about Rylie. Watch your mouth, or you'll find out just how far I'm willing to go to protect what's mine."

Michael raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Protect? From what? From little comments in Potions class?"

Darius sighed, "Michael, just go."

With a chuckle, Michael turned to leave, but not before casting one last mocking look at Evan. "Try not to get too wrapped up in your Gryffindor romance, Rosier. Remember where your loyalties should lie." And with that, he exited the room, leaving a palpable tension in his wake.

~*~

Evan found a spot on the bleachers, overlooking the vast expanse of the Quidditch pitch. The memories of the conversation he had with Darius from earlier that day just settled into his brain. The setting sun cast long shadows on the ground, transforming the field into a canvas of gold and twilight blue. The teams were in full practice, with players deftly weaving through the air.

Rylie stood out among them. Her red hair gleamed like a fiery comet against the sky, and her movements were swift, graceful, and assured. The Quaffle seemed to obey her every command, never leaving her grip unless she willed it.

James Potter, ever the attentive captain, noticed Rylie's exceptional performance and flew up beside her. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, perhaps offering words of encouragement or just checking in. Rylie smiled in response, nodding before they both zoomed off in different directions.

Evan's heart tightened, a pang of jealousy striking him. Their history, that brief fling in their 4th year and their deep-rooted friendship, sometimes made it hard for him to watch them so close. But he pushed those feelings aside, reminding himself he trusted Rylie completely. Yet, another worry lingered: Rylie, at nearly three months pregnant, playing such a high-intensity sport.

When practice wrapped up, Rylie descended, her face glowing from the exertion. She approached Evan, her green eyes sparkling with delight. "Didn’t expect to see you here," she chirped, taking a swig from her water bottle.

"Just thought I'd watch you fly," he replied, trying to mask the depth of his emotions. 

Rylie studied his face, sensing there was more he wasn't saying. "Something bothering you?"

Evan rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find the words to articulate his anxiety. "Rylie... watching you fly, especially with our little one on the way, it scares me. It's not just you soaring up there."

Rylie's green eyes flashed, a storm of emotions swirling within them - pride, love, fear, defiance. "Quidditch has always been a part of who I am. I'm not about to let it go just because things are changing."

Before Evan could respond, the familiar voice of James interrupted, his tone surprisingly somber. "I actually side with Rosier on this one," James admitted, glancing from Rylie to Evan. "Rylie, you know I've seen firsthand your skills as a beater, and there's no denying your talent. But things are different now. It's not just about you anymore."

A soft, wistful smile played on Rylie's lips, a memory perhaps from their brief dating history. "James, I've played this game since I was a child. Always been aware of the risks, and I've always been careful."

James's expression softened, his fondness for Rylie evident. "I get it, Ry. You're passionate and determined. But as your captain and friend, I need to look out for you, for both of you." he said as he looked to her stomach then back up to her.

Evan, taken aback by James's genuine concern, murmured, "That's all we want, Rylie. For you to be safe."

The golden hues of the setting sun provided a stark contrast to the tension in the air, as their feelings and concerns melded into a complicated tapestry of emotions.

Rylie looked between the two of them, exhaling slowly. Her hand unconsciously moved to rest over her stomach. "I understand both of your concerns. Truly, I do. But the idea of sidelining myself, of not being me... that's terrifying too."

Evan moved closer, brushing a stray strand of her fiery hair behind her ear, his gaze softening. "I don't want you to lose who you are, Rylie. It's who I fell in love with. But the very thought of something happening to you or our baby... it's unbearable."

James nodded in agreement, his usually playful demeanor replaced with sincerity. "Look, I've seen plenty of rough games, nasty falls, and close calls. I just think you should think it through."

She bit her lip, torn. "Maybe... maybe I can adjust my position or technique. Be more defensive. I can't just quit."

Evan pressed his lips together, pondering her words. He realized it wasn't about Quidditch itself; it was about Rylie's identity, her freedom. "How about a compromise? Talk with Madam Pomfrey. If she gives an okay with some precautions, I'll... try to be more at ease."

James nodded appreciatively. "That sounds fair."

Rylie’s green eyes flashed defiantly, her back straightening. "No. I won’t see Madam Pomfrey."

Both Evan and James exchanged surprised glances. "Rylie, it's just a precaution. It's for the best," Evan tried to reason, his voice gentle yet persistent.

She looked down, playing with the hem of her shirt. "You don't get it, Evan. If I go to her and she finds out about... this," she subtly motioned to her belly, "there are protocols. She’ll notify my parents. And given everything with their divorce, this is the last thing they need.”

A pang of guilt shot through Evan, not only about their current situation but also the looming threat to her mother. The weight of his knowledge felt like a ton pressing on his chest.

Evan reached out, trying to cup her face, but she pulled away slightly. "It’s not just about the game, Evan. It's about me having some semblance of control when everything else is spiraling."

James, sensing an opportunity to break the tension, chimed in, "What about a muggle healer? They wouldn't be bound by the same protocols."

Rylie raised an eyebrow, considering the suggestion, "I... hadn't thought about that. Do you think it could work?"

Evan thought for a moment, "It's worth exploring, at least. Muggles have their ways, and it might provide a bit of discretion."

James nodded in agreement, "It might be a middle ground, Ry. Keep playing, but with some reassurance that everything's okay."

Rylie exhaled deeply, rubbing her temples. "I just need... I need some time to think, okay?"

Evan nodded slowly, the worry evident in his eyes. "Alright. Just promise me you'll consider it."

She gave him a weak smile, her freckles standing out against her pale face. "I promise."

~*~

Golden flames danced in the fireplace, casting playful shadows over the common room's walls. The atmosphere was welcoming, with the occasional soft hum of conversation punctuated by laughter. Students reclined in various states of relaxation, with some engrossed in books or homework, while others enjoyed the company of friends.

Rylie found herself in the embrace of a plush armchair, flanked by Alice on one side and Emmeline on the other. Lily lounged on the floor, her fiery hair contrasting against the deep red carpet, her hands expertly shuffling a deck of cards. 

"Alright, ladies, best out of three?" Lily proposed with a sly grin, dealing the cards with practiced ease.

Emmeline smirked, adjusting her glasses. "Prepare to be humbled, Evans."

Alice leaned forward, her playful tone evident. "You say that every time, Vance. And yet..."

The redhead shot Rylie a conspiratorial glance, noticing her distant gaze. "You alright there, Kipping? Need to join the real world?"

Shaking herself out of her reverie, Rylie smirked. "Just formulating my winning strategy."

Alice chuckled, "Sounds ominous. Should we be worried?"

Rylie winked in response, but her actions were slightly exaggerated, a bit too cheerful — an act for her friends' sake. They all noticed but chose to let it slide for the moment, allowing the light-hearted game to be a brief distraction.

As the game progressed, the chatter ebbed and flowed. The girls discussed classes, the latest Quidditch matches, and shared snippets of gossip. It was during one such moment, while Emmeline detailed a comically failed potion experiment in Slughorn's class, that Rylie's laughter rang out genuine and clear.

Lily looked up, a soft smile of relief touching her lips, her green eyes reflecting the warmth of the fire. She knew her friend was going through a lot, even if Rylie tried to mask it. This moment of pure joy was precious.

Eventually, the game wound down, with Emmeline gloating over her victory and Lily feigning dramatic devastation.

"I demand a rematch!" Lily proclaimed, garnering laughter from the group.

As they started tidying up, Alice leaned into Rylie, her voice soft. "Whatever's on your mind, you know we're here, right?"

Emmeline nodded in agreement, her face sincere. "Always."

Rylie felt a rush of gratitude for her friends. They were her anchor in the midst of a brewing storm. She hugged them both tightly, whispering, "Thank you."

In the dimly lit common room, the four girls sat together, a silent bond of understanding flowing between them. The soft crackle of the fireplace and the distant murmur of other students created a soothing background.

Rylie, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater, took a deep breath. "Everything feels so overwhelming, you know? Evan's concerns, the pressures of Quidditch, my family's situation... It's like I'm walking on a tightrope, and I don't know how long I can maintain my balance."

Lily tilted her head, her green eyes searching Rylie's face. "It's okay to feel lost sometimes. But remember, while your situations are yours to bear, you don’t have to face them entirely alone."

Alice, usually the most light-hearted among them, added with a half-smile, "Besides, sometimes all you need is a different perspective. Or, in your case, three." she said as she motioned to herself, Emmeline and Lily.

Emmeline nodded, her demeanor calm. "We might not have all the answers, Rylie, but we can at least help you sift through the chaos. Let's break things down, one challenge at a time."

Grateful for their grounded approach, Rylie nodded slowly. "I just... I'm scared, especially for the future."

Lily leaned forward, "And that's fair. But dwelling too much on the 'what ifs' won't help. We'll tackle each obstacle as it comes. And while we may not always have solutions, you'll always have a sounding board."

Rylie nodded and gave her friends a small smile. The common room began to empty out as the evening wore on, the glow of the fireplace casting long shadows on the stone walls. Rylie felt drained by the weight of her thoughts, deciding that it was best to retire for the night.

Heading up to their shared dormitory, Rylie began her nightly routine, lost in thought. Lily, following her up a few moments later, moved silently through the room. As they both got ready for bed, there was a palpable silence, filled only by the sounds of rustling fabrics and soft footsteps.

With each movement Rylie made, she felt the slight stretch of her uniform against her emerging bump. In the dim light of the room, Lily's observant eyes caught the subtle change in Rylie's silhouette. While she didn't voice her observations, her expression spoke of concern and a growing realization.

Lying down, Rylie's mind raced, even as her body sought rest. The weight of the world seemed to press down on her chest. Thoughts of Evan filled her mind - his touch, his laughter, their shared moments. But with those memories came the shadows of fear. Evan's family and their likely reaction upon discovering the pregnancy. The danger it would pose to both of them, and the baby.

She then thought of her father, a man of pride and principle. Would he see this pregnancy as a betrayal? Would he target Evan out of wrath? The very idea of the two worlds colliding sent shivers down her spine.

As the night deepened, Rylie could feel Lily's presence beside her, a silent pillar of support. Though words were unspoken, the comfort of a trusted friend being near was undeniable. But even in that solace, the storms of uncertainty and fear continued to brew within Rylie's heart.

Rylie felt the mattress shift subtly beside her and was met by Lily's gaze, filled not with judgment but with a warmth that only old friends could muster.

"You've been different lately," Lily began hesitantly, her eyes dropping to where Rylie's hands instinctively cradled her small bump.

The look in Lily’s eyes said everything. She knew. “Did James tell you? I swear I’m going to curse him so hard-” Rylie growled as she shifted more onto her side so she can see Lily better.

Lily let out a small chuckle and shook her head. "I've put the pieces together. And I want you to know, I won't utter a word to anyone."

For a second, Rylie felt exposed and vulnerable, but the firmness in Lily's vow and the softness in her eyes anchored her. "Lily...” she whispered, eyes glistening.

Lily squeezed Rylie's hand, a gentle firmness that conveyed understanding. "You know," she began, a hint of mischief in her eyes, "while the boys may be a part of your life, they don't exactly have the finesse or insight when it comes to... well, this." She gestured subtly to Rylie's slight bump. "Do you really want to rely on their perspective alone for the upcoming months?" 

Rylie couldn't help but chuckle, envisioning James and Sirius trying to give maternal advice.

Lily winked, her grin widening. "There you go. Now you see my point. " The light-hearted moment was punctuated by Lily's genuine, warm smile.

Rylie shifted, propping herself up against the plush headboard. Her voice held a tinge of weariness, “I've been avoiding Madam Pomfrey. I'm scared of getting expelled, and I can't have my parents finding out. Not yet.” Her fingers fiddled with a loose thread on the red and gold quilt her mother had sewn for her when she was sorted into Gryffindor her first year. The intricate stitches brought memories flooding back and had her pondering—would she be crafting a similar keepsake for her own child someday?

Lily’s emerald eyes sparkled with a mix of determination and sympathy. “You know, there's a muggle clinic in the village by Hogsmeade. We could visit next weekend.”

Rylie's green eyes met Lily’s. "James and Evan mentioned that idea," she whispered, trying to keep the emotions from spilling. “They wanna bench me for the rest of the season,” she said with a mix of indignation and sadness, giving the stubborn string on her quilt an exasperated pull, detaching it.

Lily’s face softened. “James did mention it. He’s just worried about you,” her gaze dropped momentarily to Rylie’s stomach, “both of you.” She paused, choosing her words, “But I told him keeping you away from the pitch was the worst thing he could do. Quidditch is a part of you.”

Rylie nodded, a grateful smile touching her lips. “Thanks, Lil. So, next weekend it is.”

Lily gave Rylie a small pat on the leg as she stood up and walked over to her bed next to her. “Next weekend.” She smiled. She lifted her wand from her night stand and gave it a small flick to dim the lights. 

“Night Lils..” Rylie said as she drew the curtains around her bed. 

The clutches of sleep pulled Rylie deep into a dreamscape steeped in shadows. The atmosphere was thick with tension, and a sense of foreboding loomed heavily over her. She found herself outside her childhood home, peering through a cracked window into the dimly lit living room.

Inside, she could see her mother, unaware of the danger approaching. A group of cloaked figures, their faces hidden, broke down the front door. Rylie tried to shout a warning, but no sound escaped her lips. Helplessly, she watched as her mother, terrified but defiant, picked up a kitchen knife in a futile attempt to defend herself.

The leader of the group, discernible by the sinister emblem embroidered on his cloak, approached her mother. He effortlessly snatched the knife from her grip, mocking her resistance. With a sadistic grin, he slowly circled her, drawing out her fear. Her mother's eyes darted around the room, desperately seeking an escape route, but there was none. 

Suddenly, with chilling precision, the leader lunged forward, slashing her mother's throat with the knife. Rylie felt a scream rise in her throat, but it was trapped, suffocated, leaving her in agonizing silence. She watched, paralyzed in horror, as her mother's eyes widened in shock, hands desperately clutching her bleeding neck. As she crumpled lifelessly to the ground, the menacing laughter of the cloaked figures filled the room before they vanished into thin air. Rylie's heart felt like it had been torn out as she pounded on the window, but the barrier remained unyielding, separating her from the unspeakable tragedy inside.

As the darkness began to swallow the scene, a chilling scream rang in Rylie's ears, echoing endlessly. The weight of the horror forced her awake, her breath coming in ragged gasps, tears streaming down her face.

Taking a moment to orient herself and wipe the tears from her cheeks, Rylie saw her father’s owl on the window ledge, holding a note. She slowly moved out of bed, sniffling and quickly wiping her tears as she opened the window. With trembling hands, she took the parchment. Her mother’s elegant handwriting danced across the page:

My dearest Rylie,

Hope you’re doing well. Just wanted to remind you how much I love you. I have found a beautiful house near the Potter’s. I figured you would enjoy living closer to your friends once you’re out of school. I know you must have a lot of feelings about your father and my divorce, but know that we both love you very much. I can’t wait to see you over the Christmas holiday.

Forever and always,

Mum.

The comforting words were a stark contrast to the horrific images of the nightmare. The tangible note was a reminder of the current reality, offering solace and pulling Rylie back from the abyss of her fears. She sat down, holding onto the note as if it was a life line. She took a deep breath “It was just a nightmare.. just a nightmare..” she whispered to herself. 

She quickly scrawled a note back:

Mum,

Doing great! We’re in the running to win the House Cup this year! Classes are doing okay, History of Magic has proven the best nap I’ve ever had, and I’m still passing! Love you with all of my heart and I can’t wait to see you during Christmas. And I can’t believe you got a house near the Potters! I think you may regret that the first week we’re both home. 

Love you, Please take care of yourself.

-RyRy-

She gave her dad’s owl a treat, her letter and sent him on his way. She was thankful her dad was still allowing her mom to use his owl. She made a mental note to buy her mom an owl for Christmas. 

She folded her mother’s note and placed it in the drawer of her nightstand. The images of her nightmare flashed in her brain and she gasped. She closed her eyes, forcing the images away. “Just a nightmare.”

**Three Days Later**

Rylie, Evan, and Lily stepped off the bus in the heart of the muggle village adjacent to Hogsmeade. The hum of muggle life surrounded them, an environment both Rylie and Lily were well-acquainted with, but one that was slightly more unfamiliar to Evan.

"I still find it a bit odd, using these... buses," Evan admitted, looking a tad out of place in his muggle jeans and jacket. 

Lily laughed, nudging him lightly. "You'll get used to it. Besides, it's all part of the experience."

As they neared the clinic, Rylie felt a pang of anxiety. "I haven’t been to a muggle clinic in a while..” she murmured. 

Lily tried to reassure her. "It'll be fine, Ry. They're really thorough here. My parents swear by this place."

Inside the clinic, the atmosphere was calm and professional. After filling out the necessary paperwork (which Evan found both fascinating and confusing), they were led into a private room. The doctor, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and a reassuring smile, introduced herself as Dr. Williams.

"Now, Rylie, I understand you're here for a prenatal check-up?" Dr. Williams inquired, her gaze moving between the chart and Rylie's face.

Rylie swallowed the lump in her throat. "Yes, I just want to make sure everything's okay. And, well, maybe find out the gender?"

Dr. Williams offered her a comforting smile. "Of course. Let's get started."

After a brief examination, the doctor dimmed the lights in preparation for the ultrasound. A large screen dominated one side of the room, currently blank but promising revelations. Rylie's heart raced, a blend of anxiety and excitement. As Dr. Williams applied the cool gel to Rylie's belly, Evan took Rylie's hand into his own, his grip firm yet tender.

The whir of the machine and the methodical movement of the ultrasound wand preceded the appearance of an image on the screen — a slightly grainy, fluid-filled image containing a very distinct form.

"There's your baby," Dr. Williams whispered, her voice filled with warmth. 

Rylie's heart skipped a beat as her eyes filled with tears. The tiny form on the screen, moving ever so slightly, was a very real reminder of the new life she carried within her. Evan, unfamiliar with this muggle marvel, stared at the screen with wonder, the awe evident in his wide eyes.

Dr. Williams adjusted the equipment a bit more and then pointed at a certain section of the screen. "Based on the development and from what I can see here, you're about three months along. And, if you're interested in knowing...” She looked up, meeting their anticipatory eyes, “It’s a girl."

A choked sob left Rylie's lips, a mixture of relief and joy. Evan's thumb gently stroked the back of Rylie's hand, the enormity of the news settling in. They were going to have a daughter.

Evan's voice was thick with emotion as he spoke, "A daughter. We're having a daughter, Rylie."

Rylie nodded, her voice barely above a whisper, "A little girl." She turned to look at Evan, her eyes searching his. "Do you think she'll have your eyes? Or my hair?"

Evan chuckled, brushing a tear from Rylie's cheek. "I hope she has your spirit and strength."

Dr. Williams raised an eyebrow, glancing back at her chart, "Rylie. Why did it take you so long to be seen? Don’t you have a doctor at home?"

Rylie hesitated, "It's... complicated. We've had some changes at home and... I just didn’t get around to it. But that's why I'm here now."

The doctor nodded understandingly but still wore an expression of concern. "You should be getting regular check-ups. The first few months are crucial." She then looked at Rylie, "Are you involved in any strenuous activities or sports?"

Rylie exchanged a glance with Evan before answering, "Yes, a sport...it's a bit like rugby. Is that safe?"

Dr. Williams frowned slightly. "At this stage, I would advise against any high-impact sports. The risk of injury, even if you’re careful, can be high. It's best to be cautious for the baby’s sake. Rugby, in particular, is very physical, and I would recommend avoiding it until after the pregnancy."

Reaching into her drawer, Dr. Williams pulled out a prescription pad, scribbling onto it before handing it over to Rylie. "These are prenatal vitamins. You should take them daily. And please, see a local doctor as soon as possible for your future check-ups." She stood and shook Evan’s hand and gave a nod to Rylie. “Promise me you’ll get regular check ups.” She said to Rylie. 

Rylie nodded. “Yes Ma’am.” she said as she sat up on the exam table. Dr Williams smiled and bid the three goodbye and stepped out of the room. 

Lily, who had been quietly observing from the corner, walked over to the pair. "A little girl," she whispered, hugging Rylie tightly. "I'm so happy for you both."

Rylie returned the hug smiling, though she couldn’t help the weight that also weighed heavy in her gut. She was still scared.

Evan looked at the still image frozen on the ultrasound screen. The shape of their daughter, though still developing, was clear. "It's surreal," he confessed, "seeing her like this. It makes everything... more real."

Rylie leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body against hers. "I know. But it's also comforting. She's real, Evan. She's ours."

They sat in silence for a while, lost in the wonder of the life they'd created. After a moment, Evan spoke up, "We should think of a name for her."

Rylie smiled, her mind already wandering through the myriad of possibilities. "I've always loved the name Kira."

Evan considered the name, letting it roll off his tongue. "Kira Rosier. I like it."

Rylie chuckled, "Kira Rosier. Sounds like she might just be the next Quidditch star or the brightest witch of her age."

Evan grinned, "Or both. With you as her mother, anything's possible."

She playfully nudged him. "And with you as her father, she'll have the strength to stand up to anything." There was a pause. "Or anyone."

Evan's face momentarily darkened, thinking of his own family and the choices ahead of them. "We'll protect her, Rylie. From everything."

Rylie's expression softened, understanding his concerns. She cupped his face gently, making him look at her. "Together," she whispered, emphasizing their united front.

He nodded, pressing his forehead against hers, drawing comfort from the closeness. The day's revelations hung heavily between them, but for that moment, surrounded by the hum of muggle machines and under the sterile lights, they found solace in each other's arms.

“I’m still going to play Quidditch though till I’m physically too large to sit on a broom..” Rylie muttered. 

Evan opened his mouth to disagree, but Lily shot him a look as if to say If you value your life, shut it.

To which Evan did as they made their way back to Hogwarts.

~*~

In the quiet confines of James's dorm room, James was sprawled on his bed, his head propped up with pillows as he toyed with his Snitch, making it hover and dart around occasionally. The golden glow of the late afternoon seeped through the gaps in the curtains, giving the room a warm ambiance.

A soft knock came at the door. “Come in!” James said lazily. He turned and saw Lily walk in, wearing her jeans and red sweater. 

She moved over to his bed and sat on the edge of the bed, watching the Snitch flit about for a moment before catching James's gaze. "Hey," she began.

"How did the clinic visit go?" he asked, genuine concern lacing his words.

Lily glanced over, taking a moment before responding. "Rylie's about three months along. They're having a girl."

James' eyes widened. "A girl? Blimey, that's... that's incredible." He paused, processing the information. "And, er, did the doctor say anything about... you know, her playing Quidditch?"

Lily nodded slowly, hesitating just a touch before replying. "Actually, yes. Rylie basically called it Rugby, in terms of roughness. She mentioned that Rylie might still play, as long as she's cautious. I'm not going to pretend Quidditch isn't dangerous. Hell, we've all had our share of bumps and bruises. But benching Rylie now, when she needs the game the most, it's cruel in its own way."

"It's not about benching her for the sake of it," James countered. "I'm captain, Lils. If something happens to her on that pitch... I'll never forgive myself."

Lily's green eyes softened. "You care about her, James. We all do. But the doctor did say, with precautions, she might continue. And besides, knowing Rylie, do you honestly think she'll just sit on the sidelines? She's stubborn, that one."

James chuckled, his tension visibly easing. "You don't have to tell me that. Remember the time she insisted on playing, even with that sprained wrist?"

Lily laughed, the memory vivid. "Oh, Merlin! That was a disaster."

There was a brief silence, filled with shared memories and camaraderie. James finally spoke, "Look, I just want what's best for her. And for the little one."

Lily leaned forward, placing a reassuring hand on James's shoulder. "I know you do. And she knows it too. But decisions about her playing, those should be hers. We just have to stand by her, no matter what."

James captured the Snitch, placing it back on his bedside table. "Yeah, you're right, Lils," he sighed, ruffling his already messy hair. "She's got a tough road ahead. I just hope she knows we've got her back."

Lily smiled, "She does. And so do I, always."

James reached out and wrapped his arms around Lily, pulling her down to cuddle next to him on the bed. He sighed and placed a kiss on her temple, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo. “Let’s get married and have a kid after we graduate.” He whispered. 

Lily sighed, content as she slipped her arm around his waist. “That fast eh?” she asked, smiling as her fingers played with the seam of his shirt. She truly did love James. She knew deep down he was the one for her. 

"Considering the way things are going... I don't want to waste any time," James said softly, turning his head until their eyes met. "I don't want to risk missing out on anything because we waited too long," he whispered.

Lily tilted her head closer to his and gently pressed her lips against his. The touch sent electric sensations through her body as James pulled her closer. Slowly, she leaned back, breaking the kiss as she gasped for breath. With a smile, she pressed her forehead against his. "Then let's make that happen," she whispered. "But I'm not ready to have a baby just yet." She chuckled.

James playfully waggled his eyebrows. "Are you sure? Come on, it'll be fun," he said, chuckling.

Lily shook her head and lightly smacked his chest. "Oh, Potter," she chuckled. "No." She sat up and surprised him by quickly straddling him, eliciting a small moan from James as she ground her hips against his. She smirked, slid off the bed, and stood up, straightening her sweater.

"Oh... that was... that was cruel," James pouted. He sat up and grumbled as he adjusted his pants to alleviate his discomfort. 

"I'm aware. Just think of it as something to look forward to," Lily said, giving James a wink before she left.

Chapter Text

The Great Hall of Hogwarts was buzzing with the normal Saturday morning chatter, as students from all houses gathered for breakfast. The warm aroma of freshly baked bread, eggs, bacon, and other delicacies wafted through the air, but Rylie and Evan, seated together, ate in silence. They were lost in their own thoughts, occasionally exchanging glances or smiles.

The shadows of two figures approaching their table caught Rylie's attention, and she looked up, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. It was Sirius Black, the notorious heartbreaker of Hogwarts, holding hands with Emmeline Vance, a girl known for her poise and grace.

"Morning, Rylie," Sirius greeted with his usual confidence.

Rylie blinked, her gaze shifting between their intertwined hands and their faces. "Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise? Morning, Sirius, Emmeline."

Emmeline gave a cheerful smile. "Morning, Rylie, Evan. We thought maybe you two might want to join us for a trip to Hogsmeade later?"

Evan, lifting his gaze from his plate, regarded the pair with mild curiosity. "You two are together now?"

Sirius smirked, giving Emmeline's hand a gentle squeeze. "Seems that way, doesn't it?"

Rylie chuckled. "Well, it’s about time you settled down, Black. Emmeline, you have your work cut out for you."

Emmeline laughed softly. "I think I can handle him."

The atmosphere was cordial but there was an undercurrent of tension. Sirius had always been skeptical of Evan, given his family's questionable allegiances. Their histories clashed, but seeing Evan now — simply a young man who was in love with one of his best friends— Sirius felt an internal nudge. Perhaps it was time to let past prejudices go. Every individual deserves to be seen for who they are, not the shadows of their family's past.

"Sure, Hogsmeade sounds good," Evan finally replied, breaking the momentary tension.

Sirius nodded, a hint of appreciation evident in his gray eyes. "Great. We'll meet by the entrance after breakfast."

As they departed, Rylie leaned over to Evan. "Sirius Black, settling down? Now that's a headline I never thought I'd see."

Evan grinned. "It's a year of surprises, isn't it?"

Evan continued to pick at his breakfast, his mind drifting. The Black family was renowned in the wizarding community, mostly for the wrong reasons. His own family, the Rosiers, had always been close allies of the Blacks, and their dark arts practices were intertwined through the generations.

Evan remembered the dinners where his parents and the elder Blacks would converse in hushed tones, their discussions filled with ambitions and contempt for those who didn't align with their views. It was a world he was born into, one he had known his entire life.

Sirius, on the other hand, had always been the black sheep of the Black family. While the Rosiers and most of the Blacks held onto their pure-blood supremacist beliefs, Sirius had rebelled, rejecting his family's ideals. Evan had always admired that about him, his courage to stand up against his own kin, to be different, to be better. 

Evan thought of his own journey, how he'd been trying to distance himself from his family's legacy. It wasn't just for himself; it was for Rylie and their future. He didn't want his child growing up under the shadow of the Rosier name and all its dark implications.

He looked up to find Rylie studying him. "You okay?" she asked softly.

"Yeah," he replied, taking her hand. "Just thinking about the past... and the future."

Rylie gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. 

~*~

After breakfast, the Great Hall slowly emptied as students began making their way to their respective plans for the day. Rylie and Evan, finishing their conversation, walked towards the entrance of the castle. There, as promised, stood Sirius and Emmeline, waiting patiently.

"Ready for some fun?" Emmeline asked with a gleaming smile, her dark eyes twinkling with mischief. It was clear she was excited about the day ahead.

Rylie chuckled. "Always. Lead the way!"

As the group walked towards Hogsmeade, conversation flowed freely. The air was crisp, and the familiar sights and sounds of the village drew closer. Soon enough, they reached Zonko's Joke Shop, a favorite among students. The store's windows were decorated with a multitude of trick items, everything from Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder to Dungbombs.

Inside, the store was buzzing with activity. Students from different years and houses milled about, testing products and sharing laughs. Sirius, ever the prankster, immediately went to the newest products, inspecting them with the keen interest of a connoisseur. Emmeline, while less enthusiastic than Sirius about pranks, was still enjoying herself.

While Sirius and Emmeline were engrossed with a display of Canary Creams, Evan took the opportunity to help Rylie navigate the crowded store. At one point, when a group of third-year Ravenclaws nearly bumped into her, Evan quickly wrapped an arm protectively around Rylie's waist, steering her away.

Rylie, however, seemed a bit frustrated. "Evan," she said, gently removing his arm, "I can handle a crowded shop. It's not like I'm made of glass."

Sirius, watching the exchange from a distance, raised an eyebrow. He noted the subtle way Evan had been hovering around Rylie — always ensuring she didn’t stumble, keeping a protective distance from boisterous groups. His instincts, always sharp, sensed something was amiss, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

"Everything alright?" Emmeline whispered to him, noticing his focus.

Sirius shook his head, dismissing his thoughts. "Yeah, just observing. Evan's being... overly cautious."

Emmeline followed his gaze and then smirked. "Sounds like someone's being a tad overprotective. I remember James acting the same when Lily was feeling under the weather."

Sirius chuckled. "True. But that's James. Evan's behavior just feels... different."

Emmeline shrugged, looping her arm through Sirius's. "Everyone has their quirks. Let's not overthink it."

Sirius nodded, but a part of him remained curious. The day continued, but the sight of Evan's cautious actions lingered in the back of his mind. 

The vibrant chatter amongst the students on the main street of Hogsmeade was suddenly cut short. The bustling village was teeming with Hogwarts' pupils, enjoying their weekend liberty. Sirius and Emmeline shared a joke, making Rylie chuckle while Evan wrapped an arm protectively around her.

The atmosphere changed in a heartbeat. An unnerving chill descended upon the street. The jovial conversations and laughter abruptly ceased as a dense fog rolled in, blurring visibility. Whispers of trepidation filled the air. And then, emerging from the mist, the unmistakable dark-robed figures of the Death Eaters appeared.

Their presence was immediate and menacing. Their masks gleamed ominously in the diffused light. Panic ensued and among the chaos, Evan's eyes locked onto one Death Eater — a familiar gait, a particular tilt of the head — it was unmistakably his cousin. A sudden shock of fear doused Evan and a sudden realization as he gripped Rylie’s hand. He could feel her hand in his grip tighten as well. 

"We need to get out of here," Sirius urged the group, pulling Emmeline with him.

Before they could run, green jets of light erupted from the wands of the Death Eaters, aimed directly at the group. Evan and Sirius simultaneously drew their wands, positioning themselves in a defensive stance in front of the girls. However, Rylie and Emmeline, determined not to be sidelined, brandished their own wands, retaliating with fervor.

The air was thick with tension and uncertainty. Shouts, screams, and the cacophony of dueling spells echoed through the streets of Hogsmeade. Storefronts that once held trinkets, candies, and jinxed items were shattered, with their contents spilled chaotically onto the cobblestone pathways. Innocent bystanders, caught in the fray, ducked and darted, seeking shelter wherever they could find it. The atmosphere, which had previously been filled with laughter and joviality, was now tainted with the cold grasp of fear.

Each jet of light, whether it be red, green, or a myriad of other colors, seemed like lethal threads weaving a tapestry of chaos. The once-familiar alleyways turned into terrifying mazes, where every corner might hide a new threat. Smoke rose from various parts of the town, signaling destruction or perhaps a desperate attempt by shopkeepers to obscure the vision of the attackers.

In the midst of this warzone, Evan's senses were heightened. Every shouted incantation, every streak of light, every shadow cast — it all sharpened his focus. His heart thudded loudly in his chest, adrenaline pumping furiously through his veins. The fear was palpable, an almost tangible entity that threatened to strangle his hope.

Sirius, his usually mischievous demeanor replaced by a hardened warrior's resolve, was a force to be reckoned with. Each spell he cast was done with precision, even as concern for Emmeline drove him to push his boundaries.

The girls, Rylie and Emmeline, were a testament to the strength that came from years at Hogwarts, years of training and preparing for such unforeseen events. Their determination and resilience shone brightly amidst the surrounding darkness. Rylie's green eyes were ablaze with defiance, her spells leaving trails of determination in their wake. Emmeline's conjurations, meanwhile, displayed a creativity that could only come from a pure love for the magical arts.

"Reducto!" Evan bellowed, aiming at a nearby cart, causing it to explode and momentarily creating a barrier between them and the oncoming spells.

Evan’s cousin, seeing an opportunity, sent a particularly dark curse aimed straight for Rylie. Both Evan and Sirius reacted in tandem, deflecting it with a powerful shield spell. The strength of the combined curse and shield sent a shockwave through the vicinity, knocking over a few bystanders and temporarily disrupting the Death Eaters' assault.

Rylie, showing no signs of fear, sent a stunning spell towards two approaching Death Eaters, knocking them off their feet. Meanwhile, Emmeline conjured a thick fog, obscuring their vision and giving the group a small window to escape.

Sirius, despite the din, managed to yell over the chaos. "Back to the castle! NOW!"

They didn’t need to be told twice. The quartet, still on high alert, ran in the direction of the castle. The distant sounds of reinforcements signaled that help was arriving. 

But as they ran, the weight of their situation — the sheer magnitude of the danger they were in — pressed down on Evan. The personal connection he felt, seeing a family member among the attackers, underscored the stark reality: this war was not just a clash of ideologies, but a heartbreaking conflict between families, between blood. 

~*~

The towering gates of Hogwarts loomed ahead, flanked by familiar faces. Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and a few others were hurriedly organizing students, making sure each was accounted for and no one was seriously injured. Their stern faces indicated the gravity of the situation, but also a reassuring strength that reminded every student that they were now back on safe grounds.

Upon reaching the protective boundaries of Hogwarts castle and after a quick check-in with the professors, Rylie's steps became noticeably heavy. Suddenly, she veered off to the side of the pathway, clutching a hand over her mouth. With a violent shudder, she vomited, her frame trembling from the combined strains of the day. Her already pale complexion adopted a ghastly hue, and sweat beaded on her forehead, underscoring the gravity of her state.

Evan immediately was by her side, worry evident in his gaze. "Ry? Talk to me, are you okay?" He gently asked, his hand moving instinctively to her stomach, “The baby.. is she okay?” He was terrified something had happened and he could feel his entire body vibrate from the adrenaline and fear.

Sirius, catching the gesture, felt a wave of fury wash over him. "Did you..." his voice was low, but the accusation was clear, "...get her pregnant?" Without waiting for an answer, he took two rapid strides forward, grabbing Evan by the collar, pulling him closer.

"Sirius!" Emmeline exclaimed, stepping in swiftly, placing herself between the two boys. "Now is not the time!" She glared at Sirius, her blue eyes flashing. "We've just faced Death Eaters!”

Evan, slightly breathless from the confrontation, met Sirius's gaze. "It's not what you think," he started, but then paused, reconsidering. "Or maybe it is... but right now, that's not our biggest problem. My cousin was there, Sirius. He recognized me. He recognized Rylie. They know her father is an Auror. If he reports back... I can't even bear to think what my family might do."

The gravity of Evan's statement silenced the group. The immediate danger might have been behind them, but the repercussions of the day's events had only just begun.

Sirius turned his piercing gaze to Rylie, his anger unabated but his voice taking on a desperate edge. "So, it's true then? You're pregnant? With his child?"

Rylie looked up, the weight of the day's events evident in her eyes. "Yes, Sirius. I'm pregnant." Her voice broke as she added, "I didn't tell you because I was scared. Scared of how you'd react, scared of how everyone would react..”

“Afraid of how I’ll react?” Sirius questioned.

“James threatened to curse Evan to talk like a goat for the rest of his life, soo.” Rylie said dryly, her hands rolling in the air, a clear indication that she knew deep down Sirius and James were pretty much the same damn person to which Sirius almost disagreed with till Rylie narrowed her eyes, as if to say ‘I fucking dare you.’ She took a breath and continued, “And with Evan's family... we thought the fewer people knew, the safer we'd be."

Sirius's laugh was devoid of humor. "Safe? After what just happened, you think keeping secrets makes you safe?"

Evan stepped closer, his voice firm. "We were trying to protect ourselves, Black. And our child. The world we're in right now, it's not kind to those who defy their family's expectations. My family, they have eyes and ears everywhere. One wrong word, one slip, and everything could come crashing down."

Sirius's expression was a tempest of emotions - anger, hurt, disbelief. "You should've trusted me, Rylie."

Rylie's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but her voice was resolute. "In this war, Sirius, trust is a luxury we can't always afford."

Sirius was shocked by her words, but his anger suddenly left him and was replaced with sadness. He glanced at Evan, “I’m hugging her now, don’t jinx me.” he said matter of factly. Evan responded with a hands-off gesture, signaling his acquiescence as Sirius walked up and wrapped Rylie in a tight hug. “I’m sorry you felt you couldn’t talk to us about this.” He whispered as he stepped back. He looked down to her stomach then back up to her face. “A kid, blimey Rylie.” he looked at Evan, frowning. “Who else knows?”

“Potter and Evans.” Evan whispered. 

Sirius’s face mirrored the hurt and confusion he felt. "James and Lily? But not me or Remus?"

Rylie's gaze dropped to the ground, her voice a mere whisper, "James... He made me promise a while ago that if anything happened, anything at all, that I'd tell him. And Lily... she just has a way of seeing things, figuring them out.”

Sirius closed his eyes momentarily, trying to process the weight of her confession. "And you thought it best to keep it from me?"

Rylie's voice quivered, "In a world where secrets can mean the difference between life and death, I thought the fewer who knew, the better. It wasn’t about trust, Sirius. It was about keeping everyone safe."

"By excluding me," Sirius whispered, the sharp sting of exclusion evident.

Evan stepped forward, his voice earnest, "It's not like that, Sirius. The less you knew, the less you'd be in their crosshairs. But with my cousin seeing us together today, it changes everything."

Sirius looked pained, his eyes searching Rylie's. "Not knowing, being left in the dark, that's what really stings." He paused, taking a deep breath. "We have enough secrets in this war, don't we?"

Rylie gave a nod. “I’m really sorry for keeping this from you.” Rylie whispered as Evan came up and wrapped an arm around her. 

“Rylie-” Evan started as he stepped up to her. “We really need to get you back up to the castle and I know you don’t want to, but you need to see Madam Pomfrey.” Evan urged, bracing himself for the potential backlash of suggesting it.

Rylie bit her lip and shook her head. “No.. I’m fine, let’s just.. let’s just get back to the castle please.” She whispered as she quickly wiped a tear from her cheek. She knew she couldn’t keep putting it off. Sooner or later she’s going to start showing.

Emmeline walked up to Sirius as Rylie began her walk up the hill with Evan trailing close behind. She slipped her hand into his and gave it a small squeeze. Her thoughts, however, were a tumult of emotions. She watched Sirius, noting the way his face contorted with pain, anger, and concern all in a matter of minutes. To her, Sirius was a riddle, a paradox of strength and vulnerability. The weight of the secrets he kept and the love he harbored for his friends - it was all etched into every line and crease of his face. She wondered if he felt as trapped by his lineage as Evan did by his. 

Sirius's mind was a tempest. The recent revelations tumbled around, the hurt of being kept in the dark mingling with the heavy responsibility he felt for those he cared about. As they walked, his thoughts kept circling back to Rylie's confession, the child, and Evan's fears about his family. 

Why hadn't she told him? Was it his history, his lineage? His own connection to the dark side of the wizarding world made him question his worth many times, and he wondered if it influenced the choices of those around him. He quickly pushed those thoughts aside. No. Rylie wasn’t like that. She knew Sirius wasn’t like his family. She saw past that. He felt a warm hand give him a small reassuring squeeze. Emmeline's touch was grounding, a reminder that despite the weight of his past, he had people in the present who believed in him. But the doubts never wholly vanished, lurking just beneath the surface.

A memory surfaced of James and him during their early years at Hogwarts, promising to always stand by each other, no matter what the world threw their way. Now, with an expanding circle of loved ones, the stakes were higher than ever. The weight of his family's history, the darkness of the Black lineage, it all threatened to crush him at times. But he had to be strong, not just for himself, but for everyone who relied on him.

Emmeline's voice brought him back to the present. "You okay?" she asked, concern in her eyes.

Sirius tried to muster a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah," he replied, not entirely truthful. "Just a lot to take in." He gave Emmeline’s hand a small squeeze as he leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “C’mon.. let’s go get checked out”

Emmeline nodded, leaning into him. They continued their walk, hand in hand, drawing strength from each other in the face of an uncertain future.

~*~

The dim lighting of the Gryffindor boys' dormitory bathed the room in a muted golden glow. It was a stark contrast to the storm of emotions brewing within its walls. James and Remus sat on their respective beds, unease palpable between them as they awaited Sirius's return.

The door opened with a slow, deliberate creak. Sirius stood in the doorway, looking like he had battled a storm himself. His usually vibrant hair was a tousled mess, and his eyes—those intense gray eyes—were a whirlpool of exhaustion, anger, and hurt.

"Sirius," Remus began, his voice laced with concern. "We heard about the ambush in Hogsmeade. Is everyone alright?"

Sirius nodded, the movement slow and deliberate as if he was still processing the events himself. "We're all intact," he murmured, his voice rough from suppressed emotions. "Even the baby."

James shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Sirius's piercing gaze, guilt evident in his posture. But it was Remus, ever the perceptive one, who caught onto the implication immediately. "Baby? Whose baby?" His voice was a mixture of shock and confusion, his usually calm demeanor replaced with surprise.

Sirius shot James a look, raw hurt and betrayal in his eyes. "Rylie and Evan’s… and she’s about three months," James muttered, sounding defeated, the weight of his secret now laid bare.

The hurt was evident in Remus's amber eyes. Over the years, the Marauders had been through thick and thin, sharing joys, sorrows, secrets, and above all, trust. To Remus, trust wasn't just about sharing the darkest of secrets, like his lycanthropy. It was also about sharing life's most precious moments.

He swallowed, the weight of his feelings pressing down on him, causing his voice to quaver. "Three months? And none of us knew?" The raw vulnerability in his voice was impossible to miss.

His heart ached as he slowly sat back down on his bed, not just from being kept in the dark, but from understanding why the secret was kept. In their current world of mistrust and danger, there were no simple decisions. He felt the sting of being excluded, but also the pang of empathy for Rylie's fear, James's promise, and Sirius's newfound anguish.

Torn between his own emotions and the palpable tension in the room, Remus struggled to put into words the whirlwind of feelings. The war had asked so much of them, to be stronger than they ever imagined, to hide, to fight, and sometimes, to keep secrets from those they held dearest. But he had hoped, perhaps naively, that the bond they shared as the Marauders would transcend even the gravest of circumstances.

The room seemed to constrict as Sirius's anger flared. "I thought we were family, Prongs. More than friends, brothers even. We're supposed to share our burdens, our joys. How could you keep this from me?"

James's face was a tapestry of conflict—guilt, regret, and understanding. "Rylie made me promise, Padfoot," he admitted, his voice low and earnest. "With all the danger surrounding us, she didn't want too many people to know. Especially Evan's family."

Sirius's gaze softened, the tempest within him giving way to the pain of understanding. "It's just... hard, James," he whispered, raw vulnerability replacing his earlier anger. "To know that there was something so huge happening, and I was in the dark."

James nodded, swallowing hard. "I know. And I'm sorry. I truly am."

The room's atmosphere became thick with the weight of shared pain, revelations, and the complexities of their brotherhood. Remus cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had settled like a heavy fog in the room. He glanced between James and Sirius, his amber eyes reflecting the room's soft glow and the depth of his thoughts.

"You know," he began softly, "we've all been in this war for so long, and the lines of trust and secrecy have blurred. We're constantly questioning who we can trust, and sometimes, we forget that trust starts within our family."

Sirius looked over at Remus, his brows knitted. "Moony..."

Remus continued, raising a hand to keep Sirius from interrupting, "It's not about taking sides. Both of you had your reasons, and while I too wish I had known, I understand the need for secrecy. It's a cruel reality of the times we live in."

James sighed, running a hand through his unruly hair. "I never wanted it to be like this. I just wanted to protect Rylie and the baby."

"And you did what you thought was best, Prongs," Remus replied, his tone gentle. "But so did Padfoot. He wanted to be there, to know, to share in the joy and fear. We all do."

Sirius's gaze softened, the hurt in his eyes receding slightly. "This war," he murmured, "it's taken so much from us. It's reshaped the way we think, the way we act, the secrets we keep."

Remus nodded, a melancholy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "But through it all, one thing remains unchanged – our bond. And as long as we have that, as long as we remember the essence of who we are to each other, we'll get through anything."

The heaviness in the room was palpable, the revelations about Rylie's pregnancy had already weighed on the bond that held the Marauders together. But just as they thought the air was beginning to clear, Sirius's voice, filled with an underlying tremor of dread, broke through.

"There's something else..." He began hesitantly, glancing at James, then to Remus, searching for understanding. 

James leaned forward, noting the unease in Sirius's posture. "What is it, Padfoot?"

Sirius took a deep breath, the weight of the knowledge pressing down on him. "In the midst of everything in Hogsmeade... Evan recognized one of the Death Eaters. It was his cousin." The implication of that recognition was grave, and the anxiety in Sirius’s eyes was testament to that.

Remus's gaze darkened, realizing the potential danger. "Merlin... If Evan's family finds out he's with Rylie..."

Sirius nodded gravely, "It's not just about their relationship. If they find out about the baby... It's...” He paused, struggling for words, “It's more leverage they could use against us."

James clenched his fist, anger and concern both evident. "We knew associating with Evan carried risks. But this... this changes everything."

Remus, still processing, whispered, "We need to be extra careful now. Not just for us, but for them." The thought of Rylie and Evan facing the wrath of a family as notorious as Evan's was terrifying. The stakes had just gotten impossibly higher.

Remus sighed, his brow furrowing in concern. “We should tell someone.” Remus said suddenly. Both Sirius and James gave Remus a sharp look and he shook his head “Look, Rylie's safety is paramount. Above everything else, including the trust we have. If it means she'll never speak to us again, then so be it. I'd rather have her alive and safe, and angry with us, than dead." 

Sirius looked torn, his face drawn with the weight of his thoughts. "Moony, I understand where you're coming from. But breaking her trust... it's not just about her being mad at us. It's about putting her in a position where she feels isolated. We need her to trust us so she'll come to us if something happens."

James nodded, looking solemn. "We're walking a fine line here. But we need to remember that Evan's safety is at stake as well. His family is powerful and dangerous. The implications of this could be far-reaching." 

The room grew silent as the gravity of the situation pressed down on them. The choices they made now could change the course of their friendships, and possibly their lives, forever.

“So what do we do?” Remus asked helplessly.

James collapsed into his bed and rubbed the heel of his palms to his eyes. “Let’s talk to Rylie and Evan in the morning. We’ll go from there.”

~*~

The Great Hall of Hogwarts was alive with the morning chatter of students, but at the Gryffindor table, the air was thick with the weight of the previous day's events. Despite the sunlight streaming through the enchanted windows, a shadow hung over the group of friends.

Rylie picked at her food, her eyes darting up occasionally to meet Evan's. Their hands, hidden below the table, were tightly intertwined. They drew strength from each other amidst the surrounding uncertainty. The rest of the group was caught up in quiet conversations, with only the occasional forced laugh breaking the tension.

James was anxious at the thought of confronting Rylie, insisting that she and Evan speak to the professors, or he would take matters into his own hands. James's owl swooped in, dropping the Daily Prophet in front of him. With an absent-minded pat on its head, James took the paper and began skimming the articles as he sipped his orange juice. But then his eyes caught a headline that made his heart plummet to his stomach.

MUGGLE WOMAN MURDERED IN COLD BLOOD: HEIRS OF DEATH EATER FAMILY ARRESTED

His gaze raced through the article, noting the photograph of a familiar face, Anna Kipping, smiling back at him. The details that followed were grim, and James's hands started to tremble. The culprits? Evan’s parents. Panic swelled within him, his mind racing, figuring out the best way to approach this without causing an upheaval.

Remus, noticing James's distress, leaned in, "What's wrong?"

But before James could reply, Rylie, with intuition born from years of friendship, asked, "James? What's going on? You look like you've seen a ghost."

He shook his head, trying to be nonchalant, attempting to fold the paper away. "It's nothing," he mumbled, but his tone was far from convincing.

But Rylie, swift in her movement, grabbed the paper from him, her eyes scanning for what had caused his distress. Evan leaned in, reading over her shoulder, and as the words registered, both their faces drained of color.

In the bustling Great Hall, the world suddenly reduced to just the inked words before them. Surrounding sounds seemed as if they were submerged underwater, distant and indistinct. Evan watched the color drain from Rylie's face, her hand turning white as it constricted around the newspaper. Her breaths became short and ragged, eyes scanning the words yet refusing to accept them. She was only a week away from spending Christmas break with her mother. There’s no possible way it could be her. Could there be another Anna Kipping? But the photograph tethered her to the harsh reality; her mother, radiant with joy beside her father. It was a picture taken the day her father had gotten a promotion.A drop of water landed on the paper, warping the image. Rylie was confused a moment, but then realized it was her own tears. 

The weight of shared grief pressed on Evan. He knew the dangers his family presented, but to harm Rylie's mother? The guilt was a cold vise around his heart. "Ry..." he whispered, voice laden with sorrow and regret. When he reached out, she recoiled, pain and anger electrifying the space between them. He watched Rylie stand. He quickly stood up as well, unsure how he was going to make this right. “Rylie..” he whispered again, his pain evident in his voice.

It was as if Evan saying her name made her snap. Suddenly propelled by an eruption of grief and anger, Rylie's fist found its mark on Evan. Once, twice, thrice. With every impact, Evan's thoughts echoed, 'I deserve this.' Each punch was not just a physical blow but an outpouring of Rylie's anguish, her trust fractured, her world unraveled.

James's eyes darted between the unfolding drama and the paper that started it all. The weight of his earlier silence pressing down on him. "Bloody hell," he breathed. In a heartbeat, he and Sirius were on their feet and leapt across the table, sending drinks and food everywhere. “Rylie, stop!” James cried as both he and Sirius grabbed an arm and pulled her off Evan.

Meanwhile, Remus, always the pacifier, stepped in and helped Evan regain his footing. As he handed him a fistful of napkins, Remus's amber eyes conveyed a depth of sympathy and understanding.

The Great Hall, once brimming with the usual cacophony of breakfast chatter, now lay under a hushed pall. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, whispers echoing like ripples after a stone's throw. It was clear other people read the prophet and were putting the pieces together. 

A rhythmic cadence of urgent footsteps suddenly filled the hall. Professor McGonagall, the stern Deputy Headmistress, was on them in moments. Her sharp eyes, usually scrutinizing, now held a depth of sorrow; it was clear she was aware of the grievous news. "Get Miss Kipping to my office. Rosier, you too. Immediately," she commanded with an urgency that left no room for protest.

Rylie felt a detachment from reality. Her fists ached, the sting of open cuts contrasting with the cold numbness that enveloped her heart. In a tender gesture, Lily rose, wrapping an arm around Rylie's trembling form. "I've got her," she whispered, her presence next to Rylie a solace amidst the storm. With a grateful glance, James nodded at Lily, gratitude evident in his eyes, even as they remained shadowed with the weight of recent revelations.

Sirius, the firebrand, whipped around to Evan, his eyes blazing with a mix of rage and heartache. "This is on you," he hissed, each word dripping venom, before storming out, his exit as swift as a tempest's gust.

Evan stood frozen, his face a pale canvas marred with red imprints from Rylie's punches. The weight of the entire situation bore down on him heavily. In the recesses of his mind, a thought kept echoing: 'I deserve this. She's grieving, and my parent’s caused it.' Blood slowly trickled from his nose that was most likely broken, but it wasn’t the physical pain that hurt. It was the pain in Rylie’s eyes, the accusation, and the heartbreak.

Remus placed a hand on Evan's shoulder, his grip firm but understanding. "Evan," he began softly, trying to reach the young man who seemed miles away, lost in a sea of guilt and despair. "This... isn't your fault. You can't choose your family. Sirius knows that. Just.. give him time.” 

James nodded at Remus’ words in agreement and ruffled his hair. He didn’t know how to feel, or even how to act. Anna was like a second mom to him. She was such a caring woman and she didn’t deserve this.  “You better get to McGonagall’s office.” he murmured, “I’ll walk with you.”

Evan whispered his thanks as James walked with Evan to McGonagall’s office.

~*~

McGonagall's office, a testament to her tenure at Hogwarts, was filled with countless mementos and scholarly artifacts. The room, normally warm and inviting, seemed cold and oppressive as the two students stood in the presence of their Head of House.

Rylie stood at the window, trying to steady herself as the last vestiges of sunlight cast long, foreboding shadows across the room. Evan, not daring to get too close, stood stiffly by the door, his eyes darting from Rylie to the floor and back, weighed down by a concoction of guilt, worry, and responsibility. The silence was thick, broken only by the quiet ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner.

McGonagall's usually stern face was etched with pain and sorrow, the weight of the situation evident in her every feature. She cleared her throat, then began, her voice steady yet laced with regret. "Rylie, I cannot express in words how deeply sorry I am for your loss." She paused, trying to meet Rylie's eyes, which remained fixated on the window.

Evan winced, feeling the sting of those words. Despite McGonagall not pointing fingers, he knew his family's allegiance to the Dark Lord played a significant role in the tragedy. He could barely breathe, every word a harsh reminder of the reality they now faced.

Rylie finally turned to face McGonagall, her green eyes swimming with tears but also shining with a certain resilience. "And my father?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

McGonagall sighed heavily. "We have been trying to contact him, but to no avail. He's unreachable at the moment. But the Ministry haven’t given up; we're still trying."

Rylie nodded slowly, trying to process the flood of information and emotion. 

McGonagall continued, "Given the circumstances and with winter break approaching, it's been arranged for you to stay with the Potters. Mrs. Potter has graciously agreed to take you in."

A fresh wave of tears threatened to spill from Rylie's eyes, but she fought them back, her jaw set with determination. She nodded, acknowledging the gesture. "Thank you, Professor."

McGonagall’s gaze settled on Evan, her eyes filled with a blend of empathy and firm resolve. “Mr. Rosier,” she began, her voice steady, “due to your parents’ involvement in the tragic incident concerning Mrs. Kipping, certain precautions have been deemed necessary.”

Evan swallowed hard, trying to maintain his composure. “I know they’ve been sent to Azkaban,” he whispered, pain evident in his eyes.

“Yes,” McGonagall confirmed. “Given the current circumstances, it has been decided that you will remain at Hogwarts over the winter break. The school remains one of the safest places, and it is in your best interest.”

Evan looked down, struggling with the weight of his family’s actions and the sudden isolation from them. He took a deep breath, steeling himself before meeting McGonagall’s gaze. “I understand, Professor. But I want to make one thing clear. I had no part in what they did.”

McGonagall gave a slight nod. “I believe you, Evan. And I want to assure you that you are not under any suspicion. We know that you are not your parents, nor are you bound by their actions.”

Taking a shaky breath, Evan finally spoke, "Professor, there's... there's something else you should know."

McGonagall, her stern face etched with concern, nodded for him to continue. 

"Rylie's... she's pregnant. I'm... we're expecting a child," he blurted out, his voice thick with anxiety. "I fear this... combined with today’s news, might mean expulsion for us." The room's atmosphere seemed to thicken with Evan's revelation, each word pulling with it a gravity that pressed down on their hearts.

Rylie felt a pang of panic. She could feel the walls of the room closing in. The thought of leaving the safety and familiarity of Hogwarts, especially now, was too overwhelming. She fought the urge to run, to escape this nightmare.

McGonagall, momentarily caught off guard, took a moment before responding. "Mr. Rosier, Ms. Kipping," she started with her usual firmness, looking between the two, "Hogwarts does not expel students for this reason. You both have my assurance on that."

Evan let out a shaky breath, relief mixed with myriad emotions.

The Head of Gryffindor continued, "Rylie, if you would prefer, you can stay at Hogwarts over the Christmas break as well. The castle can offer solace and you won't be alone."

Evan's chest tightened as McGonagall offered Rylie the option to stay at Hogwarts over the Christmas break. A small ember of hope flared within him at the thought – a chance for them to navigate this storm together. He clung to that hope, watching Rylie intently for her response.

Rylie's tear-filled eyes met McGonagall's, but Evan saw the determination in them before she did. As Rylie silently shook her head, refusing the offer, the little hope Evan harbored seemed to crumble, replaced by a crushing weight. He wanted to reach out, to comfort her, but the chasm between them felt deeper than ever.

Rylie's resolve to distance herself from Evan was palpable. Her breaths were measured, though shaky, a contrast to Evan's visibly trembling hands. Every second felt like an eternity, and the room's atmosphere thickened with unspoken words and unshed tears.

McGonagall, seeing the strain on both of their faces, said softly, "Take some time to heal, both of you. The next few days, weeks even, will be challenging. But remember, you're not alone. Rylie, if you change your mind about staying at Hogwarts, my door is always open. Evan, I suggest you reach out to the school counselor. They can provide guidance and support."

James hesitated at the doorway, his form casting a tall shadow against the dim lighting of the room. His tousled hair was the least of his worries now, as his gaze darted from Rylie to Evan and back to McGonagall. The rawness in his voice was palpable, "Is she okay?" He motioned towards Rylie with a nod of his head, his worry evident.

McGonagall, with her stern facade softening just a tad, gestured for him to approach. "Come in, Mr. Potter."

Stepping forward, James's hand hesitantly met Rylie's arm. There was a shared pain there, a mutual understanding of the weight of the news they'd just received. "Let's step out for a bit," he whispered, the underlying concern evident in every syllable.

Rylie's gaze met Evan's for a fleeting moment. There was a world of emotion in that glance — anger, confusion, hurt, and a hint of despair. But she said nothing. Instead, she allowed James to guide her out of the room, leaving a haunting silence in her wake.

Evan stood there, the weight of the room suddenly pressing down on him. He swallowed hard, the bitter taste of regret and sorrow mixed in his throat. "Professor," he finally uttered, his voice breaking ever so slightly, "thank you... for understanding, and not judging us too harshly."

She nodded, looking at him with a mix of sympathy and sternness. "Remember, Mr. Rosier, the choices we make now define our future. Choose wisely."

Evan nodded, taking in her words as he walked out, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Chapter Text

The ancient walls of Hogwarts were alive with the festive chatter of students, their excited voices echoing off the high ceilings as they prepared to leave for winter break. House banners swayed gently, and the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall mimicked the overcast skies, predicting snow soon.

Against this backdrop of bustling activity, Evan's eyes found Rylie standing with James by the main entrance. She was engaging in what looked like a deep conversation with him, her posture reflecting weariness. Evan took a hesitant step forward, the weight of their recent distance weighing heavily on his shoulders. As he neared, he could see the pain evident in Rylie's eyes, a stark contrast to the lively spirit he was accustomed to. "Rylie," he ventured cautiously, hoping to bridge the gap that had formed between them.

Rylie's head snapped up at the sound of his voice. Their eyes met, and in that fleeting moment, a flood of emotions surged between them. The overwhelming sensation, mixed with the recent traumas she had faced, made it all too much for her. She took a shaky breath, turned, and, without a word, walked briskly away from the entrance.

James, watching the exchange, gave Evan a sympathetic look. "Give her time, mate," he advised gently. "She's been through a lot." He paused, then added, "I'll keep an eye on her during the break. And I promise to owl you with any updates."

Evan simply nodded, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak. "Thanks, James," he managed to whisper. 

James blinked when he heard Rosier say his actual name. He gave a small nod and reached out, giving him a gentle pat of his upper arm. “She’ll be alright. My mum will make sure she eats and rests. I promise.” 

Evan felt a very small sense of relief. He felt better knowing Rylie was at least being cared for and in a safe place. “I appreciate that.” Evan said, his voice strained as he felt the lump in his throat grow. He quickly cleared his throat and gave a curt nod. “Oh..” he said, remembering something. He pulled his backpack in front of him and reached in, digging out a small box. “Can you please give this to Rylie for me on Christmas?” he said as he handed James the small box that was wrapped in bright red paper with a golden bow. 

James took the box and gave a nod as he gently placed it into his own bag. “I will.” He adjusted his bag. “Evan, try to take it easy during break.” James urged. 

“Yeah, you too, Potter.” Evan said as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets. 

As the last of the students filed out, leaving behind the vastness of the castle, Evan felt a profound sense of isolation. A blend of guilt and helplessness gnawed at him, making his heart feel as though it had been physically torn from his chest. Every step he took was heavy, laden with the agony of missed opportunities and unspoken words. The festive spirit around him seemed alien, and in the midst of all the joviality, he felt more alone than ever.

Evan walked into the Slytherin common room, noting the unusual quietness of the usually bustling space. The glowing green light from the Black Lake outside filtered into the dim room, giving it an eerie tranquility. Many students had already left for the winter break, leaving a sparse few behind.

Darius was there, lounging on one of the plush sofas, a book in hand. He looked up as Evan approached, quickly closing his book and setting it aside. His brow furrowed in concern as he observed Evan's gloomy demeanor.

Evan sank into the seat next to Darius, exhaustion evident in his every movement. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a deep sigh.

Darius, never one for small talk, got straight to the point. "Well this is just down right fucked. Did she talk to you before she left?"

Evan took a moment, his gaze fixed on the flickering fire. "No. She took one look at me and ran. She's... struggling. She won’t talk to me. Every time I try she just walks away." His voice was heavy with the weight of his own pain.

Darius frowned deeply, his usual composure slightly shaken. "What your parents did to her mother, Evan.. Let’s say it has to be a closed casket funeral. It's a nightmare no one should experience." He let out a deep sigh. "So can you blame her for shutting everyone out after that, including the person whose parents are responsible?" 

Evan lowered his gaze, pain evident in his eyes. He shook his head slowly, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "No," he whispered, "I can't."

Darius leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, creating an intimate circle of conversation. "And you? How are you holding up?" His voice held a tone of genuine concern, the rough edges softened for the sake of his friend.

Evan’s eyes darted to meet Darius's, and there was a raw intensity in his gaze, ignoring his question about how he is. "Darius, have you heard anything? Anything at all? From the Death Eaters about Rylie's dad?" Ignoring Darius’ question. His voice held a hint of desperation. "No one from the Ministry has been able to contact him and he’s been out of contact for nearly a month."

Darius searched Evan's face, his own expression turning grim. "I'm out of the loop on a lot of their dealings, Evan. But even if I knew something, you have to know how dangerous it would be for all of us if I said something?"

After a long pause, Darius gently prodded, "Evan, seriously, how are you doing?” 

Evan leaned back, his eyes veiled with a haunting mix of despair and exhaustion. The dim light of the common room seemed to accentuate the shadows playing across his features. Every moment weighed heavily on him, and amidst the maelstrom of pain and guilt, fleeting thoughts of simply ending it all drifted dangerously close to the surface of his mind. "At this point, I'm half-tempted to walk up to the Whomping Willow without a wand," he added, the corners of his mouth lifting in a bitter chuckle. The weight of his words hung in the air, palpable and chilling. 

Darius raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking up in a half-smile. "Well, you always did have a flair for the dramatic. Though, I must say, getting flattened by a tree is a rather unique exit strategy. But honestly? Not the best idea you've had."

Evan huffed a laugh, the corners of his lips turning upwards ever so slightly, appreciating his friend's candidness amidst the dire situation. Yet, his heavy, somber eyes told another story. "Just feels like everything is falling apart.”

Darius glanced at Evan and then across the dimly lit common room, his gaze settling on the flickering shadows cast by the green flames. "That’s because it is." he admitted, placing a reassuring hand on Evan's shoulder. "With the way things are going, we’re heading straight into a storm. And it's bound to get more turbulent before it gets better."

Evan gave a sardonic smirk, raising an eyebrow. "What an uplifting forecast. Remind me not to hire you as my motivational speaker."

Darius smirked in return, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Listen, I’m just being honest. This is a fucked up situation you’ve gotten yourself into, granted it’s not your fault your parents made it worse.” He sat back on the sofa. 

“Do you think my cousin told them?” Evan asked quietly.

The look in Darius’ eyes confirmed it. “It was..” he whispered. 

~*~

The sprawling Potter estate lay nestled in the lush countryside, a beacon of warmth and security amidst the uncertainty of the times. Here, Rylie found herself, albeit cloaked in a heavy veil of sadness that seemed to permeate her very essence. Once fiercely vivacious, the recent tragic events had dulled her fire, turning her spark into mere whispers.

She took solace in the vast skies, her broom carrying her above the world, where grief couldn't weigh her down. James and Sirius, ever loyal, took to the air with her. They hung back, forming silent shadows that danced across the vast horizon, ensuring she felt both freedom and the comfort of their silent companionship.

As they landed that evening, the cool winter air clinging to their jackets, the inviting light of the Potter residence beckoned them. Mrs. Potter was waiting at the doorway, her kind eyes taking in Rylie's silent form. "Hot cocoa?" she offered gently, holding a tray of steaming mugs. 

Rylie nodded, her gratitude evident in her eyes. The warmth of the drink was a stark contrast to the chill she felt inside. They settled into the living room, the soft glow from the fireplace casting comforting, dancing shadows across the walls. Rylie's mind, however, was a whirlwind of tumultuous thoughts. She remembered the stark black and white of the Daily Prophet headline, the chilling words conveying the unbearable news about her mother. The paper had slipped from her grasp, her world shattering in an instant.

Her recollection drifted to that fateful moment in the Great Hall. The visceral reaction she had upon seeing Evan, the unbridled anger and pain that had led her to lash out at him. The weight of her guilt pressed down on her; she knew, deep down, that it wasn't his fault. Yet, the undeniable connection between his family and her heartbreak made it impossible to separate the anguish from its source. Evan's face, contorted with pain and regret, haunted her. She wished she could take back that moment, to not have reacted so violently towards someone she deeply cared for. But the past was etched in stone, leaving only the present to navigate its consequences.

The weight of her father's absence felt like a physical burden on her shoulders. Every morning since the news, Rylie would glance out of the window of Gryffindor Tower, her heart caught between hope and despair, waiting for the unmistakable silhouette of an owl bearing news from her father. The sky, vast and unending, would often remain empty, its vastness mirroring the gaping hole in her heart. Each day that passed without word added another stone to the heavy weight of uncertainty she carried.

The Ministry's vague statements about his top-secret mission felt both frustrating and condescending. Their attempts at reassurance rang hollow, each utterance only serving to remind her of the great void of communication. The thought of her father, somewhere out there, possibly ignorant of the tragic loss they'd suffered, twisted a knife in her gut.

And amid this heartbreak, practical considerations loomed large. With her mother's unexpected demise, funeral arrangements had to be made. In a small act of mercy, the Ministry had stepped in, offering to handle the proceedings since her mother had no other family. A grateful relief for Rylie, allowing her a moment's reprieve from one of the countless burdens she now bore. But that relief was fleeting, as the reality set in: she'd have to face her mother's final goodbye without her father by her side, a prospect she found almost too painful to bear.

Later that night, the winter's chill outside made the inside of the house even cozier. Against this backdrop, Rylie's room felt almost otherworldly. The gentle, amber light of the solitary candle played upon the walls, turning them into a canvas of shifting, ethereal shapes. It danced and flickered, making the quiet room feel alive in its muted luminescence.

Amidst the vast expanse of the room, Rylie seemed so much smaller. Nestled within the plush comfort of her bed, she looked almost like a child seeking refuge from a nightmare. Her silhouette, curled up and vulnerable, was only broken by the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing. The outside world could just be made out through a gap in the curtains; a world that now felt impossibly distant and detached from her reality. 

A soft, tentative knock disrupted the room's serenity. James's voice, imbued with concern, hesitated for a moment before venturing, "Ry?" It was as if he was afraid to shatter the fragile peace that had settled over her. 

From deep within the nest of blankets and pillows, Rylie's voice emerged, faint and wearied but unmistakably hers. "Come in."

The wooden door opened with a soft groan, revealing James standing in the threshold. His eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light, and they landed on Rylie. The shadows in the room seemed to cling to her, emphasizing the stark contrast of her pallid skin against the dark sheets. Seeing her like this—so desolate and defeated—was like a punch to the gut. The vibrant girl, who was always the center of laughter and life, now seemed like a mere wisp of her former self.

James's heart ached as he hesitated momentarily, trying to find the right words or actions to offer solace. But sometimes, words were too frail a thing in the face of such profound sorrow. Silently, he moved closer, the soft rustling of his footsteps barely audible. He eased himself onto the bed beside her, ensuring he didn't jostle her too much and draped his arm over her, not in a restrictive manner, but rather like a protective shield, conveying a message of unwavering support. Their proximity brought with it a warmth that wasn't just physical. James's presence was the silent support she desperately needed and reminded Rylie that even amidst the tempest of her grief, she wasn't alone.

The warmth of James's embrace seemed to seep through the cold barriers Rylie had erected around herself. As if his touch ignited the raw emotions she'd been suppressing, her grief, anguish, and regret bubbled to the surface. A shiver ran through her before her body began to convulse, each sob wracking her frame with a force that spoke of deep-rooted pain. The floodgates had opened, and emotions she'd fiercely held at bay since she heard the news cascaded out in an uncontrolled torrent. 

The room, already thick with palpable sorrow, was now filled with the haunting sound of her cries. With each sob, she took sharp, ragged breaths, the sheer intensity of her grief momentarily robbing her of air. The scene was a visceral display of raw, unfiltered pain, and the weight of the loss she was enduring.

The weight of Rylie's anguish pressed heavily upon James. A tear trailed down his face, reflecting the turmoil within—a blend of sorrow for Rylie and frustration at his own inability to shield her from this devastating pain. His arm tightened around her as he buried his face in her hair in the back of her head, trying to whisper words of comfort. His free hand gripped the blanket almost instinctively, a silent plea, willing the universe to let him take on even a fraction of her suffering if it meant granting her some respite.

The muted creak of the door drew James's attention, pulling him from his internal tumult. There, framed in the doorway, stood Sirius. His usually buoyant demeanor, characterized by cocky grins and a swagger in his step, was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a mask of deep concern replaced the familiar mischief in his eyes, revealing a seldom-seen vulnerability. The palpable pain and despair emanating from Rylie's cries seemed to resonate within him, awakening a fiercely protective and almost paternal instinct that few knew he possessed.

Sirius's footsteps, normally boisterous and carefree, were hesitant and soft as he approached the bed. He settled beside Rylie, his posture gentle and unassuming, lowering himself to be on her level. With a tenderness that would surprise many who knew him only for his pranks and rebellious streak, his fingers delicately brushed through Rylie's vibrant, red hair. Each caress was like a whispered promise, an assurance that he was there for her, that she wasn't navigating this abyss of pain alone.

“Let it all out..” Sirius whispered. “It’s okay.” as he continued to run his fingers gently through her hair. 

Mrs. Potter, always the maternal figure in the lives of these young adults, appeared at the threshold, her eyes filled with sympathy and sorrow. In her hand, she held a small vial containing a shimmering liquid, its gentle glow illuminating the room's somber atmosphere. The scene before her—her son and adoptive son Sirius, both desperately trying to console Rylie—struck her deeply. She had seen much in her years, both joy and pain, but the heartbreak of young souls always tugged at her heartstrings the hardest.

"James, Sirius," she whispered softly, her voice carrying the weight of understanding as she moved closer to the bed, "give her this. It'll help soothe her and grant her a few hours of peaceful sleep."

Sirius, his hand momentarily pausing in its comforting stroke of Rylie's hair, looked up at Mrs. Potter with gratitude. "Thank you," he mouthed, fully aware of the many times Mrs. Potter had stepped in to provide guidance and solace.

James shifted slightly, allowing his mother to approach Rylie. With a motherly touch, she gently tilted Rylie's head, her thumb brushing away a stray tear. "Drink this, dear," Mrs. Potter murmured, her voice imbued with kindness and compassion. "It'll help, I promise."

As Rylie took tentative sips of the potion, the soothing effect was almost immediate. Her sobs began to subside, replaced by steadier breathing. The torment that had contorted her features began to relax, giving way to a wearied peace. She would still face her demons in the morning, but for now, thanks to the combined efforts of those who loved her, she could find a brief respite in the embrace of slumber.

As the tranquil calm settled over Rylie, Mrs. Potter watched with the kind of scrutiny only a mother could possess. The gentle rise and fall of Rylie's chest assured her that the potion had done its job. She took a moment to touch James’ arm, the one that had held Rylie so protectively. Her fingers, warm and seasoned with years of care, gave a reassuring squeeze, a silent acknowledgement of the strength he had shown.

Turning to Sirius, she gently swept her hand through his tousled hair, much like she used to do when he was younger and needed comforting. Their bond had grown over the years, with Sirius often finding solace in the Potter household, away from his own tumultuous family and now permanently since he had now officially moved in with them. "She'll be okay," she whispered, her voice a gentle caress against the weight of the silence in the room.

Before exiting, Mrs. Potter leaned down, pressing a tender kiss on Rylie’s temple—a mother's touch, full of unconditional love and a promise of better tomorrows. With a final glance at the two boys, she quietly stepped out, the soft rustle of her robes fading away.

The quiet in the room was palpable, a stark contrast to the earlier tempest of emotions. Sirius rose from his kneeling position, his fingers gently tucking the blanket around Rylie. He looked at James, his voice barely above a whisper, "You coming?"

But James, still ensconced in the warmth of Rylie's proximity, hesitated. "No... I'm going to stay here, just in case she wakes up. She shouldn’t be alone," he replied, his voice laced with a protective undertone.

Sirius frowned slightly, concern evident in his eyes. "She’ll be fine," he countered gently, "that potion your mum gave will have her sleeping soundly for at least eight hours."

James looked down at Rylie's serene face, torn between staying and leaving. With a reluctant exhale, he gently pulled away, ensuring that every movement was measured so as not to disturb her. The two boys exchanged a final, understanding look before leaving the room, the door ajar, a silent promise that they were just a call away.

~*~

The hallway leading to their rooms was dim, lit only by the faint moonlight seeping through the windows. The familiar portraits of generations of Potters adorned the walls, their occupants sleeping soundly. The wooden floorboards creaked softly under their footsteps, as James led the way, Sirius following closely behind.

As they entered James’ room, the space was filled with a mix of teenage chaos and remnants of childhood. Quidditch posters covered one wall while a shelf full of magical artifacts and trinkets from their many misadventures occupied another. There was a comfortable, lived-in feel to the room.

Sirius lingered in the doorway, the dim light painting his face with a series of complex emotions, eyes heavy with thoughts. “You reckon she’ll ever bounce back from this?” he whispered, an undercurrent of genuine worry lacing his words.

James hesitated for a moment, pausing in the act of pulling on a plain white shirt. With a sigh, he said, “I don’t know, Pads..” His voice carried the weight of the events, soft and pained. “We don’t even know what’s going on with her father. Nobody has been able to locate him and he hasn’t sent word in weeks.” The mere possibility of Mr. Kipping having met a tragic fate gnawed at him. The thought of Rylie enduring more grief seemed unbearable.

Running a hand through his unruly hair, James continued, "You know, if anything happened, Mum would adopt Rylie without a second thought." James sighed, “Mum already sees her as a daughter. Granted, she’d let her get away with murder if she had her way.” he said with a soft chuckle. The bond between Mrs. Potter and Rylie was something special. In many ways, Rylie had become the daughter Mrs. Potter never had. He didn’t blame her mum for giving Rylie so much leniency. She was in a home surrounded by boys between her husband, James and Sirius. She loved having another female in the house, even if Rylie did act like one of the boys. She had a soft spot for the redhead, often overlooking mischief that James and Sirius would have been firmly reprimanded for.

Sirius nodded in agreement, picturing the countless moments of affection and patience Mrs. Potter displayed towards the young redhead. “It really is like night and day, the way she is with Rylie versus us," he observed.

James let out a soft chuckle, “Remember that summer when we all tried to sneak into the pantry for those treacle tarts? We got caught, and you and I ended up with double chores for a week. But Rylie? She got a gentle chiding and then Mum even gave her an extra tart.”

Sirius grinned, “Yeah, and when Rylie charmed all the garden gnomes to sing at the top of their lungs? Any other day, and we'd be on de-gnoming duty for a month. But her? All she got was a laugh and a lecture about responsible spell use.”

Sirius smirked, recalling an earlier mischief, “Do you remember the ‘Glitter Bomb’ incident the summer before our third year?”

James groaned, pressing his palm to his face. “Merlin, that was... chaotic.”

They had all conspired to create a magical glitter bomb that would explode upon opening, intended for a certain group of Slytherins that had been causing trouble. However, due to a mix-up, they ended up setting it off in the living room, covering everything in shimmering dust. The glitter was everywhere - on the furniture, the carpet, even floating in the air, twinkling in the sunlight for days.

“I’ll never forget Mum’s face,” James reminisced. “She looked like she was about to breathe fire when she saw the living room. I thought for sure we'd be scrubbing floors for weeks.”

Sirius laughed, “And when she asked who was responsible, Rylie tried to take the blame, saying it was her idea.”

“Which it was, but we were all in on it,” James interjected.

Sirius grinned, “True, but Mum? She just sighed, looking at Rylie’s innocent face sparkling with glitter and said, ‘Just help clean up, dear.’ Meanwhile, you and I got the whole lecture about responsibility and setting an example!”

James chuckled, “Right? Rylie just got a gentle reminder, and we had to sit through an hour lecture from Pops. And let’s not forget the additional chore duty.”

“They always say the youngest gets away with everything, but in our case, it’s the adopted one,” Sirius said with a playful wink. Sirius paused and shook his head. “Guess I’ve reached the point where I’m just your mum’s son now.” A genuine smile spread across his face, reflecting the warmth and comfort he felt from being truly embraced by a family.

James chuckled, the tension in the room easing slightly. "You’re right. No more getting away with pranks anymore.” He smiled, his eyes floating over to a picture of the two of them laughing at a joke box in front of the Christmas tree last year, then back to Sirius. “I always tease Mum, saying she would let Rylie get away with anything, even hexing me."

A twinkle in his eye, Sirius replied, "I wouldn’t be surprised if Mum actually suggested it to Rylie once or twice, especially after one of your pranks."

“Oh I know, Mum had her dye my hair pink in my sleep after I set a dung bomb off in the kitchen last year.” James chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest. “Rylie's the daughter she never had,” James mused, a wistful smile playing on his lips. “And I can't blame Mum for being protective of her with her having to deal with us and Pops all the time. Mum’s always had a soft spot for her, and it goes beyond mere indulgence. It's genuine love.”

Sirius gave a nod as he pushed himself off the door frame, running his hands through his messy hair. “I’m going to bed. Let’s hope tomorrow is a bit easier.” Sirius said softly.

“I hope.. ‘night.” James said as Sirius left the room to his own across the hall. 

~*~

The ambiance in the Potter household was a gentle embrace of warmth, with the scents of cinnamon and roasting chestnuts wafting in the air. Sunlight peeked through the heavy curtains, its rays dancing on the golden tinsel and festive decorations. The majestic Christmas tree stood as a beacon of holiday cheer, its branches laden with ornaments and surrounded by a sea of brightly wrapped gifts.

James and Sirius, as per tradition, were the early birds. Their youthful antics typically involved sneaking treats before the gift unwrapping ceremony. However, this year, the mischief in their eyes had given way to a considerate patience. They sat together, waiting, their bond evident in the silence.

Following them was Mr. Potter, his presence always bringing a sense of steadiness to any room. "Morning, boys," he greeted, his voice a gentle rumble, his eyes filled with warmth, understanding the unsaid feelings between the trio.

Mrs. Potter appeared soon after, her festive robe swishing around her and her silver hair gleaming in the soft light. She sent a playful glare towards James and Sirius, knowing all too well their cookie-stealing antics, and with a swift flick of her wand, steaming mugs of cocoa and plates of freshly baked pastries graced the table.

The last to emerge was Rylie. Her striking red hair flowed in a graceful braid, and her demeanor, while resilient, bore the marks of recent heartaches. On seeing her, Mr. and Mrs. Potter immediately closed the distance, wrapping her in a joint embrace that spoke volumes of their shared love and support.

Gathering around the tree, the atmosphere was different this year – more poignant. Every gesture, every shared look, was laden with deeper meaning. After the initial excitement of opening gifts had subsided and the room was littered with torn wrapping paper, Mrs. Potter stood up and fetched a beautifully folded quilt from behind the couch. The intricate patchwork of various fabrics was evident even from a distance.

"Rylie," Mrs. Potter began, her voice gentle and filled with emotion, "this is for you." She handed the quilt to Rylie, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Unfolding it, Rylie's eyes widened in wonder as she recognized various scenes on each patchwork square. The time she, James, and Sirius had made a mess in the kitchen while attempting to bake; her first Quidditch match with the Potters cheering her on; and so many other cherished moments.

Touching one of the squares, she gasped softly as it came to life, showing her laughing with James as they tried to catch magical fireflies one summer evening when they were twelve years old. The faint sound of their laughter and the warm glow of the fireflies filled the room.

"It's magical," Rylie whispered, her fingers brushing over another memory.

Mrs. Potter nodded. "Each square represents a memory of your time with us. When you're feeling down or need a reminder of happier times, this quilt will be there."

Rylie was speechless, her vision blurred by tears. She pulled Mrs. Potter into a tight hug, whispering a heartfelt, "Thank you."

Mrs. Potter patted her back, her voice warm and soothing. "Every stitch is woven with love. You're part of our family, love."

Rylie stood from her place on the floor and wrapped her arms around Mrs. Potter, burying her face in her shoulder. “Thank you.” she whispered.

~*~

Rylie sat on her bed, her legs tucked under her, surrounded by an array of opened presents. The festive lights from downstairs filtered through the gaps in the door, casting a gentle glow on her room. Her fingers played with the quilt Mrs. Potter had gifted her earlier, a small smile tugging at her lips as she revisited each memory.

Her fingers traced the soft, embroidered fabric, pausing at a square depicting a younger James and Sirius dangling upside down from a broomstick with Rylie watching from the ground, faces red with laughter. She remembered that day well; James had tried to show off a new move he'd learned, and it ended with both of them nearly crashing into the Potter's old barn.

She chuckled at a stitched depiction of their misadventure in the Potter’s kitchen, where they had attempted to bake a cake for Mrs. Potter’s birthday. Flour everywhere, eggs smashed on the floor, and the cake, uneven and slightly charred, held proudly in Sirius's hand with James and Rylie trying not to laugh beside him.

Another patch showed the three of them lying on their backs in a field, staring up at a sky full of stars. That was the night they tried to identify constellations and ended up making up their own instead.

Towards the corner was a smaller square, a simple depiction of their hands joined together, symbolizing the unbreakable bond they shared. It was the day Rylie was unofficially declared a part of the family, the day she truly felt she belonged.

Each square, each memory, was a testament to the life she had built with the Potters, and the love they shared. The quilt wasn't just a blanket; it was a tapestry of shared experiences and cherished moments. Holding it close, Rylie felt the warmth of those memories seep into her, providing comfort in a time of profound grief.

A soft knock on the door interrupted her reverie. Without waiting for a response, James entered, holding a small, brightly wrapped box in his hand. "Hey," he began, hesitating momentarily as he caught her eye. "Got one more for you."

Rylie's eyebrows quirked in surprise. "From whom?"

James cleared his throat and shifted his weight. "Evan. He gave it to me just before break started and asked me to give it to you today."

A mix of emotions flooded Rylie — surprise, pain, longing. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "Okay," she whispered, extending her hand.

James handed her the box. "He really cares about you, Rylie," he said softly, watching her closely.

She unwrapped the box to find a delicate silver locket. Its surface was adorned with intricate engravings of protective runes. Opening it, she found a small inscription on the inside: *For protection and memories. Always, E.*

Rylie's fingers traced the runes, the weight of the sentiment behind the locket pressing heavily on her heart. "It's beautiful," she murmured. Rylie clutched the locket to her chest, tears forming. 

James squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "Just promise me you'll wear it, alright?” 

Rylie nodded, her throat constricting with emotion. With gentle, trembling fingers, she unclasped the chain and looped it around her neck. As the locket settled against her skin, a soft warmth radiated from it. It was as though the silver itself absorbed and stored the myriad emotions and intentions Evan had when he chose it — care, protection, and an unspoken promise.

She traced the runes once again, taking a moment to truly appreciate the intricacies of the design, each engraving a testament to the protective sentiment behind the gift. It felt as though, even miles apart, Evan was right there with her, holding her close, shielding her from the shadows that loomed. 

James observed her quietly, realizing the profound significance of this gift. It wasn't just a trinket; it was a beacon of hope, an emblem of unwavering loyalty and love. He could see in Rylie's eyes that, despite the tumultuous events surrounding them, this locket had become an anchor, grounding her amidst the storm.

Rylie's gaze lingered on the locket, her voice barely above a whisper as she said, "I don't know how I can keep going." She clutched the pendant tighter, feeling its intricate engravings against her skin. "How can I be with someone, hell even raise a child with, when every time I look at him he reminds me that it was his parents that stole my mum from me?" Her eyes welled up, the weight of her emotions nearly suffocating.

James reached out, gently placing his hand on Rylie's shoulder. His eyes, full of understanding and pain, searched hers. "Rylie," he began softly, his voice filled with an empathetic anguish, "Evan's hurting just as much. It’s not about him being a reminder. It’s about the two of you finding a way to heal together, to move forward. Yes, he's tied to a painful memory, but he's also tied to the future you both could have." He said, reaching down and placing a hand on her small bump.

She looked down, processing James's words as she covered his hand with hers. After a long pause, she sniffed, her eyes glued to the quilt that was in her lap. “I should owl him..” she sniffed, running her sleeve along her nose and slid off the bed towards the small desk on the other side of the room. She sat down and began to write. 

~*~

Christmas Day at Hogwarts was a breathtaking spectacle. The ceiling of the Great Hall, with its enchanted magic, mimicked a gentle snowfall, each flake dissolving before it could touch the students below. While the hall echoed with its vast emptiness, only a handful of students occupied its benches, as most had returned home for the festive season. 

Evan stared at his plate, pushing his food around listlessly. Darius, from across the table, observed the deepening shadows under Evan's eyes. Sleep had become a stranger to Evan, with the dark specters of his parents' actions haunting his nights. Several times, Darius had recommended seeking help from Madame Pomfrey, but Evan had always declined. To Evan, enduring this suffering was a penance, a burden he believed he ought to bear. His somber reflection was interrupted by the soft flutter of wings, and he looked up to find a small brown owl alighting on the table, extending its leg towards him.

He reached out and untied the parchment from the owl. It gave a chirp, bounced up to his plate, reached out with one of its talons and grabbed a large piece of sausage that was comically larger than the poor thing. Evan couldn’t hide his amusement as the bird began to flap its wings, struggling with the sausage briefly before its other talon gripped the stolen food and flew off. 

Darius watched the entire exchange in amusement. “Bold bird.” He chuckled before shoving a fork full of potatoes in his mouth. 

“I wasn’t hungry anyway.” Evan said nonchalantly. He unrolled the parchment, his heart pounding in his chest as he recognized the writing. 

Rylie’s handwriting. 

His breath hitched as his eyes scanned the words.

“Evan,

James gave me your gift. It’s beautiful. Thank you. 

Kira and I are okay. 

-Rylie”

Evan’s fingers lightly brushing over the familiar, delicate script. The note was succinct, but after almost two weeks of aching silence, its presence was monumental. His chest tightened, a blend of hope and anxiety, as he read and reread the words, savoring each one. He then folded the note and slid it into his back pocket. 

Darius, who had been silently observing next to him, finally broke the silence. “Was that Rylie’s owl?” he inquired.

Evan nodded, taking a moment to find his voice. "It was." The weight in his eyes was unmistakable. He clutched the note, thinking of all the unsaid words and the distance that had grown between them. But now, there was a glimmer of hope. "Maybe," he hesitated, "maybe when she returns, we can finally talk."

Darius studied his friend for a moment, taking in the vulnerability that Evan so rarely showed. He leaned back, running a hand through his dark hair. "You know, Rosier, sometimes I forget that beneath that tough exterior of yours, there's an actual heart beating."

Evan managed a small chuckle, "And sometimes I forget that you can be a sentimental git." He sighed, thinking back to the note in his back pocket. The few lines written on it seemed to hold the weight of the world. "I just wish... I wish I could've protected her from all this. That none of it had to touch her.” He started to stand up, brushing a few stray crumbs from his house sweater. “At least she’s safe at the Potter’s.”

Darius gave a nod turning his face down to look at the table, his face darkening at Evan’s statement. 

Evan tilted his head at the look. “What?”

Darius shook his head. “Nothing.” he said quickly as he grabbed his goblet, bringing it to his lips.

Evan raised an eyebrow, clearly catching the unusual tension in his friend's behavior. "Darius, that wasn't nothing."

Darius avoided eye contact, his fingers nervously playing with the goblet's edge. "It's nothing you need to concern yourself with. Not right now."

Evan's eyes narrowed slightly, feeling that there was more to this than what Darius was letting on. "You said that last time and Rylie’s mum ended up dead. I thought we were in this together? If there's something I need to know—"

Darius abruptly stood up, his voice taking on an edge of desperation. "Just stop, Evan. For once, just stop.”

Evan was taken aback, not used to seeing Darius so riled up. "Why? What aren't you telling me? Is Rylie safe or not?!”

Darius exhaled, his face betraying a storm of emotions. For a moment, he looked every bit as vulnerable as the young student he was. "For now, she's safe at the Potters'. But Evan," he hesitated, glancing around to ensure they weren’t being overheard, "things are changing. The wind's shifting, and there are whispers."

Evan's confusion morphed into frustration. "Whispers? What whispers? Darius, if you know something, you need to tell me. This isn’t just about us anymore; there’s a child involved.”

Darius's gaze settled intently on Evan, his eyes filled with a combination of fear and determination. "I wish I could tell you everything, Evan. But right now, it’s too dangerous. For both of us. All I know is things are ramping up, and the Death Eaters are becoming bolder by the day. Rylie being at the Potters' might not be as safe as we think in the long run."

"Then what do we do?" Evan asked, his voice shaking with a mix of anger and fear. 

Darius rubbed his temples, clearly struggling with the weight of his own secrets. "For now, we lay low. Be careful of who we trust. And you," Darius pointed a stern finger at Evan’s chest, "need to be particularly cautious. Don’t draw unnecessary attention."

Darius hesitated, the dim light from the enchanted ceiling glinting off his wary eyes. He looked around the Great Hall, ensuring that their conversation remained unnoticed amidst the clatter of plates and distant chatter. "It's... It's not that simple, Evan," he continued, his voice trembling ever so slightly.

Evan's gaze never left his friend. "It is. We've been through too much together. We can't start hiding things from each other now, especially when it involves Rylie's safety,” he hesitated, taking a breath “my daughter’s safety."

Darius let out a sigh, running a hand through his dark hair. "It's dangerous, Evan. What I've heard, the things I'm... privy to. I don’t want to drag you into this any more than you already are."

"Darius," Evan said firmly, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, "You're not dragging me into anything. I’m already in the thick of it, same as you. If there's information that can help us, I need to know."

Taking a deep breath, Darius finally nodded, albeit reluctantly. "Alright. I'll try. I'll do my best to keep you informed. But we need to be discreet. More than ever." 

Evan managed a small, thankful smile. "That's all I ask.”

~*~

The familiar chugging sound of the Hogwarts Express echoed through the countryside as the train sped back towards the school. Inside one of the compartments, the light-hearted atmosphere was palpable despite the underlying tension. Rylie sat between James and Sirius, Remus on her other side, each deep in their own thoughts, though conversation occasionally drifted to less dire topics.

Rylie's fingers played absentmindedly with the locket she wore, a gift that bound her to memories, hopes, and fears. It had become an integral part of her, a weight both comforting and heavy.

Sirius leaned in with a smirk, "Heard a little birdy tell me Ravenclaw's scouting a new Chaser. Might make the pitch a tad more interesting this term."

Rylie chuckled, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Oh, that new Chaser? A well-aimed bludger will make quick work of them. They won't know what hit them."

James shot her a brief, unreadable glance. On the surface, he nodded in agreement with Rylie's assertion. However, deep down, a swirl of conflicting emotions tugged at him. He had been contemplating benching Rylie for the remainder of the season, concerned for her safety and mental state. It was a thought he hadn't shared with anyone, not even Sirius and Remus. The question lingering in his mind was how he could broach the topic without causing more heartache.

Remus interjected, lightening the mood, "Always do, especially with you two leading the charge.”

Rylie, eager to shift the topic from more pressing concerns, chimed in, "Speaking of tricks, I've been brainstorming a particularly fun one for Filch." Both boys leaned in, interest piqued, while Remus simply sighed, already anticipating the fallout.

As the train continued on its journey, their conversation, filled with quidditch strategies and prank ideas, provided a brief respite from the reality awaiting them at Hogwarts.

~*~

The great doors of Hogwarts stood open as students began pouring into the castle. The warm light from the chandeliers illuminated the grand entrance hall, bathing everyone in its glow. Standing slightly apart from the throng, Evan's eyes darted from face to face, searching for Rylie.

He spotted her as she approached the main entrance, flanked by James and Sirius with Remus bringing up the rear. The locket around her neck caught the light, drawing his attention immediately. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the inevitable reunion.

Rylie felt a familiar gaze upon her and looked up to find Evan waiting by the entrance. The sight of him gave her a flurry of emotions; relief, resentment, love, and pain all at once.

She approached him cautiously, their steps mirroring the hesitancy of their relationship. When they finally met, the world seemed to stop. Evan, sensing her unease, took a cautious step closer and enveloped her in a gentle embrace. Rylie stiffened momentarily but then leaned into his comfort, her walls slightly lower. Rylie slowly pulled away, torn between wanting to stay in his arms or run.

The space between Evan and Rylie was more than just physical. It was a chasm filled with hurt, misunderstandings, and moments lost. Their reunion, anticipated for weeks, now had a shadow cast upon it. Evan's gaze was pleading, filled with yearning as he softly said, "I've missed you."

Caught in the gravity of his words, Rylie met his eyes, her voice layered with both warmth and wariness, "I’ve missed you too."

Lily approached them, her demeanor gentle. "Rylie," she offered, a hint of solace in her voice, "would you like to walk to the dorm together?"

A thankful glint appeared in Rylie's eyes. "That sounds good, Lily. Thanks."

Hoping to reconnect, even if just a little, Evan ventured, "Can we talk, Rylie? Sometime later?"

She looked into the depths of his eyes, hesitated for a brief moment, and finally nodded. "Yeah.., later."

As she left with Lily, James approached Evan, his footsteps echoing the weight of the recent past. Without a word, he fell into step beside him. "How was she at your place, James?" Evan hesitantly asked. The corridors echoed with the fading conversations of students reuniting, but to Evan, the world had narrowed down to James and the few words that might shed light on Rylie's state of mind.

James ran a hand through his disheveled hair, looking weary. "It was rough, especially that first day. She tried to put on a brave face, but by evening, the weight of everything hit her hard. She barely touched her food, and she had a full on panic attack in her room." He shut his eyes, haunted by the echoes of her cries—sounds he prayed he'd never hear again.

Evan's heart clenched at the image, but he said nothing, prompting James to continue.

"Thank God for Mum. She came to her aid, gave her a potion to help her sleep," James said, his voice tinged with gratitude. "But you know Rylie. She's resilient. Slowly, she began to bounce back, at least a little. Spending time with Mum and Pop helped too I think. We all tried to distract her, pull her into our pranks and planning. I think it made a difference."

Evan nodded, the tightness in his chest loosening slightly. "Thanks, James. For everything."

James clapped a supportive hand on Evan's shoulder. "She loves you, mate. Just... give her time."

Evan paused at the top of the stairs leading down to the dungeons, the cool, muted light casting shadows across his face. He turned back, "Keep me updated?" There was a raw vulnerability in his voice, a plea hidden beneath the casual question.

James, gazing into Evan's tormented eyes, felt a deep pang of empathy. The weight of Evan's guilt – the painful reality that his own parents were responsible for the loss of Rylie's mother – was something James couldn't fully comprehend. But he would stand by his friend. "Of course," he replied.

Evan's eyes met James's for a moment longer, searching for some semblance of comfort or reassurance. With a deep exhale, he turned and began his descent into the dungeons, every step heavier than the last.

~*~

The four-poster beds, draped with the emblematic Gryffindor red and gold, dominated the girls' dormitory. After the welcome back feast and the catching up with random students and friends, Rylie finally found comfort in the seclusion of her room. As the early evening light filtered through the windows, Rylie, Lily, and Emmeline settled in, unpacking their belongings. The winter break had been eventful, and the girls were engrossed in sharing snippets of their holidays.

Lily was in the midst of showing off a necklace when Rylie gently unfolded a meticulously crafted quilt. The array of patches shimmered with vibrant colors, each narrating a distinct memory.

Emmeline, setting aside her own unpacking, looked on in admiration. "That's truly lovely. Mrs. Potter's handiwork?"

Rylie nodded, a hint of melancholy in her smile. "Yeah. Each patch is a memory.” 

Lily pointed at a patch that depicted a silhouette of three boys and a girl sitting around a campfire. "This looks familiar."

Rylie's eyes lit up, "That was the camping trip last summer. James, Sirius, Remus, and I. We tried to roast marshmallows, but Sirius nearly set the woods on fire."

Emmeline chuckled, "Sounds like him."

Another square showcased a vibrant image of a rollercoaster, with four tiny figures holding hands. Rylie reminisced, “I convinced the boys to try that Muggle amusement park. They were all skeptical at first, especially Sirius, but it turned out to be one of the best days ever."

Lily grinned, "James never stops talking about that day."

The next patch had a beach scene, with the silhouette of two figures—clearly James and Rylie—building a sandcastle while Sirius and Remus tried to hold back the tide with childish determination.

The memories, stitched in fabric, seemed to bridge the gap between the past and the present for Rylie. The warmth of those moments served as a comforting balm, if only for a little while.

A gentle peck on the window brought Rylie out of her thoughts. She felt her heart stop in her chest and she quickly rushed to the window, praying it was her father’s owl. As she threw open the window, a rush of cold wind hit her face and a magnificent black Great Horned owl perched momentarily on the sill. It was immediately clear to Rylie that it wasn’t her father's owl; this was Evan's.

As quickly as it arrived, the owl extended its leg, letting Rylie pluck the note, and then soared away into the evening sky.

Emmeline's voice cut through the quiet of the room, "Who was that? I've never seen that owl before."

"It's Evan’s," Rylie admitted in a hushed tone, the weight of disappointment evident.

With gentle steps, Lily and Emmeline came closer. Rylie unfolded the note, her fingers brushing against the fine parchment.

The words were few but the message clear, 

"Meet me at our spot in an hour. -Evan."

“Are you going to go?” Lily asked.

Rylie stayed silent for a moment, holding the note in her hand. She gave a small nod, turned and started to change into her gray fleece pajama pants and oversized t-shirt that had the Holyhead Harpies logo on it. She slipped her bare feet into her slippers. 

“If you see James, let him know that I’m at the Room of Requirement..” Rylie said to Lily as she pulled her sweatshirt on. 

Lily nodded as she watched Rylie leave the tower.

~*~

Evan, tucked away in a secluded alcove near the Room of Requirement, nervously twirled his wand between his fingers. Every so often, he'd let out a small burst of colorful sparks that danced momentarily on the floor before fading away. The subtle flicker of light briefly illuminated the anxious creases on his face.

He felt the weight of the conversation ahead pressing on him, causing him to get up abruptly. He started to pace, the stone floor echoing his measured steps. As he walked, Evan silently rehearsed the words he wanted to say, playing out possible scenarios in his mind. He so desperately wanted to find the right way to approach things, to heal the fractures in their relationship.

He paused, leaning against the stone wall, taking a deep breath to center himself. Each tick of the distant clock seemed to echo louder and louder in the silence, amplifying his anxiety as he awaited Rylie's arrival.

Rylie took hesitant steps down the hallway, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the ends of her sweatshirt. She went over and over in her mind what she wanted to say to Evan, trying to find the words that would bridge the growing chasm between them. With every step, her heart raced faster, torn between the ache of recent events and the deep love she still felt for him.

As she neared the alcove, she caught sight of Evan, standing there lost in thought. She felt a rush of emotion, a maelstrom of love, fear, and uncertainty. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still.

The familiar wooden door of the Room of Requirement materialized beside them, slowly creaking open to reveal a cozy chamber. Warmth emanated from a crackling fireplace set in the middle of one wall, its glow casting dancing shadows. A plush bed with dark blue covers was nestled in one corner, and a soft, inviting sofa sat in front of the fireplace.

Almost instinctively, they stepped into the room together, the weight of the atmosphere pulling them closer. They stopped a few feet from each other, and in a moment of simultaneous vulnerability, both murmured, "I'm sorry."

Evan's voice quivered as he continued, "Rylie, I can't even begin to understand the pain my parents caused, and I'm so, so sorry. Please forgive me."

The raw pain in Evan's voice resonated with Rylie. While her heart was still heavy with grief, she saw the torment in his eyes and realized that they were both victims of circumstances beyond their control. Unable to bear the weight of the moment any longer, she leaned in, pressing her lips to his in a powerful kiss. She poured everything into that kiss. Her love, her pain, her soul. 

Evan’s eyes widened in shock when he felt her lips crash against his, but he made no move to stop her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up, his lips still working against hers as he brought her over to the bed. He laid her down and crawled onto the bed next to her, wrapping her up in his arm in a protective grip, afraid if he were to let go he’d lose her forever. His face was buried in the crook of her neck, his breath tickling her skin when he spoke,  “I love you, Rylie… so much… I was so scared I lost you, both of you….” he whispered as his hand came to rest on her small bump.

Rylie felt as if her heart jumped into her throat when she heard those three little words. Her hand slid down to the hand on her bump and she tangled her fingers into his. “I love you too, Evan..” she whispered. Evan slowly pulled away, locking his eyes with hers. He pushed himself up onto his side and reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “I was so scared I lost you too..” she whispered, a tear escaping the corner of her eye.

Evan gently brushed the tear from her cheek. “You can never lose me.” he whispered as he pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “You stole my soul, you have my heart, you have me, fully.” he whispered as he moved his lips down to hers. 

Rylie's eyes filled with an unspoken emotion, a mixture of love and fear that mirrored his own. She returned his kiss with equal intensity, her hands moving to cradle his face. "And you have me, Evan," she replied, “You have us..” she said, barely above a whisper. Her eyes softened when she saw a single tear slide down his cheek. She slid her thumb gently across his skin, catching his lone tear and brushing it away. Her chest tightened, their shared love and pain intertwined and tangled together. 

Evan's heart pounded in his chest as he took in her words. The reality of it all finally sinking in. He was going to be a father. They were going to be parents. He pushed himself up, resting on his elbows as he looked down at her, his eyes shining with a thousand unspoken promises.

"Promise me, Rylie... promise me that no matter what, we'll face everything together," he whispered, his voice shaky with the weight of his emotions.

Rylie nodded, her hand reaching up to touch his face. "I promise, Evan...we'll face it all together. You, me, and our baby," she murmured, her voice filled with determination.

In that moment, Evan felt a sense of peace wash over him. Knowing that he had Rylie by his side, knowing that they were in this together, gave him the strength he needed. He pressed his lips to hers once more, a promise of his own. Their kiss deepened, their lips melding together in a passionate dance. Evan's hands roamed over Rylie's body, his touch igniting a trail of fire wherever it landed. Their bodies moved with a rhythm born out of love and desire, their connection growing stronger with every passing second. He traced his fingertips along the curves of her body, savoring the softness of her skin beneath his touch. Rylie arched her back, silently urging him to explore further.

Their clothes were shed with an urgency that matched their desire, revealing their nakedness to each other. The room was filled with a heady mix of anticipation and vulnerability as they lay before one another, exposed and open.

Evan lowered himself onto Rylie, their bodies aligning perfectly. He kissed her passionately, his lips moving from her mouth to her neck, trailing a path of fiery kisses along her collarbone. Rylie's fingers tangled in Evan's hair as she let out a soft moan, her body responding to his every touch.

With a tender touch, Evan began to explore Rylie's body, his hands caressing every inch, memorizing the curves and dips. He worshipped her with his touch, his lips following the path his hands had taken. He kissed the hollow of her throat, the swell of her breasts, and the tender flesh of her stomach.

A soft gasp escaped Rylie's lips as Evan's mouth found her most intimate places. His tongue moved with purpose, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. Rylie's fingers dug into the sheets as she surrendered herself fully to the ecstasy that consumed her.

Evan's own desire was palpable as he positioned himself above Rylie, his eyes locked with hers. They moved together, their bodies merging in an intimate dance of love and passion. With each thrust, they found solace in each other, a connection that transcended the physical. Their moans mingled in the air, a symphony of pleasure and desire. They moved in perfect harmony, their bodies attuned to each other's needs. Time slipped away as they lost themselves in the intensity of their lovemaking, their souls intertwining as they reached new heights of pleasure.

As they finally succumbed to the waves of ecstasy, their bodies trembled in unison. They clung to each other, their hearts pounding in their chests, as they basked in the aftermath of their love. Their breathing gradually slowed, but their bodies remained entwined, their connection unbroken.

They lay together, their bodies glistening with a sheen of sweat, their limbs tangled in a beautiful mess of love and fulfillment. Their eyes met once again, and a tender smile graced their lips. In that moment, they knew that their love was a force that could weather any storm, and they were ready to face the world, hand in hand.

Chapter Text

The library was eerily silent, save for the rustling of Evan's Daily Prophet and the ticking of the ancient clock on the wall. The headline glared back at him, stark and unyielding:

Rosiers to Stand Trial for the Horrifying Murder of Muggle Anna Kipping

By: Melinda Whitfield

LONDON - The notorious Rosier couple, Isolde and Alaric Rosier, long suspected of allegiance with the dark forces, will stand trial at the Ministry of Magic tomorrow for the shocking murder of muggle Anna Kipping, former wife of respected high-ranking Auror Nathan Kipping and beloved mother to Hogwarts student Rylie Kipping.

Anna Kipping, known in her muggle community for her dedication to environmental causes and her philanthropic work, was found dead in her residence last month under deeply alarming circumstances. An investigation by the Auror office unveiled the involvement of the Rosiers, who have since been detained in high-security cells awaiting trial.

The fact that Anna was a muggle has intensified the horror surrounding the crime, raising significant concerns about the motives behind targeting someone outside the magical community. Many speculate that the act was a direct attack on Nathan Kipping for his relentless efforts in suppressing Death Eater activities, thereby sending a chilling message about their reach.

Evidence against the Rosiers is reported to be overwhelming. Numerous dark artifacts were discovered at their residence, coupled with incriminating correspondence pointing to their active involvement with the Death Eaters.

The trial promises to draw eyes from all quarters of the magical realm. Not just because of the gruesome nature of the murder but also due to the presence of their son, Evan Rosier, a current student at Hogwarts. Evan, with no known ties to the dark arts or any illicit activities, is now grappling with immense scrutiny from the school community and the general public.

Eldritch Diggory, the Head of the Wizengamot, commented, "Justice will prevail. No matter the victim's background, the Ministry will ensure a thorough and impartial trial."

The proceedings are set to begin tomorrow morning at 10 AM. Stay with the Daily Prophet for regular updates on this high-profile case.

Evan's hands trembled slightly, his eyes scanning the article that detailed his parents' alleged crimes and the impact it had on the wizarding community. The image attached showed them being led into the Ministry, faces void of emotion.

He was so engrossed in the article that he didn't notice Darius approaching until the other boy's voice broke through his thoughts. "Saw the headlines," Darius said softly, glancing at the paper. "Tough, isn't it?"

Evan looked up, meeting Darius's gaze. "They sent me a letter last week," he confessed, voice barely above a whisper. "Said that it's time I consider my 'legacy', that the Dark Lord offers power and purpose."

Darius grimaced. "My parents have been hinting at the same. Saying it's a matter of 'family honor' to serve him. To be honest, I'm not sure I have much of a choice." The two shared a weighted silence, the burden of family expectations pressing down on them. Darius leaned in, eyes searching Evan's. "Are you attending the trial?"

Evan exhaled slowly. "I have to." The very thought filled him with a dread he couldn't quite articulate. 

Darius studied Evan's face, noticing the pallor of his skin and the dark circles under his eyes, indicators of the immense weight of the situation. "You think it'll give you closure?"

Evan met his gaze, but his eyes held a far-off look, as though he was seeing into the past or maybe an uncertain future. "I don’t know about closure, but it's a step I need to take. Facing it. Facing them."

Evan's mind wandered back to his childhood. He remembered grand dinner parties filled with laughter and whispered conversations, clandestine meetings in dimly lit rooms, and a house that was immaculate but always felt cold. Yet, there were moments - fleeting but real - where his parents had shown genuine affection towards him. Moments of warmth amidst the iciness. Those memories clashed painfully with the image of them as merciless Death Eaters.

Evan recalled a particular memory when he was just seven. It was late at night, and he had woken from a nightmare. He crept into his parents' room, expecting a reprimand. Instead, his mother, surprisingly gentle, pulled him into bed, while his father told tales of bravery and valor till Evan's eyelids grew heavy.

Or the time when he'd fallen off his broom during his first flying lesson. His mother's face had been a mask of worry, her usual stern facade crumbling as she rushed to his side. His father, though always the disciplinarian, had gripped his hand tightly, ensuring Evan felt his presence and support.

But then, there were also darker times. Whispered conversations he wasn't supposed to hear, secret gatherings with masked individuals, and the day his parents gifted him with a dark mark pendant, hinting at the legacy they expected him to uphold. 

The duality of it all was mind-boggling. How could the same hands that soothed his fears and wiped his tears be the same hands stained with the blood of innocent lives? 

Shaking himself from the reverie, he turned to Darius. "It's complicated, isn't it? Wanting to separate the parents you knew from the monsters the world sees."

Darius shrugged, running a hand through his messy hair. "Look, Evan, our parents did some messed up stuff. Doesn’t mean we have to, right?"

Evan looked down, tracing the grain of the wooden table. "It's just... everything's so tangled up. My family's legacy, their choices... It's hard to feel like you can truly escape it."

Darius leaned back in his chair, eyeing Evan thoughtfully. "Everyone's got baggage. Yours is just... messier than most." He chuckled lightly, trying to break the heavy mood. "But seriously, you're your own person. I mean, look at you and Rylie. Who would've thought a Rosier and a Kipping could be so close, especially given... well, everything."

Evan's gaze hardened. "It's complicated. But she's the one good thing that's come out of this entire mess."

Darius sighed. "Life's a madhouse, mate. But at the end of the day, we choose our path. Doesn't matter if our families laid down the bricks, we decide which ones to walk on."

Evan smirked, "That's deep for you, Darius."

Darius grinned, "Every now and then, I surprise myself.”

Before Evan could delve further into his thoughts the librarian walked up to them with a hushed urgency. Her gaze met Evan's, and her voice carried a mix of concern and formality.

"Evan," she said softly, her voice tinged with sympathy. "Dumbledore is looking for you. He wishes to speak with you immediately."

Evan's heart skipped a beat, his unease deepening. The mention of Dumbledore's request, coupled with the turmoil his family was currently facing, sent a shiver down his spine. His mind raced with questions and apprehensions, unsure of what awaited him in the headmaster's office. A knot formed in Evan's stomach as he stood up, his eyes meeting Darius's with a mixture of anxiety and uncertainty. Darius, sensing Evan's unease, gave him a reassuring nod, silently conveying his support.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Evan mustered a weak smile for his friend. "Thanks, Darius. I'll see you later."

Darius returned the smile, his eyes reflecting understanding and empathy. "Anytime, mate."

~*~

Evan hesitated for a moment before knocking lightly on the door, feeling the familiar flutter of nervousness despite having been summoned to Dumbledore's office numerous times in the past. A gentle "come in" beckoned him inside.

The circular room was bathed in a soft glow, emanating from the numerous magical instruments and the ever-present Phoenix, Fawkes, who trilled a soft note upon Evan's entry. The room had a reassuring and calming aura, which was the hallmark of Dumbledore's presence.

Dumbledore was seated behind his desk, his half-moon glasses settled low on his nose, blue eyes keenly observing Evan. "Ah, Mr. Rosier. Please, sit."

Evan took the offered seat, his hands clasped together in an attempt to hide his nervousness. The headmaster's gaze had a way of making one feel exposed, but not in a threatening way - it was more like he had an innate ability to see right through to one's core.

"I trust you've been keeping well?" Dumbledore began, a gentle note of concern in his voice.

Evan nodded, hesitating for a moment before speaking. "It's been...difficult, sir. With the trial, and the baby..."

Dumbledore nodded understandingly. "These are trying times, Mr. Rosier. But it's important to remember that you're not alone."

Evan took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts. "I wanted to thank you, Professor. For not expelling Rylie and me. We...we appreciate the chance you've given us."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, the familiar warm smile playing on his lips. "Every young person deserves a chance, Evan. It's not the mistakes we make but how we recover from them that truly defines our character."

Evan met the headmaster's gaze, feeling a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. "It's just... my parents. Everything they've done. It feels like a shadow that won't leave."

Dumbledore leaned back, steepling his fingers. "Our family history, the actions of our ancestors or even our immediate kin, do not dictate our personal destinies. You have the power to shape your own future, Evan. And from what I've seen, it is a future of great promise."

The door to the office opened, revealing the rotund figure of Professor Horace Slughorn. Clad in his velvet-trimmed robes, he had an air of importance about him, but his usual jovial demeanor was toned down. Recognizing the gravity of the situation, his voice was more subdued than Evan had ever heard.

“Albus,” Slughorn greeted with a respectful nod, before turning his attention to Evan. “Evan, my boy. I thought you might appreciate a familiar face to accompany you to your parent’s trial today.”

Evan blinked, taken aback. Though he was a member of the Slug Club and had attended numerous gatherings at Slughorn’s behest, he never expected the Potions Master to offer such a gesture.

“I thought you could use some support,” Slughorn added, a little awkwardly, rubbing his hands together. “These trials can be… trying, to say the least. And given your unique position in this particular case, I wanted to be there for you.”

Dumbledore, watching the interaction, nodded in approval. “I believe this is a kind offer, Evan. Professor Slughorn has attended many such trials and knows the ins and outs of the Wizengamot chambers. He can offer guidance and, more importantly, a comforting presence.”

Evan swallowed, the weight of the day pressing down on him. But with gratitude in his voice, he whispered, “Thank you, Professor.”

“Of course, my boy,” Slughorn responded, offering a small, genuine smile. “Now, shall we?”

Evan stood, adjusting his robes. Dumbledore's eyes bore into him with a mixture of empathy and encouragement. "Remember, Evan," the Headmaster began, his voice soft yet carrying an underlying firmness, "no matter what happens today, the choices we make define us more than our past ever will."

Evan nodded, clutching the armrest of the chair from where he stood to steady himself for a fleeting moment before releasing it. "Thank you, Professor Dumbledore."

Slughorn, seeing the young man's discomfort, clapped him gently on the back. "Chin up, Evan. I've been to my fair share of these trials. The process can be daunting, but you have strength in you. We'll get through it together."

Evan met Slughorn's gaze, seeing genuine concern in the professor's eyes. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him. The journey from the castle to the Ministry would be short, but the anticipation of what awaited him made every step feel heavy.

As they navigated the serpentine corridors of Hogwarts, the morning routines of students ground to a halt. An intense hush, punctuated only by furtive whispers, permeated the hallways. Eyes, some filled with genuine pity and others bearing the stark glint of morbid curiosity, trailed Evan's every move. But he forged ahead, steeling himself against the weight of the gazes, trying to insulate himself from the pressure building within.

From the throngs of students, a familiar silhouette gently emerged. Rylie. The hesitancy in her steps was palpable, each footfall an embodiment of the conflicting emotions she grappled with. As she drew closer to Evan, the dichotomy of her feelings became more evident: there was a pained hope in her eyes, simultaneously longing for justice for her mother and aching at the sight of Evan's palpable despair.

Their worlds briefly converged, their surroundings blurring into insignificance. As Rylie reached up, tenderly holding Evan's face, their eyes locked, each seeking refuge in the other's gaze amidst the chaos of their shared reality. No words were needed, and none were spoken. Rylie gently pressed her lips to Evan's forehead, a silent gesture imbued with sorrow, hope, understanding, and a depth of emotion that was both beautiful and heart-wrenching. Drawing back, they shared one last lingering glance, communicating the depth of their shared pain and the rift that had formed between them due to circumstances beyond their control.

Professor Slughorn, standing a few paces away, had silently observed their exchange. Even he, with all his years and experience, seemed momentarily lost for words, his usually jovial expression replaced by one of solemnity. The lines on his face seemed to deepen, bearing witness to the profound impact of their silent farewell.

Clearing his throat, Slughorn finally broke the silence, grounding them back to their grim reality. "I've arranged for a special Portkey to take us directly to the Ministry. The Wizengamot wanted to ensure there were no... distractions on our way."

He produced a tarnished silver teaspoon, holding it out for Evan to touch. As their fingers made contact with the object, there was a familiar tug from behind their navel, and the world around them blurred.

Moments later, they found themselves in the bustling atrium of the Ministry of Magic. The grandeur of the place, with its golden statues and tiled floor, was momentarily lost on Evan. All he could think about was the upcoming trial. They moved swiftly, Slughorn leading the way, making small talk in an attempt to distract Evan from the impending proceedings. The Potions Master's familiarity with the Ministry staff was evident, as they were quickly ushered through without any delays.

Before they knew it, they stood outside the grand doors leading to the courtroom. Evan's heartbeat echoed in his ears. Taking one last deep breath, he stepped forward, the doors opening before him, revealing the Wizengamot chamber and the trial that awaited.

The vast chamber of the Wizengamot buzzed with low murmurs and whispers, the gravity of the trial palpable. The grand stone benches were filled with Ministry officials, Wizengamot members, and spectators keen to witness the outcome of such a high-profile case. The enchanted ceiling above them emanated a soft, otherworldly light that cast the room in an ethereal glow.

Evan, accompanied by Professor Slughorn, stepped into the chamber, his heart pounding loudly in his chest. As they made their way towards the seating reserved for family, he could feel the weight of countless eyes upon him. Whispers reached his ears, some filled with pity, others with disdain, as the crowd recognized him as the son of the accused. Behind the magical barrier, his parents, Isolde and Alaric Rosier, emanated an unnerving calm. Their regal statures remained untouched by the room's palpable tension, and their inscrutable expressions were a maze he couldn't navigate. As their gaze intersected his, a storm of emotions brewed inside him: anger, sorrow, and a deep-seated confusion.

"Evan," Slughorn's voice, gentle yet insistent, guided him, "ground yourself. Remember why you are here."

The trial's commencement was methodical. Each witness was summoned, and their memories were extracted and presented to the court via the Pensieve.

The room sank into a hushed stillness, broken only by the muted swirls of the Pensieve. The memory presented a familiar scene — Anna Kipping's home, nestled in a Muggle neighborhood. She was seen approaching her front door, her arms laden with grocery bags, a soft smile playing on her lips, perhaps recalling a light-hearted exchange with a neighbor or a vendor.

But the serenity was short-lived. As she reached for her door, a chilling gust of wind seemed to sweep the scene. From the periphery, the dark silhouettes of Isolde and Alaric Rosier materialized. Their robes, stark against the soft hues of twilight, bore the weight of their malevolent intent. Their faces, though masked, held a sinister gleam that was unmistakable.

Anna paused, sensing the looming danger. Her grocery bags toppled, items scattering across her front porch. Those vibrant blue eyes, once filled with everyday joys, now darted frantically, seeking a way out. But escape seemed impossible as the Rosiers advanced with relentless determination.

Isolde leaned in, her voice a whispered venom, uttering words that were indiscernible but no doubt filled with malice. Anna's reaction was palpable: a mix of recognition and dread. Her connection to the wizarding world through her ex-husband, Nathan Kipping, had inadvertently entangled her in its darkest corners.

In a heart-wrenching moment, suspended in time, Alaric Rosier raised his wand. The curse he invoked was swift, merciless. Anna's body, robbed of its vitality, slumped lifelessly on her doorstep.

The weight of the unveiled memory pressed down on the courtroom. There it was, displayed for all—the cold-blooded extermination of Anna Kipping, a Muggle unsuspectingly caught in the crosshairs of a deeper vendetta.

Evan felt as if a vice was tightening around his chest. The harrowing memory of Anna's unjust demise imprinted on his mind, and he struggled mightily to keep his emotions in check, his knuckles white from gripping the armrest.

During a brief recess, Slughorn leaned closer. "I know this is difficult, Evan. But remember, this is their trial, not yours. Separate their deeds from your identity."

The defense's arguments centered on questioning the legitimacy of the evidence and the bias of certain witnesses. Despite the gravity of the accusations, Evan's parents remained eerily silent throughout, neither defending themselves vocally nor challenging the presented evidence.

Evan's mind wandered to Rylie, and he felt a pang of gratitude knowing she wasn't amidst the crowd in the vast chamber. It was a small mercy that she had remained at Hogwarts, spared from witnessing the deeply disturbing memories laid bare for all to see.

Hours felt like days, but eventually, the closing arguments were presented, and the Wizengamot members withdrew to deliberate. The tension in the room was palpable. Conversations resumed, speculations were made, and predictions were whispered.

Feeling a gentle touch on his arm, Evan turned to see Slughorn offering him a comforting look. "No matter the verdict," the wise old professor murmured, "remember that you are not defined by their choices."

The chamber grew silent as the Wizengamot members returned, signaling the announcement of the verdict. All eyes turned to the Chief Warlock, who stood, paper in hand, ready to declare the fate of Evan's parents.

The silence in the chamber was palpable as the Chief Warlock cleared his throat. Evan could hear the rapid thudding of his own heart, and he squeezed his hands into fists to steady himself. Slughorn put a reassuring hand on his arm.

"The Wizengamot has reached a unanimous decision regarding the charges against Alaric and Isolde Rosier," the Chief Warlock began, his voice echoing in the vast chamber. "In the case of the murder of Anna Kipping, a defenseless Muggle, we find the defendants, Alaric and Isolde Rosier... guilty on all counts." A ripple of murmurs spread through the room. Some spectators nodded in agreement, while others whispered amongst themselves, processing the weight of the verdict.

Evan felt a sharp pain in his chest, a mix of relief and sorrow. Relief because justice had been served for Rylie and her mother, and sorrow because, despite everything, they were still his parents. Their faces remained impassive, not a hint of emotion showing, even as their fate was sealed.

"The severity of their crime and their total lack of remorse warrant the highest penalty," the Chief Warlock continued. "Mr. and Mrs. Rosier are hereby sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban without the possibility of parole."

Evan's vision blurred momentarily as the weight of those words sank in. His parents would be spending the rest of their lives in the notorious prison, surrounded by the soul-sucking Dementors.

As the magical barrier around his parents solidified, preparing to transport them directly to Azkaban, Evan locked eyes with his mother. For a brief moment, he saw a glimmer of something in her eyes – perhaps regret or sadness, but it vanished as quickly as it came.

The chamber began to empty, with reporters rushing out, undoubtedly eager to relay the news to the wizarding world. Slughorn stood up, looking down at Evan. "Come, my boy. Let's leave this place."

Evan nodded, taking one last look at the now-empty defendants' seats. The trial might have concluded, but the journey ahead – of healing, acceptance, and finding his own path – was just beginning.

As Evan and Slughorn made their way towards the exit of the courtroom, a swarm of reporters from various wizarding publications descended upon them, quills and parchment at the ready. The flashing of magical camera bulbs briefly blinded Evan as he tried to navigate his way through the crowd.

"Evan Rosier! How does it feel knowing your parents will spend their life in Azkaban?" called out a reporter from the Daily Prophet.

"Is it true you're dating Rylie Kipping, the daughter of the woman your parents murdered?" Another one chimed in, her voice dripping with fake sympathy.

"Do you feel any guilt or responsibility for your parents' actions? Do you support their views?" Another yelled.

Evan's face turned pale, feeling cornered and overwhelmed. The barrage of questions, the accusatory tones, and the ever-present camera flashes threatened to consume him.

Slughorn, sensing Evan's distress, stepped in front of him, shielding him from the press. "Enough!" he boomed, his voice echoing in the hallway. "The boy has been through enough today. No comments. Respect his privacy."

A reporter from Witch Weekly tried to slip past Slughorn, raising her quill, "Just one statement, Mr. Rosier?"

But Slughorn's stern gaze and imposing presence deterred any further attempts. "Away with you! This isn't the time nor place."

Evan muttered a quiet "Thank you, Professor," his voice shaking.

Slughorn glanced down at him with a look of understanding. "Let's get you out of here, Evan."

With a protective arm around Evan, Slughorn navigated through the sea of reporters, ensuring Evan was shielded from their invasive questions and prying eyes.

~*~

The dimly lit hallways of Hogwarts stood in stark contrast to the noisy clamor of the Great Hall. Evan's footsteps echoed dully, his eyes vacant, still processing the overwhelming events of the day. The ever-present buzz of the student body had turned into an unbearable roar after his return, their whispers sharp and accusatory. As he entered the Great Hall, his weary eyes met Rylie's across the room, and an unspoken understanding passed between them.

Rylie's heart ached as she took in his pallor, the visible weight of the trial etched into the lines of his face. She rose from her seat, moving swiftly to meet him. Without a word, she pulled him into an embrace, her body trembling slightly. His presence, however, felt different—colder, more distant. 

She felt him stiffen momentarily before relaxing into her hold, the dam of his emotions threatening to break. Drawing back, she took his hand, leading him away from the prying eyes and whispered conversations. Every stare, every whisper was a tangible wound, and Rylie could feel Evan's distress intensifying with every step.

They made their way to the Room of Requirement, and as the door materialized, Rylie glanced back at Evan, the weight of her own conflicting emotions evident in her eyes. As they entered, the room had transformed into a soft-lit sanctuary, its ambiance offering a brief respite.

No words were exchanged as Evan sank to the floor, the floodgates of his suppressed anguish finally opening. Tears streamed down his face, each one representing the battle between the love for his parents and the harsh reality of their actions. Rylie, feeling the pull of her own emotional turmoil, sank down beside him. The complexity of her grief was palpable—relief for the justice served for her mother, yet heartbreak for Evan's pain.

Time seemed to stand still as the two of them sat in the room, wrapped up in their shared agony. No words were needed; their silent presence was comfort enough. The burden of the day and the looming challenges ahead were momentarily forgotten as they lost themselves in the embrace of the room and each other.

After what felt like hours, Evan's sobs began to subside. His eyes, red-rimmed and swollen, looked up at Rylie. The weight of everything that had transpired was evident in their depths, but there was also a glimmer of gratitude. Gratitude for her being there, for understanding the complexity of his emotions, for not judging him.

Rylie brushed away a stray tear from Evan's cheek with her thumb, her touch gentle and comforting. She too was trying to navigate the labyrinth of her feelings. On one hand, she wanted to scream and rage at the injustice of it all, but on the other, she wanted to pull Evan close and shield him from the world. She leaned in, resting her forehead against his, creating a small bubble of solace in a world that felt so chaotic. "We'll get through this," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Evan nodded, drawing in a shaky breath. "Together," he murmured in response.

They sat like that for a while longer, drawing strength from each other. The magnitude of the ordeal they had been through was evident, and while the road ahead was uncertain, there was a silent promise between them — to face it side by side.

Rylie, sensing the sheer exhaustion emanating from Evan, gently stood up and took his hand. Leading him towards a plush, inviting bed that the Room of Requirement had produced, she softly motioned for him to sit.  With the delicate care one reserves for the profoundly wounded, she helped him unbutton his shirt, revealing the weight of the day's events etched on his weary face. A pair of soft, warm pajamas, seemingly conjured by the room itself for this very moment, awaited him. 

With Rylie's gentle touch guiding him, Evan changed into the pajamas, every movement showing the strain of the emotional toll the day had taken on him. Once dressed, he sat on the edge of the bed, seemingly a million miles away. With a gentleness that belied the tumultuous emotions churning within her, guided him to lie down. Slipping in behind him, she drew him close, wrapping her arms around him protectively, her body curling around his in a comforting embrace. 

Her fingers tenderly ran through his hair, her touch offering solace and understanding. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice soft and lulling, "You're safe here, with me. We'll face it all together." Their heartbeats syncopated, the rhythm of shared pain and hope, as they drifted into a deep, restorative sleep.

~*~

The morning light filtering through the castle windows did little to lift the somber mood surrounding Evan and Rylie as they stepped out of the Room of Requirement. The air was thick with tension, and the faint hum of activity emanating from the Great Hall seemed worlds away as they began to make their way down the hall to their first morning class.

From the shadows, Michael, the tall Slytherin with an ever-present smug smirk, stepped forward, flanked by a couple of his followers, cutting off their path. "Well, well, the traitor and his dirty half-breed lover," he spat with venom. His eyes locked onto Evan's. "Heard about your parents' trial. Must be a real family tradition, slaughtering muggles. Maybe you’ll pick up the mantle?"

Evan's eyes darkened, his every muscle tensed, but he said nothing, unwilling to give Michael the satisfaction of a reaction.

But Michael wasn't done. He turned to Rylie, his cruel eyes narrowing further. "And you, sweetheart," he sneered, "Bet you’re in a real bind. Celebrating justice for your pathetic muggle mother, yet bedding the son of her killers? Quite the tragic love story. How does it feel to lie beside the spawn of those who ended her?"

The silence that had settled in the hallway was suddenly shattered by Michael's biting words. The collective gasp from the surrounding students seemed to hang in the air, as all eyes turned once more to Rylie. The cruelty of his words was like a physical blow, and the venom behind them was evident to everyone present.

Michael leaned in slightly, savoring the impact of his words. "And what will you tell that child? That its grandparents were murderers, or will you weave a pretty little lie to shield it from the truth?"

Rylie's cheeks turned a deep shade of crimson, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. The mention of her mother was a painful enough barb, but to bring up the unborn child she and Evan were expecting was crossing a line she never imagined anyone would. The vulnerability she felt was palpable, her normally strong facade faltering for the briefest of moments.

Evan's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and pain. The protective fire that had been there moments before now blazed even more fiercely. He stepped forward, positioning himself between Michael and Rylie as if to shield her from any further cruelty. The corridor seemed to close in, the walls pressing, as a captive audience of students began to gather, forming a half-circle around the unfolding confrontation. The murmurs grew louder, and the atmosphere became increasingly charged.

Evan's voice, cold and lethal, cut through the thick air, "Say whatever you want about me, but leave her out of it."

Michael's cackle echoed through the corridor, a sound that seemed to send shivers down the spines of all those present. "Or what, Rosier?" he spat, voice dripping with venom, "You'll send a hex my way? Or perhaps unleash some dark family curse? Much like what your parents did to her pitiful muggle mother?" He gestured mockingly at Rylie. The laughter of his sycophantic friends further heightened the tension, making the atmosphere almost unbearable.

Rylie's face, already pale from the confrontation, drained of further color. But there was a fire in her eyes, a fierce mixture of rage, pain, and defiance. Her fingers tightened around her wand, every ounce of her being itching to retaliate.

However, she didn't need to. A group of Gryffindors, having overheard the commotion, quickly stepped forward. Their wands were drawn, the tip of each glowing menacingly. Their united front was a clear message — Michael's tormenting had crossed a line.

But Michael, always one to have the last word, leaned in closer, his voice dripping with disdain. "Just a parting thought, Rylie," he sneered, "Whenever you look into Evan's eyes, remember you're staring into the very eyes of killers. How's that for romance?"

Before the situation could escalate further, Sirius and Emmeline were there, closing ranks around Evan and Rylie. Their expressions were those of fierce protectiveness, wands brandished with clear intent.

Sirius, eyes blazing and voice cold as ice, growled, "Enough of your vile taunts, Michael. You might think your words are brave, but we see right through you. Leave now, or you'll find out just how much you've underestimated us."

Michael, recognizing that he was now significantly outnumbered, and perhaps pushing his luck, glanced around with a smug smirk. "Just speaking the truth," he drawled, voice dripping with fake sweetness. "Best of luck with your little... situation." With a mocking salute to Sirius and a final smirk in Evan and Rylie's direction, he and his cronies beat a hasty retreat.

Emmeline, taking in the shaken expressions of Evan and Rylie, wrapped her arm around Rylie's shoulders, trying to offer some semblance of comfort. "Ignore him, Rylie," she whispered softly, though the rage in her eyes betrayed her gentle tone.

The immediate aftermath was a cacophony of hushed voices, the gathered crowd processing what they'd just witnessed. James, who'd been alerted by the commotion, now made his way to the scene, joined by Lily and Remus.

"What the hell happened?" James demanded, looking around and trying to piece together the events from the expressions of those present.

Sirius, his anger still very evident, briefly recounted Michael's cruel words, his voice filled with disgust. Lily's hand flew to her mouth in shock, her eyes immediately seeking out Rylie.

Rylie, feeling the weight of many eyes on her, took a deep breath. "Let's just go, we’re gonna be late for class." she whispered, her voice quivering with restrained emotion.

Evan gave a curt nod and slid his hands into hers, giving it a small squeeze as they began their silent walk to class.

~*~

Unfortunately, the next class they had was with the Slytherins, so it unfortunately did not give Rylie and Evan the reprieve from Michael as they would have liked. 

Professor Flitwick, substituting for the regular professor for this lesson, stands at the front with a gentle but serious demeanor. The blackboard behind him reads: The Patronus Charm: A Shield Against the Dark.

Flitwick begins with a brief lecture. "The Patronus Charm, class, is one of the most powerful defensive charms known to the wizarding world. It's a reflection of one's very soul and the embodiment of their happiest memories. Remember, it's not just about casting the spell but truly feeling and reliving your happiest memory."

He then demonstrates by casting his own Patronus, a small, lively dolphin that leaps and dances around the room, bringing smiles and gasps of wonder.

As students begin to attempt the charm, ethereal wisp-like shapes start forming for some, while others struggle, their wands only emitting faint puffs of silver smoke.

Evan hesitated. The weight of recent events is clear on his face. Flitwick approaches and gently suggests, "Mr. Rosier, perhaps you'd like to give it a try?"

With a deep breath, Evan stood, focusing hard. He delved into his memories, searching for a happy one. He finds a memory of his parents on a rare family vacation, laughing and playing with him as a child. The love and warmth from that day washed over him.

"E-expecto Patronum!" Evan shouts, pouring all his emotions into the spell. For a brief moment, a shimmering form begins to emerge, hinting at a majestic creature, but it quickly dissipates into silvery mist, unable to fully form. Disheartened, he dropped his arm, trying to blink away the sudden moisture in his eyes. 

A few desks away, Rylie was also struggling. While she had managed to conjure her swan Patronus once, the memory she'd used before was now tinged with the recent complications in their lives, making the charm less potent.

The swan emerged again, but its form isn’t as stable. It flew over to Evan, hovering briefly as if in an attempt to shield him, before it too faded away. Rylie's expression is one of frustration mixed with a touch of sadness.

Michael smirked. "Looks like some memories are too tainted to produce a proper Patronus," he commented snidely to a fellow Slytherin, loud enough for most to hear. 

Flitwick quickly intervened. "The Patronus charm," he explains with a pointed look at Michael, "is advanced magic, requiring more than just skill. Emotions, memories, and current mental states play a huge role. There's no shame in not producing a full Patronus on the first try."

The room's atmosphere thickened as other students looked between Rylie, Evan, and Michael, sensing an impending duel. But Michael, smirking, decides to twist the knife deeper. "You two are quite the pair. Neither can summon a memory happy enough. Or is it the weight of family sins holding you back, Evan?"

Evan's grip on his wand tightened, his jaw clenching. He was at the breaking point, but Rylie stepped closer to him, her hand finding his. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, silently willing him to calm down.

The professor, sensing the rising tension, steps in. "That's enough. The point of this lesson is practice and support, not mockery. Ten points from Slytherin, Michael. Everyone, continue."

Michael scoffed, rolling his eyes, but said nothing more, knowing better than to push the professor further.

The atmosphere in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was thick with tension, but the professor's intervention had quelled the immediate threat. Evan kept his focus on his wand, repeating the incantation in his mind, willing a corporeal Patronus to appear. Rylie, beside him, mirrored his efforts, her beautiful swan trying to take form again.

But the remaining minutes of the class were a blur for both of them. Whispers and hushed conversations echoed around the room, the events with Michael casting a long shadow. The bell finally rang, signaling the end of the lesson. Students began packing up their things, their voices gradually increasing in volume as they discussed their plans for the evening, or critiqued each other's attempts at the charm.

Evan and Rylie were among the last to leave. He packed his things slowly, avoiding eye contact with anyone, while she stood protectively by his side, offering silent support.

As they reached the door, Professor Flitwick called out, "Mr. Rosier, Miss. Kipping, a moment, please."

They exchanged a glance before approaching the professor's desk. "I just wanted to say," the professor began, looking at them with a mix of sympathy and sternness, "that it's crucial, especially in these trying times, to find strength within yourselves. Don't let the likes of Michael deter you. Focus on your growth and your journey."

Evan nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Thank you, Professor," Rylie replied, her voice soft.

~*~

The weekend arrived, mercifully free from any further altercations with Michael. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. In a bid to introduce a semblance of normalcy and light-heartedness amidst the whirlwind that had become Evan and Rylie's life, Lily proposed a jaunt to Hogsmeade. The enchanting village of Hogsmeade gleamed, its snow-covered pathways shimmering under the soft winter sun. The jubilant chatter and laughter of Hogwarts students filled the air, a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere back at the castle. For Evan and Rylie, it promised a much-needed sanctuary.

Rylie hesitated at the entrance of the village, a flash of the previous unpleasant encounter crossing her mind. Evan, noticing her apprehension, took her hand reassuringly. "Hey, it'll be different this time," he said softly, trying to convince himself as much as her. "We have Lily and James with us. Nothing's going to go wrong."

Lily, overhearing their conversation, added with a cheerful grin, "And if anyone tries anything, they'll have to answer to James and his trusty wand!"

James, feigning a proud stance, declared, "No one messes with Prongs!" eliciting a chuckle from Evan and a playful roll of eyes from Lily.

The quartet strolled into The Three Broomsticks, immediately embraced by its inviting warmth. The ambient noise of jovial conversations, the gentle luminance of the magical lanterns, and the unmistakable aroma of butterbeer created an atmosphere that was both comforting and merry.

They settled into a snug corner, the wooden booth cushioning them as they got comfortable. With large mugs of butterbeer in hand, complete with their frothy tops and the steam curling up like mystical tendrils, the atmosphere was ripe for nostalgia.

James began, recounting a hilarious incident from his first year. "Remember when Sirius and I tried to enchant that statue of the one-eyed witch to give us advice on girls?" He said, laughing at the memory. "Turns out, it only gave us advice on proper statue cleaning techniques."

Lily chimed in, "Oh, speaking of enchantments, there was this one time Alice and I tried to create our own beauty potion. Let’s just say, we ended up looking like a pair of moon-faced elves for a week."

Rylie, smiling at the fond memories, recalled a time when she was a child. "I once tried to fashion a broom from branches, thinking it might actually fly. I ended up running downhill, convinced I was airborne for all of three seconds before I took a grand tumble. My parents had quite the laugh at my expense, but they made sure I was alright before they continued chuckling."

Evan hesitated slightly, then with a wistful smile recounted, "Once, I attempted a vocal charm on our family cat, hoping she'd speak. Instead, she sang opera non-stop. My parents were caught between amusement and frustration, particularly since she developed a penchant for midnight arias." 

A brief, heavy silence fell upon the group at the mention of Evan's parents. Rylie gently squeezed Evan's hand in understanding. Sensing the need to alleviate the tension, Lily brightly interjected, "Well, if she ever decides on a career change, Evan, I reckon the wizarding world has never had an opera-singing cat. Could be a hit at The Leaky Cauldron!" The comment earned a genuine chuckle from the group, and the mood lightened once more.

As they regaled each other with tales, interspersing their stories with rounds of Exploding Snap that led to many fits of giggles and mock exasperation, a playful debate about the prowess of different Quidditch teams arose. The group playfully argued over their favorite teams, with Lily staunchly defending the Holyhead Harpies and James backing the Puddlemere United.

The shared laughter and light-hearted tales were a balm, weaving a temporary cocoon of normalcy around them, shielding them from the harsh realities outside.

Every once in a while, Evan's protective gaze would scan the room, but there were no signs of Michael or any potential trouble. It seemed that for once, they were going to have an enjoyable, uneventful visit to Hogsmeade.

As dusk approached, the four decided to step out, the atmosphere having relaxed them. Lily and Rylie were now laughing about some mishap in a recent Charms class, while James and Evan discussed the upcoming Quidditch match.

“You’re going to bench her, right?” Evan asked quietly, looking over his shoulder, seeing the girls were trailing behind and not within ear shot.

James glanced to Evan, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. “I want to..” his voice trailed as he took a deep sigh and kicked some snow as they walked past the Owl Post. “But she’s stubborn. You know that.” 

“Just.. try for me. Maybe I can try to convince her as well.” he said thoughtfully, though knowing full well how well that’d go over.

James let out a small laugh and shook his head. “Oh mate, if there’s one thing you should know about Rylie is that her stubbornness and fiery disposition is not something you want to mess around with.” He looked at Evan and smiled. “First year, mind you, she had this ongoing feud with Peeves. Yeah, the poltergeist himself. Rylie was adamant about keeping her belongings neat and orderly. One day, Peeves decided it would be funny to flip her books and inkwell all over the place right before class."

Lily’s voice was laughing behind them when she chimed in. "Oh, I remember that! But instead of getting mad or walking away like the rest of us would, Rylie stood her ground. She made a wager with Peeves: if she could best him at a game of his choice, he'd leave her stuff—and only her stuff—alone for the rest of the year."

Evan's eyes widened. "You're joking, right? Taking on Peeves in a game is like... like challenging a dragon to a breathing contest!"

James smirked, "Precisely. But our dear Rylie, being ever so stubborn, went through with it. Peeves chose a game where she had to find and retrieve a specific item from the castle within an hour, while he played all his tricks to hinder her."

Lily added, "It was pure chaos. Floating furniture, corridors switching places, staircases leading to nowhere..."

Evan quirked a brown and looked to Rylie who had just joined in the conversation, smiled at him while nodding. “Wait, I remember that day!” he laughed at the memory of a young 11 year old fiery redhead, running down the hall screaming obscenities at Peeve’s.

James nodded, "Yet, with minutes to spare, Rylie managed to retrieve the item. Peeves was absolutely miffed. True to his word, though begrudgingly, he never tampered with her stuff again. Well, at least for the rest of that year." He winked at Evan. "So, if you ever wonder why Peeves gives Rylie a slightly wider berth than the rest of us, now you know."

Rylie shrugged, a cheeky grin on her face. "I told him I'm not one to be messed with."

Evan looked at Rylie with a mix of awe and amusement. "I knew you were feisty, but challenging Peeves in your first year? That's legendary. No wonder you have this aura of... invincibility around you."

Rylie blushed slightly, taking a sip of her butterbeer. "It's not invincibility. Just a bit of stubbornness, and maybe a dash of Gryffindor bravery. Or recklessness. Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference."

Lily laughed, "Oh, it's definitely both. Remember the time she challenged Professor Flitwick to a duel when she thought he marked her Charms essay wrongly?"

James chortled, "That was a sight! Tiny Flitwick and even tinier first-year Rylie, wands at the ready in the middle of the classroom."

Rylie rolled her eyes. "Okay, okay! Let's not revisit all my questionable decisions from the past. We're here to have fun, remember?"

James grinned, playfully nudging Evan and slowing his step just a bit till the girls started walking ahead of them. "Just be prepared, mate. With Rylie, life's never going to be dull."

Evan smiled. "Wouldn't have it any other way." He watched the girls take the lead and glanced back at James. “So no matter what we try to say, she won’t sit out..” he said softly but matter of factly. 

James' smile slowly slid from his face, looking more pensive. “We can try, but don’t expect much.” he said. 

Evan sighed, his gaze lingering on Rylie as she animatedly described something to Lily. "It's just... everything that's been happening, the trial, the whispers, the threats... I don't want her caught in the crossfire because of me."

James put a comforting hand on Evan's shoulder, his voice earnest. "She knows the risks, Evan. And if there's one thing I've learned about Rylie over the years, it's that she never backs down from a challenge. Not for Peeves, not for Flitwick, and certainly not for anyone who might threaten you or your relationship."

Evan nodded slowly, still watching Rylie. "I just wish she'd be a bit more cautious, for her own safety."

James smirked, "That's the thing about loving a Gryffindor, mate. We rush into danger, wands blazing, with no regard for our own well-being. But remember this: she does it out of love for you, and that's the kind of bravery you can't put a leash on."

Evan cracked a smile, appreciating James's words. "I guess you're right. Just wish I could protect her from all of this."

James clapped Evan on the back, leading him to catch up with the girls. "That's the spirit of a true partner. Just remember, you're both in this together, and you’ve got us.” He said as he motioned to Lily and himself. “Listen, I know we didn’t get off on the right foot, mate, but you really do make Rylie happy. I know it certainly doesn’t seem like it now, but.. I’ve known her since we were just kids, and I’ve never seen her look at anybody, even me, the way that she looks at you.” 

He glanced over at James, eyes widening a bit, taking in the sincerity in James's gaze. The street lamps of Hogsmeade illuminated their path, casting a soft glow on the surrounding snow-covered buildings. The moment was tranquil, broken only by the distant sounds of other students laughing and talking.

"You know, James," Evan began, choosing his words carefully, "I wasn't sure how to take you at first either. With all that's happened, with everything that surrounds my family, I was surprised anyone would want to be in the same room as me, let alone be friends."

James chuckled, "Mate, it's Hogwarts. We've got a poltergeist, ghosts, and all sorts of weird creatures. I think we can handle a bit of family drama."

Evan smirked, "Putting it that way does make it sound a bit trivial."

James shrugged, "Life's too short for grudges, especially in our world. Rylie sees something in you, and if she trusts you, that's good enough for me."

Evan nodded, grateful for the understanding. "Thanks, James. It means a lot, truly."

"Just looking out for my friend, and now you too," James grinned, offering Evan a mischievous wink. The two of them caught up with Lily and Rylie, who were now standing outside Honeydukes, giggling at something. 

As the group continued their Hogsmeade adventure, Evan felt a weight lifting from his shoulders. With friends like these, he realized, they could face anything.

Chapter Text

The cold morning air was thick with anticipation as Evan and Rylie made their way down to the Quidditch pitch. The excitement of the upcoming final match was evident in the throngs of students bustling about, eager to get the best seats in the stands. But despite the festive atmosphere, there was an underlying tension between Evan and Rylie.

Evan pulled her aside just before they reached the entrance to the pitch. "Ry," he began, his voice filled with concern, "are you sure about this? Maybe you should sit this one out."

Rylie took a deep breath, her grip on her broomstick tightening. "I've been preparing for this match for weeks, Evan. I can't let the team down."

"It's not about the team," Evan countered, searching her eyes for any sign of doubt. "It's about you, and our baby."

Rylie gently touched Evan's face, trying to reassure him. "I promise I'll be careful. I've played Quidditch in worse conditions and come out just fine. Trust me."

They were interrupted by the sound of the locker room door opening, and James Potter's voice echoed out, "Rylie! There you are. We need to talk."

Rylie rolled her eyes, already sensing what was coming. Inside, the locker room was filled with the sounds of the Gryffindor Quidditch team preparing — the clatter of equipment, the murmur of strategy discussions, and the occasional whoop of excitement.

Outside, Evan hesitated for a moment, silently urging James to convince Rylie where he could not. However, deep down, he knew the chances were slim. With a heavy heart, he made his way through the bustling crowd, looking to join Remus and Lily in the stands.

James approached, taking Rylie by the arm and leading her to a quieter corner. "Look, I know you're adamant about playing," he began, "but as the captain, I'm seriously considering benching you for this match."

"You can't be serious!" Rylie's voice was sharp, her fiery determination flashing in her eyes. "This is the final, James!"

"I know," James replied, his voice strained. "But this isn't just about Quidditch, it's about your safety."

Rylie took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "James, I've been training for this moment for years. I won't be benched just because I'm pregnant."

James ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration. "It's my responsibility to look out for my team. And right now, I think you sitting out is the best decision."

"I promise I'll be careful," Rylie said, desperation creeping into her voice. "I've never let you down before, have I?"

The two friends stared at each other for a long moment, both understanding the weight of the decision. Finally, James let out a resigned sigh. "Alright," he relented, "you can play. But promise me you'll stay safe out there."

Rylie's face broke into a relieved smile. "Thank you, James. I promise."

But as they geared up for the match, an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of James’ stomach. He couldn't shake off the feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong.

~*~

Evan weaved through the cheering students, finally spotting Remus and Lily's familiar faces in the Gryffindor section. Their chatter ceased momentarily as he approached, and Lily's green eyes searched his for any hint of reassurance.

"Did she decide to sit out?" Lily asked tentatively.

Evan gave a half-shrug, his gaze distant. "I'm hoping James could get through to her, but honestly? I doubt it." His voice carried a hint of worry, but he tried to sound optimistic.

The anticipation in the stands was palpable as Madam Hooch blew her whistle, signaling the start of the game. Slytherin vs. Gryffindor matches were always the most intense, the rivalry deep-rooted and fierce. And with Michael, one of the Slytherin Beaters, the tension was only heightened for Evan.

The match was nothing short of electrifying. The players zigzagged through the air, chasing the Quaffle, guarding hoops, and dodging bludgers with impressive agility. Every swoop, every pass, every score had the audience either gasping in awe or cheering in ecstasy. Rylie, with her innate grace and dexterity, was on fire. Every movement, every twist, and every turn she took was filled with purpose. She looked unstoppable.

Gryffindor was in the lead, and the possibility of a win seemed more and more likely. However, this advantage only seemed to spur the Slytherins on, particularly Michael. He had a glint in his eye, an edge of malevolence that Evan didn't like.

In a split second that felt like an eternity, Michael spotted an opening. With a powerful swing, he sent a bludger hurtling towards Rylie at an alarming speed. The stadium gasped in collective horror. Rylie tried to maneuver herself to deflect it, but it was too late. The bludger made a direct hit, striking her squarely in the gut. The impact was so forceful that she lost her grip on her broomstick and began to plummet towards the ground. The entire stadium went silent, save for the horrified screams echoing from the stands.

Lily's hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide with terror, while Remus gripped the edge of the bench tightly, his face paling. Evan's heart seemed to stop altogether. He felt a wrenching sensation in his stomach, as if the bludger had struck him instead.

As Rylie continued her descent, members of both teams, regardless of house loyalties, sped towards her in a desperate attempt to intervene. But it was James, pushing his broom to its absolute limits, who reached her first. With a nearly superhuman effort, he managed to catch her mid-air, holding her close as they landed roughly onto the pitch, cushioning her fall with his body. Sirius wasn't far behind. As they descended, he swooped in, helping to stabilize them and ensure a safer landing.

The entire stadium fell silent. The spectators, the players, even the birds in the sky seemed to stop and hold their breath, waiting for a sign of movement from the three on the ground. The intensity of the moment was palpable.

After what felt like an eternity but was really only a few seconds, James managed to push himself up to a sitting position, still cradling Rylie. He gently brushed some hair from her face, his own pale with shock and concern. Sirius, meanwhile, stood guard, his eyes darting around, watching for any potential threats, still on high alert despite the immediate danger having passed.

The moment James and Rylie touched the pitch, the crowd's collective gasp was immediately replaced by hurried footsteps. Madam Pomfrey, flanked by a team of skilled mediwizards, sprinted onto the field with grim determination. Swiftly, they conjured a shimmering blue barrier around the fallen players, ensuring they had the space and privacy to administer immediate medical care. The protective curtain, however, did little to muffle the cacophony from the stands.

Fury from the Gryffindor stands was palpable. Boos, shouts, and fervent cries of injustice echoed through the stadium, their anger directed squarely at Michael. Unfazed by the animosity, Michael stood tall on his broomstick, a smirk painting his face. The self-satisfied expression conveyed a disturbing sense of pride, as if he had achieved a great victory, rather than inflicting unspeakable harm.

Evan's heart pounded loudly in his chest, his vision tunneling. All he could see was the blue barrier, and all he could think of was getting to Rylie. Frantically, he navigated the maze of shocked spectators, taking two to three steps at a time as he made his descent from the stands. Lily's voice and Remus's hurried words of caution floated somewhere in the background, but they were mere whispers against the roaring storm of Evan's desperation and dread.

As Evan, Lily, and Remus approached the glowing barrier on the pitch, the stern yet worried face of Professor McGonagall came into view. She stood there like a sentinel, a rock amidst the sea of chaos that surrounded them. "She's being prepped for transport to the hospital wing," she informed the trio, her voice taut. "Madam Pomfrey and her team are doing all they can."

Swallowing hard, Evan tried to find his voice, a torrent of emotions threatening to drown him. "I need to see her, Professor," he managed to utter, each word dripping with desperation.

McGonagall's gaze, usually so stern and unyielding, softened as it met Evan's pleading eyes. After what felt like an eternity, she gave a reluctant nod. "Alright, but be brief. Every second counts now."

Pushing through the protective barrier, a gut-wrenching sight awaited Evan. Rylie, once a beacon of strength and grace in the air, now lay vulnerable and still. The most jarring of all was the unmistakable dark stain marring her Gryffindor robes, a cruel testament to the tragedy that had unfolded. 

Evan's vision momentarily blurred with unshed tears and a rage, deep and potent, surged through him. His gaze turned to James, who sat beside Rylie, his face as pale as hers. Evan's mind screamed at him, reminding him of the choice James had made to let Rylie play. But as their eyes met, the shared agony they both felt made words unnecessary, and Evan knew this wasn't the time for blame.

The weight of the moment bore heavily on them both. James, shoulders slumped and eyes glistening with unshed tears, tried to articulate his guilt. "Evan... I... I never thought..," he murmured, each word filled with the kind of regret that would haunt a lifetime.

Evan's piercing gaze, though filled with pain and accusation, bore no room for explanations. "Not now, Potter," he hissed, his voice trembling with a myriad of emotions. Taking a shaky breath, he added, “We’ll deal with that later.”

With that, Evan turned his full attention back to Rylie, grasping her hand with a gentleness that was in stark contrast to the storm brewing within him. Her fingers felt cold, lifeless, and the weight of the situation threatened to pull him under. Closing his eyes, he silently willed her to squeeze back, to give him any sign that she was still with him.

The tension was thick, the entire area a maelstrom of emotion. Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey soon arrived, urgency evident in their every move. The medical team gently positioned Rylie onto a floating stretcher, which hovered a few inches above the ground. It would ensure a swift and smooth transport back to the castle.

"You both need to accompany us to the hospital wing immediately," McGonagall instructed, her stern voice betraying a hint of concern.

Evan nodded gravely, not taking his eyes off Rylie, silently willing her to be alright. James, heavy with guilt, rose to join them. The journey to the hospital wing felt interminable for Evan, each step echoing with dread and foreboding. The air between him and James was thick with tension, an unspoken storm of guilt, regret, and anger brewing. They walked in silence, but the weight of their shared pain was a palpable presence between them.

The two young men trailed behind Rylie and the medical team, their footsteps echoing their growing dread, until they reached the ominous entrance of the Hospital Wing. As they drew close, Professor McGonagall, her face reflecting a blend of stern duty and genuine concern, instructed them firmly, "You both will wait here."

She gave them a final, lingering look before disappearing behind the doors, which swung shut with a solemn thud. Those doors, robust and unyielding, seemed now like impassable walls, keeping Evan away from Rylie.

A tide of helplessness overwhelmed Evan, and without thinking, he hammered on the doors with clenched fists. "No! I need to see her!" Evan shouted, his desperation evident as he pounded on the door. "Rylie!"

James, his own face a mask of turmoil, acted quickly. Grasping Evan's arm in an attempt to ground him, he implored, "Evan, we need to trust them. They're doing everything they can. Barging in won't help Rylie right now."

Evan's despair twisted into rage, and he whirled around, shoving James hard against the corridor wall. "You should've made her sit out! She'd be safe if you benched her!" 

James's temper flared in return, fueled by his own guilt and anger. He shoved Evan back. "I tried, damn it!"

A fire ignited in Evan's eyes, his voice breaking with emotion. "You didn't try hard enough!" he shot back, damn near yelling at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing through the corridor as the force of his emotions drove him to lunge at James.

Caught off guard, James stumbled back, but quickly retaliated, landing a blow on Evan's cheek. The two grappled fiercely, each trying to gain the upper hand as they collided with the corridor walls and floor.

Amidst the chaos, James managed to pin Evan momentarily, his face mere inches from Evan's, voice raw with emotion. "You don't think I don't know that?!" he yelled, his voice echoing through the corridor. Spit flew as he continued, "You don't think I replay that moment in my head every second since it happened?!"

As Evan and James wrestled, their previous camaraderie was overshadowed by the raw, burning sting of guilt and regret. The corridor, once silent save for the echo of distant voices, now thrummed with the energy of their struggle.

With each impact, a cacophony of emotions burst forth, every movement translating their internal chaos into outward aggression. Evan's elbow slammed into James's ribcage, extracting a sharp grunt. "You could've prevented this, James! You were in charge!" Evan roared, tears of frustration threatening to spill.

James's voice shook with a mix of anger and heartbreak, "Do you believe I ever wanted this for her? She's not just your girlfriend, Evan. She's my family!" With that, James managed to land a forceful punch, making Evan momentarily see stars. Their frenzied tussle continued, neither giving quarter, both lost in their own worlds of regret and sorrow. The true enemy wasn't the man they faced, but the shared anguish that haunted them.

It wasn't long before the ruckus drew attention. With a rush of movement, Sirius and Remus charged into the fray, seizing their respective friends and pulling them away from one another. Their arrival seemed to bring a jarring pause to the scene, like a record scratch in a melancholic song.

Sirius, his face red from exertion, held Evan tightly, his voice stern. "Stop this, both of you!" he ordered. Remus, on the other hand, stood between the two combatants, hid hand on James’ chest to keep him from moving forward, his normally calm face etched with disappointment and concern. "This isn't the solution," he admonished softly.

James, panting heavily and wiping blood from his lip, locked eyes with Evan. Both sets of eyes, so different in hue, mirrored the same depth of pain, regret, and unspeakable love for the girl lying just beyond those hospital doors.

Remus, his eyes stern yet understanding, said, "You're both scared and hurt. We all are. But this? This is not the solution."

Gasping for breath and drained from the altercation, both Evan and James met each other's gaze - not with anger now, but with shared heartbreak.

Suddenly, the doors to the hospital wing opened, revealing a disheveled Madame Pomfrey. Her eyes widened at the sight of the two battered and bruised young men in front of her. "Merlin's beard! What in the world happened out here?"

Evan's voice, hoarse from shouting and heavy with despair, managed to push out a single question. "The baby... is the baby okay?" 

Madame Pomfrey's usually stern eyes softened, and her gaze dropped to the floor as she slowly shook her head. "I'm so sorry, Evan."

Her words felt like a weight on his chest, making it hard to breathe. As the gravity of the situation overwhelmed him, Evan's knees buckled, sending him collapsing to the cold, unfeeling stone floor.

Lily, who had maintained a restrained distance during the earlier confrontation, rushed forward without hesitation. Kneeling beside the fallen Evan, her expressive green eyes brimming with concern, she murmured, "Evan," gently offering her hand to him.

From the periphery, Sirius, Remus, and a battered James exchanged fraught glances, the air thick with tension and regret. Grasping Lily's outstretched hand, Evan allowed her to help him to his feet. The raw pain and confusion in his eyes was palpable, making Lily's comforting squeeze all the more necessary.

Before James could muster the courage to approach, Madame Pomfrey stepped in, her voice firm yet tinged with compassion. "Both of you, inside now. Whatever issues you've got can be settled later. Right now, you both need medical attention." She glanced pointedly at James' swelling eye and Evan's disheveled state, ushering them towards the hospital wing's entrance.

As they were ushered into the hospital wing, James shot Evan a glance, a silent promise that they would talk and address the gulf that had widened between them.

Once inside the sterile brightness of the hospital wing, Evan's eyes immediately darted towards a distant bed where he could make out Rylie's form, her stillness far too eerie and unsettling. He instinctively moved towards her, but Madame Pomfrey quickly intercepted him, her hand firm on his chest.

"Easy there, young man," she warned, her voice softer than before but still commanding respect. "She's still stabilizing. It's important not to disturb her right now."

"I just want to see her," Evan's voice broke, desperation evident in his gaze.

"And you will," Madame Pomfrey assured him gently. "But first, let me tend to those wounds. Rylie wouldn’t want to see you like this either."

Evan looked torn, glancing back and forth from Rylie to Pomfrey, and finally nodding reluctantly. He allowed her to guide him to a nearby bed where she began to apply various potions and spells to mend the injuries from the fight.

James, who was a few beds away, was also being seen to by another nurse. There was an unspoken understanding between the two young men, a pause in their hostilities, bound by the shared concern for Rylie.

The minutes seemed to drag on endlessly for Evan. Each second was agony, but Madame Pomfrey's skilled hands worked quickly, and soon enough, his physical injuries were mended. All the while, his eyes never left Rylie's form.

As Madame Pomfrey finished the last incantation, she finally said, "All right, you can see her now. But remember to be gentle. She's been through a lot."

With a mix of gratitude and urgency, Evan approached Rylie's bedside, taking in the sight of her pale face and the steady rise and fall of her chest, each breath a silent testament to her fight for life. He took her hand, softly kissing it, and whispered words of love and hope, praying that she would pull through.

Rylie's face, pale and framed by loose tendrils of her hair, remained still for what felt like hours to Evan. The silence in the hospital wing was periodically broken by the rustling of sheets or the faint murmurs of attending nurses. But it was Rylie's soft, broken whisper that cut through it all, making Evan's heart jump.

"Evan?" she murmured, her eyelids fluttering slightly, trying to focus on the face hovering above her. 

"I'm here, love," he responded immediately, gripping her hand tightly and pressing it to his lips, tears streaming down his face. 

Rylie's gaze seemed distant, her voice quivering. "The baby... our baby... is she...?"

Evan's throat tightened. He had hoped he wouldn't have to deliver the news right away, but he knew he couldn't lie to her. Swallowing hard, he whispered, "I'm so sorry, Rylie."

The weight of the words seemed to press down on them both. Rylie's eyes filled with tears, and a deep, heart-wrenching sob tore through her. Evan, powerless to do anything else, gently climbed onto the bed next to her, taking special care to wrap her up in his arms, held her as close as he could without hurting her, allowing her to cry into his chest, sharing in the depth of their shared loss.

The hospital wing, for all its activity, felt like the center of the universe for Evan and Rylie in that moment - a bubble of grief, love, and raw emotion. Time seemed to stand still as they clung to each other, two souls bound together in their pain.

~*~

The following day, the gloomy atmosphere at Hogwarts was palpable. The Great Hall, usually bustling with chatter and laughter, was subdued. The flags of the four Houses seemed less vibrant, the magical ceiling reflecting the cloudy gray skies outside. The tragic events of the Quidditch match had spread like wildfire, and everyone now knew about the tragic loss Evan and Rylie had suffered.

At the Gryffindor table, Evan sat with his head hung low, his food untouched. Remus and Sirius sat beside him, trying to offer support. Lily had her arm around James, who looked equally distraught. Whispers of condolences, awkward looks, and stolen glances from the other Houses kept coming their way.

Michael, who sat with the Slytherins, was notably quiet. While he lacked remorse for what he had done, the weight of the consequences seemed to be pressing on him. Some Slytherins praised him for the "excellent shot", but others looked away, uncomfortable with the results of the game.

As classes began, teachers treated the Gryffindor students with a gentleness and understanding that was rarely seen. Professor McGonagall, usually stern, allowed her Transfiguration students to pair up and practice basic spells instead of a more demanding lesson. Professor Slughorn, in Potions class, gave an impromptu lecture on the healing properties of various elixirs, hoping perhaps to offer some solace.

Throughout the day, Evan could feel the weight of pitying eyes on him. Friends and acquaintances approached, trying to find the right words, but often ending up with awkward silences. A few brave souls offered words of comfort, their intentions sincere, even if their words felt inadequate.

By evening, Evan found himself at the lake's edge, watching the Giant Squid's tentacles break the water's surface now and then. The cool breeze ruffled his hair and carried the distant sounds of creatures in the Forbidden Forest. He felt numb and detached from everything, the weight of the previous day's events pressing down on him as he took out a pack of cigarettes. He lit one up, taking a deep drag before expelling the smoke into the air. It was then he realized, this was his first smoke since he met Rylie. He frowned, not realizing just how much of an impact Rylie had on him, and how much more he loved her for it. He took one last drag and put out the cigarette. He tossed the pack on the ground and took out his wand, setting the rest on fire.

Soft footsteps crunched on the grass behind Evan, causing him to turn. The evening light cast long shadows, and for a moment, James stood there, framed against the setting sun, his face showing every line and furrow of guilt and sorrow. The wind gently tugged at his disheveled hair.

"Evan," James began, voice thick with emotion. Each word seemed a struggle, as if he was wading through his own sea of regret. "I am so, so sorry. I should've listened, I should've benched her, should’ve taken the signs seriously."

Evan's gaze met James', searching for anger, but all he found was a reflection of his own pain. The fiery animosity from the hospital wing had cooled into a shared sorrow, binding the two in an understanding borne of tragedy. Taking a deep breath, Evan replied, "You couldn't have known, James. We both wanted to trust Rylie's judgment. We both thought we were doing what was right for her."

James swallowed hard, his eyes darting to the ground for a moment before meeting Evan's once again. "It doesn't make it easier," he admitted with a sigh. "I've known Rylie since forever, and her spirit, her determination... it’s always been her strength. But maybe... maybe this time it was her downfall."

He hesitated, taking a step closer as he continued.  "But we should have been the ones to protect her from herself."

Evan, his shoulders hunched, nodded slowly. "Yeah, we should have."

Silence enveloped them. The only sound was the gentle lapping of the lake's water on the shore and the distant hoot of an owl.

Finally, James spoke again, his voice softer. "How's she doing?"

Evan let out a shaky breath. "She's devastated, James. The baby... Kira... she had named her already. Rylie's strong, but this... this is breaking her."

James looked away, blinking rapidly. "And you?" he asked, voice nearly a whisper.

Evan's laugh was humorless. "I'm shattered. But right now, it's not about me. I just... I just need to be there for her."

James placed a hand on Evan's shoulder, squeezing it gently. "We're all here for you both.”

Evan's eyes flashed with a blend of anger and vulnerability. "You know, James, I can't shake off the feeling that it was more than just about Quidditch rivalry. That it was personal, about me, about Rylie and me being together."

James frowned but couldn’t help but feel that Evan was right. “Quidditch is a dangerous sport, mate..” 

Evan's jaw tightened. "I get that, but Michael's attack felt deliberate. Did you even see it?” Evan asked, to which James shook his head. Evan took a deep breath, attempting to find words that could adequately express the gravity of that moment. "I was watching her, James. Watching Rylie fly with that grace and fire she always has. And then I saw Michael. I saw him lining up the shot, saw the intent in his eyes. It wasn't like any ordinary Bludger strike. He waited, took his time, and aimed directly at Rylie."

James swallowed hard, the weight of Evan's description bearing down on him. "I didn't... I was too focused on the game. But that doesn't make it any less serious."

Evan looked away, struggling with the memory. "There was this... cold precision to it. It wasn't just a player trying to throw another off their game. It was someone with a very specific target, someone with a vendetta. The Bludger didn't stray, James. It hit its mark."

James clenched his fists, anger rising in him. "I wish I'd seen it. I wish I'd stopped him before it got to this point. We won't let him get away with this."

Evan nodded. “It wasn't just a random act of aggression. He has never been fond of me, ever since I started dating Rylie. The sneers, the jabs – they increased tenfold. He couldn't get to me directly, so he targeted Rylie instead."

James grimaced, the realization of Evan's words hitting him. "I've seen the way Michael looks at you, the comments he's passed. You might be right. It's despicable, using Quidditch – something we all love and respect – as a tool for his personal vendetta."

Evan looked out at the rippling waters of the lake, lost in his thoughts. "I've dealt with a lot in my life, but this... using someone I love as a pawn? It's unforgivable. I can't help but wonder if someone from the Death Eaters told Michael to do what he did, to target us specifically."

James put a hand on Evan's shoulder, his grip firm and supportive. "We'll get through this. Michael will face the consequences of his actions. No one messes with family. And if there's any connection to the Death Eaters, we'll uncover it and make sure justice is served." 

The stillness of the Black Lake juxtaposed with the maelstrom of emotions between the two young men. The gentle lapping of water against the shore was a sharp contrast to Evan's ragged breathing and the steely resolve in James's eyes.

Evan looked out over the water, the reflection of the moon shimmering on the surface, as if mocking the dark reality that loomed ahead. "How did we get here, James? When did school rivalries become so... lethal?"

James sighed heavily, looking down at his shoes. "It's not just about school anymore. This war... Voldemort's influence... it's seeping into every part of our lives. Hogwarts used to be our safe haven, but now..."

"I know," Evan interrupted, the weight of the world seeming to press down on his shoulders. "But Michael's not just some Death Eater pawn. He's someone we grew up with, someone we've known for years."

James nodded. "That's what makes it even more terrifying. If he can be influenced, turned to the dark side... anyone can. But I promise you," he said, looking Evan squarely in the eyes, "I won't rest until we get to the bottom of this. Michael won't get away with what he's done."

Evan's gaze drifted back to the water. "I appreciate that, James. I just... all I care about is Rylie right now. We need to protect her.. and our friends.” 

James patted Evan on the back. "We will.”

~*~

Evan, clutching a bouquet of white lilies, pushed the doors to the hospital wing open, the air smelling of potions and the telltale tinge of magic. He expected to find Rylie resting quietly, but instead, he froze upon spotting Nathan Kipping by her bedside.

Evan felt a mixture of shock and dread. The last place he expected Nathan to turn up was here, given how long he'd been absent from Rylie's life. Before Evan could say anything, Nathan's cold eyes settled on him.

"Why are you here?" Nathan demanded, voice filled with venom, rising from his chair. "Haven't you and your family done enough damage?"

Evan, taken aback by the hostility and the weight of Nathan's words, stuttered, "I... I came to see Rylie. I never meant for any of this to happen."

Nathan took a step closer, his voice dripping with disdain. "You expect me to believe that? Your family's name is synonymous with pain and chaos. Now my daughter lies here, shattered because of you."

Behind Nathan, Rylie's voice, weak yet discernible, broke through the tension. "Dad, please... stop."

Nathan's eyes flashed, “Your bloodline is nothing but trouble, Rosier.”

Evan's patience, though frayed, still had its limits. "I am not my parents, Nathan," he countered, his voice filled with both anger and desperation. "I love your daughter. With everything I have."

"You expect me to believe that?" Nathan spat, his expression unwavering. "You and your family have taken everything from us."

Before Evan could reply, Nathan's voice cut him off. "You're forbidden to see Rylie again. Stay away."

But as Nathan spoke, Rylie, gathering her remaining strength, had pushed herself out of bed. "Dad, enough!" she pleaded, her voice more forceful now. She tried to put herself between the two, a protective shield for Evan. 

But her face grew paler, her legs wobbly. Both men noticed at once. They moved instinctively, each grabbing one of her arms to support her. For a moment, their animosity was forgotten, replaced by shared concern for the girl they both loved.

Madam Pomfrey, hearing the commotion, rushed out of her office, her expression a mix of sternness and concern. "What on earth is going on here? Miss Kipping, back to bed, this instant!"

Nathan, though still glaring at Evan, gently guided his daughter back towards her bed. Rylie sank into the soft pillows, her energy drained from the confrontation. "I just wanted..." she began, tears forming at the corners of her eyes, "I just wanted peace."

Evan, regret and sadness painted across his face, took a step back. "Rylie, I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. 

Madam Pomfrey stepped between them, her gaze sternly fixed on Nathan. "I understand your concerns, Mr. Kipping, but this is a place of healing. If there are any more outbursts, I'll have to ask you both to leave."

Nathan gave Evan one last warning glance, his voice low and serious. "We're not done, Rosier."

Evan simply nodded, unable to meet Nathan's gaze. As he turned to leave, Rylie's weak voice stopped him. "Evan," she called softly. He paused, looking back at her. Their eyes met for a long moment, communicating a depth of emotion words couldn't capture.

With a heavy heart, Evan exited the hospital wing, the weight of the recent events pressing down on him. The love he felt for Rylie, the anguish of their loss, and now the confrontation with Nathan, it was all too much. But he knew, deep down, he would fight for Rylie, regardless what Nathan says.

~*~

The gentle hum of the night wind whispered through the Astronomy Tower's stone arches. The inky sky above was dotted with countless stars, each shimmering with its own light. In the midst of this vast cosmic canvas, a lone figure stood, silhouetted by the soft luminescence of the moon. Evan Rosier's shoulders sagged, weighed down by emotions he couldn’t fully comprehend.

The steady rhythm of footsteps echoed upwards, breaking his introspective trance. As the figure approached, Evan turned slightly, his face illuminated just enough to reveal the raw pain in his eyes.

“Thought I might find you here,” Remus Lupin remarked softly, taking a few steps closer to Evan. The silver of his scars faintly reflected the moonlight, making them appear both ethereal and stark against his skin. “Someone saw you heading this way after… well, after the scene in the hospital wing.”

Evan exhaled deeply, trying to find the words. “Remus… I don't know how to navigate any of this. The past, my family's legacy, the love I have for Rylie, and now her father... It’s all just a twisted mess.”

Remus nodded, leaning against the tower's parapet, looking up at the stars. “You know, Evan, our families, our past, they shape us. But they don't define us. I learned that the hard way.”

Evan glanced at him, realizing that Remus too had his own demons, a past and a condition he didn’t choose. “How do you do it, Remus? How do you break free from what people expect of you based on your history?”

Remus took a moment, then responded, “By proving them wrong, every single day. And by surrounding myself with people who saw me for who I truly am, not for the scars I bear or the monster within. You have Rylie, and that's a start.”

There was a pause, filled only by the nocturnal sounds and the distant murmur of the castle below.

“And,” Remus added with a half-smile, “you have us. James might be a bit headstrong, but he cares. Sirius, in all his flamboyance, has a heart of gold. And I’d like to think I’m here for you too.”

Evan smiled weakly, comforted. “Thank you, Remus. I just hope Nathan sees that I’m not my parents, that I genuinely love his daughter.”

“And he might,” Remus acknowledged. “But it won't be words that convince him. It'll be actions, time, and most importantly, the love you show Rylie. That's the most potent magic there is.”

The two stood side by side, lost in thought, seeking solace in the vastness of the night sky. For in that vastness, their problems seemed smaller, and the road ahead, though uncertain, seemed manageable with friends by their side.

Chapter Text

The cold night air seemed to slice through Evan as he sat alone on the stone steps outside the hospital wing. Every part of him ached, not from the physical scuffle with James, but from the torment that clawed at his insides. Each second that passed was a reminder of the precarious thread Rylie’s life hung by, and the cold distance that had formed between Evan and her father, Nathan.

His mind replayed the harsh words and Nathan's cold, accusing eyes. "Your bloodline is nothing but trouble, Rosier." The chilling truth in those words settled like a stone in Evan's chest.

At that moment, Evan felt like a lone sentry in a silent, cold world, watching, waiting for any sign that Rylie would be alright. Despite the agony he felt, he couldn’t bring himself to leave this spot; it was as close as he could get to her right now.

The hospital doors creaked open softly. Evan's heart leapt into his throat, half-expecting to see a grim-faced Madam Pomfrey with devastating news. Instead, he was met with the stern and weary face of Nathan Kipping.

“Rosier,” Nathan spat, his voice steady but laden with a venom that made the name sound like a curse. He approached slowly, stopping a few feet from Evan, his stance guarded and his face a storm of grief and rage.

Evan’s voice was raw, reflecting his internal struggle. "I'm staying," he whispered, a firm edge to the word. "I'm staying until I know she’s okay."

Nathan’s eyes flashed dangerously, and he took a threatening step closer. "It’s because of people like you that she’s in there," he hissed through gritted teeth. "Because of your cursed name and your dark, twisted world."

Evan’s face tightened with pain but he held Nathan's fiery gaze. "I love your daughter," he said, his voice steady but charged with emotion. "And I would give anything— anything —to take her place right now."

Nathan seemed to waver for just a moment, his face a battleground of conflicting emotions—anger, grief, and the barest flicker of recognition that Evan's love for Rylie was genuine. But that spark was quickly overshadowed by his anguish and rage. "I lost Anna because of your world, Rosier," Nathan growled, "and I will not lose my daughter the same way."

Evan's face tightened, his pain turning into a simmering anger. "Being an Auror hasn't exactly kept your family safe, has it?" he shot back sharply, a defensive edge to his voice. "It was your job that put a target on Anna, not mine."

The moment the words left his lips, Evan felt a deep pang of regret, but his pride and his own swirling emotions forced him to keep his stance firm. His eyes, which were almost pleading a second ago, now were cold and guarded.

Nathan's face reddened, his expression twisted, a mixture of shock and rage. "How dare you," he hissed, his voice quaking with suppressed emotion. "You stand here, with the audacity to throw my wife’s death in my face while your family is responsible for her murder?"

It was then that Evan pressed on, fueled by his own swirl of guilt and anger. "And where the hell were you all these months?" Evan demanded, his voice rising. "When Anna and you announced your divorce, it shattered Rylie. When Anna died, it was us—her friends—who were here, picking up the pieces. Not you."

Nathan’s eyes blazed, but deep within them, Evan saw a flicker of pain—undeniable, raw pain. "I am her father," Nathan hissed through clenched teeth, the authority in his voice beginning to crack. "I have fought every day of my life to keep this family safe, and I've paid the price."

Evan's façade cracked at Nathan’s words; his shoulders tensed, and he took a shaky breath, clearly battling with himself. He didn't want this fight, didn’t want to make an enemy of Nathan, but he was scared—terrified of what Nathan’s perspective meant for his future with Rylie. In his mind, a dreadful thought looped: Evan had known they were targeting Anna. It was information he had kept buried deep within himself, a terrible secret that he dared not bring to light. The realization that his silence could have contributed to such a loss was a burden too heavy to bear. If this truth ever emerged, he feared he would lose Rylie, lose everything. But selfishly, desperately, he kept that dark secret locked tightly away. 

"I'm sorry," Evan finally whispered, almost inaudibly, his voice strained with the effort to maintain control. "That was out of line. I... I just don't know what to do, Nathan. I love your daughter, and the last thing I want is to bring her more pain."

Nathan’s face twisted into a scowl, his pain fueling his anger. "Love?" he spat the word as though it left a bitter taste. "You think that word has any meaning coming from a Rosier? Your parents took Anna from this world, and you stand here and talk of love?”

Evan’s face paled but he held his ground, the fiery anger in his eyes matching Nathan’s. "I am not my parents!" he shot back sharply. "I chose to be with Rylie despite everything, knowing the risks. I would die before letting anything happen to her."

Nathan took a threatening step closer to Evan, his voice low and menacing. "Then maybe you should have stayed away from her to begin with," he hissed. "Because as long as you're in her life, she'll never be safe. And I will do whatever it takes to protect my daughter, even if it means getting her away from you."

In that charged moment, the room seemed to close in on them, the tension so palpable it was almost a living thing. The battle lines were clear, and neither man was willing to yield.

With that final, chilling declaration, Nathan turned sharply and stormed down the corridor, leaving Evan standing alone, feeling as if the ground had been pulled out from beneath him. He felt the heavy weight of his family's history, his last name, suffocating him more than ever before. Slowly, he turned back towards the hospital wing, his heart heavy with an aching kind of sorrow. He pushed open the door gently and stepped inside. There, lying in the hospital bed, looking so fragile and pale, was Rylie. Her eyes, normally so full of life, were dull but flickered to life when she saw him.

"Evan," she whispered, her voice weak but filled with relief and love. It was clear in that moment, despite her condition, her concern was for him.

He moved closer, pulling a chair beside her bed and sinking into it. His hands were trembling as he took hers, and he couldn't quite meet her eyes. "Rylie," he began, his voice choked with emotion, "maybe... maybe your father is right. Maybe you would be safer without me."

Her eyes widened in disbelief and hurt, her breath catching in her throat as his words pierced through her heart. "Don't," she hissed sharply, her voice laced with pain and desperation. "Don't you dare say that."

Evan finally looked up at her, his eyes raw with pain. The vulnerability in his gaze only intensified her own tumultuous emotions. "I can't bear the thought of my existence putting you in danger, Rylie," he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of love and anguish. "I can't bear the thought of losing you."

Rylie's eyes, which had been filled with warmth at the sight of Evan, suddenly flashed with a fiery anger. She pushed herself up in the bed, her voice steady and fierce. "Don't you dare," she snapped. "Don’t you dare make decisions for me, Evan Rosier. I love you. I choose you and all the risks that come with it. And if you think for a second that you can just walk away to 'protect me,' you are sorely mistaken."

Evan's eyes welled with tears as he listened to Rylie's words, a poignant mix of raw determination and love. He was rendered momentarily speechless by her defiance and the palpable strength of her convictions. Slowly, he closed the distance between them until he was standing right beside her bed.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion, "more than I've ever loved anything in this world. But the thought of you being in danger because of me—it’s unbearable, Rylie. I can’t be the reason something happens to you."

He reached out hesitantly, as if afraid she might pull away, and gently cupped her cheek in his hand. His thumb traced her skin tenderly, his touch contrasting sharply with the anguish in his eyes.

Rylie reached up, placing her hand over his where it rested against her face. "I knew what I was getting into, Evan," she replied softly, her anger yielding to a profound sincerity. "We knew it wouldn't be easy. I'm not walking away from the man I love, from our future, just because it's hard and scary. We’ll face it together, like we promised."

The room seemed to hold its breath as Evan's expression slowly softened, the love he held for Rylie clear in his tearful eyes. The tempestuous emotions of the day seemed to quiet, if just for a moment, under the weight of their shared resolve.

~*~

Several weeks had passed since Rylie was released from the Hospital Wing. The shadow of Anna’s death and the confrontation with Nathan lingered, but amidst the pain, life at Hogwarts seemed to be easing into a semblance of normalcy and Rylie was slowly returning to her normal self, despite the upcoming funeral of her mother in the coming weeks. Something Evan and the rest of the crew were incredibly thankful for. 

The days found Evan and Rylie back in their routine. They attended classes, their hands often finding each other under the table, a silent reassurance that they were together in this. Days where they didn’t have classes together were spent stealing kisses when they could in the corridors of the castle between instructional periods. After classes, they would head to the library. Surrounded by towering shelves of books and the soft scratching of quills, they’d lose themselves in their studies, occasionally stealing glances that spoke more than words ever could.

Of course during this time, James, Sirius, Remus, and sometimes Peter—livened up their study sessions with jokes and jabs, their laughter a balm that lightened the room and helped to heal the wounds that were still fresh in their hearts.

One particular evening, while they were in the library, James slid over to their table with a mischievous grin.

"Ready for a little mischief?" he whispered, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

Rylie, feeling playful and eager for a distraction, exchanged a look with Evan. With a smirk, he nodded, "I'm in. But let's make sure we don't get caught this time."

As the evening descended upon Hogwarts, the four friends stealthily made their way through the dimly lit corridors. The suits of armor stood tall and imposing, ready to be enchanted with their mischievous magic. Rylie, her wand in hand, carefully cast the charm that would bring these lifeless guardians to life.

One by one, the suits of armor began to emit beautiful melodies, their heavy metallic voices resonating through the stone walls. The enchanting serenades filled the air, surprising unsuspecting students and even a few teachers who happened to pass by. The group watched from a hidden corner, their laughter bubbling up uncontrollably at the bewildered expressions on everyone's faces.

Though they did in fact, get caught. Professor McGonagall sternly—but with a twinkle in her eyes—chastised them the next morning, but let them off with a warning, almost out of pity because of everything the friend group had been through. 

Nights were their sanctuary. Evan and Rylie had discovered the magic of the Room of Requirement in a new way—it morphed into the perfect setting for their dates, whether that was a cozy, candle-lit room where they could talk and cuddle for hours, or a moonlit balcony overlooking the Black Lake, where they would hold each other close and find solace in their shared warmth. After a visit to Madam Pomfrey and a prescription for a birth control potion, their nights there were tender and passionate, filled with love and deep connection.

Their friends' lives were flourishing in love, too. Double dates became a common occurrence. James and Lily, now a steady and sweet couple, were often seen walking hand in hand. Sirius and Emmeline grew surprisingly close, their banter a constant backdrop to group gatherings. And Remus, despite his initial reservations due to his lycanthropy, found a compassionate and understanding partner in Alice.

It was a period of tranquility that they all desperately needed—a precious, golden time where the looming threats of the outside world seemed a universe away. In those moments, it was easy to forget about Dark Marks, family legacies, and the weight of a world at war.

But as with all blissful moments, the harsh embrace of reality inevitably intruded upon their joyous respite. 

The Great Hall was filled with the usual morning chatter as students gathered for breakfast. The ceiling depicted a beautiful nearing-spring morning, with clear skies promising a day of sunshine. At the Gryffindor table, Evan and Rylie sat side by side, enjoying each other's company amidst their friends.

Suddenly, an owl swooped down towards them, a letter clutched in its talons. With practiced grace, it landed directly in front of Rylie and extended its leg to her. Rylie, recognizing her father’s handwriting immediately on the envelope, felt her heart sink. Her face, which had been lit up with the happiness of the morning and laughter at one of Sirius' jokes, instantly turned pale, as if the sun itself had drained from her.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself. Her hands, which Evan noticed were slightly trembling, reached for the letter and unfolded the parchment. As she read, her eyes— those eyes that were finally beginning to become bright and full of life again—began to well with tears, a clear storm brewing behind them.

Evan, his heart aching at the sight of her pain, instinctively wrapped a comforting arm around her, pulling her closer to him. He could feel the tension in her body, the way her shoulders tightened, as if she were bracing herself against a powerful wind.

"What is it?" he asked gently, his voice soft but laced with worry. His eyes, a mirror of concern, searched hers, trying to understand, to share in whatever pain was etched in the words of that letter.

"It’s Mum’s funeral," Rylie whispered, her voice quivering like the fragile wings of a butterfly. "It’s set for this weekend. I have to leave tomorrow." She paused, taking another shaky breath, and added with a painful swallow, "Dad says… Dad says you can't come. He was very clear about that."

In that moment, Evan felt as though he’d been struck. The room seemed to swirl around him, a chaotic dance of students and breakfast dishes, but his focus remained razor-sharp on Rylie, on the tears that now clung to her lashes like morning dew, threatening to fall. He felt his chest tighten, an aching knot of pain and empathy. His face tightened at the words, the muscles in his jaw clenching involuntarily, but he nodded slowly. "I understand," he whispered, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. The hurt in his eyes was unmistakable, a raw and open wound. "It’s a family matter, and I don't want to cause any more pain or drama, especially on that day.” He took a breath. “Besides.. It wouldn’t look good for the son of her killers to be there,” he whispered, the words heavy and laced with a sorrow that seemed to seep into the very air around them.

Rylie's face crumpled at Evan's last words, her heart seeming to break all over again. She reached out to gently squeeze his hand, her own trembling slightly. The comfort she sought to offer him was marred by her own heartbreak, mirrored so clearly in her eyes. "I wish it weren’t this way," she whispered back, her voice trembling. "You're not your parents, Evan, and you're not responsible for their actions. You're part of my family too," she added softly, earnestly.

In that quiet declaration, Evan felt the depths of their bond, and it fortified him amidst his own pain. With his free hand, he cupped Rylie's cheek gently, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped down her face. "I love you," he whispered to her, each word infused with all the warmth and sincerity in his heart. "And I’ll be here, waiting for you when you come back."

At that moment, James, who had been quietly observing from across the table, cleared his throat and spoke up with a resolute expression. "I’ll go with you, Rylie," he offered warmly, his tone steady and comforting. "To keep you company, and to make sure you're safe."

Rylie looked up at James, her tears spilling over, but gratitude shining in her eyes like a beacon in the storm they were navigating. "Thank you, James," she managed to say, her voice filled with emotion but steady with resolve.

Evan swallowed hard, his eyes briefly flickering towards James. A flash of jealousy sparked within him — it should be him standing beside Rylie in this, one of her darkest hours — but he swiftly quashed it down. He knew James was a true friend, and that Rylie needed all the support she could get. With a deep breath, he reinforced his smile, albeit a sad one, for Rylie. "That’s a good idea," he conceded quietly. "Thank you, James."

The gratitude in Evan’s voice was genuine, despite the tightness in his chest. He trusted James, but the aching reality that he, Evan, couldn't be the one to stand by Rylie’s side during such a pivotal moment was a hard pill to swallow. Yet, he knew this wasn’t about him; it was about Rylie and what she needed.

James nodded firmly, his face sympathetic but resolved. "We're a family here," he said, reaching over to give Rylie’s other hand a reassuring squeeze. "We take care of each other, and we'll get through this together."

Rylie’s tears seemed to ebb for a moment as she looked between the two young men who had become her pillars in this tumultuous time. Her lips trembled into a tender, appreciative smile, even as her eyes remained wet with emotion. "I don’t know what I would do without both of you," she whispered, the words carrying a profound weight.

The Great Hall continued to buzz with the noise of students enjoying their breakfast, seemingly worlds away from the intimate, poignant scene unfolding at their corner of the Gryffindor table. In that moment, it was as if they were encased in a bubble of their own, where love and friendship were the strongest forces.

Evan leaned in and gently kissed Rylie's forehead, lingering for a moment as if trying to impart all his strength and love into that simple touch. "You'll never have to find out," he whispered against her skin, before pulling back to look into her eyes. 

Rylie leaned into Evan, finding comfort in his warmth and steady presence. It was a stark and powerful reminder that, despite the pain and the complicated webs their lives had become entangled in, they were resilient and united, not just as a couple but as part of a chosen family that refused to be torn asunder by the darker elements of their world.

~*~

Later that night, in the sanctuary of James' dorm room, he and Lily sat closely on his bed, Lily casually flipping through a text book while James was leaned back against the headboard, disassociating. 

"You seem miles away," Lily said softly, noticing the distant expression in James’ eyes. He seemed caught in a world of his own, his thoughts adrift. She set her book aside on the nightstand, its pages marked by a folded corner, and turned to face him, her green eyes filled with concern.

"It's Rylie’s mum's funeral this weekend," James replied, his voice carrying a deep sigh. "I've offered to go with her. We’re leaving tomorrow.” His hands were restless, fingers tapping a rhythmic pattern on his knee, betraying the tension he felt.

Lily reached out and gently took his hand, her touch warm and reassuring. The simple act seemed to still the nervous energy in him, if only slightly. "That’s very kind of you, James," she said, giving his hand a compassionate squeeze. "But I can see it’s weighing on you. What’s troubling you?" she asked, her voice tender.

James let out a breath he seemed to have been holding, his shoulders slumping as he turned his full attention to Lily. "It’s Evan,” he admitted, a line of worry creasing his forehead. "He’s devastated that he can’t be there for Rylie. He’s her partner, Lils. He should be the one at her side, not me. And I can't help but feel like I'm overstepping by going in his place."

Lily shook her head slowly, her red hair catching the soft light of the room. "You’re not overstepping," she reassured him. "You’re being a steadfast friend in a moment when Rylie needs support. Think of it as standing in for Evan, since he can’t be there. You’re showing her that she’s not alone during this incredibly hard time.”

As she spoke, Lily could feel a small, almost imperceptible twinge in her chest, a pang of jealousy that surprised her with its sudden appearance. She knew James and Rylie were close, their friendship deep and built on years of shared experiences. A part of her, small but insistent, wished she were the only woman so important to him, the only one he’d go to such lengths to support.

But then she looked deeper into James' eyes, seeing the integrity and empathy that defined him, and that small voice was quieted. She knew, in her heart, that what he and Rylie had was a bond of friendship, strong but different from the love he held for her. She trusted James implicitly, and she trusted their relationship.

James looked into Lily’s eyes, and in that moment, he saw not only the love they shared but also the wisdom and sincerity she consistently brought into his life. "You always have a way of making things clearer," he murmured, his voice carrying a note of admiration and gratitude.

Lily smiled gently, her own love for James warming her from the inside out, melting away the remnants of her brief insecurity. "It's because I love you," she whispered back. "I trust you, and I understand why this is important.”

As she spoke, she could see the weight lift slightly from James’ shoulders, replaced with the love and comfort that came from their own deep connection. James leaned forward and pressed his lips against Lily’s, trying to convey just how much he loved her. Lily responded in kind, her hand gently removing his glasses and setting them aside. A flick of a wand and the curtains around James’ four post bed shielded them from prying eyes while another flick put up a silencing charm. Thankfully the room was empty and they knew nobody was going to be back for hours.. But just in case.

Lost in the heat of the moment, their bodies moved together as if guided by an invisible force. James' hands roamed Lily's curves, exploring every inch of her with adoration and wonder. Lily's fingers tangled in James' tousled hair, pulling him closer, deepening their connection.

As their clothes began to fall away, revealing their bare skin, a nervous giggle escaped Lily's lips. James chuckled softly in response, their laughter blending with the sounds of their passion. They were experiencing something new, something beautiful, and their shared laughter only made the experience more intimate and special.

With every touch, every caress, they discovered each other in ways they had never imagined. There were moments of uncertainty and clumsiness, but they embraced it all with a sense of humor and a genuine desire to please one another. They communicated through soft whispers and gentle gestures, ensuring that each step they took was consensual and enjoyable for both of them.

James gazed into Lily's eyes, his love and vulnerability laid bare. "Are you okay?" he asked once again, his voice filled with concern and tenderness.

Lily nodded, a soft smile gracing her lips. "I'm more than okay. I want this with you."

Assured by her response, James continued their dance of love, their bodies moving in harmony, exploring the depths of pleasure and intimacy together. The world outside their room faded away as they surrendered to the moment, their laughter echoing through the intimate space they had created.

Time seemed to stand still as they reached heights of ecstasy, their bodies entwined and their hearts connected. The intensity of their emotions surged through them, mingling with the laughter that still occasionally bubbled up between their passionate kisses.

After what felt like an eternity of bliss, their bodies finally stilled, and they lay in each other's arms, breathless and content. The room was filled with a warm, serene silence, broken only by their soft giggles and the sound of their synchronized heartbeats. They basked in the afterglow, reveling in the joy and fulfillment that came from sharing such an intimate moment. Their love had blossomed into something deeper, something that transcended words and brought them closer than ever before.

As James and Lily lay entwined in their intimate post-love-making bliss, they heard the sound of footsteps approaching the room. The door creaked open, and Sirius Black, with his characteristic mischievous grin, followed closely by Remus Lupin, entered the room.

"Oi, mate, stop wanki—" Sirius began as he walked over to James’ bed, throwing open the red curtain that had kept the nude couple inside away from prying eyes. “OH MERLIN’S FUCKING SHIT WANKER!” He screamed as he clapped both hands over his eyes causing him to stumble backward, his face turning beet red. Remus, realizing the situation, quickly averted his gaze and turned to face the wall, trying and failing to stifle a chuckle.

James and Lily's eyes widened in a mix of panic and mortification, their cheeks flushing with embarrassment as they hastily pulled the blanket over themselves, seeking refuge from the unexpected intrusion. James struggled to find the right words to salvage the awkward situation. "Sirius! What in the bloody hell are you doing, barging in like that?"

Sirius, still trying to regain his composure, managed to blurt out an apology, his voice filled with disbelief and genuine remorse. "I-I didn't... I mean, I didn't expect... I'm sorry!" Despite his sincere regret, a mischievous glint danced in his eyes, hinting at the amusement he found in the situation.

Lily couldn't help but interject, her voice a blend of amusement and exasperation. "You could at least learn to knock, Sirius!"

Sirius, caught off guard by Lily's remark, fumbled for a response, his words stumbling out in his flustered state. "Knock?! On what?! The curtain? How does one even knock on a curtain?!" He gestured wildly towards the swaths of fabric, his confusion evident.

Lily's laughter mingled with Sirius', the tension of the moment dissipating as they shared in the sheer absurdity of it all. "The door, you prat!" she managed to say between fits of giggles, her head now buried in James’ shoulder.

Sirius continued to chuckle, his laughter infectious as he leaned flopped down backwards against his mattress, relishing in the hilarity of the situation. "Well, I must say, barging in on you two like that is a story I'll be telling for.” He jabs a finger straight up in the air. “For years” Jab. “to come!" JabJabJab. 

Feeling a mix of mortification and amusement, James couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. "Just give us a moment, will you?" he said, trying to regain some composure.

Sirius let out another laugh as he rolled off the bed and walked towards Remus. “Well mate, let’s leave these two to their playdate,”  he said, wrapping an arm around a laughing, bright-red-faced Remus. With a playful nudge, Sirius guided his friend toward the door.  “Make good choices!” Sirius called out, a mischievous glimmer in his eye, as he closed the door behind them. 

As Sirius and Remus continued their laughter-filled descent down the stairs, James quickly reacted, his instincts kicking in. He snatched his wand from the nearby nightstand and pointed it at the door, skillfully casting a locking charm to ensure their privacy. The sound of the door clicking into place served as a barrier against any further unexpected interruptions.

Within the safe confines of their room, Sirius' laughter echoed in the distance, intermittently punctuated by gasps for breath. James couldn't help but join in, the contagious joy spreading through him. Amidst his laughter, Sirius managed to gasp out, "That git is literally gonna kill me!" The absurdity of the situation only heightened their amusement.

Groaning playfully, James fell back against the mattress, his body relaxing as the initial rush of embarrassment faded, replaced by the warm embrace of humor. Lily followed suit, her giggles blending with James', their shared laughter bonding them further. As their laughter subsided, Lily's cheeks still flushed with a residual blush, she looked at James with sparkling eyes. "Well, that certainly made for an unforgettable moment."

James, his heartbeat gradually returning to a steady rhythm, wrapped his arm around Lily, pulling her closer. He reveled in the reassurance of her presence, feeling a sense of calm wash over him. "That it did," he agreed, a smile playing on his lips. "I suppose we should be grateful for Sirius' knack for unintentional comedy. It certainly keeps life interesting."

In that moment, as their laughter dissipated into a comfortable silence, James and Lily found solace in each other's arms. The memory of Sirius' unexpected intrusion would forever be etched in their minds, a tale they would share with fondness and laughter, a testament to the enduring bond of friendship and the ability to find joy even in the most awkward of circumstances.

With a contented sigh, Lily nestled closer to James, resting her head against his chest. The rise and fall of his breath beneath her ear brought a sense of comfort and security. They reveled in the quietude, the only sounds filling the room being the soft whispers of their breath and the occasional distant laughter from Sirius and Remus. After a quick clean up and getting dressed, the two snuggled back on the bed, not wanting to separate, but also not wanting to get barged in on again in a compromising position. 

James, his voice a mere whisper, broke the silence, his words carrying a hint of nostalgia. "Remember when we were just first years?  It feels like a lifetime ago."

Lily smiled, her eyes distant with reflection, nodding and only managing a “Mm Hmm..” in a tired, but happy tone. In the midst of their conversation, a soft knock resonated from the door, interrupting their reminiscence. James and Lily exchanged a curious glance before James called out, "Who is it?"

The door creaked open, revealing a now semi-composed Sirius, but a still grinning Remus. Sirius sported a sheepish expression while Remus wore an apologetic smile. "Sorry to interrupt," Remus began, "but we thought we'd check if you were still alive in here. 

James chuckled, his eyes glinting mischievously. "We're very much alive, Padfoot. Just enjoying a moment of peace and quiet."

Sirius, with a mock expression of hurt, placed a hand over his heart. "Peace and quiet? Is that what you call leaving us to our own laughter-induced demise on the stairs? Besides, it’s getting late and Moony here needs his beauty sleep.” Sirius pointed a thumb at Remus. 

“Okay Mr. OhMyGodWillTheyHurryUpSoICanGoToSleepAndDreamICanDoThatWithEmmeline!” Remus said in one breath that took the other three by surprise.

“Dream of doing what with Emmeline?” A voice asked from behind Sirius. 

Sirius gave a glance to Remus, Lily, then James, his eyes wide, then to the window, thinking that that was the better option than telling Emmeline. His face began to grow red. “Um uh..” his mouth was suddenly dry and he turned to look at Emmeline, her face smiling in a Gotcha! Moment. Her hands firmly planted on her hips and her feet firmly planted to the ground. Sirius racked his brain for a solid ten seconds before he broke out into a grin and wrapped his arms around her. “Just dreaming about holding you like this your entire life. Like, I’m not letting go, ever. This is it, This is your life now.” He said as he picked Emmeline up and started to walk down the stairs with her protesting the entire way. 

Remus, James, and Lily exchanged a quick but meaningful glance, their eyes shining with surprise and amusement. "Well, I guess that’s my cue to get to bed," Lily declared, smoothly sliding off James' bed. Leaning down, she planted a tender kiss on James' forehead and ruffled his already messy hair. "Catch up with me before you take off tomorrow," she whispered softly.

"Will do, love. Goodnight," James whispered back, his fingertips delicately entwining in her silky hair as their lips melded together in a tender, lingering kiss. Time seemed to stand still in that moment, capturing the depth of their connection.

Sirius burst back into the room like a whirlwind of energy, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he feigned mock exasperation. "Oh, come on, seriously?" he exclaimed, his voice laced with playful theatrics, his duty of escorting Emmeline safely accomplished.

Lily's laughter bubbled forth, a symphony of joy, as she playfully strolled between Remus and Sirius, her hand gracefully waving above her head in a farewell gesture. "Night, boys!" she called out, the echoes of her mirthful laughter trailing behind her like a trail of stardust, as she embarked on her own path towards rest.

With a swift yet satisfying slam of the door, Sirius darted toward James, his exuberance nearly causing a collision with one of the sturdy wooden posts. "You sly dog, James!" Sirius exclaimed, his laughter contagious, as he warmly clapped his friend on the shoulder, celebrating the shared secret.

James joined in the laughter, his heart buoyed by the camaraderie. Shaking his head in a mixture of amusement and affection, he wore a knowing smile. "C’mon guys. You know I’m not going to say anything," he playfully chided, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief.

As the night settled around them, they readied themselves for slumber, their actions filled with a sense of calm anticipation. Although devoid of a steamy bedtime tale to accompany them into the realm of dreams, the warmth of their laughter and the unbreakable bond they shared would serve as a lullaby, gently guiding them into a peaceful and restful sleep.

~*~

Nestled under the quilt Mrs. Potter had lovingly made for her, in the familiar comfort of her four-poster bed, Rylie was basking in the warmth of late-night conversations with Emmeline and Alice. Emmeline had just been unceremoniously dropped off at the entrance of their dorm, red faced and told her to “Stay Put!” leaving all three girls to scratch their heads wondering what all the commotion was. Though Rylie has learned to just roll with the shenanigans that occurred in Gryffindor Tower. She smiled as she looked up as Emmeline collapsed onto her bed, muttering about how surprisingly strong Sirius was. The girls’ dormitory had become their nightly retreat, especially for Rylie, where they could freely share secrets and dreams under the protective veil of darkness.

Their fits of giggles and whispered chatter was a soothing melody, harmonizing with the wind outside that sang its own lullaby against the window panes. Rylie cherished these moments—these end-of-day confessions and heart-to-heart discussions that deepened their bond as friends. 

Suddenly, the door creaked open softly, casting a sliver of hallway light into the room that was quickly replaced by shadows as Lily slipped inside. Rylie turned her head to see Lily’s cheeks flushed a deep rose, her radiant smile contrasting with her apparent attempt to appear nonchalant. 

"What in Merlin's name was all that commotion about?" Rylie asked, her voice laced with amused curiosity. She shifted to sit up in her bed, pulling her quilt closer on her lap, her eyes never leaving Lily’s face.

“Yeah, what’s going on? I heard the commotion upstairs and it looked like Remus and Sirius were about to jump out of the tower." Emmeline chimed in, her voice touched with disappointment. "What happened?”she asked, perking up.

Rylie’s eyes twinkled playfully in the dim light, catching something sweet and significant in Lily’s demeanor. "LILY JEAN EVANS!" Rylie gasped dramatically, her tone equal parts scandalized and delighted. "Did you and James...?"

Lily buried her face in her hands, her blush deepening, but the laughter that escaped her was bright and unapologetic. "Yes, okay? We did," she admitted between giggles, peeking out from between her fingers at Rylie. "And then Sirius and Remus decided it was the perfect time for a surprise visit thankfully after we were done." Lily said with an exasperated sigh as she collapsed into her bed.

Rylie couldn't help but burst into warm laughter at that, feeling a rush of affection for her friend’s honesty and the utterly 'Marauder' situation she had found herself in.

Alice, with a playful edge, shook her head with mock disapproval, though her eyes danced with mirth. "Only those two would manage to have such impeccable timing," she said, her voice soft and warm.

Rylie laughed, truly laughed, for the first time in quite a while and in that moment, she wasn’t thinking about her mom, her funeral, or Evan’s parents. Just the love that she had for her friends and how lucky she was to have this chosen family. 

~*~

The morning sun bathed Professor McGonagall's office in a soft, warm light, but the atmosphere was far from comforting. Today, Rylie and James were leaving for Rylie’s former childhood home, where her father lived, and where they would stay before her mother's funeral the next day.

Rylie stood in a dark dress, the fabric a stark contrast to her pale skin. Her eyes, usually so full of life, seemed subdued today. In her hands, she held a small photograph of her mother, taken in what seemed to be the golden hour of a late summer day. Her mother, Anna, was caught mid-laughter in the photograph, her eyes twinkling with joy and her mouth open in a delighted smile. Her dark hair was cascading around her face in loose waves, highlighted by streaks of auburn that caught the sunlight just so. She was dressed in a simple, yet elegant, sundress that danced around her knees, the color of which was a soft pastel that complemented her warm complexion. In her arms, she held a younger Rylie, a toddler with cherubic cheeks and the same sparkling eyes. Behind them, a meadow stretched out, awash with the colors of blooming wildflowers, under a sky painted with strokes of pink and orange.

It was a snapshot of a simpler, happier time, a moment frozen when the worries of the world seemed nonexistent, and the bond between mother and daughter was as clear and radiant as the sun dipping below the horizon in the background.

Beside her, James stood tall, dressed in a smart black suit, his expression one of quiet support. He was both physically and emotionally present, exuding an air of steadfastness that was meant to reassure Rylie, even if he himself felt the sadness of the situation keenly.

Evan, appearing both composed yet undeniably hurt, stepped forward to say goodbye to Rylie. His eyes held a deep sadness, as he was forced to be parted from her during such a crucial time. He gently cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs lightly brushing away the tears welling in her eyes. "I wish I could be there with you," Evan whispered, his voice breaking ever so slightly. "But I’m thankful James will keep an eye on you.” he said with a small sad smile. 

Rylie nodded, her throat tight with emotion as she threw her arms around Evan in a tight embrace. "I love you," she breathed into his ear, clinging to him as if he were her lifeline. His familiar scent and the solid warmth of his body were small comforts, but they were enough for this moment.

"I love you too," Evan whispered back, his voice carrying a tenderness that made her heart ache all the more. He kissed the top of her head gently, trying to imprint this moment, this feeling, before they had to let go.

At the same time, Lily, with her compassionate and understanding demeanor, approached James. She reached up to gently brush a strand of hair from his forehead, her touch loving and gentle. "Take care of her, James," she whispered, her green eyes meeting his with deep sincerity.

"I will," James assured her, pulling Lily into a warm embrace. "And I’ll be back soon," he whispered into her ear, planting a soft kiss on her cheek that was both sweet and lingering, a promise.

Sensing the moment was drawing near, Professor McGonagall approached them with a small pot of Floo Powder. Her stern face softened as she took in the scene before her, and when she spoke, her voice was kind but laced with the gravitas of the situation. "Are you both ready?" she asked gently.

Rylie exhaled, a slow and deliberate action, steadying herself. The world seemed to teeter on this precipice, and the weight of what lay ahead pressed down on her chest. "Yeah.." she whispered, her voice soft but steady. She looked to James, whose presence was her anchor in this storm, and he nodded subtly, his eyes holding a silent promise of his unwavering support. In that glance, Rylie found the strength she needed to step forward.

Professor McGonagall handed her the Floo Powder, and as Rylie felt its grainy texture between her fingers, she was struck by the surreal nature of the moment. She was going home, but it was a home irrevocably changed. With James by her side, they stepped into the emerald embrace of the Floo Network's flames, and with a soft whoosh, they were transported away from the castle’s stone walls, toward Rylie’s childhood home.

As Rylie and James stepped into the emerald flames of the Floo Network, Evan stood stiffly, his eyes never leaving Rylie's form. He tried extremely hard to save face, to remain the stoic and unshakable presence he always tried to be, but as Rylie’s figure blurred into the spinning green fire, a tear escaped and slipped silently down his cheek. He was powerless, left behind when he so desperately wanted to be by her side during her darkest hour.

Lily, who was standing beside him, noticed the tear but didn’t draw attention to it. Instead, she reached over and gently rubbed Evan's back in a soothing motion, her touch light and compassionate. She understood, in her own way, the pain that he was feeling. She knew what it meant to love someone and to worry for them so deeply.

"Evan," she said softly, her voice warm and empathetic. "Let’s get something to eat before class. You shouldn't be alone right now."

Evan took a deep breath, and though it shuddered slightly on the exhale, he was clearly fighting to regain control of his emotions. He nodded, appreciating Lily’s kindness more than he could express in that moment. Her simple offer, an act of friendship and support, was a beacon of light in what felt like an otherwise darkening world.

"Thank you, Lily," he whispered, finally turning his gaze from the now empty fireplace to meet her eyes. In them, he saw not pity, but genuine concern and friendship, and in that moment, he felt profoundly grateful for her presence.

~*~

With a whoosh and a gentle lurch, James and Rylie emerged from the spinning emerald flames of the Floo Network and into Rylie's childhood home. The setting was at once familiar and unfamiliar, a poignant mix of memories and loss that seemed to permeate the walls.

James stepped out of the fireplace and took in the surroundings. The living room was a blend of the magical and muggle worlds, a testament to the unique union of Rylie's parents. He could see the magical portraits of Rylie's family on the walls, their subjects animated and smiling, adjacent to a muggle television set that sat as a relic of a simpler time.

As James’ eyes roamed the room, his mind drifted back to happier days. He could almost hear the sound of laughter echoing through the house. He remembered the nights when he, Sirius, Remus, and Rylie gathered in this very room, sprawled out on the comfortable sofas with bowls of popcorn that Anna, Rylie’s mother, had lovingly prepared. They would sit and watch muggle movies, a novelty that fascinated the wizarding boys, their faces lit by the flickering screen as Anna explained the nuances of muggle life.

A particularly vivid memory played in James' mind: the four of them, young and carefree, standing in the kitchen covered in flour and cookie dough. What had started as a simple baking endeavor had quickly devolved into a playful food fight, instigated, of course, by Sirius. James could still see Rylie's face, bright and laughing, as she lobbed a handful of dough at Remus. Anna had walked in, and instead of scolding them, she’d joined in with an impish grin that matched her daughter's. Those had been times of pure, unburdened joy.

The contrast between that memory and the current reality was stark and aching. The home, once buzzing with life and warmth, now felt eerily quiet and still. The absence of Anna, a woman who had become almost like a second mother to him, hung heavy in the air.

Rylie slowly walked further into the living room, her feet moving almost of their own accord. The room seemed to echo with memories; every corner held a story, every object a shared moment from the past. She could still picture her mother, vibrant and loving, moving about this space.

James followed Rylie closely, giving her the physical space she might need but remaining close enough to offer support. He observed as her eyes lingered on a family portrait above the fireplace, her parents smiling warmly and Rylie as a young girl, her face alight with joy. She was honestly surprised the portrait was still up despite the divorce. 

"It’s like I can still feel her here," Rylie murmured, her voice soft but carrying through the quiet room. "Everywhere I look, I see her. The way she'd sit here reading, or how she'd hum a tune while cooking in the kitchen."

James' heart ached for his friend. He remembered Anna's kindness, the way she'd welcome them all into this home, treating each of them like her own. He could vividly recall her laughter, her wise and comforting words, and the unconditional love she’d showered upon Rylie.

Seeing Rylie so raw and vulnerable, James felt an overwhelming surge of empathy. He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders in a protective, comforting gesture. "She’s still here, Rylie," he whispered, his tone gentle and reassuring. "In all these memories, in this home, and in you. Your mum’s love isn't something that can just vanish. She’s a part of you, and she always will be."

Rylie leaned into James, allowing his warmth and strength to bolster her own. For a moment, she closed her eyes, as if trying to breathe in the lingering essence of her mother in the home they had shared. She felt James' arm tighten ever so slightly around her, a steadfast promise of his unwavering support.

With a deep breath, she opened her eyes again, meeting James’ gaze with a profound gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered, the simple words heavy with meaning. "Thank you for being here, James. I don’t think I could do this without you."

James offered her a tender smile, his eyes reflecting the depth of their friendship. "There’s no place I’d rather be," he replied sincerely as he wrapped both arms protectively around her.. "We’re family, Rylie. I’m here for you, every step of the way." he whispered as he kissed the top of her head. 

As they stood in the comforting embrace of each other's friendship, the sound of the front door creaking open interrupted the moment. They turned to see Nathan stepping into the house, his face showing the strain of the recent, heartbreaking events. He was a tall man, with a stern countenance that belied the warmth in his eyes – eyes so similar to Rylie’s.

"Rylie, James," Nathan greeted, his deep voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of sadness. He closed the door behind him gently and walked further into the room. "I'm glad you're here," he added, though he seemed unsure of what else to say, a man more accustomed to action than words.

Rylie disentangled herself from James and took a step towards her father, her expression complex. "Dad," she replied softly, her voice carrying a blend of affection and tension. She was caught between the desire to hug him tightly, as she might have done as a child, and the instinct to hold back, mindful of the emotional distance that had grown between them.

Nathan’s eyes, usually so guarded, softened as he looked at his daughter. In that moment, he seemed to age before their eyes, the weight of his own grief and regret making him seem more vulnerable than Rylie had ever seen him.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," Nathan whispered, finally bridging the gap and pulling Rylie into a tentative embrace. It was a rare gesture from him, and it held a world of meaning.

Rylie's breath hitched, and she allowed herself to sink into her father's arms, feeling a flicker of the safety and comfort that she had long associated with her parents. "I know, Dad," she replied, her voice quivering with emotion. "I know."

James watched the scene unfold with empathy, his heart aching for both Rylie and Nathan. He respected Nathan for his strength but knew that his stoicism had often been a barrier between him and Rylie, especially given Anna's naturally warm and open demeanor.

After a moment, Nathan gently and somewhat awkwardly released Rylie, stepping back to regain his composure. His hands dropped to his sides, and he cleared his throat. "C’mon, let’s get you settled in," he said, his tone shifting back to a more business-like, guarded demeanor, avoiding the emotional depths they had just briefly touched upon. 

Rylie nodded, sensing her father’s retreat into the familiar territory of practical matters. She wiped at her eyes and took a deep breath, preparing herself for the difficult day ahead. "Thanks Dad," she said softly.

The dinner that evening was a subdued affair, the dining table laden with food that Nathan had prepared, but the atmosphere heavy with the impending events of the next day. They ate mostly in silence, the clinking of silverware against plates the predominant sound in the room. Occasional attempts at conversation were made, but words seemed to hang awkwardly in the air, neither fully landing nor dissipating.

Later, in an attempt to lighten the mood and distract from their looming sorrow, James and Rylie settled into the family room. The flickering glow of the television painted the room in soft, shifting light as they sat side by side on the couch. A bowl of popcorn rested between them, their hands occasionally meeting as they both reached for a handful. The familiar act was oddly comforting, reminiscent of so many nights they had spent in this exact manner.

Every so often, a particularly funny scene would play out on the screen, eliciting genuine chuckles from both of them. Each time Rylie laughed, she would quickly catch herself, a shadow crossing her face as guilt for finding humor during such a time crept in. But James, sensing this, gently squeezed her hand and leaned close to whisper, "It’s okay to laugh, Ry. Your mum would want you to keep finding joy, even now."

She offered him a grateful, watery smile in return, and they continued to watch, allowing themselves those brief pockets of lightness.

When it was time to retire, they said goodnight, and James headed to the guest room, a space that was familiar yet foreign in its present context. Rylie, meanwhile, walked into her old bedroom, a room that was a rich tapestry of her life. Muggle posters of various music artists—The Beatles, David Bowie—shared wall space with vibrant Quidditch posters of the Holyhead Harpies. The room was a testament to her dual heritage, the wizarding and Muggle worlds coexisting harmoniously just as they had in her family.

Pinned to a corkboard on the wall were various pieces of artwork she had created as a child, some clearly the earnest attempts of a very young hand, others more sophisticated as she had grown older. Nearby, a small shelf held a collection of Muggle novels and wizarding textbooks side by side, while a photograph of her parents, smiling and waving gently, occupied a place of honor on her bedside table.

As Rylie lay in her bed, the familiar surroundings offered a bittersweet comfort. The room was a living memory, a snapshot of a simpler, happier time. She curled under the covers, her mother’s lingering scent still faintly detectable on the sheets as the tears slowly began to slip down her cheeks. 

As James settled into the guest room, he couldn’t help but be attuned to the soft, muffled sounds of sorrow that drifted through the quiet house. Recognizing Rylie’s stifled cries, his heart tightened in empathy. It was a pain he wished he could take away for her, if only for a moment.

Quietly, he rose from his bed and made his way down the hallway to Rylie’s room. He tapped softly at the door before entering, not wanting to startle her but needing to be close to her in this moment. "Ry?" he whispered gently, his voice laced with concern.

Rylie looked up from where she lay, her eyes red and puffy but also relieved at the sight of James. She nodded slightly, granting him permission to approach. Without a word, James moved across the room and lay down beside her on top of the blankets, his presence warm but mindful of boundaries. He grabbed a spare blanket that was draped over her desk chair and wrapped it around himself.

As he reached out and gently pulled Rylie into his arms, they both felt a familiar warmth, an echo of their past, that neither had felt in a while. In his arms, she felt so right—like a missing puzzle piece clicking back into place. There was a deep love there that had shifted and matured over the years; it was different now but it was still palpable, undeniable. Yet, both of them knew that now was neither the time nor the place to act upon those feelings.

"It’s okay, let it out," James murmured softly, "It’s okay.." he repeated. 

Her presence was comforting and familiar in a way that nobody else's could be. He felt her breath against his skin and it brought a flood of memories from when they were younger, more carefree. It tugged at his heart, a bittersweet reminder of what they once shared.

Held securely in James’ arms, Rylie felt a deep, grounding solace amid her grief. In that tender embrace, she cried until her tears were spent and her breaths grew steady and deep. Gradually, in the comfort of her lifelong friend’s presence, Rylie drifted into a fitful but much-needed sleep.

And as she slept, James lay awake for a while longer, holding her close, the past and present mingling in that quiet, poignant moment. A part of him would always love Rylie, and he knew the sentiment was mutual, but they had both grown and their paths had diverged. Silently, he promised to always be there for her, in whatever way she needed, as her steadfast friend.

~*~

The next morning, Rylie awoke to the soft light filtering through the curtains of her childhood room. She turned to find James still beside her, his steady breathing indicating a deep sleep. For a fleeting moment, the warmth of him next to her felt like a balm for her aching soul, a reminder that she wasn't navigating this heartbreak alone.

But then reality set in, along with a touch of awkwardness. They were friends—very close friends—and yet waking up beside James brought back echoes of deeper emotions from years gone by. She gently extracted herself from his arms, trying not to wake him, and cast him a tender, grateful look as she quietly got out of bed.

As the morning wore on, the house became a buzz of quiet activity. They brushed their teeth, picked out clothes, and helped each other straighten ties and zip up dresses. Rylie chose a simple, elegant black dress that her mother had loved, while James wore a classic black suit. As they prepared, the air was thick with unspoken emotion; every action was imbued with the weight of the day ahead.

Eventually, dressed in their somber funeral attire, Rylie and James walked side by side to the cemetery just a few blocks away from the house. Their steps were heavy, the world seeming to move in slow motion as they approached the inevitable.

The funeral itself was a gathering of both magical and Muggle friends and family—an intersection of two worlds that Anna had effortlessly bridged throughout her life. The service was beautiful and heartfelt, with spoken eulogies that captured Anna’s generous spirit and radiant love for life. Yet, as touching as the words were, they were also a stark reminder that Anna was gone, and they were here to say goodbye.

Rylie's face remained stoic throughout the ceremony. It was as if she had cried all her tears the night before, and now there was nothing left but a profound, hollow emptiness. People approached her throughout the service to offer their condolences, their words kind but inconsequential in the face of her loss. She nodded politely to each one, her expression unreadable but her eyes betraying a deep, enduring sadness.

Beside her, Nathan, Rylie’s father, stood as a stoic figure, an inscrutable expression carved into his features. Despite the tempest of emotions surely whirling within him, he remained steadfast, his posture rigid and his gaze fixed intently on the casket that held Anna, his once vibrant and loving wife. In contrast to his daughter’s youth, his face was etched with the lines of a life lived, now marred by fresh grief.

Every so often, as the minister's words washed over the mourners like a comforting but sorrowful melody, Nathan's strong hand would reach for Rylie's, finding her slender fingers and squeezing gently. It was a silent, shared recognition of their loss. In those small, fleeting touches, a world of love and pain was exchanged—a poignant connection between a father and daughter, now united in mourning the woman who had been the center of their universe.

Standing with quiet strength, James was a constant, grounding presence at Rylie’s side. His silence spoke volumes; he didn't need to say anything—his being there was a testament of support in itself. When Rylie’s hand trembled, the funeral program quivering like a leaf caught in an autumn breeze, James’ hand covered hers with a steady, reassuring grip. His touch was warm, grounding—a silent vow that he was there for her, just as he had been the night before, a pillar when her world seemed to be crumbling around her.

As the ceremony concluded and Anna's casket was tenderly lowered into the earth, marking a somber and irreversible farewell, Rylie felt James’ arm wrap firmly yet gently around her shoulders in a protective embrace. His closeness brought a modicum of warmth to the chill that the grief had draped over her. In that moment, amid the stark finality and the deep, wrenching sorrow, Rylie felt a swell of gratitude rise within her chest. She wasn't alone; in this bleak moment, James was her anchor, and she clung to his support as though it were a lifeline.

Chapter Text

Upon returning to the house after the funeral, an oppressive silence seemed to hang in the air, a stark contrast to the warm, inviting home it used to be. Nathan, Rylie's father, was the first to break it.

He cleared his throat gently and turned to face his daughter, his expression softer, but visibly strained. “I need to go to the Ministry,” he said quietly, his eyes holding Rylie’s for a moment that was both tender and painful. The words, heavy with unspoken meaning, were a painful reminder of the dark truth that lay behind Anna’s death. The room seemed to contract at his words, the tension palpable but muted, like a sorrowful undercurrent.

“I’ll be back later,” Nathan added, his voice steady but tinged with regret. He reached out and gently cupped Rylie's cheek, a simple, loving gesture that spoke volumes. “I'm sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered, the stoic mask he wore cracking just enough to let his profound sadness shine through. With that, he turned and left, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing sharply in the suddenly empty space, like a period at the end of a sentence nobody wanted to read.

Left in the echoing silence of the now vacant house, Rylie’s eyes drifted to the liquor cabinet in the corner of the family room. A desperate need to feel something other than this hollow, aching grief spurred her into action. In that moment, Rylie felt the sharp sting of abandonment—another profound loss in a day already saturated with sorrow. Her father, her rock, leaving her once again when she needed him most. It was as if the walls of the house, so full of cherished memories, were closing in on her, each corner a vivid reminder of a happier time that seemed like a distant fantasy now.

Tears welled in her eyes but didn't fall; it was as if she had cried so much that her body had no tears left to give. She felt James’ presence beside her, steady and solid, but in that instant, even that wasn’t enough. She moved almost mechanically towards the liquor cabinet, her hands surprisingly steady as she reached for a bottle. Any bottle—it didn't matter. She needed a release, an escape, a small respite from the crushing weight of her reality.

"Rylie..." James’ voice was gentle, filled with worry and understanding in equal measure. He didn't try to stop her, but his tone was edged with a silent plea. He knew, as well as she did, that this path was a perilous one. But he also understood the depth of her pain in a way that few others could.

Ignoring the tremor in her voice, Rylie responded, her words a whisper, "I just need something to take the edge off, James. Just for tonight," she said as she grabbed a bottle of fire whiskey and a bottle of rum, holding them both by the neck in each hand as she turned to face him. Her eyes, still red and puffy from tears, met his in a vulnerable plea.

In that fraught moment, they shared a heavy, knowing glance. The air between them was charged, a complex tangle of grief, comfort, and a dangerous spark of something more—a line they were perilously close to crossing, but neither had the strength nor the will to pull away from it tonight. The ache of their shared loss acted like a magnet, pulling them closer in their shared moment of weakness.

James, whose eyes held a profound depth of emotion, still emotionally raw but willing to support Rylie in whatever way she needed, hesitated for only a moment before nodding. In his eyes, Rylie could see his own pain mirrored—pain for Anna, pain for Rylie, and pain for the situation they were in. It was a silent acknowledgment that they were in this agonizing moment together.

“Alright,” he agreed softly, his voice carrying a note of concern but also understanding. His eyes never left hers, communicating more than words ever could—that he was there with her, in this space, and that he, too, felt the inexorable pull of wanting to drown out the world for just a little while. 

He knew, sometimes, people needed an escape, especially when faced with unbearable pain. Tonight, they would escape together, even if it was only for a fleeting moment before reality set in once more.

As the evening wore on, shot glasses were emptied and refilled repeatedly. With each passing hour, the weight of the day seemed to lift ever so slightly, replaced by the warm, numbing haze of alcohol. They sat on the couch, shoulder to shoulder, their laughter mingled with the sounds of the television playing mindlessly in the background.

Rylie caught James’s eye as he made a particularly ridiculous comment about the TV show they were only half-watching, her laughter bubbling up in a way that it hadn't in weeks. "You're ridiculous," she said warmly, her eyes shining with affection as she playfully nudged him with her shoulder.

He chuckled and nudged her back, his touch lingering just a second longer than it needed to. "Only the best for you," he replied, his voice softer now, carrying a note of tenderness that wasn’t just the result of the alcohol.  Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the TV, the room, and the entire world seemed to fade away. There was a palpable shift in the air, a crossing into territory that was both familiar and perilously new. 

"You've always known how to make me laugh," Rylie whispered, her face drawing closer to James’s. Her hand, almost of its own accord, reached up to gently brush a strand of hair from his forehead. The touch was charged, intimate, and sent a shiver down both their spines.

James’s hand found its way to Rylie’s cheek, his thumb caressing her skin softly. "And you," he whispered back, "have always had this incredible, radiant energy that lights up everything around you." His words were earnest, his gaze deep and unwavering. In that heated, alcohol-fueled moment, their past and present seemed to collide. There was a sudden awareness between them, an understanding of the thin line they were teetering on, but in that moment, neither pulled away.

Instead, drawn together by the raw emotions of the day, the comfort of their friendship, and the undeniable spark that had never completely vanished, they closed the gap and their lips finally met. It was deep and passionate, a mix of their shared history, their present circumstances, and a longing neither had allowed themselves to acknowledge for a very long time.

The kiss was a storm of emotions — passion, comfort, nostalgia, and the aching, visceral need to feel loved and not alone in that dark moment.

As they continued, a part of Rylie’s mind, still painfully clear despite the alcohol, screamed in protest. She was acutely aware that Evan, her devoted and loving boyfriend, was miles away, trusting her, loving her, while she was here, crossing a line she never thought she would. But in that heated moment, with James' lips on hers and his hands tracing familiar yet forgotten paths on her skin, she pushed that sobering thought forcefully out of her mind.

As James deepened the kiss, Rylie felt herself responding with an intensity that matched his own. Her hands tangled into his hair, pulling him closer, as if trying to anchor herself to something in the midst of the swirling chaos inside her. Their bodies pressed closer together, each touch, each breath shared between them escalating the situation further until they were down to their underwear, the rest of their clothes suddenly finding their way to the floor. They were fully entwined with each, their hands exploring what felt like a memory that had been rediscovered. 

In this compromising position, with the heat of James’ body against hers and the intoxicating taste of his kiss clouding her judgment, Rylie allowed herself to sink further into the moment, the outside world and all its complicated realities momentarily forgotten. The room around them seemed to dissolve into irrelevance as they clung to each other desperately, seeking comfort and escape in a way that was as passionate as it was perilous. In that instant, neither Rylie nor James were thinking about the consequences; they were drowning in a deep, powerful connection that they had both long since tried to bury.

As their kisses deepened, James' hands moved tenderly down her back, finding the curve of her bum and giving it a squeeze, causing a gasp from Rylie’s lips. She found herself raising her hips into him, every touch igniting a spark within her that the alcohol had only fanned into flame. Her own hands traced the lines of his shoulders and chest, their shared past and deep connection making everything feel dangerously right in this vulnerable moment.

Despite the sharp pang of guilt that twisted in her stomach, and the fleeting image of Evan’s face that darted through her mind, Rylie pushed the thought forcefully away. Right now, in this room, with James’ lips on her skin, she could forget. Forget the pain, forget the loss, forget the reality that waited for her outside this bubble they had created. The warmth in the room seemed to intensify, reflecting the heat between them. 

“Oh god…” Rylie whispered against James’ lips, the heat of their closeness making her skin tingle. Deep down, a rational part of her screamed that this wasn’t a good idea, that this was a line they shouldn’t cross, but that thought was quickly pushed away by the wave of desire and the raw ache of her heart. "Just for tonight," she whispered again, her voice a quivering blend of longing and despair, trembling as though she were on the edge of a precipice, staring into the unknown.

Feeling Rylie’s breath, warm and inviting, James found his resolve weakening, his self-control unraveling. As he echoed her words, a heavy sigh escaping his throat, he felt as though he were surrendering to a force much larger than himself. "Just for tonight," he’d said, his voice strained and deep, and though he tried to frame it as a promise of temporary comfort, he knew the magnitude of the step they were taking together.

Their bodies were drawn closer, as if guided by a magnetism neither could resist. Hands began to roam with more urgency, each touch a balm for their shared pain, yet also a spark that threatened to ignite the kindling of their long-suppressed feelings. In that precarious moment, under the spell of alcohol and their intimate past, they teetered on a dangerous edge, fully aware yet seemingly powerless to retreat.

In that moment, as he held Rylie close, he was acutely aware of the warmth of her body and the intoxicating scent of her hair. He felt her hands, delicate but insistent, as they moved over his shoulders and back, pulling him closer still. Each touch was a poignant reminder of a past they'd left behind, but which seemed to have reawakened so fiercely and unexpectedly tonight.

He could feel the beating of her heart against his chest, as rapid and erratic as his own, and it grounded him in the dizzying reality of their situation. James knew this was a precarious, potentially life-altering path. Part of him, the steadfast and rational part, was shouting that this could irreparably alter his relationship with Rylie and deeply hurt Evan and Lily. But that voice was growing fainter with each passing second, overshadowed by the immediate and raw comfort he found in Rylie's closeness.

In that moment, he made a choice. A choice to be selfish, to reclaim a sliver of happiness amidst the chaos, to give and take comfort where it could be found — even if just for tonight. 

He tenderly brushed a strand of hair from Rylie’s face, his eyes searching hers for a lingering trace of hesitation, but finding only a profound, shared longing. With a breath that felt like a leap, he whispered, “We’ll face tomorrow, tomorrow,” and gently pressed his lips to hers once more, surrendering to the intense emotion that had overtaken them both.

They made quick work to remove the last articles of clothing that acted as a barrier between them. He felt Rylie tremble below him as he slowly pushed himself inside her. He felt a surge of passion that was almost overwhelming. It was familiar, yet wholly different—tinged with a mix of longing, comfort, and melancholy that was unique to this tangled, poignant moment. In that instant, he allowed himself to forget about the promises to others that were on the brink of being broken.

Rylie, on the other hand, felt the same storm inside her — a tempest of emotions that she hadn't anticipated but now embraced wholeheartedly. She gasped, her eyes widening and then softening as she started to adjust to him. Her fingers gently tangled in his hair as she began to move against him,  a sensation that was both grounding and exhilarating, anchoring her in the reality of their closeness.

Every touch, every breath they shared was magnified in its intensity, as if the world outside this room, outside this moment, had ceased to exist. James could feel Rylie's body fit so perfectly against his, her presence easing the raw, aching pain that the day had left on his soul.

Meanwhile, Rylie’s heart raced in her chest, the familiar yet new sensation of James' hands exploring the contours of her body making her feel both vulnerable and cherished. Despite the alcohol blurring the edges of her consciousness, this felt piercingly real, and she clung to him, as if he were her anchor in this storm of emotions.

Their kisses deepened and became more urgent as their bodies began to move faster as well. James, in his slightly drunken, emotionally charged state, was fully present — here and now — the way Rylie’s warmth was mingling with his own, the way her soft sighs harmonized with his deeper breaths.

As they continued to lose themselves in each other, both were acutely aware that they were on the cusp of irrevocably changing the dynamics of their lives. Rylie, whose mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, found comfort in James' steady embrace, allowing the outside world and its impending consequences to momentarily fade away.

In these stolen moments, as they crossed a line they both knew was significant, James couldn't help but feel a profound connection with Rylie that he had never truly lost. And Rylie, in this complicated, messy moment, felt the same — they were each other’s solace, and that was a truth neither could escape. 

~*~

As morning light filtered through the curtains, Rylie stirred, slowly coming to consciousness. She felt warmth surrounding her, a comforting presence she hadn’t felt in years. Blinking her eyes open, she found herself tangled up with James, their limbs intertwined under the soft blankets. Somehow they made it to her bedroom? Her head was nestled into his chest, his steady heartbeat a soothing sound that brought an involuntary smile to her lips. For a brief moment, it felt natural, right, like a memory of a simpler time. 

But then reality struck. Her memories from the night before weren’t dreams; they were vivid and real. Panic tightened in her chest, and guilt washed over her like a cold tide. Evan. The name shot through her mind like a lightning bolt, and her stomach twisted into knots.

Beside her, James was already awake, his eyes tracing the soft features of Rylie’s face with a blend of tenderness and regret. He’d woken just minutes before, his mind a storm of conflicting emotions. Happiness from the closeness they’d found the night before was quickly overshadowed by the profound understanding of the boundaries they had crossed. He'd always care for Rylie, more than just a friend, but last night wasn't supposed to happen. He knew this as he felt Rylie's tension rise beside him.

He let out a soft, sorrowful sigh. "Rylie," James whispered, his voice carrying the weight of the situation, “We...” he trailed off, not even knowing how to finish the sentence. Apologizing felt wrong because the night had felt so right at the time, but he knew they couldn't just pretend nothing happened.

Rylie met James' eyes, her own welling with tears that weren’t solely from the events of the day before. "I know," she whispered back, her voice breaking. "I know, James."

In this fragile morning light, they were two friends, bound by a deep love and a complicated history, now facing the consequences of a night where comfort had turned into something more. The room seemed to close in on them. Every emotion was palpable – love, regret, friendship, and a deep sadness that went beyond words. James could feel Rylie’s every breath, each one more pained than the last, and he knew he was echoing those same ragged breaths.

“I’m sorry,” James finally managed to say, his voice nearly cracking under the strain of the words. It was a truth, but it was also more complex than that; he was sorry for the pain this would inevitably cause, but not necessarily sorry for the comfort they had found in each other in a dark moment. He was sorry for the tangled mess they had woven with others who were not in that room but were still very much a part of this complicated equation.

Rylie shook her head gently, her fingers absentmindedly playing with a strand of James’s hair. “Don’t be,” she replied softly. “We’re human, James. We’re grieving, and we were seeking solace. We found it, even if just for a night.” She paused, biting her lower lip as if to steady herself. “But it can’t be more than that. For Evan’s sake, and for Lily’s, and… for ours.”

James nodded slowly, painfully aware of the wisdom in Rylie’s words. He gently cupped her cheek with his hand, a gesture that was tender and not fueled by the previous night’s emotions. “You’re right,” he conceded, his thumb gently wiping away a tear that had escaped from Rylie's eye. “We crossed a line, and we can’t uncross it. But we can choose where we go from here.”

In that instant, as their eyes locked, they held each other’s gaze with an intensity that seemed to pause time itself. In those eyes – rich with history, pain, and undeniable connection – an unspoken understanding passed between them. They were standing at a precipice, emotionally bare and acutely aware of the potential fallout of their actions. Their world, with all its complex relationships and fragile peace, teetered in the balance.

“We keep this between us,” Rylie whispered, her voice steady but laden with emotion. Her eyes, usually so vibrant, now carried a weight that James felt deep in his chest, a raw, poignant vulnerability. “A secret, buried here and now. We move forward, for everyone involved, including ourselves.” It was a plea, a pact, a line drawn to preserve what they both held dear.

James’ response was slow and deliberate. He pressed his forehead gently against hers, their breaths mingling in the close space between them, creating a cocoon that momentarily isolated them from the rest of the world. It was a gesture that felt almost sacred in its intimacy, solidifying their pact in this fragile moment.

“Agreed,” he whispered back, his voice imbued with a solemnity that matched hers. The word wasn’t just an acknowledgement; it was a vow, steeped in the deep respect and love he still held for Rylie, a promise to protect not just their own hearts, but the hearts of those they cared for most. “It stays between us.” 

In that breath, a promise was sealed, an agreement to navigate the treacherous waters of what they’d just shared while safeguarding the world outside this room.

In the soft morning light, the room seemed to lose some of its weight. For a moment, it was just them, in a quiet, almost comforting bubble that belied the storm of emotions brewing within both of them.

Slowly disentangling themselves, they began to rise from the bed, the stark reality of their actions settling in like a cold fog. The room, with its walls adorned with remnants of Rylie's past and her dual heritage of muggle and magical cultures, felt like a poignant reminder of the life she had led up to this point – one that was now inevitably altered.

Rylie sat up, pulling the sheets around her in a subconscious act of self-preservation. The cool morning light filtering through the curtains cast a soft glow on her face, highlighting her thoughtful, if somewhat pained, expression. She looked at James, her best, most cherished friend, and in that moment, she saw the raw, unfiltered pain that mirrored her own. "We can't hide in here all day,” she said, her voice almost a whisper but carrying a strength she wasn’t sure she felt.

James nodded, his eyes never leaving Rylie’s. In her gaze, he saw the complicated mixture of emotions that he knew were reflected in his own eyes – regret, sorrow, but also an undeniable tenderness. He was acknowledging not just her words but the underlying need for them both to confront the reality they were now part of. Gently, he pushed himself up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his movement purposeful but devoid of its usual confidence. 

“I know,” James replied softly, running a hand through his messy hair as if trying to comb away the previous night's mistakes. The gesture was so quintessentially James that it made Rylie’s heart ache in a bittersweet way. “I refuse to let this ruin our friendship.”  he continued, a trace of vulnerability slipping into his voice that he seldom showed to anyone but Rylie.

“We’ll be okay.” He said as he turned to her, then hesitated as he saw a glimmer of fear in Rylie’s eyes. “…Right?” In that question, loaded with uncertainty, was the fear of what they might have risked and the hope that their deep, foundational friendship could withstand the storm they had just weathered.

Rylie reached out, her hand finding James's in a gesture that was equal parts comfort and reassurance. Her fingers gently squeezed his, grounding them both in that simple touch. “We’ll be okay,” she affirmed, though her voice quivered ever so slightly, betraying the enormity of that promise. "We've survived worse, and we have each other," she added, offering a weak but genuine smile that James returned, albeit with a shadow of sadness. 

In that moment, their hands entwined, they solidified the silent pact they'd made: to move forward, to protect their secret, and to fiercely guard the friendship that had been the bedrock of their lives for so long. They shared another long, searching look, both silently asking for and offering forgiveness. 

Rylie slowly slid off the bed, taking special care to wrap her blanket around her as she stood, suddenly realizing they were both naked. “I’m going to jump in the shower.” She said softly as she crossed the room to the bathroom that was attached to her room. 

As Rylie announced her intention, James looked up, his eyes still carrying the weight of the night's emotions but also a flicker of warmth and tenderness. He could see the vulnerability in her movements, a subtle tension in her shoulders that he longed to ease.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked gently, his tone careful but sincere. He wasn't attempting to reignite the previous night’s intensity; instead, he was offering his presence as comfort, a continuation of their shared solace.

Rylie paused for a moment and then nodded, her expression softening. "Yeah," she whispered, almost relieved. "I'd like that."

In that simple exchange, there was a quiet acknowledgement between them. In the midst of their complicated reality, they were still each other’s sanctuary, at least for this fleeting moment.

James rose gracefully from the bed and followed Rylie into the bathroom. As they stepped into the warm embrace of the water, it was as if they were trying to wash away the pain and uncertainty that clung to them both. In that space, they stood as two friends, raw and exposed in more ways than one, drawing strength from each other. 

As the warm water cascaded over them, Rylie leaned her head back and allowed the stream to flow through her hair and down her back. It was soothing, grounding, and for a moment it allowed her to escape from the chaotic whirlpool of emotions that had been her life these past days. In that instant, she could almost imagine that everything was okay.

Beside her, James noticed her serene expression and felt a surge of affection for her. He reached for the shampoo, lathering his hands, and began to gently massage it through Rylie's hair. It was a tender, intimate gesture, meant to comfort rather than inflame.

Rylie’s eyes fluttered closed at the sensation, and she let out a slow breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Thank you,” she whispered, the simple words heavy with gratitude and deeper meanings. 

James’ response was to press a soft, platonic kiss to her forehead, his own form of a comforting embrace. "We're in this together," he whispered back, reassuring her as well as himself.

In that simple shower, they found a moment of peace amidst the storm that awaited them beyond that bathroom door, a storm they both knew they’d have to face sooner rather than later. But for now, in this fleeting instant, they allowed themselves to just be there for each other, as friends helping to heal one another’s wounds.

As James continued to gently massage the shampoo through Rylie's hair, her breath hitched slightly at the sensation. It wasn't just the physical touch; it was the emotional intimacy of the moment that struck a chord deep within her. His hands, skilled and tender, were reigniting a spark between them that they had vowed to contain.

Feeling the tension rise, Rylie turned to face James, her eyes searching his. They were close, so close that she could see the conflict mirrored in his hazel eyes — that same blend of desire and hesitation that she was grappling with.

In response, James’ hands slowed but didn't stop. They moved from her hair down to her shoulders, thumbs gently rubbing circles in a gesture that was simultaneously soothing and electrifying. He swallowed hard, his own resolve wavering under her gaze.

“We…” he started, his voice rough and heavy with emotion, “We need to be careful.”

Rylie nodded slowly, her heart racing but her mind crystal clear. “I know,” she whispered in agreement. “I know.”

In that moment, their determination wavered. The undeniable sparks between them made it increasingly challenging to maintain the boundaries they knew they should uphold. With a deep breath, Rylie leaned up, capturing his lips with her own. James sighed into the kiss, enveloping her in his embrace, as they kissed fervently, as if it were their last.

A soft groan escaped James as he felt his body respond to her touch, compelling him to instinctively turn her around and press her back against the shower wall. His mouth moved with eagerness, while his hand traced down her side, finding its destination between her legs.

Rylie couldn't help but whimper, squirming against him as he skillfully worked his fingers. "James..." she whispered, her voice carrying a pleading tone.

Intoxicated once again, but not by alcohol, rather by pure passion, James responded with a soft groan. In one swift movement that caught Rylie completely off guard, he lifted her up, causing her to wrap her legs around his waist. Without hesitation, he entered her, evoking a gasp from Rylie that melted into a long moan.

As James buried his face in her neck, his lips trailed along her skin. Despite being perfectly sober, he was acutely aware that he shouldn't be engaging in this act. He knew it was an awful idea. However, rationality escaped him when he felt her hands clutching his shoulders and heard her breath growing more ragged with every movement they made together.

Their desire quickly consumed them. Rylie's body convulsed, overwhelmed by a powerful wave of pleasure, her primal groans swallowed by James' lips as he, too, reached his climax. They remained still for a moment, their breathing ragged as they clung to each other, their bodies tingling with the aftermath of their passion. Gradually, James stepped back, aiding Rylie in finding her balance. She wobbled slightly, her hands firmly planted on his upper arms.

As the warm water continued to cascade over them, James and Rylie stood in the shower, close yet worlds apart in that moment. They were both breathing heavily, remnants of their shared passion lingering like the steam that enveloped them, but the atmosphere had shifted dramatically.

In their eyes, there was a storm of emotions—love, guilt, confusion, and a deep connection that neither of them had expected to rekindle so intensely. The promise they had made to each other, 'just for tonight,' seemed now like a distant echo, a line crossed and blurred until it was unrecognizable.

Rylie was the first to break the charged silence, but not with words. Instead, she turned her back to James and stepped back under the direct stream of the shower. Her movements were deliberate and composed, a stark contrast to the raw intimacy they had just shared. It was as though she was using the simple act of rinsing her hair as a way to put physical and emotional distance between them, to regain control over the swirling emotions within her.

James watched her for a moment, his chest tightening at the sight. He wished he could read her mind, wished he could find the right words to say, but he was equally lost in the storm of his own feelings. He knew they were in precarious territory—what had just happened between them wasn't something that could be easily brushed under the rug, and the potential ramifications were vast and uncertain.

With a silent sigh, he turned his attention back to the shower, mimicking Rylie’s movements in a subconscious echo. He let the water run over him, as though it could wash away the complexity of what they had just done, knowing deep inside that it wasn’t that simple.

In that instant, they were two people bound by a profound intimacy and a deep history, yet standing on the precipice of an unknown future, neither quite ready to face what this meant for them and the world outside this shower.

With the water finally turned off, the absence of its sound seemed to magnify the silence between them. Rylie was the first to step out of the shower, reaching for a towel with a sort of mechanical grace. She avoided James’ eyes as she wrapped the soft fabric around her, a clear but silent signal that the vulnerability of the moment had passed.

James followed suit, exiting the shower a moment later. He grabbed a separate towel, his movements slower, more hesitant. As he dried himself, he couldn’t help but steal glances at Rylie, trying to gauge her emotions, but her expression remained unreadable—a careful mask.

The air in the bathroom had become thick with tension, a stark contrast to the unity they had found just minutes earlier under the warm water. Now, each movement, each rustle of fabric as they dressed, felt weighted with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

Rylie slipped into her clothes methodically, focusing on the simple tasks of pulling her shirt over her head and buttoning up her jeans as if they were lifelines to normalcy. Her hands were steady, but the set of her shoulders told a different story—one of conflict and unease.

James, now pulling his own shirt over his head, found his voice caught in his throat. He wanted to say something—anything—to bridge the gap that had opened between them, but he was acutely aware that the wrong words could widen that chasm further. So, he opted for silence, respecting the invisible boundary that Rylie seemed to have erected.

They dressed fully in that silence, each acutely aware of the other’s presence but not quite daring to broach the conversation that was hanging heavily in the room like an unseen fog. The familiarity they had always found in each other’s company was now tinged with a new, awkward energy neither had expected to navigate.

As Rylie smoothed down her hair and made to leave the bathroom, she finally lifted her eyes to meet James'. In that brief connection, so much was communicated—regret, tenderness, uncertainty, even love—but words remained conspicuously absent, the moment stretching tight before she turned and stepped out of the room.

Following her, James could feel the heaviness in the air, every step they took seeming to echo with the resonance of what had just transpired between them. They moved through the upstairs hallway in a continued silence, their proximity to each other charged with an intimate tension that neither seemed ready to address.

"Let’s make sure we grab our things from downstairs,” Rylie whispered as they approached the staircase. Her voice was a mix of urgency and vulnerability, mirroring the tight line of her lips and the careful avoidance of his gaze. She didn't want the evidence of last night to shatter the fragile peace they had re-established with her father. “Before my dad sees them," she added, the final word carrying an unsaid plea for understanding.

James nodded, squeezing her hand briefly in understanding, a simple but deep gesture that promised he was still there with her, despite the complex storm of emotions that swirled between them. They descended the stairs swiftly and efficiently, each moving with a purpose to gather their discarded clothes from the night before.

The atmosphere between them, as they folded and collected their clothes, was a complex web of intimacy, regret, and a strange, new tension. The physical reminders of their passionate, impulsive decision the night before seemed to taunt them now as they prepared to face the world outside, and the familial and emotional consequences of their actions.

Rylie and James worked quickly but carefully, ensuring no trace of their entanglement and drinking remained in the open spaces of the house. As Rylie clutched the bundled fabric to her chest, she felt a peculiar mix of relief and unease. What had once felt like a necessary, fleeting comfort was now a reality they couldn't avoid. She took a deep breath, steadying herself.

Just as they were straightening up the living room, the distinct sound of a key turning in the front door lock sent a jolt through both of them. 

"Dad," Rylie whispered, almost to herself, as a nervous tension suddenly supplanted the lingering intimacy between her and James.

Nathan entered the house, his face weary but composed. The weight of the day was evident in his sagging shoulders and the deep lines etched across his forehead. It was clear that he was returning from more than just a Ministry visit – he was coming back from saying goodbye to the woman he had loved deeply, despite the circumstances of their separation.

"Rylie," Nathan began, his voice steady but carrying the subtle undertone of a father’s concern. "James," he added with a nod, acknowledging the young man who had become like a second child to him over the years. "I need to talk to you both." 

He gestured towards the kitchen table. The serious tone in his voice, coupled with the grave expression on his face, left no room for misinterpretation: what he had to say was of utmost importance.

Rylie and James exchanged a quick, apprehensive glance before moving to join Nathan at the table. As they sat down, a heavy silence settled, thick with anticipation and the unspoken understanding that their world was about to shift once again.

"I need to explain something," Nathan began, his voice steady but his eyes reflecting a deep sadness. "About why your mother and I divorced. We loved each other deeply, Rylie. We still did until her last day. Our separation, it wasn’t because our love ended. It was a decision made out of desperation. We thought it might keep her safe…”

Rylie's eyes widened as she processed her father's words, shock registering clearly on her face. Unconsciously, her hand slipped under the table to find James', seeking the familiar comfort and strength that his touch provided. She could feel her heart racing, each beat echoing her father’s words and the cruel irony they held.

Nathan’s eyes, mirroring the deep blue of Rylie’s, were somber as he continued. "We knew she was a target because of her position and her unwavering stance against dark forces," he explained, each word measured and heavy. "We thought that by separating, by me moving into a different role at the Ministry, and by appearing to be a broken family, it might divert attention. It might make her seem less of a threat."

His voice cracked ever so slightly, revealing the toll this secret had taken on him. "It was a horrible, painful decision," Nathan confessed, his gaze dropping to the table as if he could hide the pain that was so clearly etched in his features. "We still loved each other, deeply. We still fought for each other, just... from a distance. And ultimately, it failed."

As Nathan spoke, a single tear escaped, trailing down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away. He was a man who had gambled with the most precious parts of his life in a desperate bid to protect his family, and the cost of that gamble was excruciatingly clear.

Rylie's grip on James' hand tightened, her own eyes welling with tears as she absorbed the truth behind her parents' estrangement— a painful strategy born from love and a desperate need to protect, which had ended in the worst way imaginable. Would Rylie and Evan have to resort to the same fate?

A heavy silence settled over the room as Rylie and James absorbed this revelation. The air grew thick with tension, almost suffocating, as they digested the bombshell Nathan had just dropped on them. In that silence, the truth of Nathan's words bore down on them like a crushing weight.

“There’s more,” Nathan added hesitantly, his voice strained as if he himself could barely believe what he was about to say. His eyes, usually so steady, flickered with a storm of emotions—fear, sorrow, and regret. "We have inside information... that Evan might have known about the attack before it happened."

Rylie’s heart felt as though it stopped for a moment. A sharp, cold shock raced through her veins. "What?" she whispered, her voice breaking like fragile glass. Her face paled, and for a terrifying second, the room seemed to spin around her. Evan, her boyfriend and confidant—his loyalty and their future together were thrown suddenly into dark uncertainty.

James' hand tightened on Rylie's under the table, grounding her in this pivotal moment. His touch was steady but his eyes, now narrowed and sharpened like flint, were a storm of conflicting emotions: anger, confusion, and deep concern for Rylie. He was her rock in this storm, silent but steadfast as they all grappled with the shocking information.

Nathan sighed deeply, the sound heavy with a father’s agony. "I don’t want to believe it, either," he whispered, almost to himself, "but the source is reliable. We’re still investigating, but...” He couldn’t finish the sentence, the words catching in his throat as the full implications settled over the room like a dark cloud.

“No!” Rylie's voice shattered the heavy silence like glass. She stood abruptly, her chair scraping sharply against the floor. “That’s a lie,” she screamed, her face flushed with anger and disbelief, but her eyes—those told a different story, glistening with an edge of despair. “Evan would never do something like that. He doesn’t even know Mum!”

“Rylie…” Nathan began, his voice breaking, reaching out as if he could somehow shield his daughter from this devastating truth with his words alone.

“Don’t ‘Rylie’ me!” she snapped, backing away from the table, her whole body trembling. Deep inside, a terrible realization was beginning to dawn, and she was fighting with everything she had to keep it at bay. “You’re just trying to turn me against him because of your own mistakes!”

James, caught in the tempest of their emotions but steadfast, slowly stood and reached for Rylie’s hand gently, trying to offer a semblance of comfort without words. He didn’t know what the truth was, but he knew that he needed to be there for Rylie in this excruciating moment.

Nathan's eyes were wet, and he took a moment to compose himself before speaking softly, “I know this is hard to hear. And I wish more than anything that it weren’t true. But I need you to be aware of the situation. I'm so sorry, Rylie.”

Rylie's face was a portrait of agony—a battle between wanting to believe her father and the deep-rooted love she held for Evan. With a choked sob, she turned sharply and stormed out of the room, leaving behind a chilling silence.

James followed Rylie out of the room, finding her in the hallway, her back pressed against the wall as if she was trying to hold herself up. Her face was tear-streaked, a stark picture of her internal storm. He approached slowly, his voice tender, "Just because he knew doesn't mean he did it, Rylie."

She shot her eyes up to meet his, fire meeting his calm. "He could have warned us!" she cried out, her voice breaking with every word, her hands clenched into fists as if holding onto her anger was her only way to keep from falling apart. "If he knew, he could've said something—anything—and maybe she’d still be here!"

James reached out, gently trying to cup her face in his hands, his own eyes filling with empathy but also laden with his own pain. “Or maybe he was scared,” he countered softly, trying to be the voice of reason while his heart ached for her. "We don't know the whole story. He might have been in a position where saying something would have put him—or you—in more danger."

Rylie’s body seemed to shake with raw emotion as she pushed his hands away. "I don't want to hear excuses for him, James,” she hissed through gritted teeth, her words laced with a deep and scalding hurt. “If he loved me, he wouldn’t have kept this from me. He wouldn’t have let my mum die.”

James’ face tightened, the conflict within him visible. He was torn between wanting to defend a friend’s potential innocence and the instinct to protect Rylie from further pain. “We're in a war, Rylie," he whispered painfully, "and war makes people do unimaginable things, for reasons we might not understand until we're in their shoes. I'm not saying it’s right. I’m saying it’s complicated.”

Rylie's eyes shimmered with fresh tears, her voice now a fragile whisper. "I don't care," she murmured, her defiance deflating into a deep, profound sadness. "It shouldn't be this complicated."

James, feeling her resignation as acutely as his own, stepped closer again and gently wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a comforting embrace as they both grappled with a world that was unraveling faster than they could comprehend.

Rylie suddenly felt suffocated, as though James' embrace, intended as comfort, was a constraint she couldn't bear in that moment. She forcefully pulled away, creating a physical and emotional distance between them.

"Why are you defending him?!" Rylie shouted, her voice raw and her face flushed with anger and betrayal. Her eyes, once a source of warmth towards James, now shot daggers at him. "Are you choosing his side over me?”

James looked stunned, his arms still half-raised from where Rylie had torn herself away. "No, Rylie, I'm not choosing sides," he replied softly, desperation creeping into his voice. "I'm trying to help you, to help us make sense of this chaos. I'm here for you."

At this moment, Nathan rushed back into the room, having heard Rylie’s scream from the hallway.

"Rylie, what's going on?" Nathan asked, his face drawn with concern, as he took in the scene - his daughter's tear-streaked face, James' outstretched, imploring hands, and the palpable tension in the room.

"Well, it doesn't feel like it!" Rylie spat back, her breathing heavy with fury and pain. "It feels like you're telling me to just accept that my boyfriend might have known my mum was in danger and did nothing!"

Nathan reached out, trying to place a calming hand on Rylie’s shoulder, but she jerked away sharply, refusing comfort.

"I can’t be here right now. I can't look at either of you," she declared, her voice breaking but steadfast.

"Rylie, please..." James' plea was heartfelt, and Nathan’s eyes, too, were pleading, but Rylie was already storming towards the fireplace in the living room.

She grabbed a pinch of Floo powder from the mantle. "Hogsmeade!" she choked out through her tears, and with that, she vanished in a whirl of green fire, leaving James and Nathan standing in the stark, aching silence of the room.

Chapter Text

Rylie stumbled out of the fireplace at the Three Broomsticks, the green flames of the Floo network nipping at her heels. Her entrance was anything but subtle; her face was tear-streaked and flushed from her argument with James and her father. The patrons of the cozy, crowded pub turned to look as she caught her balance, clearly sensing the stormy mood she carried with her.

At a table near the window, Evan, Lily, Sirius, and Remus looked up in surprise. Evan's eyes widened as he took in Rylie’s disheveled and distressed appearance, his heart immediately tightening with concern.

"What happened?" Evan asked urgently, starting to rise from his seat to go to her.

Rylie’s blazing eyes met Evan’s, and she barely managed to choke out her words through her anger and tears. "Did you know? Did you know what was going to happen to my mum and not say anything?!” she demanded, her voice a raw, quivering accusation that reverberated through the room.

The atmosphere in the pub grew tense, the laughter and chatter that usually filled the air stifling into a heavy silence as patrons turned to witness the unfolding drama.

Evan’s face contorted in agony, his eyes welling with tears but not quite meeting Rylie's. He looked like he was caught in a vice, torn between truth and devastating consequence. He opened his mouth, then closed it, unable to form the words.

Rylie saw it all in his face—that hesitation, that guilt—and it was all the confirmation she needed. With a cry of rage and heartbreak, she stormed over to Evan and slapped him across the face, hard. The sound resounded like a gunshot through the tense pub.

"My father said you might have known!" she snapped, her voice breaking. "And you did! You knew and you let her die!"

Lily exchanged a horrified glance with Remus and Sirius. Remus quickly rose from his seat and approached Rylie with open, calming hands. "Rylie," he said softly but firmly, "we need to calm down and talk about this."

Sirius, meanwhile, looked from Rylie to Evan, his dark eyes filled with a mix of concern and a readiness to defend his friends if necessary. He knew how deep the ties ran within their group, and this accusation was a dangerous spark in a room doused with gasoline.

With his face etched with worry, Remus stepped slightly closer to Rylie, gently placing a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to provide some solace but Rylie sharply pulled away, her body rigid with anger. "Ry," he whispered, his tone soft yet firm, "let's just take a moment to breathe and talk this through."

Evan's face was pale, his eyes wide and visibly distressed. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. The look in his eyes was a blend of regret, sadness, and a deep, haunting pain.

"I... I didn't want to believe it was true," Evan finally managed to whisper, his voice quivering. "I was scared, Rylie. Scared of what might happen to you... to all of us."

Rylie's heart felt like it was tearing in two. The raw hurt in Evan's eyes struck a chord within her, but it was also mixed with a fierce surge of anger. "Scared? You were scared!?" she shouted, her voice trembling with emotion. "We are supposed to be in this together, Evan! You had a duty to warn us, to warn her. She might have still been here if you had just said something!"

Sirius, whose own patience had worn thin, moved decisively to stand at Rylie’s side. His dark eyes were narrowed, and his face was set into a stern expression. “Enough of this,” he growled, glaring at Evan. “You should have said something.”

With movements as swift and precise as a striking snake, Rylie’s hand moved to her wand, which she drew and aimed directly at Evan. Her face was a storm of emotion, her eyes fiery with hurt and betrayal. In that charged moment, the warmth and camaraderie of the Three Broomsticks seemed to dissolve into the background, leaving only the raw, pulsing tension between Rylie and Evan.

"This year," Rylie seethed, her voice quivering but deadly serious, "has been one nightmare after another. My parents, the attack, my mum’s death by your parents..” she took a breath, her hand gripping her wand so tight her knuckles turned white. “Our baby ….” a tear slipped down her cheek. “and now this? Now you ? Were you ever going to tell us, or were you just comfortable lying to our faces?” She said, her voice raised as her wand shook with anger. Her chest heaved with the effort of controlling her breathing, but the tremor in her voice betrayed how close she was to breaking. She could feel the collective weight of every terrifying, painful event that had unfolded over the past months. It was as if her life had become a frayed rope, and with each new hardship, another strand snapped.

Evan's face was ashen, his eyes wide and shimmering with unshed tears. He looked like he wanted to reach out to Rylie, to explain or comfort, but her fierce, unwavering stance seemed to hold him paralyzed.

James, just entering from the Floo, could feel the crackle of tension the second he stepped into the pub. His eyes darted from Rylie’s set face to Evan's desperate one, and he could feel the weight of the situation settle heavy in his chest. He knew Rylie well enough to recognize the particular tilt of her head and the fire in her eyes as signs that she was both wounded and dangerous. He needed to act, to diffuse this ticking time bomb before it erupted into something none of them could recover from.

"Rylie," he implored softly, trying to bridge the space between them with the warmth and concern in his voice, "please, put the wand down. We can sort this out, but not like this."

Rylie's hand with the wand trembled ever so slightly, reflecting her internal struggle. Her eyes, still locked onto Evan’s, were stormy and wild, but underneath that tempest, James could see the exhaustion and desperation of someone pushed to the brink.

James slowly stepped in front of Rylie’s wand, his eyes deep and steady, locking with hers, conveying a silent plea: not here . Slowly, with a calmness that belied the tension of the moment, he reached out and gently pushed her wand hand down.

For a breath, it seemed Rylie would relent. She exhaled sharply and turned, giving the appearance of surrender and defeat. But in a rapid, unexpected twist, she spun back around, her wand slashing through the air as she hexed Evan.

"Stupefy!" she shouted, the Stunning Spell flying from her wand. It wasn’t designed to inflict pain, but to incapacitate.

Evan, caught off guard, was hit squarely in the chest and thrown backward into a table, which toppled over with a loud crash. The pub went deadly quiet, save for Evan's labored breathing as he struggled to regain his senses on the floor.

Lily let out a gasp, her hands flying to her mouth, her eyes wide and filled with a mix of fear and sadness as she took in the scene unfolding before her. The room seemed to freeze for a split second after the spell was cast, everyone's eyes wide in shock.

"RYLIE!" James shouted, his voice a mixture of disbelief and alarm. He rushed forward, placing himself between Rylie and Evan’s prone form. "Enough!" he urged, his voice trembling but firm.

Rylie stood still, her arm extended, her wand still pointed where Evan had been standing moments before. Her face was a blank slate, her eyes hollow – a stark contrast to the fiery storm that had been there moments earlier. She was numb, disconnected from the chaos she had just unleashed.

Remus, his calm demeanor cracking under the strain of the moment, rushed to Rylie’s side along with James. Gently but firmly, Remus reached for Rylie’s wand hand, trying to lower it. "This isn’t the way," he whispered to her, almost pleadingly. His eyes, deep and empathetic, searched Rylie’s face for any sign that she was still with them.

Sirius, who had initially been ready to stand by Rylie, was now visibly torn. He glanced from Rylie to James and then to Evan on the floor, his face twisted in a complex expression of anger, concern, and disbelief.

Lily, her face pale and her eyes wide, had rushed to Evan's side. "Please, Rylie," she whispered, her voice quivering with desperation and sorrow. "Stop this."

Rylie stood rigid, her face devoid of any emotion, a stark contrast to the chaotic scene she had created. As James and Remus moved closer, she didn’t resist. They disarmed her gently but firmly, their touch a stark contrast to her chilling numbness that seemed to fill the room, turning her heartbreak into a palpable entity. Silently, she allowed herself to be led by James and Remus, leaving behind a room still thick with tension, concern, and heartbreak.

As they guided Rylie towards the exit of the Three Broomsticks, the patrons of the pub whispered and stared. Their leisurely Sunday afternoon had taken a dramatic, unexpected turn. Despite the soft familiarity of James’ touch and the soothing presence of Remus, Rylie's cold demeanor remained unyielding, a fortress that, in that moment, seemed impervious to their comfort and concern. "Let's get you back to the castle," James murmured softly to Rylie, his voice laced with concern and uncertainty, as if he were treading on newly fragile ground.

Remus, clearly shaken himself, gave Rylie a reassuring squeeze on her shoulder, although she barely seemed to register the contact. His face was tight with worry as they moved into the brisk air outside, the door to the pub swinging shut behind them, effectively cutting them off from the raw scene they had left inside.

Back inside The Three Broomsticks, the atmosphere remained charged and turbulent, reflecting the storm that had just passed through. The usual warmth of the pub seemed to have evaporated, leaving behind a biting chill that was felt deeply by those who remained.

Sirius, his face taut with frustration, stared at Evan with an intensity that could rival a blasting curse. He was torn, his loyalty to Rylie warring with his sense of justice, and his need for answers. "Start talking, Evan," Sirius demanded sharply, his voice low and fierce. "I need to hear it from you, and it better be the bloody truth."

Evan, bruised and shaken, looked up at Sirius. There was a profound sadness in his eyes that wasn't there before — a weight that seemed to bear down on him heavily. He took a deep breath, as if preparing to dive into an abyss, and opened his mouth to speak. But the words seemed to stick, tangled in his throat, and what came out was a broken, raw whisper.

As Evan tried to gather himself, he glanced at Lily, who was now helping him to his feet. His face was drawn and pale, but he forced himself to continue speaking, knowing he owed Sirius — and himself — an explanation.

"I was warned," Evan began slowly, his voice shaky but steady, "by someone that I had to tread carefully. They said that Rylie’s mum was a potential target because of Nathan's position in the Ministry." He paused, the weight of his words visibly pressing down on him. "I didn’t know how to balance keeping that secret and protecting Rylie and her family. I was... trapped."

While Evan spoke, Lily's wand moved gracefully through the air, casting a 'Reparo' charm that magically mended the broken table and glasses. The shards of glass knitted themselves back together seamlessly, as if time itself was rewinding to erase the physical traces of the confrontation, though the emotional scars were clearly indelible.

Sirius, trying to process Evan’s words, finally broke his silence, his tone hard but laced with anguish. "You chose silence over warning them? Over warning us? How could you keep that from Rylie, of all people?"

Evan took a deep breath, steadying himself, his face pale but resolute. "It was fear," he admitted, his voice trembling but steady. "I was afraid of what my parents would do if they found out someone tipped off Nathan and Anna. They have... connections, influence. They could have made things even worse." He looked at Sirius, his eyes pleading for understanding. "They would have retaliated, not just against me, but against Rylie and her family, too. I was trying to protect her in the only way I thought I could."

Sirius, despite the anger boiling in his veins, felt a pang of sympathy at Evan’s words. His posture softened ever so slightly, but his voice retained its sharp edge. "And you didn’t think to trust us with this? To let us in and decide how to handle it as a family?" he asked, the hurt in his voice as potent as his anger.

Evan's voice cracked as he spoke, each word carrying a heavy burden of regret. "I’m sorry," he whispered, his eyes welling with tears. "It's impossible for me to make up for any of this."

Slowly, as if each movement was a monumental effort, he sank into a chair. The adrenaline that had been fueling him dissipated, leaving him hollow and shaking as the immense weight of what just transpired settled onto him like a suffocating blanket. "I’ve lost her forever," he murmured, a desolate acceptance in his tone. "And it’s probably for the best. She would be safer without me." 

Lily, her heart breaking for her friend, quietly moved to his side, offering a comforting hand on his shoulder, but unsure of what words could possibly help in this moment.

Sirius looked at Evan, his anger cooling into a deep sadness as he saw the broken man before him. He clenched his jaw, trying to hold back his own emotions. “I can’t even begin to understand the position you were in,” he finally said, his voice steady but softer now. “But shutting us out, shutting Rylie out... that wasn’t the solution.”

Evan's head dropped lower, and his shoulders trembled ever so slightly under Lily’s touch. "I know," he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know that now. But knowing that doesn’t change what's done."

Lily tightened her grip on Evan's shoulder, her eyes welling with tears as well. She looked helplessly at Sirius, who was clearly struggling with his own conflicting emotions. The warm, jovial atmosphere of the Three Broomsticks around them contrasted sharply with the cold, painful reality they were now grappling with.

In that moment, the trio felt the vast distance that had suddenly opened up between them and their friends, a chasm widened by secrets and hurt, and they were uncertain if it could ever be bridged again.

~*~

Remus and James walked on either side of Rylie, their feet crunching the gravel path that led back to Hogwarts. Her face was as stony and cold as the castle they were approaching, her bright eyes turned dull and stormy, mirroring the turbulent emotions inside her. Her hands were balled into tight fists at her sides, her knuckles white from the strain, every part of her taut like a drawn bowstring.

Remus' brow was furrowed deeply in concern, his usually warm eyes dark with worry. James, his own face a mask of deep empathy, looked at Rylie with an expression that seemed to want to absorb some of her pain. Both men were wary, like they were walking beside a ticking bomb. They sensed the tempest of emotions swirling within Rylie, the dangerous energy that radiated from her.

The path to the castle, usually a route of nostalgia and comfort, now felt like a march through a battlefield. The tension was palpable; the atmosphere was charged, heavy with the weight of unspoken words and strained with the pressure of contained emotions. The only sound accompanying them was the steady crunch of gravel underfoot, each step echoing like a somber drumbeat.

In a brave, perhaps misguided, attempt to breach the silence and offer some semblance of comfort, Remus gently said, "Rylie, we’re here for you, no matter what."

That simple statement, meant to soothe, proved to be the tipping point. 

"Shut up!" Rylie exploded, her voice sharp and raw, slicing through the tension like a blade. "Just shut up!" She abruptly stopped walking, turning to face them with fire in her eyes, her voice quaking with pent-up emotion. "I don't need empty words. Not now."

Her face, usually composed and guarded, was now an open book of anguish. Her eyes, brimming with unshed tears, bore into them, challenging them to say something—anything—that could mend the shattered world around her.

Remus and James both recoiled slightly at the force of her words, exchanging a look of deep concern but respecting her raw state. Remus’s face tightened, pain flashing in his eyes, while James’s jaw clenched, struggling with his own surge of emotions but staying steadfast beside Rylie. They understood, on some level, that Rylie was a storm of grief, anger, and betrayal at this moment—a storm that needed to rage before it could pass.

They continued the rest of the walk in tense silence. Once within the castle and without announcing it, they began to steer her towards Professor McGonagall’s office. It wasn't until she caught sight of the familiar hall that Rylie stopped dead in her tracks, her stormy eyes flashing with fresh defiance.

"Where the hell are you taking me?" she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut glass.

"To Professor McGonagall," Remus answered calmly, although his voice was strained. "She needs to know what happened, Rylie. This isn’t something we can just—”

"No!" Rylie cut him off, her voice rising, raw and fierce. She spun on her heel, clearly intending to march in the opposite direction, towards the sanctuary of Gryffindor Tower.

But James was quicker. He reached out and firmly grabbed her wrist, his grip unyielding but not hurtful. His usually warm and playful eyes were dark and serious now. "No, Rylie," he said firmly, his voice steady but carrying a note of finality that was rarely heard from him. "We are going to McGonagall, and that’s final. I’ll use Petrificus Totalus on you if I have to.”

For a long, tension-filled moment, they locked eyes – James’s gaze steadfast and resolute, Rylie's wild and blazing like a tempest. It was a standoff between two indomitable wills, and James was incredibly grateful at that moment that he was in possession of Rylie’s wand and not her.  "I mean it, Kipping," James continued, the use of her surname making Rylie’s eyes widen, almost as if he just added fuel to the fire. His voice was quiet, but carried an iron-hard determination. He wasn't playing games; she could see that he would follow through with his threat.

Rylie's eyes, still seething with anger and hurt, stayed locked with his, but in them flickered a subtle, reluctant acknowledgment. She wasn't yielding, wasn't softening, but she was making a tactical retreat. She could recognize a line that she shouldn't cross, even in her volatile state. Without a word, without breaking that intense eye contact, she yanked her wrist from his grip but didn't move away. It was a silent, begrudging agreement to comply — but on her terms.

Her expression remained guarded as she turned on her heel, leading the way towards Professor McGonagall’s office with James and Remus flanking closely, her internal storm still howling but contained — for now.

As they walked through the corridors of the castle, the atmosphere around them was electric, charged with Rylie's barely contained fury and the palpable tension between her and James. The stone walls, usually so comforting and familiar, seemed to close in on them, making the air feel heavy and stifling.

Her steps were sharp and deliberate, her posture rigid. Every line of her body screamed defiance, but she was cooperating — barely. Her mind was a whirlpool of emotions: betrayal, grief, anger, confusion. Each step towards McGonagall’s office felt like a step further from the world she thought she knew, a world that was unraveling faster than she could cope with.

James, walking with a protective, almost possessive air, remained just as silent as Remus, but his eyes never left Rylie. He could feel the heat of her anger, but behind it, he sensed her pain — raw and gaping. He yearned to reach out, to comfort her, but he knew now wasn't the time. He had to be her steadfast friend, her unwavering support, even when she was a storm about to break.

As they approached Professor McGonagall’s office, Rylie abruptly halted, turning to face James with a look that was equal parts defiant and desperate.

“Is this really necessary?” she hissed through clenched teeth, her voice quivering with restrained emotion. "Dragging me to McGonagall like I'm some misbehaving child?”

Her words were sharp, but her eyes — those stormy eyes — were pleading, begging for some semblance of control in a situation where she felt she had none.

James's gaze softened, but he maintained his resolve. For a fleeting moment, he allowed his own pain and concern to be visible in his eyes, responding to Rylie’s desperate plea with a raw honesty. “Yes, it is,” he whispered firmly, his voice imbued with a warmth that belied the steel of his words. “You’re not alone in this, Rylie. We’re worried about you, and McGonagall can help.”

Rylie’s eyes flickered at James’s words, and something in her seemed to waver — not her anger, that was still there, a living entity in itself — but her resistance. It was as if she were teetering on the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to fight or to fall.

As they reached the small study that served as Professor McGonagall’s office, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Located off of the first-floor corridor, the space was inviting in its own way, with a large fireplace that crackled and windows that provided a view over the Training Grounds and the Quidditch pitch. But under current circumstances, it felt more like a battleground than a sanctuary.

Rylie's fiery anger had dulled to a simmering fury by the time they arrived, her tightly coiled posture reflecting a defensive wall she'd constructed around herself. James and Remus, each of whom still wore expressions of deep concern, guided her into the room.

Sitting in one of the chairs in front of McGonagall’s desk was Nathan — her father. The instant Rylie’s eyes fell on him, her shoulders tensed noticeably, though her face remained stoic. Nathan's eyes were filled with concern and love, but there was a noticeable restraint in his posture, as though he was bracing for a storm.

Professor McGonagall, seated behind her desk, stood as they entered. The stern set of her mouth spoke to her own concern and the seriousness of the situation. "Miss Kipping," she began in her crisp, authoritative tone, "we’ve heard about what transpired at the Three Broomsticks."

Rylie’s cold gaze didn't waver as she replied sharply, "He fucking deserved it."

Nathan winced at her words, but kept his composure. "Rylie," he said softly, "I understand that you’re hurt and angry, but this isn't the way."

Rylie's eyes, which had been steely and distant, finally seemed to crack just a bit. Her voice, when she spoke, was quieter and laden with raw pain. "He knew, Dad," she whispered, her words quivering like a held-back sob. "He knew what was going to happen to Mum, and he said nothing."

She turned then, her gaze finally breaking from her father's as she looked towards the fireplace, as if the flickering flames could hold some answer or solace. "How am I supposed to just accept that?" she asked, her voice so soft it was nearly drowned by the crackling of the fire.

Nathan sighed deeply, and there was a weary sadness in his eyes as he looked at Rylie. "It's entirely possible Evan couldn't voice what he heard," he began gently. "If his parents found out they were tipped off, there could have been additional repercussions. For him and for others,” he took a deep breath and let it out as he continued “..for you.”

Rylie’s face contorted in anguish at these words, and she nearly spat her reply. "Well, Mum would still be alive!" she exclaimed, her voice raw and quivering with a cocktail of pain and fury.

Nathan winced at this, as though her words were a physical blow, but he maintained his composure. Slowly, he shook his head and met his daughter’s fiery gaze with a profound sadness of his own.

"But at the possible cost of other lives," he responded softly. He took a deep breath, steadying himself before he continued. "This is war, Rylie," he said sadly. "In war, the choices are rarely clear, and the consequences can be... devastating. I'm not saying it's right, but it is the reality we are living in."

In the charged silence that followed, Rylie's face seemed to crumble, the harsh reality of her father’s words colliding violently with the storm of her emotions. It was as if, in that moment, the immense weight of the situation was fully descending upon her. Her eyes, once fiery, now seemed to glaze over as the storm within her started to subside into a devastating emptiness. She could feel a hollow ache spreading through her chest, suffocating her with its intensity. The room, despite the warmth of the fireplace, felt cold and alien. She suddenly felt very small within the enormity of this war that seemed to be swallowing everyone she loved.

For a fleeting moment, Rylie looked toward her father, really looked at him, and for the first time since she was a child, she saw not just a parental figure, but a man carrying his own burdens, worn down by the weight of his responsibilities and his losses. A part of her wanted to rage against him, to find a target for the tempest that had consumed her since her mother's death. But another part, a deeper part, could see the pain in his eyes mirrored in her own.

Nathan, sensing the shift in his daughter's demeanor, reached out slowly, his hand hovering uncertainly in the air between them, as if he were afraid to touch her and break the fragile connection they were forming.

"I know it doesn't make it better," he whispered, his voice catching. "But we are in this, Rylie. We have to face this painful reality together, and we need to do it in a way that honors her memory and allows us to heal, rather than causing more damage to ourselves."

Rylie’s throat tightened, choking back the sob that threatened to escape. She was at war with herself, torn between wanting to collapse into her father's arms, seeking the comfort she so desperately needed, and the raw, primal urge to shove away everyone and everything, to shield her raw and bleeding heart from any more pain.

With the weight of her father's words sinking in, Rylie felt a surge of overwhelming emotion that seemed to suffocate her in that small office. Her chest tightened, her vision blurred, and in that moment, the room with its crackling fireplace and her father’s caring but sorrowful eyes became too much for her to bear.

"I need... I need space," Rylie choked out, her voice trembling on the verge of breaking. Without waiting for a response, she turned abruptly, her movements erratic and desperate as if she was gasping for air as she dashed out of McGonagall’s office, leaving behind a palpable tension. Her footsteps echoed sharply in the corridors as she ran, a reflection of the chaos that whirled within her. 

Nathan and McGonagall exchanged a knowing, worried glance but neither moved to follow her. They understood her need for space, for a moment to breathe and to process the torrent of emotions.

Rylie's feet, seemingly with a mind of their own, carried her quickly and assuredly through the labyrinthine hallways of Hogwarts. Her breath was ragged, her face stained with tears that she hadn't realized were streaming down her cheeks.

And then she was there, standing before the blank stretch of wall where the Room of Requirement materialized. Her heart racing and her mind swirling, Rylie paced back and forth in front of the wall, her desperate need for a sanctuary radiating from her.

As if responding to her silent plea, the door to the Room of Requirement appeared. She didn’t hesitate but rushed inside, the room morphing into a space that was comforting and secluded, mirroring her need for solitude and respite.

Inside, the room had transformed into a serene haven - a cozy, dimly lit space with soft armchairs, flowing curtains, and a gentle, comforting ambiance. It was a stark contrast to the storm that raged within her, and in that moment, it was exactly what Rylie Kipping needed. 

She sank into one of the armchairs, finally allowing herself to fully feel the tidal wave of emotions she had been holding back. Here, in this room, she could grieve, rage, and heal, even if just for a little while.

~*~

After Rylie stormed out of the office, the atmosphere in the room grew heavy, the tension palpable. Nathan exhaled slowly, his face etched with the strain of the situation, yet his posture remained composed. 

"Thank you," he finally said softly, his gaze steady on James and Remus. "Thank you both for bringing her here, despite the fire she's wielding right now."

James rubbed the back of his neck, his face weary. "I had to threaten her with Petrificus Totalus just to get her to come with us," he admitted with a strained chuckle, the sound lacking any real humor. "I didn't want to, but she was... she’s a tempest right now."

Nathan nodded, the lines on his face deepening with understanding. “I know this isn’t easy for any of you,” he replied.

Turning his attention to the matter at hand, Nathan then posed a question to the room. "What about Evan? Will he be arrested?"

"No," Nathan answered his own question decisively, setting his jaw. "But I will need to question him later." He glanced at McGonagall for confirmation, seeking her steady authority.

The stern professor nodded, her lips pressed tightly together. "Dumbledore is aware," she confirmed crisply. "He will make the necessary arrangements for the questioning to take place in the headmaster’s office."

With Rylie’s emotional exit still lingering in his mind, James furrowed his brow, a note of worry clear in his eyes. "Should we really be leaving Rylie alone right now?" he asked, his voice carrying a genuine concern that broke through his usually casual demeanor. "With everything she's grappling with... you know how impulsive and reckless she can be."

McGonagall’s stern expression softened ever so slightly, and she leaned forward, steepling her fingers on the desk. "I share your worries, Mr. Potter," she admitted in a rare moment of vulnerability. "But Rylie is strong, and in times like this, space can be the most important gift we can offer her. We will, however, keep a close watch. We won't let her spiral."

Remus, who had been silent until now, finally spoke, his voice low and thoughtful. "She’s hurting," he murmured, "more than I’ve ever seen her. We need to be there, but we also need to respect her space." 

As the room settled into a charged silence, James reached into his pocket, revealing a wand that distinctly did not belong to him. The wood was a beautiful shade of mahogany, its surface smooth and gleaming, catching the light in a mesmerizing way. The wand's core was visible through the ornate handle, a sparkling thread that hinted at its powerful magic. 

Holding the wand gingerly, James' brow creased deeply with worry. "This is Rylie’s," he said softly, the weight of it seeming far heavier in his hand than its physical mass. "I took it from her earlier, when she Stupefied Evan. Given everything that’s happened..." His voice trailed off for a moment, allowing the gravity of the situation to sink in further. "I wasn't sure giving it back to her would be the smart move right now." 

He looked up at Nathan, his eyes conveying a deep, sincere concern. "I’m worried," he admitted, his voice almost a whisper. "Worried she might try to confront Evan again, or worse, turn it on herself…” His words seemed to hang heavily in the air while his face was etched with a kind of alarm he rarely showed. He'd witnessed Rylie’s anger before, had seen the fire in her eyes when she was pushed too far. But this? This was different. This was a tempest of raw, unadulterated pain, threatening to spill over into chaos, and it seemed there was nothing to quell it. He knew, without a doubt, that Rylie was strong; fiercely so. But in this dire moment, he found himself silently pleading that the world would not push her to prove just how strong she could be.

Nathan's gaze shifted from the wand to James, a deep understanding mirrored in his eyes. "It's hard to predict what she might do in her current state," he acknowledged softly, his voice carrying the heavy burden of a father’s worry.

McGonagall, her face a blend of stern authority and genuine concern, nodded in agreement. "I believe you made a wise decision, Mr. Potter," she said. "For now, it would be best to keep the wand secure here, until we can better understand where Miss Kipping’s emotional state lies."

With a respectful nod, James extended the wand towards McGonagall, who took it with a reassuring touch on his hand.

Remus, his usually stoic demeanor giving way to reveal a raw empathy for his friend, quietly added, "You made the right choice, mate.” Remus said softly as he gave his friend a clap on the back. 

Just as the room seemed to absorb the weight of their conversation, the door to McGonagall's office swung open. Sirius, Lily, and Evan appeared in the doorway, the tension they brought with them nearly palpable. Evan looked particularly disheveled—his clothes askew and his face a haunting image of desolation with a bruise on his cheek and a small cut on his lip.

Sirius, his brows drawn tight in worry, was the first to speak. His voice, usually so steady, carried a rare edge of panic. "Where is Rylie?" he demanded, his sharp gaze scanning the room urgently as if he could will her into appearing.

"She ran off," James replied tersely, his jaw clenched and his hands balling into fists at his sides. The frustration in his voice was barely concealed, and it was clear that he was struggling to keep his own emotions in check.

Sirius blinked, a mix of anger and concern flashing in his stormy eyes. "And you thought it was a good idea to let her be alone at a time like this?" he snapped, the words a jagged blend of accusation and desperation.

"She doesn’t have her wand," James countered quickly, his tone defensive yet laden with his own deep concern. His eyes, which had been so full of worry, now flashed with a protective fire. "She can't hurt anyone, including herself," he added softly, almost as though he was trying to reassure himself more than anyone else.

Sirius’s expression hardened at this, and he took a step closer to James, his voice icy yet trembling with contained emotion. "You know as well as I do that Rylie doesn't need a wand to hurt others or herself," he retorted sharply. "She's resourceful, and she's in pain. That’s a dangerous combination, and we're bloody aware of that."

His words hung heavily in the room, a stark reminder of the volatile mix of Rylie’s ingenuity and her current emotional state. The room was charged with tension, each person acutely feeling the gravity of Sirius's statement. James’s eyes, still bright with protective fire, also betrayed a flicker of vulnerability—he knew that Sirius was painfully right.

In that tense moment, Evan's eyes shot up, breaking his own deep internal reflection. Worried by Sirius' words and knowing the truth in them, he looked urgently towards James. His face was ashen, the deep circles under his eyes speaking volumes of his own torment, but in that instant, there was something sharp and focused in his gaze, a silent message he was desperate to convey. His eyes practically shouted the words 'Room of Requirement,' a place they all knew Rylie had sought comfort in before.

James caught the look, understanding immediately. His posture stiffened slightly as he read the urgency in Evan’s eyes. The Room of Requirement was their secret refuge, a place that adapted to the needs and desires of those who sought it. It was personal and intimate, a sanctuary that they had all, at different times, turned to.

"No..." James breathed. The word was a mere whisper, but it carried the urgency and weight of a scream. It wasn’t just a denial – it was a plea, a raw edge of horror threaded through it.

"What’s wrong, James?" McGonagall demanded, her voice sharp with concern but steady as always. The calmness in her voice contrasted starkly with the atmosphere in the room, which seemed to crackle with tension.

Nathan, who had remained a stoic observer for much of this scene, could hold his silence no longer. "James," he intoned firmly, demanding an answer. His voice was laden with a fatherly mix of fear and authority, "What is it that you've realized?"

But James wasn't listening, or couldn’t hear them over the sound of his own accelerating heartbeat. Without another second’s hesitation, he pushed forcefully past Sirius, his body moving with a haste that spoke of deep-rooted fear. He bolted from the room, his footsteps echoing sharply down the corridor, an urgent drumbeat as he raced towards the Room of Requirement.

Nathan, with his heart in his throat, made a move as if to follow James, but McGonagall gently placed a hand on his arm, halting him with a single touch. Her face, a picture of controlled worry, conveyed a message as clear as day to Nathan: Let James handle this.

She held Nathan’s gaze for a moment, a silent exchange of trust and understanding passing between them. They, too, were in the storm, but at this moment, they needed to trust that James could navigate it.

Evan, witnessing James’s sudden departure, reacted instinctively. His face, already pale, seemed to lose even more color, and his eyes, which had already been shining with restrained tears, widened in alarm. He spun around quickly, his own panic mirrored clearly in his desperate expression, and made a move as if to follow James.

But Sirius was quicker. 

His grip tightened on Evan’s arm, not harshly but with a steadfast resolve that was unyielding. "It's not a good idea, Evan," he said firmly, locking eyes with the younger wizard. His tone was stern, but under the surface, there was a thread of understanding – a shared, silent ache that spoke volumes. "You need to let James handle this."

Evan’s face was a turmoil of emotions – frustration, desperation, and profound sadness all battling for dominance in the space of a heartbeat. He looked like he was on the cusp of arguing, of pushing past Sirius just as James had done, his jaw clenched and his eyes fiery.

But it was McGonagall’s voice, steady and authoritative, that held him in place. 

"Mr. Rosier," she intoned, her gaze unwavering and sharp, yet not without warmth. "You must go to Dumbledore's office. Now." 

Her command, though direct and unequivocal, was imbued with a deep, maternal kind of care – stern, but layered with a profound sense of compassion. It was the sort of tone that allowed for no argument but also offered a quiet sort of comfort that was desperately needed in that moment.

Finally, after what felt like an agonizing eternity in which the tension in the room could have been cut with a knife, Evan exhaled sharply and nodded, his shoulders slumping in resignation. It was as if a great weight had been pressing down on him, and with that breath, he was releasing a fraction of that load.

“I’ll go with you,” Lily said softly as she stepped up to Evan. Her voice was gentle and unwavering, a touch of warmth that seemed to ground him amidst the swirling chaos. Her eyes held a tender, empathetic depth, as if she was silently offering him her strength.

The fight seemed to drain from him as he took a deep, steadying breath. His eyes, for a fleeting moment, lingered on Sirius and McGonagall. In those eyes, there was a storm of emotions—pain, fear, regret, and a sliver of relief—silently conveyed. In that short glance, the magnitude of what had transpired seemed to fully settle upon him. The boy who entered the room was not the same as the one now departing.

With a final, resolute exhale, Evan turned, his shoulders square but noticeably weary. Lily’s presence at his side appeared to give him a semblance of comfort, her quiet solidarity a balm on his raw nerves. Together, they made their way down the corridor towards the Headmaster's office. Each step was heavy and deliberate, echoing with the weight of uncertainty, of a future suddenly and terrifyingly unknown.

~*~

James was running at full speed through the Hogwarts corridors, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. The fear propelling him forward was like a fire, burning hot and frantic within him. Students he passed by on his way turned to stare; others, caught in his path, were pushed aside, their indignant shouts of "Hey!" echoing hollowly in his ears as he raced past them. In that moment, nothing mattered to him but reaching Rylie.

He arrived at the familiar stretch of wall where the Room of Requirement was known to appear. His chest heaving, he paced anxiously back and forth in front of the blank expanse, his mind willing the magical room into existence. I need to see her. I need to know she's safe, he pleaded silently.

As if answering his desperate plea, the door materialized. Without a moment's hesitation, he rushed into the room.

Inside, he found Rylie sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, a vacant, hollow stare fixed on the flickering flames. Her eyes were unblinking, seemingly lost to the world around her. In her hand, she held a shard of blood-stained glass, catching the light from the fire in a menacing glimmer. James’s heart sank as he noted her sweatshirt sleeves pushed up past her elbows, revealing the fresh, red cuts on her arms and the blood that slid down her skin like cruel tears.

Words failed him. He couldn’t form a single syllable; his throat tightened as though constricted by an unseen force. Silently, he walked over and knelt down beside her, his movements gentle and deliberate, akin to approaching a wounded animal that might bolt at any sudden motion. Rylie didn't acknowledge his presence, her gaze remaining steadfast and distant, completely checked out from the reality surrounding her.

As if the room itself was attuned to their needs, a roll of gauze appeared next to James, accompanied by a bowl of clear water and a clean rag. He tenderly took the rag, dipped it into the water, and began to gently clean Rylie’s wounds, his touch delicate and full of care. He inwardly winced when he saw just how deep some of the cuts were, thinking how they were going to leave a lasting mark. He picked up the gauze and began to wrap Rylie’s arms, treating her wounds with a softness that contrasted sharply with the grim scene before him. 

As he worked, his eyes never left her face, searching for any sign of the vibrant, fierce girl he knew and loved. Her fiery spirit, that once sparkled in her eyes like an untamed blaze, seemed to be smothered in this devastating moment. Her usually lively eyes, which had always held a warmth that could rival the sun, were now vacant and distant, like a storm-swept sea devoid of light. In that moment, she seemed a world away, lost in a sea of her own torment. James felt a lump form in his throat, a physical response to the emotional agony of seeing Rylie in such a state. 

His hands, steady but gentle, continued to wrap the gauze around her arms, each wrap a silent promise that he was there for her, each touch a whisper of comfort he couldn't voice. It was a painful contradiction; he was so close to her in that moment, and yet he felt as if there was a vast, insurmountable distance between them. 

He continued to tend to her wounds with a tender meticulousness, taking care to avoid causing her any more pain than she was already in. Despite her distant demeanor, he could see the faintest wince cross her face with each touch to her injured arms, and it twisted his heart. He hated that she was in pain—both physically and emotionally—and he hated that he couldn’t magically make it all go away for her. 

Silently, he lifted her hands in his, grounding them in the warmth of his touch, as if trying to draw her back from the far-off place her mind had wandered to. His thumb lightly stroked over her knuckles in a soothing rhythm, a subtle and constant reassurance that he was right there with her, not going anywhere. 

"Rylie," he whispered, his voice soft and steady but laced with an underlying current of deep concern. "I’m here, okay? We’re going to get through this." He knew he couldn't fix what was broken, but he was desperate to be a pillar she could lean on, a friend she could count on, even when the world felt like it was crumbling around them. 

He wished, in that moment, that he could wrap her in something stronger, something that could mend not just her physical wounds, but the deep, raw emotional ones that he knew were far more painful. For a long moment, there was silence, save for the soft sounds of the fire crackling in the fireplace behind Rylie, casting a warm, flickering light over the two of them. It was a stark contrast to the cold, empty look in Rylie's eyes — a look that James was determined to banish, no matter what it took.

Rylie's eyes remained unblinking, still staring at a point far beyond the room they were in, but as James held her hands and continued his ministrations, he noticed the slightest change. It was subtle, barely there, but her hands, which had been limp and lifeless in his, twitched just slightly, as though reacting to his touch, as though part of her was trying to come back from wherever she had retreated to.

Encouraged by this, however small, James continued to speak, his voice as warm and steady as the firelight. "Ry," he said again, softer this time, as if saying her name could act as a lifeline, "you’re stronger than this. I know you are. And you don't have to face it alone." 

He paused, allowing the words to hang in the air, his eyes never leaving hers, willing her to hear him, to really hear him, and to let him be there for her in this excruciating moment.

For Rylie, everything felt like a blurred, distant dream. The cold, hard reality of her mother's loss, the betrayal of Evan, had pushed her into a place where nothing seemed quite real. The breaking of the mirror had been a sudden impulse, a desperate attempt to externalize the sharp, jagged pain that was tearing at her from the inside. She barely remembered picking up a shard of glass, only the cold, smooth texture of it in her trembling hand.

Then she was in front of the fireplace, feeling its heat but not truly warmed by it. It was as if she was watching herself from afar as she mechanically rolled up her sleeves and began to cut, each shallow incision a grim echo of the emotional wounds she couldn't escape from.

But then James was there, suddenly and vividly, pulling her out of that foggy nightmare and back into a reality that, while painful, was also warm, solid, and safe. She could feel the gentle pressure of his hands as he wrapped her forearms with gauze, and it was grounding in a way she hadn't expected. 

She barely registered the words he was saying at first, his voice a distant, soothing murmur. But as he continued, the soft, steady cadence of his speech began to break through the haze. She found herself focusing on the warmth in his voice, the genuine concern and love that were woven into every syllable.

Rylie's vacant eyes, which had been locked onto some indistinct point across the room, slowly shifted to meet James's. In his eyes, she saw a reflection not of her own agony, but of steadfast determination and deep care. It was a sharp contrast to the cold numbness she had wrapped herself in, and it tugged at something deep within her. 

Slowly, so slowly, she felt the icy detachment that had gripped her begin to thaw under the warmth of James’s unwavering presence. She didn't have the strength to speak yet, but as her eyes finally met his, a flicker of the vibrant, fierce girl he knew and loved sparked to life within them, fragile as a candle flame but unmistakably there.

As James finished wrapping the gauze around Rylie’s left arm, he tucked the end securely and gently set her arm down. He allowed himself a fleeting second to exhale, to push aside his own shock and fear, so he could be fully present for her. His eyes, warm and filled with a depth of compassion that few could match, never left her face. In this moment, he was searching for any sign of the vibrant, fierce girl he knew and loved.

In that seemingly endless moment, Rylie felt the first thread of connection she’d felt since her world crumbled. James's eyes were soft and steady, not demanding anything of her but showing that he was here, that he saw her pain and wasn't turning away. For the first time since she’d heard the unbearable news, Rylie didn't feel entirely alone.

To James, every detail of this moment was etched into his memory: the cold, sharp contrast between Rylie’s ashen face and the warm, flickering light of the fireplace; the ragged, almost ghost-like quality of her breaths; the way her bloodstained hands trembled just slightly as he held them. This scene, as harrowing as it was, marked a pivotal point in their lives, and he felt the magnitude of that deep in his bones.

“Rylie,” he whispered, his voice tender and imbued with a deep, quiet strength. "I’m here, with you, every step of the way," he promised. It wasn't a grand gesture or a sweeping declaration, but a simple and profound truth. In that statement was an unspoken vow that he wouldn't let her face this darkness alone, that he would be her constant through this ordeal.

In response, Rylie’s breath hitched slightly — a small, subtle reaction, but significant in its own way. She swallowed hard, her throat tight with emotions that were too complex and tangled to articulate. For now, she simply nodded, the smallest of movements, but it conveyed a world of gratitude and the beginnings of acceptance of the support that James was offering.

Rylie's voice, when it finally emerged, was rough and strained, like a delicate thread about to snap. "Please," she whispered, her words quivering with vulnerability, "don't mention this to anybody." She looked into James's eyes, her own reflecting a deep, raw fear. "I can't... I can’t end up in a mental hospital, James. I just can’t."

James felt his heart tighten further at her words, but his face remained a portrait of understanding and kindness. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from her face with a delicacy that contrasted sharply with the situation they found themselves in.

"I won't," he promised softly, "not a word to anyone. But Rylie," he added, his voice steady and sincere, "you need help. Professional help. Will you promise me that you’ll talk to a healer or a counselor?"

In that moment, James’s voice wasn’t pleading, but it carried a weight — a deep-seated concern for Rylie that she could feel in her bones. It was a plea for her to take a step, however small, towards healing and safety.

Rylie's eyes welled with tears, not from the physical pain, but from the emotional ache that James's compassion stirred within her. It was a stark reminder that she wasn't alone, that people cared about her well-being, deeply and genuinely. After a tense moment, she gave a slow, weary nod.

"I promise," she whispered, her words carrying the weight of that commitment, as painful and challenging as it seemed in that instant.

James gingerly wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, as if he was afraid she would disappear if he were to let go. In that moment, his own resolve broke, and the tears he had been fighting back began to flow freely. He didn't want to cry; he needed to be strong for Rylie, and it felt selfish to break down. But he felt her arms, tentative at first and then with increasing certainty, wrap around him, holding him close as she, too, began to cry.

"I love you," James whispered through his tears, his voice catching in his throat. "I don't want to lose you, Rylie. I was so scared..." His words were raw and honest, reflecting the terror he had felt when he saw the blood and the glass and the vacant look in her eyes.

Rylie's voice quivered as she replied, her own tears mingling with his. "I'm sorry," she whispered, the regret saturating her voice. "I'm so sorry, James."

He shook his head firmly, stopping her mid-apology, his hands gently cradling her face so she could see the sincerity in his eyes. "No," he insisted, his tone both tender and stern. "You don't have anything to apologize for. Yes, you scared me, and what you did was very serious, but I understand," he continued, his voice softer now, but no less intense. "I understand the pain can be too much, and it feels unbearable, but we're going to get through it. You're not alone, and we’ll find a better way, together."

In that moment, with his words echoing softly between them, they held each other tighter, as if trying to physically reassure each other that they were real and present and together through this storm.

Chapter Text

Evan Rosier sat uncomfortably in Dumbledore's office, his usually impeccable appearance marred by disheveled hair and a troubled expression. The room, usually warm and inviting with its scattered trinkets and portraits of past headmasters and headmistresses, felt oppressive to him now. He fidgeted with the cuff of his sleeve, avoiding the penetrating gaze of Albus Dumbledore, who sat calmly across from him.

The door to the office opened quietly, and in stepped Nathan, his face tight with controlled emotion. His eyes immediately found Evan’s, and for a brief, charged moment, the room seemed to grow even tenser.

“Evan,” Nathan began, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of urgency. “I need to know how you found out about the attack on Rylie's mum. We’re trying to piece together what happened, and any information you have is crucial.”

Evan looked up, finally, his eyes meeting Nathan’s squarely. He swallowed hard, then spoke, his voice more composed than he felt.

“I overheard some students in the hallway,” he said. “They were talking about it, whispering like people do about such shocking news.”

Nathan's eyes narrowed sharply, and his demeanor shifted; his investigative stance gave way to that of a father in distress, deeply involved in the situation. “Evan,” he said, his tone now markedly firmer, “don't lie. I know more than you think, and I can tell you’re not being truthful.”

Evan sighed deeply, resigning himself to the truth as he saw the resolve in Nathan’s eyes. He couldn't maint ain his lie, not under such circumstances.

“It was Darius Fawley,” he finally admitted, lowering his eyes. “He told me. He was trying to warn me, to give me a chance to protect Rylie.”

Nathan’s expression shifted slightly, a com plex mix of frustrati on, concern, and understanding. “Thank you for being honest,” he replied softly. “These are dark times, and we need truth and trust more than ever. We need to know who our friends – and our enemies – truly are.”

Dumbledore, who had remained silent during this exchange, now leaned forward slightly, his blue eyes, usually twinkling, now reflecting the grave nature of the situation.

“Thank you, Evan,” Dumbledore said softly. “Your account is vital as we w ork to understand the full scope of today’s events. We will talk with Darius, and we will ensure that the information is handled with the utmost care and discretion.”

Evan gave a curt nod, his face drawn and pale. He lifted his sleeve to wipe his nose and, as he looked down, he noticed a small reddish stain on the fabric. Left over from Ryl ie’s wrath, he thought, his stomach turning slightly at the reminder of the earlier turmoil. "May I go?" Evan asked quietly, his voice carrying a subtle note of exhaustion. He didn't want to be in the room anymore, nor anywhere near Nathan, for that matter.

"Not quite yet," Nathan replied with a sigh. He pulled up a chair, positioning it directly in front of Evan, and sat down. His movements were deliberate, his posture exuding a calm authority. "You want to make this right?" Nathan asked, his voice gentle but  firm, as he leaned forward to close the gap between them. 

Evan felt his heart speed up in response to Rylie’s father's proximity, his skin prickling with chills. He knew this man was dangerous; he was an Auror, after all. Evan had heard the stories from his parents about how Nathan was able to pry information out of the most stubborn prisoners. It took a moment for Evan to regain his composure, for his voice to find him again. “Y-Yes, sir,” he stammered, swallowing hard and instinctively leaning back in his chair, putting a sliver more distance between himself and Nathan.

Nathan's voice was cool and steady. "When you graduate, you'll join the Death Eaters and act as our spy."

Evan felt as if the ground had shifted beneath him. The weight of Nathan's words pressed down on him, and he found himself gasping for air. His eyes widened in horror, and he stood up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. "No!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing with disbelief and fear. "No, I can't— I won't." He began pacing, trying to process the enormity of the situation. "I want to help, but not that way. That's not who I am!" he protested, his voice filled with a raw desperation.

A soothing voice interrupted his frantic thoughts. "We understand the gravity of this request," Dumbledore said gently. Evan's steps slowed as he looked over to the wise old headmaster, finding solace in his kind eyes. "It's not a commitment we expect you to make on the spot. And if you decline, we won't hold it against you."

Evan's voice was shaky, but determined. "What about Rylie?" His eyes, glistening with tears, locked onto Nathan's. "If I were to join them, it would shatter her. I can't do that to her." Emotionally drained and overwhelmed, he sank back into the chair, the weight of the situation pressing down on him once more.

"Evan, you and Rylie are finished, and I don't want you associating with her any further. If you truly want to keep her safe, you will stay away from her," Nathan said, his voice stern and unwavering. His eyes were steely, a silent warning that dared Evan to challenge him.

Evan's face twisted into a sneer. "I bet you did this on purpose," he shot back. He was well aware of Nathan's disdain for him, and this situation smelled like a manipulation tactic to ensure his compliance. Evan shook his head defiantly and leaned forward, his own eyes narrowing as he faced Nathan with a resolve that highlighted his Slytherin heritage. "You're just bitter that your daughter found happiness while you couldn't."

The next few moments blurred together. Evan felt a fist connect with his face, and a flash of hot pain surged through him. He tasted a metallic tang as blood began pooling in his mouth and dripping down his chin. His head lurched back, his vision momentarily clouded, as he heard the urgent sound of Dumbledore shouting, "Stop!"

Blinking, Evan found himself staring up at the hig h ceiling of the headmaster's office. He let out a small, wry, humorless chuckle as he shifted his gaze to Nathan, who was visibly seething. "I’m not joining the Death Eaters," Evan declared, his voice steady but low. "I’m not going to be your puppet. You can find some other sorry sod for that," he added, his tone biting as he wiped the blood from his nose. He sniffed, nearly choking on the blood that slid down his throat, and pushed himself to stand, his stance unsteady due to the dizziness the punch left him with.

"Let me fix that for you," Dumbledore offered kindly as he rose from his desk. Evan, his defiance still at the forefront, almost refused, but Dumbledore had already raised a hand and stepped up to him. "I insist," the headmaster said calmly. He raised his wand, pointed it at Evan’s nose, and with a decisive 'CRACK', Evan let out a small gasp. His hands instinctively flew to his nose, but he breathed a sigh of relief as the pain rapidly subsided.

"Thank you, Professor," Evan managed to say, his voice softer now, genuine gratitude in his eyes.

During this exchange, Nathan had regained his composure and stood, his very presence radiating authority and intensity. "I understand you may have felt the need to keep what you knew to yourself," he began, his voice cold and controlled. "But no matter what you do, what you don't do, what you say or don't say, you'll never, ever, be able to keep Rylie safe. You painted a permanent target on her back the day you got involved with her," the man seethed, each word sharply articulated.

In defiance, Evan's voice rose: "If I’m with her, I can at least protect her!"

Nathan's reply was immediate and biting. "Protect her?!" he scoffed, his voice laced with bitter incredulity. "You couldn’t even protect her from a bludger!"

It was Nathan's turn to feel the crack of a broken nose. Evan hadn't even registered what he'd just done until he felt the sharp sting in his knuckles. He kept his fist clenched and brought it down to his side, just as Dumbledore swiftly moved to step in between them.

"Mr. Kipping," Dumbledore said calmly, yet firmly, "I believe it's time for you to leave. You may show yourself out." His eyes remained steady on Evan, his tone leaving no room for argument.

It took every ounce of Evan's self-control not to lash back out at Nathan as he passed by. He purposefully averted his eyes as Nathan paused next to him, as if to size him up, to assert his dominance in a silent, intimidating stand-off. A beat. Then footsteps, the sound of Dumbledore's office door opening, and finally closing, signifying the tense chapter’s end.

Evan nearly collapsed into the chair behind him, his entire body trembling from the confrontation. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and dropped his head into his hands as he tried to catch a breath that seemed unwilling to fill his lungs. He heard Dumbledore sigh softly and take a seat in the chair that Nathan had previously occupied.

"Love can indeed provoke great passion," Dumbledore remarked, as if in passing.

At that, Evan couldn't help but allow a small, almost wistful smirk to cross his face at the headmaster's phrasing. After a moment of contemplation, he lifted his head and whispered, “I love her.” He looked up from his hands and into Dumbledore’s wise blue eyes. “I can’t join,” he declared, feeling a lump forming in his throat. “Professor, I would rather jump from the Astronomy Tower than join those monsters,” his eyes were pleading, his voice hoarse and choked with emotion. The thought of bearing that dark mark on his arm was nauseating to him. And Rylie? Joining would be a betrayal that would shatter her world.

Dumbledore gave a small, compassionate nod. "Evan, I understand," he said gently. "It's a very difficult request; however, you are not required to accept. It is a choice."

Evan took a shuddering breath and stood. "I won't do it," he declared, his voice steady and resolute. Without wasting another moment, he swiftly turned and left the office.

~*~

As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, Evan sank onto the top step outside of Dumbledore’s office. His hands ran through his hair, a futile attempt to calm his racing heart. Join the Death Eaters? Become a spy? The very idea was abhorrent to him; it contradicted everything he held dear. And Rylie – he had already inflicted so much pain on her; if he took this path, it would utterly destroy her.

Slowly, he lowered his hands from his hair, and the memory of the look in James’ eyes when Sirius had said, "You know as well as I do that Rylie doesn’t need a wand to hurt others or herself. She's resourceful, and she's in pain. That’s a dangerous combination, and we're bloody aware of that," came rushing back. In that instant, Evan's body went cold, as if a Dementor had just swept into the stairwell.

He pushed himself off the step, nearly stumbling in his haste as he hurtled down the stairs. He knew what he was running toward might result in more bodily harm, but he deemed it a risk worth taking as long as Rylie was safe.

As he ran, he heard a student in passing say to one of their friends “What the hell is going on making everybody run today?!” Oh mate, you don’t want to know . Evan thought as his feet pounded the stone hallways, then a set of stairs, then to the wall. He grabbed his chest, panting as his heart pounded in his chest from the cardio workout. He closed his eyes and paced. And paced. And paced. He opened his eyes. Nothing. 

He felt a horrible sinking feeling fill his gut. 

Just as he was about to resign himself to disappointment, the familiar sound of stone grinding reached his ears, and the well-known door materialized before him. He released a breath he didn't realize he was holding and whispered "Thank you," as if the room could actually hear his gratitude. With a trembling hand, he approached the door; his right hand reached out to press down on the handle, while his left pressed against the door itself. Gently, cautiously, he pushed it open. Timidly, he poked his head inside while using the door as a shield, just in case, and his heart sank at the sight before him.

Inside, sitting in front of the fireplace, were Rylie and James. James was sitting in front of Rylie, her hands cradled in his. Jealousy surged like bile in his throat but was swiftly quelled as he took in the rest of the scene. Nearby was a bowl of water stained with blood, and a dark red-stained rag rested beside it. Confusion marked his face as he surveyed the scene, struggling to make sense of it. It wasn't until his eyes finally settled on Rylie that comprehension dawned — her forearms were both meticulously wrapped with gauze.

His heart sank.

At that moment, James looked up and locked eyes with Evan. In that instant, Evan could see a storm of emotions swirling in James' eyes: anger, sadness, jealousy, empathy. It was such an intense gaze that it almost made Evan recoil. He watched as James slowly extricated his hands from Rylie’s and whispered something to her before rising to his feet.

Rylie, for her part, didn’t react. She remained rigid, her eyes fixed intently on the dancing flames of the fire.

James moved towards Evan, his approach measured. As soon as he was within speaking distance, Evan's voice, soft and hoarse, barely rose above a whisper. “Wh... what happened?” he managed to ask, the concern palpable in his tone.

James was momentarily at a loss for words, grappling with a storm of emotions inside himself: anger, sympathy, fear, and... guilt. “She’s in shock, mate,” he finally said softly. Swiftly raising his wand, he cast a discreet silencing charm to prevent Rylie from hearing their conversation. “She cut herself.” At this revelation, Evan took a small step back, his brows furrowing deeply as his eyes darted back to Rylie, who was still staring vacantly at the fire. It sent a chill down his spine, seeing just how still she was, how devoid of emotion her expression had become.

“This is my fault,” Evan whispered, his gaze shifting back to James. He knew it. James knew it. Evan could sense the internal struggle within James, torn between validating Evan’s confession and offering some form of reassurance. Evan's eyes traveled back to Rylie. In that moment, he yearned to push past James, to wrap Rylie in his arms, to pepper her face with kisses, and to assure her of his deep and abiding love. But he couldn’t. His feet felt as though they were rooted to the floor. He knew that if she were to see him now, it would likely only exacerbate her pain. He needed to respect her need for space, to allow her the time to mourn and process the immense trauma she had endured.

“Listen, Evan,” James said softly, his voice carrying a weight of genuine concern. “Give her some time. She’ll come around.”

Evan chewed the inside of his lip, feeling the tightness in his chest. “I…” his voice caught in his throat as he tried to form his next thought. “I... please tell her I love her,” he whispered, his voice small and pitiful. He was a far cry from the prideful, confident Slytherin he used to be. Now he felt small, insignificant, and utterly crushed by the events of the last few weeks.

James nodded understandingly, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I will," he promised gently. "But she needs to hear it from you, when she's ready."

Evan’s eyes lingered on Rylie for a moment longer, feeling as though a vice was tightening around his heart. He desperately yearned to comfort her, to make everything right again. He took a step closer, almost unconsciously, his voice quivering. "Can I just go to her?" he asked, almost pleadingly.

James shook his head slowly, his face reflecting both sympathy and firm resolve. "It's not a good idea right now," he advised, his tone compassionate yet steady. "She’s in a delicate state, Evan. We need to prioritize what’s best for her."

Swallowing hard, trying to force down the lump that seemed to have taken permanent residence in his throat, Evan whispered, "How bad did she hurt herself?"

James sighed heavily, his shoulders dropping as if burdened by a great weight. "They were deep," he admitted quietly, the pain evident in his eyes. "There will be scars. I’ll make sure she gets help," he added firmly. “And you need to keep this between us. She doesn’t want anyone to know.”

"It should be me making sure she gets help," Evan asserted, his voice raw and charged with emotion, his frustration palpable. He stopped abruptly, shaking his head and closing his eyes, as if trying to ward off the painful reality. "What am I saying? It’s my fault she’s like this," he whispered, his voice breaking under the weight of his self-blame.

James looked at Evan, his expression softening, exuding warmth and genuine empathy. He stepped closer and placed a comforting hand on Evan's shoulder. "Evan, this isn't your fault," he replied soothingly. "You can’t control everything that happens. I know you care about her, deeply. We all do. But right now, what Rylie needs is stability and understanding. We have to respect her needs and give her the space to heal."

At this, Evan's eyes welled with tears that he fought hard to hold back. He looked into James’ eyes, his own reflecting a profound sense of loss and longing. Desperation edged into Evan’s voice, the agony in his eyes mirroring the plea in his tone. "Please," he begged softly, his voice trembling, "let me see her. I need to apologize, to tell her that I love her. I need her to know that I’m here for her, regardless of everything."

After a tense, heart-wrenching pause, James studied Evan’s face, clearly wrestling with the decision. He could see the sincerity in Evan’s eyes, the raw emotion that was laid bare. Finally, with a reluctant, empathetic nod, James whispered, "Okay," and stepped aside. But as he did so, his eyes remained fraught with concern, silently communicating to Evan the gravity of the situation and the need for gentle, respectful interaction with Rylie.

Slowly, Evan walked up to Rylie and knelt down in front of her. Her gaze seemed distant, lost in some far-off place, her eyes glassy and unfocused. She didn't seem to register Evan’s presence, her pale face void of any emotion, a stark contrast to the vibrant, lively girl he had fallen so deeply in love with.

"She’s had moments of clarity earlier, but she retreated back into herself. It's been fluctuating, this in and out state. She's present one moment and lost the next." James whispered gently, his voice imbued with a mixture of sympathy and pain.

Evan gave a small, understanding nod, his heart aching unbearably as he took in her fragile state. Her skin, once vibrant and full of life, now looked almost ghostly under the room's light, reflecting her internal storm. He lifted his hand, gently brushing a strand of her hair away from her face. His touch was as light as a feather, mindful, as though he was afraid that any more pressure might break her further.

"Rylie," he whispered softly, his voice quivering with emotion, imbuing his words with all the love and regret he was feeling. "It’s me, it’s Evan. I’m so sorry. I love you so much."

But Rylie didn’t respond. Her gaze remained fixed on something only she could see, her body almost statuesque in its stillness. Her eyes, usually so full of life and warmth, were now distant and veiled, like windows with the curtains drawn tight. 

Seeing this, Evan's throat tightened further, and he had to blink back the tears that were threatening to spill. The reality of the situation weighed heavily upon him, like a stone sinking into the depths of a still lake. With infinite tenderness, Evan leaned in and gently pressed a kiss to Rylie’s forehead. It was a kiss imbued with love, with apology, with promise. A kiss that said, 'I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere.'

Slowly, reluctantly, he rose to his feet, his eyes lingering on Rylie for a painful moment longer. The room seemed to constrict around him as he whispered a final, heartfelt "I love you," his voice breaking on the words.

He could feel James' empathetic eyes on him, understanding the depth of Evan's pain in this moment but also knowing that this was a path that Rylie would have to navigate in her own time.

"Thank you, James," Evan whispered hoarsely as he stood, his voice breaking as he brushed a tear from his cheek. With one last, lingering look at Rylie, whose presence was woven into the very fabric of his soul, he turned and quietly made his way out of the room. In that moment, his love for her was manifest not in words or embrace, but in the painful act of stepping away, of leaving behind the girl he loved more than anything to give her the space she needed to heal.

In her still form, Rylie felt more than saw Evan’s movements. As he stepped back, she sensed the warmth of his body receding like a retreating tide, yet his essence lingered, leaving an imprint on her fractured soul.

His footsteps, each one a soft drumbeat in the quiet room, seemed to reverberate within her, pulling her delicate awareness back to the present, back to this painful reality.

Tears welled in Rylie’s eyes, but they didn’t fall. Inside, a storm was raging. His words, those final whispered declarations of love, reached her, piercing through the numbing fog. In this fractured moment, as the distance between them grew with Evan’s retreating steps, a deep, aching yearning swelled within her.

She wanted to call out, to reach for him and pull him back to her, but fear and a profound weariness anchored her in place.

As the sound of Evan’s departing footsteps grew fainter, Rylie whispered, almost inaudibly, a response that she wasn’t sure even she could hear, but that she desperately hoped would reach him somehow: “I love you too, Evan.”

~*~

Evan stormed into the Slytherin dormitory, his rage barely contained. The door slammed shut behind him with a bang that resonated through the room. Darius was there, calmly sitting on his bed and polishing his wand. His nonchalant demeanor only stoked the fire in Evan’s chest.

“Darius!” Evan spat, his voice sharp as a knife. “How did Nathan know? How did he know I was aware of the murder of Rylie’s mum before it became public knowledge?”

Darius slowly looked up from his wand, his face unreadable. “I don’t know, Evan,” he replied, his tone steady and cool. “I haven’t told anyone. You know the stakes for both of us.”

“Don’t play games with me!” Evan hissed, his hands clenched into fists. “Your family are followers of Voldemort, too! Could it be that you’re the one leaking information?”

Darius’ eyes hardened, and he set his wand aside with deliberate slowness. He rose to his feet, meeting Evan’s gaze evenly.

“Do you think I’d risk my own neck, and that of my family, by betraying a friend? By betraying you?” he challenged. “Think, Evan. We’ve been friends since our first year. Would I really throw that all away?”

The tension in the room was electric, nearly suffocating. Evan’s eyes searched Darius’, hunting for a flicker of deceit but finding none. It was a face he had trusted for years, but now doubt had eroded that trust.

“There are spies everywhere, Evan,” Darius said quietly, his voice softer now but carrying an edge of steel. “In Voldemort’s ranks and beyond. It could be anyone. But it’s not me.”

Evan stared at Darius for a long, fraught moment, his anger mingling with the terrible, sinking feeling of uncertainty. The foundations of his world, already quaking, seemed to tremble even more.

He finally exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders dropping just a fraction.

“I want to believe you,” Evan whispered, his voice laced with pain and betrayal—not just at Darius, but at the twisted world they were now navigating. “I need to believe you.”

Darius stepped closer, his expression softened, showing the first real emotion he had displayed since Evan stormed in.

“And you should,” he replied softly. “Because it’s the truth. We’re in this mess together, Evan. We have to trust each other.”

“Trust each other?” Michael scoffed, his voice oozing with contempt as he stepped further into the room. “In times like these? You must be more naive than I thought.”

Evan’s eyes flicked sharply to Michael, his body tense as if ready to pounce. Darius, too, turned to face the newcomer, his own 

face hardening into a mask of disdain.

“What do you want, Michael?” Darius growled, his patience clearly waning.

“Oh, just thought you might like to know,” Michael drawled, clearly enjoying himself as he waved the letter in his hand, “that everyone has secrets. Even your precious Evan.”

Evan’s heart sank; the way Michael was holding that parchment, the smugness in his eyes—it was as if he was holding a live grenade.

“What is that?” Evan demanded, his voice steely, eyes narrowing dangerously.

“It’s amazing what people will spill when they think they’re safe,” Michael continued, ignoring Evan’s question. “This letter, for instance, is quite the revelation. Makes for an interesting read.”

Darius’ eyes shot to the letter, then back to Evan, a new storm of confusion and suspicion brewing.

“Enough games, Michael,” Evan spat, stepping closer to him. “Hand it over.”

Michael simply smirked wider, holding the letter just out of Evan’s reach.

He unfolded the letter slowly, deliberately, keeping his eyes locked on Evan as he began to read aloud:

“‘Protect what’s precious,’” he read, his voice dripping with mock tenderness.

The color drained from Evan’s face as he heard the words, each one landing like a physical blow.

“How… where did you get that?” Evan whispered, his voice quivering with a mix of fear and fury.

Michael’s smile never wavered. “I have my ways,” he replied cryptically.

Darius’ face contorted with disgust as he took a step closer to Michael, his stance decidedly protective of Evan. “You disgusting, conniving snake,” he hissed. “This isn’t your battle.”

Michael turned his attention to Darius, his sneer widening. “Oh, but it’s so much fun, watching you two squirm. It’s almost a sport at this point.”

Evan, at his breaking point, lunged for the letter, his patience exhausted and his demeanor fierce. Darius moved in sync with him, ready to back his friend up against the malicious joy that Michael was taking in their pain.

“As if your family is any cleaner, Darius,” Michael cooed, sidestepping Evan’s lunge and holding the letter just out of reach. “They’ve been in bed with the Dark Lord for ages.”

As Michael held up the letter, his eyes gleamed with a sickening blend of satisfaction and contempt. “You know, Evan,” he drawled, “I found it absolutely repulsive, the way you’ve been cavorting with that filthy half-breed. So, I thought, why not share a little secret with your ever-so-noble parents?”

He laughed coldly, the sound grating on Evan’s nerves like nails on a chalkboard. “I simply mentioned Rylie, her disgrace of a Muggle mother, and her high-ranking Auror father. How tempting a target they’d be for purebloods like us. Just couldn’t resist giving your parents a little…nudge,” he continued, his smirk widening. “And look at the results! I’d call that a lesson well taught.”

Suddenly, with a flourish, he produced an ultrasound picture from his pocket and held it up for Evan to see. Evan’s heart clenched painfully at the sight.

“Anna was merely the beginning, a warning,” Michael sneered, his voice cold and taunting. “But then this,” he waved the ultrasound picture for emphasis, “came to light. It was clear that you still hadn’t learned your lesson.”

In that moment, Evan’s mind violently flashed back to that harrowing Quidditch match – Michael, with calculated malice, directing the Bludger toward Rylie; her terrible, bone-crushing fall; the heartrending loss of their unborn child that followed. His entire world was collapsing because of the malicious creature before him now.

“The shame you brought to your own family, tainting our pure bloodline by planting a child in that half-blood,” Michael said, shaking his head in mock sympathy. He carefully slid the picture back into his pocket, his cold eyes never leaving Evan’s. “Still, you didn’t heed the warnings. So, I deemed it necessary to escalate matters. A strategic leak to Rylie’s father, about your foreknowledge and your pitifully futile attempt to prevent Anna’s murder.”

Evan’s face flushed a deep, furious red, his fists clenched so tight they trembled. “You’re a monster,” he seethed through gritted teeth. “You manipulated people’s lives, inflicted irreversible pain, all for what? A sadistic game? To scorn and torment me?”

Michael’s smirk remained, but his eyes were cold. “Oh, I consider it a public service,” he replied coolly. “A reminder of the station we’re supposed to maintain, and the filth we should avoid.”

At that moment, Darius stepped forward, his own expression hard and cold. “Enough,” he snapped sharply at Michael. “Your ‘lesson’ led to a murder, and you revel in it like it’s a joke. You’re a monster.”

Michael’s laugh was chilling as he turned to leave, the letter and the ultrasound picture still in his hand. “We’re all monsters here,” he called over his shoulder, “some of us just have the stomach to embrace it.”

Evan’s vision narrowed, focused solely on Michael, as if the rest of the world had faded into the background. Every word from Michael’s mouth was like a dagger, twisting deeper into Evan’s heart with each syllable. In that moment, he couldn’t see anything but red.

In a flash, Evan lunged forward, his clenched fist aiming straight for Michael’s smug face. But Darius was quicker; he grabbed Evan’s arm mid-swing, halting him in his tracks.

“Evan, stop!” Darius urged, his voice firm but laced with concern. “This is exactly what he wants.”

But Evan was nearly blind with rage, his chest heaving as he struggled against Darius’s hold. “Let me go!” he snarled, “He deserves to pay for this!”

Michael, seemingly unfazed by Evan’s violent outburst, tilted his head and regarded Evan with faux sympathy. “My, my,” he taunted, “looks like someone can’t handle the truth.”

He took a deliberate step closer, so that he was nearly nose to nose with Evan. In a dangerously low voice, he whispered, “You think hitting me will change anything? It won’t bring your little mistake back. It won’t wash the dirty blood from your life.”

Darius tightened his grip on Evan, his own face etched with restrained fury. “Get out,” he hissed at Michael, his voice as sharp as ice. “Before I decide that letting Evan loose on you might be a good idea after all.”

For a moment, the room seemed to stand still, the tension a palpable force. And then, with a final, contemptuous glance at both Evan and Darius, Michael turned gracefully and exited the room, leaving a heavy, suffocating silence in his wake.

Evan, still trembling with rage and grief, finally allowed his tense body to slump. Darius, acting as both a physical and emotional support, gently eased Evan back, his eyes filled with sympathy but also a deep, smoldering anger that mirrored Evan’s own.

“We won’t let him win,” Darius whispered fiercely, as if making a solemn vow. “We will protect Rylie, and we will make this right.”

~*~

It was the next day and Evan’s steps were quick and determined as he made his way through the corridors of Hogwarts, his mind replaying the confrontation with Michael over and over. He needed to talk to someone, to strategize, to act. The Marauders and Lily, they were his best hope.

He found them in the library, huddled around a table that was secluded in a quiet corner, their heads close together over a set of parchments.

“Evan,” Lily said softly, noticing him first. Her voice was gentle, her green eyes filled with understanding and concern as she took in his expression. “What happened?”

“I need to talk to you all,” Evan replied, his voice tight but steady. “It’s about Michael. And Rylie.”

At Rylie’s name, James’ head snapped up, his expression immediately shifting from relaxed to alert. Sirius’ eyes narrowed dangerously, and Remus’ expression tightened into one of deep concern.

“Sit down,” James commanded gently, gesturing to an empty chair beside him.

Evan took a deep breath and sat, his hands trembling just slightly as he pulled up a chair. He felt a reassuring touch on his shoulder from Remus, grounding him.With a slow, steadying exhale, Evan began to recount the confrontation in the dormitory. As he spoke, Sirius’s face was a storm of emotion, his hands clenched into fists.

“I can’t believe you knew, Evan,” Sirius interrupted sharply, his voice tight with anger and hurt. “You knew something was going to happen to Anna, and you kept it to yourself. How could you?”

Evan’s eyes met Sirius’s, filled with anguish but unwavering. “If I said anything, I’d risk further harm to everyone, including Rylie,” he replied, his voice breaking but forceful. “I was trapped, Sirius. I couldn’t risk more lives.”

Sirius looked at him for a long, tense moment. It was clear he was wrestling with his emotions, torn between his anger at Evan and his loyalty to his friend.

James placed a steadying hand on Sirius’s shoulder. “We’re all hurting,” he said softly. “And we’re all trying to protect people we love. We can’t undo the past, but we can act now. We can stop Michael.”

In that charged moment, the tension seemed to diffuse slightly, replaced by a shared determination. Lily’s face was pale but resolute, and Remus’ expression shifted to one of focused resolve.

“We’re with you, Evan,” James said firmly. “We’ll figure this out, and we won’t let Michael continue to harm Rylie or anyone else.”

Remus sighed as he sat back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “So what do we do?”

James leaned back in his chair, his eyes focused intently on Evan. “Michael’s family has extensive influence,” he said slowly, echoing the concern that weighed heavily on all their minds. “We need to tread carefully here. If we move openly against him, it could incite retaliation, not just against us, but our families as well.”

Sirius scowled. “So what?” he snapped, his dark eyes blazing with anger. “We’re just supposed to let him get away with this because his family is powerful?”

Remus shook his head, his voice steady. “No,” he said firmly. “We’re not letting anyone get away with anything. We just need to be strategic. Michael’s been hiding behind his family’s name for too long. We need evidence, something concrete that links him directly to all of this.”

Lily looked thoughtful. “We need proof,” she mused. “Something undeniable that can stand up to his family’s influence. If we have that, the Ministry will have to act, no matter who his family is.”

Remus nodded. “And we have to expose what he did in a way that his family can’t just sweep under the rug,” he added. “Public, undeniable exposure.”

Sirius’s eyes sparked at that. “Like the Daily Prophet?” he suggested, a fierce grin spreading across his face. “Imagine the headline: ‘Pureblood Avery Vicious Betrayal’. That would put an end to his family’s games.”

Evan shook his head slowly at Sirius’ suggestion of using the Daily Prophet. “No, that’s too risky,” he said firmly. “This needs to be handled quietly, without drawing attention or causing a public scandal. Michael’s family is dangerous; they could turn public sentiment against us or Rylie. We need to neutralize the threat that Michael poses, silently.”

He looked around at everyone seated at the table, his gaze intense and searching. “Who here is skilled with the Obliviate charm? We need to erase Michael’s memories of all this, of Rylie, of Anna’s murder plot, everything. We need to make him forget he ever had this vendetta.”

There was a tense pause before Lily finally spoke, her voice soft but steady. “I know how,” she said, meeting Evan’s gaze. “I’ve studied it extensively for my Defense Against the Dark Arts assignments. It’s risky and ethically complicated, but in this case…I’m willing.”

Sirius looked sharply at Lily, clearly surprised. “That’s a powerful charm, Lils. Dangerous if it’s not done just right,” he warned.

“I know,” Lily replied, nodding solemnly. “But it might be the only way to keep everyone safe without inciting an internal war. I can do it.”

Remus leaned forward, thoughtful. “We’ll need to create a scenario where we can catch Michael off guard, somewhere isolated where we won’t be interrupted,” he mused.

James, deep in thought, began to formulate a plan. “What if we set up a meeting?” he suggested. “We could send him an anonymous note, claim we have evidence of his actions but are willing to negotiate. It’s something he’d likely jump at, thinking he can eliminate a threat and secure the evidence.”

Evan nodded, seeing where James was going. “And when he shows up for this ‘meeting’, we catch him off guard and Lily performs the Obliviate charm. It’s clean, simple, and minimizes the collateral damage.”

Lily took a deep breath, acknowledging the weight of what they were planning. “And once his memory is wiped,” she added, “he won’t be a threat to Rylie or anyone else again. His vendetta will be gone, like it never existed.”

In that moment, they all felt the gravity of what they were about to undertake, but the resolve in each of their eyes remained steadfast. They had a plan, dangerous but potentially effective. For the sake of their friend, and for the future, they were willing to risk it.

“We need to go someplace where we don’t risk being overheard.” Sirius said as he looked around the library. 

Evan nodded. “Room of Requirement?” 

A slow, mischievous smile touched James’ lips and he gave a nod.

“I’ll grab Darius on the way and meet you there.” Evan said as he stood and left the library.

~*~

The Room of Requirement transformed into a subdued setting with comfortable chairs set around a low wooden table. The dimmed lighting, reminiscent of candlelight, highlighted the faces of everyone present. On the table, James had unrolled the Marauder’s Map, a detailed guide to Hogwarts.

“We can see everyone’s movements with this,” James explained, tracing his finger along a pathway on the parchment.

“Okay, so where do we trap him?” Sirius pondered, examining the map closely.

Remus pointed to a secluded corner. “The old potions storeroom? It’s remote and seldom used.”

Lily nodded. “Perfect for what we need. Now, how do we get Michael there?”

Before they could proceed further, the door to the room opened with a soft creak. Every head turned to see Rylie, looking weary but with a glint of defiance in her eyes. The room’s atmosphere grew taut with tension.

“What’s happening here?” Rylie asked, her gaze darting between the concerned faces and the map on the table.

The group exchanged uneasy glances, each trying to find the words. It was Evan who finally broke the silence. 

“We were... trying to find a way to handle Michael,” he began, taking care not to reveal too much too soon. 

Rylie's brow furrowed, a look of genuine confusion etched onto her face. “Handle Michael? Why? What has he got to do with anything?”

Sirius, never one to mince words, opened his mouth to speak, but James cut him off with a sharp look. This was delicate, and it needed to be handled carefully.

James cleared his throat, gesturing to the Marauder's Map. "We’ve been tracking his movements, Rylie. Michael has become a... problem."

Rylie's eyes narrowed, suspicion evident in her gaze. "You're all acting so cryptic. What aren't you telling me?"

Evan's gaze fell, the guilt evident in his eyes. "Rylie, it's complicated."

Lily moved closer to Rylie. "It's not just about confronting him, Rylie. There's a lot you don’t know.”

Remus quietly studied Rylie, clearly conflicted. “This room is about trust. And it seems only right you should know the truth.”

Rylie's eyes darted between each of them, trying to read their expressions. "The truth about what?"

“About everything,” Sirius muttered, his tone grave, signaling the gravity of what was about to be shared. He looked to Evan, urging him to just come clean. He was done with secrets. It was tearing the group apart.

Evan took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say. "It was Michael who told my parents about us. He told them about you being a half-blood, about your mum being a muggle... and about our baby.” 

Rylie’s eyes widened, and her hands trembled ever so slightly. "But... why? Why would he do such a thing?"

Sirius scoffed, "For fun, for power, to keep the bloodlines pure. Take your pick. Michael’s kind don’t need much reason."

James looked at Rylie with sympathy. "And there's more. Remember the Quidditch match? When you fell because of the Bludger?”

Rylie nodded slowly, her face pale.

"That wasn’t an accident," Evan whispered. "Michael did it on purpose because he knew about the baby.”

Rylie’s face crumpled in disbelief. “No... That’s impossible.”

Evan, looking deeply sad, nodded. “I’m so sorry, Ry. He found the ultrasound picture... he went through my trunk. That's how he knew.”

The weight of the revelations seemed to physically press down on Rylie, her legs wobbled, and she took a seat, trying to process everything. "All this time... all the pain, the loss... It was all because of him?"

Evan nodded, a tear sliding down his cheek. "Yes. And he didn’t stop there. He was the one who leaked to your father that I knew about the plot against Anna... because Darius warned me."

Rylie looked up sharply at Darius. “You knew too?”

Darius swallowed hard. "It was only a rumor when I heard and didn’t have a lot of details. I tried to warn Evan, hoping he'd be more protected than I was. It was a vague note. Nothing more."

She stared at the map, then back at Evan, fury building in her eyes. "So, what's the plan? How do we make him pay?”

James leaned forward. “We lure him, and then we use the Obliviate charm. Wipe his memory of everything he's done related to you, Evan, and the rest of us. It’s the safest way without causing a larger conflict.”

Rylie took a deep breath, her demeanor changing from a shocked victim to a determined fighter. "Then let's do it. Let's end this nightmare.”

Sirius studied Rylie for a moment, his face a mixture of admiration and concern. “Are you sure you’re up for this? This is dangerous and Michael’s no fool.”

Rylie squared her shoulders, eyes glistening with unshed tears but full of determination. “He's taken too much from me. I won't let him take anything else.”

James sighed, looking down at the Marauder’s Map. “The old potions storeroom is our best bet. It’s out of the way and nobody goes near it anymore. Now, the question is, how do we lure him there?”

Lily interjected thoughtfully, “Michael’s ego is his weakness. We need something or someone he can’t resist.”

Darius cleared his throat hesitantly, “What about a letter, appearing to be from his parents or some other influential person? An urgent message asking to meet in secret?”

Remus considered this, tapping a finger against his lips. “It’s a good idea, but it has to be Does anyone here have experience with forgery?”

Sirius grinned, “Well, not to brag, but I’ve mimicked a few signatures in my day, especially when it came to Hogwarts permissions.” James chuckled, nodding in agreement.

James, taking charge, said, “Alright, Sirius will work on the forgery. Rylie, Darius, and I will watch the Marauder's Map and alert everyone once Michael heads to the storeroom. Evan, Remus, and Lily, you’ll confront him. Once he’s inside, lock the door and proceed with the memory charm.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Are we sure about erasing his memory? It’s a significant step.”

Lily nodded, “It’s necessary, Remus. It’s the only way to ensure our safety without further escalating the situation.”

Rylie blinked and look around the group. “Why can’t we just do this while he’s sleeping?” Rylie asked looking at Evan and Darius. “I mean, you two are in the same house. Easier access?” she asked.

Evan shook his head and frowned. “Neither of us are good with the charm, we’d probably fuck it up and we need to be sure.” he said softly. He then took Rylie's hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “Once this is over, we start fresh. No more secrets, no more threats hanging over us.”

She nodded, a tear trickling down her face. “Yes, a new beginning. For all of us.”

The group, united in their mission, began to discuss the finer details of their plan, determined to bring an end to the nightmare that Michael had inflicted upon them.

The group spent the next few hours meticulously planning their operation, each detail scrutinized and each role defined. Sirius practiced his forgery skills, using a letter from Michael’s father that Evan had kept as a guide. The words he penned were vague but urgent, designed to pique Michael’s curiosity and lure him into their trap.

Meanwhile, Evan, Darius, and Rylie kept a close eye on the Marauder’s Map. They watched as Michael’s name moved around the castle, his path a winding trail of his daily routine. They had to time their operation perfectly, ensuring that Michael would be alone when he received the letter and that he would have no reason to suspect anything amiss.
Finally, after hours of preparation, they were ready. Sirius had finished the anonymous note saying he had news and they had to speak face to face.

Evan, Darius, and Rylie watched the Marauder’s Map, their eyes following Michael’s name as it moved closer to the Slytherin dormitory. As he entered the dormitory, Evan took a deep breath, knowing it was time to put their plan into action.

“Now,” he whispered, handing the forged letter to Darius. “Deliver this to him. Make sure he’s alone.”

“I’ll charm it and have it fly into his dorm so he doesn’t know exactly who it’s from. If he sees it’s from me he’ll think something is up.” Darius said, his face a mask of determination as he left the Room of Requirement, the letter clutched tightly in his hand.

As they waited for Darius to return, the tension in the room was palpable. Evan and Rylie held hands, their fingers entwined in a silent promise of support. James, Lily, and Remus stood at the ready, their wands gripped tightly in their hands. Sirius paced the room, his face grim but resolute.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Darius returned. His face was pale, but his eyes held a glimmer of hope. “He took the bait,” he reported, his voice barely more than a whisper. “He’s on his way to the storeroom.”

Evan nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. “Alright, everyone knows their role. Let’s do this.”

As they left the Room of Requirement, their steps were quiet but purposeful. They moved through the castle like shadows, their presence unnoticed by the few students still wandering the corridors. As they neared the storeroom, they saw Michael’s name on the Marauder’s Map, stationary in the room they had chosen for their trap.

James, Lily, and Remus moved forward, their wands at the ready. Evan, Rylie, and Sirius stayed back, watching as their friends cautiously approached the storeroom door.

Then, just as James reached for the door handle, the door swung open, revealing Michael, his face twisted into a cruel smile. “I was wondering when you’d show up,” he sneered.

James froze, his hand still outstretched. “What are you—”

Michael cut him off with a laugh. “Did you really think I wouldn’t figure it out? That I wouldn’t notice you lot whispering in the library?” For a moment, no one moved. Then, with a swift movement, Michael drew his wand. “I think it’s time we settled this, don’t you?”

Before anyone had the chance to react, Michael, with a swift and calculated movement, had launched a powerful spell in the direction of James. James, in a desperate act of self-preservation, managed to deflect it by a hair's breadth. The room, which had been filled with tense anticipation, erupted into a frenzied chaos. Spells zipped through the air, leaving trails of sparking light as the group fought valiantly against the formidable Michael.

Despite being heavily outnumbered, Michael held his position with a resilience that was both admirable and terrifying. His spells were delivered with a precision that was almost surgical and a power that was undeniably threatening. However, even with his remarkable skill, Michael was not invincible.

With an unexpected burst of energy, Lily sent a well-aimed spell hurtling towards him. It struck him directly in the chest, the impact sending him sprawling backwards in a graceless tumble.

Seizing the fleeting moment of opportunity, Lily moved forward with a swift, determined stride. Her wand was held out in front of her, pointed unwaveringly at the stunned Michael. “Obliviate!” she cried out, her voice resonating through the room, bouncing off the walls and filling the air with a palpable tension.

A brilliant light, as dazzling as the midday sun, flashed from her wand. It struck Michael straight in the eyes, blinding him momentarily. He gave a strangled cry, a sound that was both pained and surprised. His body went limp, his muscles no longer able to support him, and he collapsed onto the cold, hard floor.

For a moment, the room was eerily silent. The chaos of the fight seemed to have been sucked out, leaving behind a vacuum of silence. Then, Lily lowered her wand, her face pale from the exertion but her eyes filled with a steely determination. “It’s done,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, but carrying a finality that left no room for doubt.

They all stared at Michael’s unconscious form, relief washing over them. Evan stepped forward, his eyes meeting Lily’s. “Thank you,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude.

Lily gave him a small smile. “We’re a team, Evan. We protect each other.”

“We gotta go, before anybody comes snooping.” James said quickly as started out of the room. Everyone nodded in agreement, leaving Michael on the floor, unconscious.

“So we’re just going to leave him there?” Remus asked as they closed the door to the store room.

“Of course we are. He’s a fucking prat. He’ll wake up. He’ll be fine and hopefully won’t remember anything.” he said as they all started to walk down the hallway. 

The group dispersed, each heading back to their respective dormitories. Evan and Rylie walked hand in hand, the tension from the confrontation slowly dissipating.

"Are you okay?" Evan asked, his voice soft but filled with concern.

Rylie nodded, squeezing his hand in reassurance. "I will be," she said, her voice steady. "Now that he's out of the way."

Evan looked at her, his gaze filled with admiration. "You're stronger than you know, Rylie."

Rylie gave a small nod in return, but stayed silent as she slowly slid her hand out of his. Evan felt his heart drop at the motion and he stopped, slowly reaching out to touch his arm, silently asking her to stop. 

“Can.. Can we go to our spot?” Evan asked, his voice sounding almost pathetic. 

Rylie hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. The Room of Requirement had always been their sanctuary, a place where they could escape the pressures of school and just be together. But now, with everything that had happened, she wasn't sure if she could handle being there with him.

"I..." she started, her voice barely above a whisper. She glanced at Evan, his hopeful gaze making her stomach twist with guilt. She knew how much he still cared for her, how much he was hurting. And despite everything, she still loved him too.

"Okay," she finally said, her voice stronger now. "Let's go."

Evan's face lit up with relief, and he quickly grabbed her hand again, leading her towards the Room of Requirement. Rylie followed, her heart heavy. She didn't know what was going to happen, didn't know if she could handle the flood of memories that would inevitably come rushing back. But she knew she owed it to Evan, and to herself, to at least try.

As they walked, Rylie couldn't help but think about all the times they had been here before. The laughter, the tears, the shared secrets and stolen kisses. It was all so overwhelming, and she had to fight back tears as they approached the room.

They stepped into the Room of Requirement and it  transformed before their eyes, becoming a warm and inviting space. The walls were lined with bookshelves, their contents a mix of novels and academic texts. A large, plush sofa sat in front of a crackling fireplace, its warm glow casting dancing shadows around the room. A thick, soft rug covered the floor, and a small table held a steaming pot of tea and two cups.

Evan led Rylie to the sofa, his hand still holding hers. They sat down, the heat from the fire warming their faces. The room was silent, save for the crackling of the fire and their own breathing.

Evan turned to Rylie, his gaze falling on her arms. He gently slid one of her sleeves to her elbow. They were covered in bandages, a stark reminder of the pain she had been through. He gently took her arms, his fingers tracing the edges of the bandages. His heart ached at the sight, guilt washing over him.

"I'm so sorry, Rylie," he whispered, his voice filled with regret. "I should have protected you. I should have done more."

Rylie didn't respond, her gaze fixed on their intertwined hands. She could feel the sincerity in his words, the raw emotion in his voice. It was a reminder of the Evan she knew, the Evan she loved.

Evan leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the bandages on her arms. It was a simple act, but it held a world of meaning. It was an apology, a promise, a plea for forgiveness.

Rylie looked up at Evan, her eyes meeting his. There was a vulnerability in his gaze, a raw honesty that she hadn't seen in a long time. And in that moment, she knew that despite everything, she still loved him.

"Evan," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the crackling fire. "I..."

But she didn't finish her sentence. Instead, she leaned in, pressing her lips to his in a soft, tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with longing, with forgiveness, with love. 

Evan was taken aback for a moment, but he quickly recovered, returning the kiss with equal fervor. His hands moved to cradle her face, his thumbs gently stroking her cheeks. The kiss deepened, their breaths mingling, their bodies instinctively moving closer.

Rylie's hands moved to his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. She could feel his heart pounding against her palm, matching the rhythm of her own. It was a comforting reminder of their connection, of the bond they shared.

Evan pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers. His gaze was intense as he studied her face, his thumb tracing the curve of her jaw. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Rylie nodded, her eyes meeting his. “Just shut up and kiss me.” she whispered.

With that, Evan closed the distance between them once more, his lips meeting hers in a passionate kiss. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. Rylie responded eagerly, her arms wrapping around his neck as she lost herself in the kiss.

Their kisses became more heated, more urgent. Evan's hands moved to the hem of her shirt, his fingers slipping underneath to caress the bare skin of her back. Rylie let out a soft gasp, her fingers tightening in his hair.

Evan pulled back, his gaze questioning. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern lacing his voice. 

Rylie nodded, her breath hitching as his fingers traced patterns on her skin. "More than okay," she assured him, pulling him back in for another kiss.

Their bodies moved together in a slow and sensual rhythm, their movements guided by a profound connection. With each passing moment, their clothes were discarded, piece by piece, revealing their bare skin to the night air. They explored each other with an intensity born from a newfound urgency, their hands and lips leaving no inch untouched. The room was filled with the symphony of their passion, a delicate orchestra of soft whispers, breathy moans, and the crackling fire that served as the only witness to their intimate dance.

Evan, overcome with desire, positioned himself over Rylie, his body pressing hers into the plush rug beneath them. The heat of their bodies mingled, their skin electrified by each touch. His lips, warm and tender, sought the soft expanse of her neck, trailing a path of delicate kisses down to her collarbone. Rylie, responding to his every movement, arched into him, her body aching for more, her desires laid bare in the soft sigh that escaped her lips.

In this moment of perfect harmony, their bodies moved as one, their hearts beating in synchrony, and the outside world ceased to exist. Their universe seemed to shrink, collapsing into the intimate space between them. Time became irrelevant as they savored each touch, each kiss, and each whispered word, cherishing the depth of their connection.

As their passion peaked, an intense wave of pleasure washed over them, causing their bodies to tremble in unison. Their shared climax consumed them, leaving them breathless and exhilarated. They clung to each other, their bodies intertwined, trying to anchor themselves amidst the overwhelming ecstasy. Ragged breaths filled the air, and their hearts pounded in their chests, a testament to the intensity of their love.

They remained locked in each other's embrace, their bodies still entwined, their fingers tracing lazy patterns on each other's satiated skin. The world around them faded into the background as they reveled in the tranquility that followed their storm of passion. Time seemed to stand still as they basked in the afterglow, cherishing the intimate bond they had forged.

Finally, Evan, overcome with emotion, pulled Rylie even closer, wrapping his arms around her. With tenderness in his touch, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his heart overflowing with love for her. The words spilled from his lips, laden with raw emotion, as he whispered, "I love you, Rylie." The weight of his declaration hung in the air, a testament to the depth of their connection and the profound love they shared.

Rylie looked up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I love you too, Evan," she replied, her voice choked with emotion. Her heart pounded in her chest as she returned Evan's declaration of love. She felt a wave of guilt wash over her as the memory of her weekend with James flashed in her mind. 

She found herself torn between the love she felt for Evan and the guilt that gnawed at her conscience. She wanted to tell Evan the truth, to confess her mistake and beg for his forgiveness. But she was terrified of the consequences. Would he hate her? Would he leave her? The thought of losing him was unbearable.

Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions. She was in love with Evan, but she had betrayed him. The guilt was eating her alive, but she was too scared to confess. She was trapped in a vicious cycle of guilt and fear, unable to break free.

Rylie looked into Evan's eyes, the love in them making her heart ache. She wanted to tell him everything, to lay bare her soul and hope for his understanding. But the words wouldn't come out. She was paralyzed by fear, trapped in her own guilt.

"I love you too, Evan," she repeated, the words sounding hollow to her own ears. She wished she could take back her mistake, to erase the past and start anew. But she couldn't. All she could do was hope that Evan would never find out about her betrayal, and that she could somehow find a way to forgive herself.

Chapter Text

The next morning Rylie felt as if they were walking on eggshells. They wouldn’t know if the Obliviate charm worked until either someone finds Michael or he wakes up and wanders around the halls of Hogwarts trying to figure out what year it was. 

She poked at her eggs, finding that her appetite decided it didn’t want to join her today. This was supposed to be their last year at Hogwarts, they were supposed to have fun. They were supposed to forget about all the shit that was happening outside of the stone walls. Rylie sighed, pushing her plate away. Her eyes scanned the Great Hall, her gaze landing on the Slytherin table. Michael was nowhere to be seen, and she couldn't help but feel a pang of worry. Even though he had caused them so much pain, she didn't wish him any harm. Okay, maybe some harm.

"Eat something, Rylie," Evan urged gently, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. 

Rylie gave him a weak smile, picking up her fork again. As she forced herself to eat, she couldn't help but think about the night before. The passion, the intimacy, the declarations of love. It all felt so surreal, like a dream.  But the guilt still gnawed at her, a constant reminder of her betrayal. She had slept with James, and Evan had no idea. She felt like a fraud, pretending everything was fine when she was carrying such a heavy secret.

"Rylie?" Evan's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. "You're miles away. Are you okay?"

Rylie nodded, forcing a smile onto her face. "Just tired," she lied. 

Evan gave her a concerned look, but didn't press further. Rylie felt a pang of guilt. He was so understanding, so caring. He deserved better than her.

As the day went on, Rylie found it harder and harder to keep up the facade. She was constantly on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for Michael to show up, or for Evan to find out about her betrayal. Evan tried his best to get Rylie’s mind off things and suggested they go to the library on their free period. 

It was later that afternoon when James found Rylie and Evan in the library, working on their partnered potions project for Slughorn. They were hunched over a thick book, their heads close together as they jotted down notes.

"Hey," James said, his voice low so as not to disturb the other students in the library. Both Rylie and Evan looked up. 

"James!" Rylie exclaimed, a smile spreading across her face. "What are you doing here?"

"I was looking for you two," James replied, his gaze flickering between them. "I have some news."

Evan and Rylie exchanged a glance, their smiles fading. "What is it?" Evan asked, his voice filled with concern. 

James took a deep breath, his gaze steady. "They found Michael."

Rylie's heart skipped a beat, a feeling of dread washing over her. "When?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"This morning," James said, his voice steady. "In the potions storeroom. He was unconscious, and he has no memory of the past year."

Evan and Rylie exchanged a glance, their hearts pounding in their chests. "So it worked?" Evan asked. He gave a very small chuckle, “Remind me never to mess with Evans.” 

James shrugged, his gaze dropping to the table. "That’s what I thought.” he said as he grabbed a chair and sat across from them. “He's being sent home. His parents are,” and he used his fingers to mock quotes “ ‘worried’ and the school thinks it's for the best."

Rylie felt a wave of relief wash over her, but then a small wave of panic. “Won’t they be able to reverse the charm or launch an investigation on who did it?”

James shook his head. “I doubt it. I was there under my cloak and heard some of the teachers talking about the trouble he’s been causing, so they’re not very worried about how it happened. I think they’re just as relieved as we are.” He said with a smirk. 

Evan and Rylie both raised their eyebrows in shock. “Well then..” Evan said. “I hope the Ministry and his parents don’t have a difference of opinion on that, given who his parents follow.” Evan, his tone low so nobody can over hear.

James shrugged. “I have no idea, but if it takes the heat off,” he said. He then leaned forward, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. "Evan, Rylie," James said, "I think we dodged a bullet here. Let's just... let's just try to forget about all of this, okay?” 

Both Rylie and Evan nodded. As James stood, he paused before leaving. “See you at practice tonight, Ry?” James asked.

Rylie looked up, blinking. Right, Quidditch practice. She had been so worried about everything else that she had completely forgotten about the ‘normal things’ in life. She forced a smile and gave a small nod. “Yeah, I’ll be there.” she said. 

~*~

Later that afternoon, the dungeons, usually buzzing with whispers and the faint bubbling of distant potions, were eerily silent. In the heart of it all, the Slytherin common room was a cauldron of mixed emotions. Word had spread quickly about Michael’s inexplicable amnesia and his abrupt departure from Hogwarts.

A group of younger students huddled near the entrance, exchanging anxious glances and whispers. Michael, despite his controversial tactics, had been their Quidditch team and his fall from grace had shaken their trust in the older students.

Near the green-tinted windows, a few older students discussed the rumors. "Who could've done this?" one girl questioned, her brows furrowed in concern.

"They say it's some sort of memory curse. Dark stuff," replied a seventh-year with a shudder.

Among the loyalists, Adrian, a tall boy with raven-black hair and piercing eyes, stood as the de facto leader. "He's been targeted," he said, his voice cold, "By the other houses. Gryffindor, no doubt."

A murmur of agreement ran through the group. There was palpable anger, an unmistakable desire for retaliation.

Darius, leaning against the stone fireplace, felt eyes upon him. It was no secret he had been spending more time with Evan and less with his housemates. "You think the Gryffindors did this?" he asked Adrian, attempting to sound neutral.

Adrian narrowed his eyes, studying Darius intently. "Why? Do you know something we don’t?"

Darius hesitated. The weight of his secret alliance with Evan pressed on him. "All I know is that Michael wasn't innocent in all this," he finally replied, his voice low.

The room grew even colder. Adrian's eyes flashed. "Are you suggesting he deserved this?" he hissed.

Darius took a deep breath. "I'm suggesting that maybe, just maybe, he played a part in his own downfall."

The tension was palpable. Several students looked ready to explode. The common room, which once unified the cunning and ambitious, was now clearly divided.

From the corner, a voice spoke up, cutting through the tension. "We are Slytherins. We need to stick together, especially now. Fighting amongst ourselves is what they'd want."

All eyes turned to the speaker, a fifth-year named Elara. "What we need to do is find out the truth. Pointing fingers without proof isn't the Slytherin way."

Adrian, though still glaring at Darius, gave a curt nod. "Then let’s find the proof. Let’s find out who did this to one of our own."

Darius, having spoken his piece, made his way through the common room, dodging the knots of heated debate, and headed towards the dormitories. He glanced back once, ensuring that nobody was following him. Entering the dorm room he shared with Evan, he quietly closed the door behind him.

Evan was there, seated on his bed, looking contemplative. The glow from the green-hued lanterns cast eerie shadows on his face. The two shared a glance, understanding passing between them.

"We stirred the pot, didn't we?" Evan murmured, his voice low.

Darius let out a soft sigh. "More than we anticipated. But it was necessary."

Evan rubbed his temples. "I didn't think they'd rally this much, especially over Michael."

Darius sat opposite him. "That's pride. Slytherin pride. Even if they didn't like Michael, he was still one of us. Seeing him in such a state... it shakes the house's confidence."

Evan looked up, eyes sharp. "But we did the right thing, didn't we?"

Darius nodded slowly, "For Rylie, for you, for all of us who were caught up in Michael's games. But that doesn't mean there won't be consequences."

Evan clenched his fist, "If they come after us—"

Darius interrupted, "They won’t, at least not directly. They're looking for proof, remember? They won't act without it."

There was a heavy pause before Evan spoke, "We need to watch our backs, especially with the likes of Adrian now gunning for the truth."

Darius smirked, "Since when did a Slytherin shy away from a challenge?"

Evan chuckled, "I'm not shying away. I just want to be prepared."

Both of them shared a determined look, knowing that the game of intrigue and suspicion had only just begun.

Evan rose from the bed, straightening his robes. “I need to find James, update him on the situation.”

Darius gave a nod of agreement, “I’ll stay here, keep an ear to the ground.”

Just as Evan’s hand touched the doorknob, the door swung open. Adrian stood there, his cold gaze piercing through Evan. “Going somewhere?”

Evan met Adrian’s challenging stare, “Just stepping out. Why?”

Adrian’s expression was unreadable. “I thought we’re all looking for the truth. Figured you might have something to share. After all,” he glanced meaningfully at Darius, “you two are Michael’s closest friends.”

Darius smirked, “Being close to someone doesn’t mean we know their every move.”

Evan added, “Michael’s actions are his own. We’re just as shocked as everyone else.”

Adrian tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing, “Really? It’s strange how everyone directly connected to the recent events seemed to be at the heart of this mystery.” He leaned closer to Evan, “If I find out you’re keeping anything from us, Evan, it won’t end well.”

Evan held his ground, “We have nothing to hide. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Brushing past Adrian, Evan headed out, trying to maintain a composed pace, but the weight of Adrian’s suspicion pressed heavily on him. The stakes were getting higher, and he needed to ensure that their secret remained just that – a secret.

~*~

Evan's steps echoed softly in the vast, torch-lit corridors of Hogwarts as he made his way to Dumbledore's office, deciding last minute it would be best to talk to the Headmaster about everything. He would admit to what he did, saying he and Darius acted alone. The gargoyle statue guarding the entrance moved aside at his approach, revealing the spiral staircase. As he ascended, thoughts swirled in his head. 

Dumbledore's door was ajar, the office bathed in a warm glow, and Evan could see the silvery strands of Dumbledore’s beard reflecting the light. The headmaster was seated behind his desk, seemingly lost in thought, staring at the Pensieve. 

Evan cleared his throat, and Dumbledore looked up, his blue eyes penetrating yet kind. "Ah, Mr. Rosier. Do come in."

Evan stepped forward, nerves on edge. "Sir, there's something I need to confess."

Dumbledore gestured towards the chair opposite his desk. "Sit, Evan. I've always believed that the first step towards redemption is acknowledgment."

Taking a deep breath, Evan began, "Sir, it was me who wiped Michael's memory.” And he launched into the details of how Michael told his parents about Rylie, how her mum was a muggle, the baby and how he purposefully hit the bludger towards Rylie to ‘teach him a lesson.’ By the time he was done his nerves were shot and his body was vibrating.

Dumbledore's expression remained unchanged, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. "I suspected as much," he admitted. "But tell me, why come forward now?"

Evan hesitated, then replied, "Michael was a threat to those I cared about, especially Rylie. The things he did, the pain he caused... I felt I had no other option, he was threatening to do more. But now, with the Slytherins demanding answers, I realized I can't keep hiding. I need guidance, Professor."

Dumbledore leaned back, tapping his fingers on the desk. "Taking matters into your own hands has its repercussions, Evan. Yet, I understand why you did it. Michael's actions were reprehensible. But wiping a person's memory is a grave act, one that carries its own burdens."

"I understand, sir," Evan said, head bowed.

Dumbledore's gaze settled intently on Evan, a knowing glint in his eye. "Mr. Rosier, you may be surprised to hear that I had my suspicions about your involvement. Your actions, however drastic, come from a place of protection and desperation."

Evan's eyes widened, feeling exposed under the piercing gaze of the wise headmaster. "You... you knew?"

Dumbledore chuckled softly. "I suspected. There are very few happenings within these walls that escape my notice, and while my eyes may not see everything, my heart often feels it."

Evan lowered his gaze, feeling the weight of his choices. "I'm sorry, Professor. I know it wasn't right. But seeing what Michael had done and was willing to do to Rylie... I felt trapped and out of options."

Dumbledore's eyes, while understanding, held a firm resolve. "Taking matters into our own hands, especially with magic, can lead us down dangerous paths, Mr. Rosier. We must always strive to find solutions that don't compromise our integrity."

Evan hesitated, his anxiety evident. "So, what happens now? Am I to be expelled? Are the Slytherins going to come after me?"

The headmaster waved his hand dismissively. "Your actions, though extreme, were not without cause. I do not condone it, but I understand it. Your secret is safe with me. However, the unrest in the school, especially among the Slytherins, needs to be addressed." Dumbledore pondered for a moment. "I believe a way to mitigate the tension would be to have Slughorn inform them that Michael's memory loss was a result of a self-inflicted spell that backfired. I’ve already explained it to his parents. No one else was involved. It's a partial truth, but it will protect you and anybody else who was involved." Dumbledore commented, his eyes twinkling with a knowing glint, suggesting he was well aware of the other players involved. 

Evan pursed his lips, feeling himself shrink under the professor’s gaze before looking up, hope in his eyes. "You'd do that?"

Dumbledore nodded. "I will have Professor Slughorn speak to the Slytherins. He's respected among them and will ensure the message is delivered with care. Michael's actions were dangerous, and this narrative might also serve as a cautionary tale about the risks of dark magic and its unforeseen consequences."

Evan sighed in relief, gratitude evident in his posture. "Thank you, Professor."

The elderly wizard smiled kindly. "Go on now, Mr. Rosier. Reflect on your choices, their implications, and always remember that there are often other solutions to dire problems."

Evan nodded, leaving Dumbledore's office with a newfound sense of hope. He knew they weren’t completely out of hot water yet, but it was comforting to know Dumbledore was on their side and was willing to protect them.

~*~

The sun was beginning to set as Rylie made her way to the Quidditch pitch. The sky was painted with hues of orange and purple, the fading light casting long shadows across the field. She could see the rest of the team already there, their brooms in hand as they gathered around James.

As she approached, James looked up, a small smile playing on his lips. "You made it," he said, his voice barely audible over the sound of the wind.

Rylie rolled her eyes, but there was no real heat behind it. "I said I would, didn't I?"

James chuckled, shaking his head. "I had my doubts."

Rylie snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, you should have more faith in me, Potter."

James' smile widened, but he didn't respond. Instead, he turned back to the team, his demeanor changing from playful to serious. "Alright, team. Let's get started."

The team's practice was a whirlwind of movement and adrenaline, each member pushing their limits under the watchful eye of their captain, James. The pitch was alive with the sounds of brooms cutting through the air, the sharp calls of the players, and the occasional cheer from the stands. Rylie found herself swept up in the fervor, her worries momentarily forgotten as she focused solely on the game.

The wind was a playful opponent, tugging at her hair and clothes, but Rylie welcomed it. It was an exhilarating feeling, the wind against her face as she soared through the sky, the broom steady beneath her. The game was a dance, a chase that kept her heart pounding and her mind sharp. It was a welcome distraction from the worries that had been plaguing her.

James was a force to be reckoned with on the pitch. As the team captain, he was both a leader and a player, his commands echoing across the field as he expertly maneuvered his broom. His leadership style was firm but fair, a balance that pushed the team to their limits without compromising their safety. His skills on the broom were nothing short of awe-inspiring, his movements fluid and precise, a testament to his years of experience.

As the practice drew to a close, Rylie descended from the skies, landing her broom with practiced ease. Her muscles ached from the exertion, but it was a satisfying pain, a reminder of her hard work. She watched as James landed next to her, his hair tousled from the wind and a grin of satisfaction on his face. Despite the physical exertion, his eyes were alight with the thrill of the game, a clear indication of his passion for the sport. 

"Good practice," he said, his eyes meeting hers.

Rylie nodded, a small smile on her lips. "Yeah, it was."

There was a pause, an unspoken tension hanging in the air between them. James opened his mouth to say something, but then seemed to think better of it. Instead, he gave her a small nod, before turning to leave. 

“James..?” Rylie called out quickly without even realizing what she was doing. 

James paused with his hand on the door handle leading out of the locker room. He turned, feeling his stomach twist at the tone of which she said his name. “What’s up?”

She hesitated, looking between the floor and then up to James. “I’m going to tell Evan. It’s not fair to him, he’s done so much for me and… he deserves better than me. I can’t keep hiding this.” she whispered. 

James chewed his lip and before he spoke, Rylie continued, “and I know this will most likely have an impact on you and Lily if Evan were to tell her, but.. I don’t think he will. But.. I wanted to let you know.” 

James nodded slowly as he stepped up to Rylie. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. “You do what you feel is right and I’ll support you. We both made a mistake, and you’re right, we need to come clean.” whispered. He sighed as he stepped back, his hands dropping to his sides.

Rylie gave James a small nod as she began to mentally prepare herself for the fallout that was about to happen. 

~*~

Later that evening, Rylie was in the Room of Requirement, pacing. She had sent a note to Evan earlier in the day asking him to meet her. She was so nervous she seriously thought she may vomit.

She heard the creak of the door open and shut and looked up, seeing Evan standing in the doorway, his smile fading when he saw the look on Rylie’s face. “Ry, what’s going on?” he asked as he quickly closed the gap between them. He reached out to hug her, but she slowly pulled back, taking a deep breath. Evan blinked in confusion. “Rylie…?” he began as he felt a pang of panic stir.

Rylie took his hand and led him to sit down on the sofa and before she knew it, the words just started to tumble out of her mouth. “Evan, I have to tell you something.. And I need you to know that I love you very much, and if what I say changes how you feel or see me I completely understand because I deserve it..” Rylie took a breath, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

Evan stared at her, unsure of how to process what was being said. Then it clicked. He slowly removed his hands from Rylie, sitting back and putting a little bit of distance between the two. “You slept with James the weekend you were home, didn’t you?” he asked, his voice laced with pain. 

Rylie blinked at his statement and slowly nodded. “We… we got drunk.. One thing led to another..” she whispered and lowered her face, tears now free flowing. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.. I promise.” she said softly.

Evan though, was torn. He shook his head and slowly stood up, his fists clenched. He always felt as if he had to compete against James, and now this? “After everything I’ve done for you.” he whispered. He suddenly turned towards her, his eyes red, his cheeks wet with tears. “I loved you!” he yelled.

Rylie flinched at his words, her heart aching at the pain in his voice. "Evan, I'm so sorry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I never meant to hurt you."

Evan scoffed, shaking his head. "You never meant to hurt me? You slept with James, Rylie!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the room. "You betrayed me!"

Rylie's tears were falling freely now, her chest aching with regret. "I know," she sobbed. "I know, and I'm so sorry, Evan. I made a mistake, a terrible mistake, and I wish I could take it back."

Evan looked at her, his expression filled with hurt and betrayal. "You can't take it back, Rylie," he said, his voice breaking. "You can't undo what you've done."

Rylie nodded, her sobs wracking her body. "I know," she cried. "I know, and I'm so sorry, Evan. I never wanted to hurt you."

Evan's gaze hardened as he looked at her. "Well, you did," he said, his voice cold. "You hurt me, Rylie. And I don't know if I can ever forgive you for that."

With that, Evan turned and stormed out of the room, leaving Rylie alone, her sobs echoing in the empty room. She had confessed, she had told the truth, but the cost was far greater than she had ever imagined. She had lost Evan, the one person who had always been there for her, the one person who had loved her unconditionally. And for what? A drunken mistake with James. 

She felt a wave of despair wash over her, the weight of her actions pressing down on her. She had ruined everything, and there was no one to blame but herself. She had hurt Evan, betrayed his trust, and she didn't know if she could ever make it right. 

As she sat there, alone in the room, Rylie realized that she had not only lost Evan, but she had also lost a part of herself. The guilt, the regret, it was all-consuming, and she didn't know how to move forward. 

She had confessed, she had told the truth, but the cost was far greater than she had ever imagined. She had lost Evan, and she had lost herself. And all she was left with was the bitter taste of regret. 

~*~

Evan stormed out of the Room of Requirement, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt as if his world had just been shattered, the rug pulled out from under him. He had trusted Rylie, loved her more than anything, and she had betrayed him in the worst way possible. He wandered through the halls of Hogwarts, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He felt angry, hurt, and above all, betrayed. He had given Rylie his heart, and she had thrown it away for a drunken mistake with James. 

He found himself in the courtyard, the night sky above him filled with stars. He felt numb, his body on autopilot as he walked towards the Black Lake. He needed to be alone, to process everything that had just happened. 

By the lake, a gentle breeze caressed his face, bringing with it a deep pang of sorrow. He'd lost Rylie, the one he'd loved with all his heart. From his pocket, he retrieved an unopened pack of cigarettes. Not because he still smoked—Rylie had been the reason he'd quit—but the familiar heft of the pack had always been a small comfort. With a swift motion, he tore the pack open, selected a cigarette, and lit it with a flick of his wand. If ever there was a moment to revisit old habits, this seemed to be it.

A surge of resentment swelled within him at the thought of James as he took a drag from the cigarette. It felt as though he'd always been locked in a silent rivalry with James for Rylie's heart, and this confirmed his fears. Rylie had, if only for a fleeting moment, chosen James over him. Their bond had always been unique, something he knew he could never replicate or replace in her life.

He felt a lump form in his throat, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. He had been so blind, so naive. He had believed in Rylie, in their love, and she had betrayed him. He didn't know how long he sat there by the lake, his mind replaying the night's events over and over again. He felt a deep sense of loss, a void in his heart that he knew could never be filled. 

His thoughts meandered, drifting back to that serendipitous day by the lake when he first encountered Rylie. The sun had cast shimmering ripples across the water, the air punctuated with the distant hum of chatter and the gentle rustling of leaves. As he started to shed his layers in preparation for a refreshing dip, he couldn't help but catch Rylie's wide-eyed, slightly flustered expression. The rosy hue of her cheeks, the playful tilt of her eyebrows, and the mock scandal in her gaze were utterly captivating. It was such a candid, unexpected moment, a juxtaposition of vulnerability and surprise. And somehow, amidst the laughter and the banter that followed, he sensed an inexplicable connection with her. It was an electric undercurrent, a pull that whispered of shared secrets and future memories. In that seemingly ordinary fragment of time, he felt an undeniable urge to unravel the myriad layers of the intriguing soul that was Rylie.

Eventually, he stood up, his body feeling heavy. He needed to be alone, to process everything that had happened. He needed time to heal, to mend his broken heart. As he walked back towards the castle, he couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. He knew that things would never be the same again. He had lost Rylie, and he had lost a part of himself. And all he was left with was the bitter taste of betrayal. But he was a Slytherin, and he would not let this break him. He would pick up the pieces of his broken heart and move on. He would show Rylie, and everyone else, that he was stronger than this. 

He would survive. 

For now, though, he would allow himself to grieve, to feel the pain. But tomorrow, he would pick himself up and face the world again. Because that's what Slytherins do. They survive, no matter what. 

And Evan Rosier was nothing if not a survivor. 

~*~

The Gryffindor common room was bathed in a soft amber hue from the dancing flames of the fireplace, its light casting playful shadows over the ancient tapestries and polished wooden panels. The air was filled with the muted sounds of evening - the rustle of parchment, the soft sighs of students diving into their novels, and the intermittent bursts of laughter from groups recounting the day's events.

But when Rylie stepped in, her usual vibrant demeanor replaced by a heavy cloud of distress, the room's atmosphere shifted perceptibly. The unmistakable redness surrounding her eyes and the downcast tilt of her chin silenced conversations in their tracks. She threaded her way through the labyrinth of couches and chairs, not daring to lift her eyes and meet the sea of staring, curious faces.

In the hushed aftermath of her passage, whispers bubbled up like water from a spring, each student trading theories with their neighbor, wondering aloud about the reason behind Rylie's evident distress.

Lily, ensconced in a corner nook beside the fireplace, had been engrossed in a book. But as she caught sight of Rylie's retreating form, concern creased her forehead, replacing the relaxed lines of her earlier contentment. She marked her page, placing the book down with a soft thud, and with a sense of purpose, rose to her feet to chase after her friend. 

She found Rylie perched on her bed, back firmly pressed against the headboard, hugging her knees close. Shadows seemed to play on Rylie's face, her usually sparkling eyes now dulled and rimmed with the unmistakable redness of tears. A weighty sadness seemed to emanate from her, and Lily felt a tight clench in her heart at the sight of her best friend so broken.

"Rylie," Lily began, her voice gentle, choosing her words with care as she settled beside her on the bed.

Rylie's eyes, distant and haunted, remained fixed on the beautiful quilt at her feet, the loving gift from Mrs. Potter. Recognizing the need to connect, Lily reached out, her fingers softly skimming Rylie's arm. "It's okay to let it out," Lily whispered, her voice layered with concern. "You know I'm always here, no matter what."

A deep, shaky breath preceded Rylie's response. "It's over, Lily. Evan and I... it's over."

Lily's eyes widened, the shock evident. "What do you mean 'over'? Why? What on earth happened?"

Rylie's gaze seemed to splinter further, fresh tears blurring her vision. "I made a mistake, Lils. A terrible, irrevocable mistake."

A tension settled in Lily's chest, her mind racing to comprehend the gravity of the situation. "Hey, look at me," she implored, lifting Rylie's chin gently. "Whatever has happened, we'll get through it. You and Evan have something special. We'll find a way, alright?"

The words seemed to hang heavy in the air, "No, Lily. James and I... We... we were together."

For a fleeting moment, the world seemed to stand still. Lily's face went pale, her hazel eyes widening in disbelief. "You're kidding, right?" she whispered, each word punctuated by hope that this was some cruel joke.

Rylie's eyes, red-rimmed and clouded with regret, betrayed the painful truth. "If only I could say it was a bad joke, Lily. But I can't."

Lily tried to steady herself, but it felt like the room was shifting around her. She took a moment, a deep inhalation to steady her racing heart, then asked, her voice shaking, "When? When did this happen?"

Rylie hesitated, her fingers playing with a stray thread on the bedspread. "The weekend of mum's funeral," she murmured, her voice almost drowned by the weight of her guilt. "We were both so lost, so hurt. We drank too much, and... emotions got the best of us."

The silence that followed Rylie's confession was suffocating, thick with tension and unresolved emotion. Lily took a deliberate breath, her chest rising and falling with the effort. Slowly, she maneuvered herself to the foot of Rylie’s bed, her movements meticulous. Pulling her knees up, she tucked her feet underneath her, her fingers gripping the edge of the plush duvet.

In that elongated silence, the room's atmosphere became palpable. The walls seemed to close in, echoing back memories of midnight confessions, shared dreams, and whispered secrets between the two friends. A photo frame on the dresser caught Lily's eye, displaying a candid shot of her and Rylie laughing together, an ironic juxtaposition to the present moment.

When Lily finally spoke, her voice wavered with a deep, raw hurt. There wasn’t a trace of anger, only an abyss of betrayal and grief. "Rylie," she started, her throat tight, "how could you keep this from me for so long? James... he isn't some fleeting crush; he's a part of my life."

Rylie's tears flowed freely, each one carrying the weight of her guilt and fear. "Lily, every time I thought about telling you, I felt this paralyzing dread. I couldn't bear the thought of shattering our friendship, of changing the way you look at me forever. I just... I didn’t have the courage to face what I had done to us."

Lily ran her fingers through her hair, trying to comprehend the mess that lay before her. "You know, I'm not just hurt because of James. I'm hurt because you felt you couldn't come to me. We've been through thick and thin together, Rylie. This... this is just another hurdle, albeit a huge one."

Rylie looked up, searching Lily's eyes for any sign of hope. "Do you... do you think we can move past this?"

Lily took a moment, her gaze drifting to the quilt, each stitch a symbol of care and dedication. She exhaled deeply, her next words chosen with care. "I don't know, Rylie. I won't lie – this hurts. It feels like a betrayal on multiple fronts. But I also understand that mistakes happen, especially in moments of vulnerability and pain."

Rylie’s voice was a mere whisper. "I'm so sorry, Lily."

Lily nodded slowly. "I know you are. And while it's going to take time for things to heal, we'll take it one day at a time. But Rylie," she looked directly into her friend's eyes, "there needs to be transparency. No more secrets."

Rylie nodded tearfully. Lily leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her friend. “I’m going to go talk with James. If you hear screaming, just, let it be.” Lily said as she slid off the bed.

“Lily, it was my fault, please don’t..” Rylie whimpered.

Lily shook her head, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. "Rylie, it takes two to tango. He made his choice, too. Just know this: my love for you both hasn't waned. It's just... complicated now." With a melancholic smile, she gently squeezed Rylie's hand before heading towards the boys' dormitory.

Ascending the staircase, Lily could discern the boisterous laughter of James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter emanating from behind the door. Taking a moment to collect herself, she let out a determined breath and rapped sharply on the door.

"Come in!" called out a voice that she recognized as Sirius.

Pushing the door open, she was met with the sight of the Marauders, James' close-knit group of friends. James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter were sprawled across the room, a mix of homework and snacks scattered about.

James's eyes darted upwards, their usual sparkle of mischief replaced by uncertainty. He immediately recognized the steel in Lily's gaze and felt a cold knot form in his stomach, realizing that she knew.

Lily, with an unwavering stance, cleared her throat. "James, we need to talk.” She looked at Sirius, Remus and Peter then back to James. “Alone.” Her request leaving very little room for argument. 

Sirius, always astute when it came to reading a room, shot a subtle, knowing glance at James. With a nudge towards Remus and Peter, he quipped, "Oi, looks like Prongs might be in the doghouse. Best give these two some space."

Remus gave Lily a look filled with understanding, silently conveying his support. Peter, often a beat behind in social cues, wore a puzzled expression for a few seconds, but as the atmosphere in the room thickened, the penny dropped. Without much fanfare, the trio collected their belongings and made a hasty retreat, leaving the impending storm to unfold between James and Lily.

Once the door closed behind them, Lily took a moment to collect herself before speaking. "Rylie told me what happened when you were gone for the funeral." she began, her voice carrying a mix of hurt and a demand for an explanation.

James ran a hand through his already messy hair, exhaling deeply. "Lily, I... I don't know where to start. It was never supposed to happen."

She took a step closer, her green eyes searching his for answers, "Then explain it to me. Make me understand, James. Because right now, everything feels like it's falling apart."

James sighed, his gaze dropping to the floor, unable to meet the intensity in her eyes. The room felt stifling with the weight of regret and uncertainty. "It was the night of Rylie’s mum’s funeral. Everyone was emotionally raw, and she was shattered. We drank, trying to dull the pain... and things got out of hand."

Lily took a deep breath, processing his words. The complexity of her relationship with James always kept her on her toes, and Rylie was her friend. Both had let her down in the worst way possible.

She spoke, her voice a mixture of pain and resolve, "James, did you stop to think about the aftermath? The hurt it would cause Evan? And me? Did you think about what it would do to my trust in both of you?"

James' voice was laced with regret. "Every day, Lily. I've replayed that night in my head, wishing I could take it back. I never meant to hurt anyone. It was a thoughtless mistake."

Lily, trying to find a semblance of clarity amidst the storm of emotions, asked, "Do you have feelings for Rylie?"

He met her gaze earnestly, "No. It wasn't about that. It was a moment of vulnerability, a misguided attempt to find solace. It's you I love, Lily. Only you."

Taking a deep breath, Lily's next words came from a place of profound pain and understanding. "I believe you, James. I do. But that doesn't mean I'm not hurt. It's going to take time for this wound to heal."

James nodded slowly, hope and gratitude visible in his eyes. "I understand, Lily. I'm so, so sorry." He then raked a hand through his disheveled hair, visibly shaken by the weight of his actions. "I know I messed up.” he continued, “Merlin, I do. But I want to make this right, no matter how hard or long it takes."

She stared at him, a concoction of love, hurt, and frustration in her eyes. "You've got quite the mess to clean up, Potter," she retorted, trying to keep her voice steady. "And I'm not just a damsel waiting to forgive the knight in tarnished armor."

His chuckle lacked its usual cheer. "Wouldn't dream of it. Never seen you as a damsel. More like the witch who could set my broom on fire if I annoy her enough."

With a smirk hiding her pain, she stepped closer, touching his face. "You have no idea how tempting that sounds right now." Then, catching him off guard, she gently kissed him. Pulling back, her voice was softer, "But underneath it all, you idiot, I still love you."

James swallowed hard, the guilt evident in his eyes. "Lily, I... I never wanted to be the one to hurt you."

She nodded, her eyes glistening. "Yet, here we are. A long way from where we started. And James, I don't know how long it's going to take for things to feel... right again."

He reached out, hesitating briefly before placing a hand on her waist. "I'll wait, Lils. As long as it takes. We've faced dark arts and trolls together; we can face this, can't we?"

With a shaky sigh, she whispered, "I want to believe that. But right now, it's raw, James. And all I can ask is that you truly understand the weight of what happened."

He nodded solemnly, "I do. And I'll do whatever I can to fix it."

Lily nodded and gave him another soft kiss. “I’m going to go get some air..” she whispered. “I’ll be back later.” 

James nodded, the guilt still digging in his gut. The weight of their conversation, the anguish in James' eyes, it was all too much for Lily. Without another word, she turned and swiftly exited the room, leaving a broken James behind.

Outside James' room, Sirius, Remus, and Peter were lingering, trying their best to look nonchalant. However, as Lily walked by, their poorly veiled attempts at casual conversation faltered. The trio exchanged concerned glances, the tension in the corridor palpable. Each of them, in their own way, felt the magnitude of the situation, even if they didn’t fully know the details.

Lily hurried her pace, wanting nothing more than to escape the oppressive walls of Gryffindor tower and breathe in the chilly night air. The castle hallways echoed with the soft click of her shoes, but her thoughts were louder.

As she neared the main entrance, the large doors opened slightly, letting in a gentle gust of cold air. Evan, looking disheveled and drained, stepped inside. It was evident that he had been out for a while, perhaps trying to clear his head. His usually bright eyes seemed dim, contrasting sharply with the red rims from recent tears.

Lily hesitated for a moment, then approached him. "Evan," she started, unsure of what to say.

He looked up, meeting her gaze with a blend of pain and defiance. "Lily. I assume you've heard?"

She nodded, biting her lower lip. "Rylie told me. And I confronted James."

Evan let out a humorless chuckle. "Quite a day, huh?"

Lily could only nod. The silence between them stretched, both grappling with the complex web of betrayal and heartbreak.

"I loved her, you know," Evan finally said, his voice raw. "Trusted her. And I trusted James too."

"I'm so sorry, Evan," Lily whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Evan shrugged, although his eyes remained heavy. "I don't know what I'm going to do yet. But, I hope, for both our sakes, that we find a way to heal from this."

Lily nodded, tears filling her eyes. "Yeah. Me too."

Evan sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "I just... I can't wrap my head around it, Lily. How did this even happen?"

Lily hesitated, trying to find the right words. "Evan, I've had my fair share of arguments with James. And on that night, well, both he and Rylie were at their most vulnerable. Sometimes... sometimes emotions get tangled when you least expect it."

Evan's eyes searched hers, seeking understanding, maybe even a hint of justification. "You're not angry with James?"

Lily took a deep breath, "Of course I am. I'm furious, hurt, and a million other things. But after talking to him... after seeing the regret in his eyes, I decided to forgive him. That doesn't mean it doesn't still sting, but I understand, in a way, how it could've happened."

He looked down, fighting back his own tears. "I want to understand, Lily. I really do. Because I love Rylie. And thinking of a life without her, especially after everything we've gone through... it terrifies me."

Lily gently placed a hand on Evan's arm. "Forgiveness isn't about absolving someone of their mistakes. It's about freeing yourself from the burden of carrying that anger and hurt. Rylie loves you, and if you both want to move past this, it will take time, communication, and a lot of healing."

Evan's eyes flickered with a mix of hope and apprehension. "I don't even know where to start."

Lily smiled softly, "Start with a conversation. Rylie is just as broken about this as you are. If you both want it, you can find a way back to each other."

Evan took a deep, steadying breath. "I'll try, Lily. I'll try for us. But it's going to be a long road."

Lily nodded in agreement. "It always is. But the best things in life, the ones worth fighting for, they never come easy." 

Evan let out a frustrated sigh, looking towards the floor. "It's just hard to believe.”

Lily took a moment, gathering her thoughts. "Evan, their bond is unique. It's strong, yes, but it's more like two best friends, almost sibling-like. They’ve shared so much of their Hogwarts journey together, and the love they have for each other is real, but it's not romantic love."

"But they were together before?" Evan questioned, trying to make sense of it all.

Lily nodded, her eyes filled with sincerity. "They were, briefly, back in our fourth year. But they realized that while they deeply care for each other, a romantic relationship just wasn't right for them. They're best friends. Their bond might be intense, but it's not the same as the love Rylie has for you."

Evan looked up, seeking clarity in Lily's eyes. "How can you be so sure?"

Lily smiled gently, "Because, Evan, I've seen the way Rylie looks at you. There's a depth, a warmth, a connection that she doesn’t share with anyone else. It's different, Evan. And that's the love she has reserved just for you.” 

A mixture of pain and hope showed in Evan's eyes. "It's just... knowing she was with him during such an emotional time... it hurts. It should have been me.” He whispered.

Lily leaned in slightly, her voice soft but firm, "I get it. But you have to remember, with what had happened, you know your presence would of made things worse,” Evan went to speak, to object,  but Lily held up a hand and gave him a comforting look as she continued, “I know, it’s unfair. James was the only option to go and keep an eye on her.”

Evan scuffed, “He did more than that.” He said angrily. 

Lily sighed and gave a nod. “I know Evan, and they were both hurting. They sought comfort in a familiar bond. It doesn’t excuse what happened, but understanding it might help you find a way to heal."

Evan took a deep breath, nodding slowly. "Thank you, Lily. It's just a lot to process." Evan paused, then gave a thoughtful smile. "You know, before I started dating Rylie, I barely knew James. Just knew of him and his notorious antics, you know? But over the past year, I've had the chance to observe him more closely."

Lily raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh?"

"Yeah," Evan continued, "especially when it comes to you. The way he looks at you... there's no mistaking it. He's completely, utterly head over heels for you. Even in the middle of some wild scheme with Sirius and the others, when you walk by, he loses focus. It's like you're the only one in the room."

Lily's cheeks tinged pink. "I...I hadn't noticed. Or maybe I just didn't want to admit it."

Evan chuckled. "It's kind of endearing, really. How transparent he is about it, even if he doesn't realize it himself. His world revolves around you, and it's clear as day."

Lily sighed. "It makes things more complex, doesn't it? Knowing the depth of his feelings, yet having to navigate through all of this."

Evan let out a soft sigh, his eyes reflecting a deep understanding. "Love's a tricky thing, isn't it? But when I see the way Rylie looks at me, and how James gazes at you... I can tell it's the real deal. We've just got to wade through the mess and figure it out.”

Lily smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, Evan. For everything."

He gave a gentle shrug. "We're all just trying to figure things out, aren't we? One step at a time." As Evan began to make his way to the Slytherin common room, he paused and turned to Lily. “Could.. could you have Rylie meet me at the Room of Requirement in an hour?” He asked. 

Lily have Evan a soft smile and nodded. “I will.”

~*~

Sirius, Remus, and Peter quietly pushed the door open to the Gryffindor dormitory. It immediately felt like they'd stepped into a storm's aftermath. There was a palpable heaviness in the air, a mix of confusion, guilt, and a tinge of sadness. James sat on his bed, the curtains drawn slightly. His eyes, usually filled with mischief, were now clouded and lost in thought, darting towards the floor.

The faint glow from the lanterns made the scene even more surreal, casting long, wavering shadows on the walls. James's usually neatly made bed was a mess, a testament to the turmoil he must have felt.

Sirius, with his characteristic bravado, took the lead, striding in with an air of faux cheerfulness. "Blimey, Prongs! You trying to outdo the Slytherin dungeons in gloominess? What's happened?"

James sighed, running a hand through his already messy hair, making it stick up even more. The weight of the situation seemed to pull him down. "Rylie went to Evan."

Remus leaned against a bedpost, arms folded, "And she told him about...?"

James paused, swallowing hard before responding. His eyes, heavy with the burden of his recent actions, met Remus's. "The night after her mum’s funeral. Ry and I…." His voice trailed off. 

Remus blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Wait, what are you talking about, James?"

Sirius, typically quick with a joke or sarcastic comment, found himself at a loss for words. "Wait. You and Rylie slept together?!”

Peter's voice trembled slightly, both from shock and an innate nervousness. "Merlin's beard, Prongs... Why didn’t you tell us?"

James pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. "We were both a mess. Grieving, vulnerable... I'd never imagined things could go that way. We drank a little too much, tried to find solace in each other, and... one thing led to another. It was a mistake, and I regret it deeply."

Sirius’ eyes widened at the news and ran his hand through his hair. “Damn, are you serious!?”

James, despite the situation, smirked. "No, you're Sirius."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Har har. Very funny” He shook his head and sighed before he continued, "I had no idea, mate. I mean, you two were always close, but I'd never have pegged that."

James gave a rueful smile. "Neither would I. And now, everything’s just spiraling out of control."

Remus moved closer, placing a reassuring hand on James' shoulder. "We're here for you. We'll get through this together."

Peter, still struggling to process it all, muttered, "This year's just full of surprises, isn't it?"

Sirius let out a dry chuckle, "Understatement of the century, Wormtail.” Sirius sat down on his bed next to James. “So that’s why Lily was here?”

James winced at the mention of Lily, drawing his knees up to his chest. "Lily found out. Confronted me. She said Rylie told her everything."

Sirius whistled softly, the gravity of the situation hitting him. "Merlin's asscrack, James. How did she take it?"

James sighed deeply, his voice barely more than a whisper. "About as well as you'd expect. She's hurt. She said she can understand how it happened, but it doesn't make it any less painful."

Peter shifted uncomfortably. "So... is it over between you two? Are you and Lily...?"

James hesitated, staring blankly at a spot on the wall. "I don't know, Pete. She said she forgave me, but she's still hurt. It’s complicated."

Remus adjusted his glasses, his expression contemplative. "Lily's strong. It'll take time, but if the two of you really want to make it work, I believe you'll find a way."

Sirius smirked, trying to lighten the mood. "Yeah, plus, you've been chasing after her for years. You're not one to give up easily, Prongs."

James cracked a small smile, "Thanks, Padfoot. That’s... strangely comforting."

Sirius grinned, "Anytime, mate. That's what friends are for. Even in a mess as big as this."

Peter, ever the voice of uncertainty, spoke up. "You think Evan will try anything? You know... a hex or two?"

Remus shook his head. "I doubt it, he’ll most likely want to talk, but if he does throw hexes your way James, you deserve them.” he said with a wink. 

James looked a touch relieved. "That's something, at least."

Sirius perked up, a mischievous glint in his eye. "But if he does decide to challenge you to a duel, Prongs, I'd be more than happy to help defend your honor. Can you imagine the stories? 'Sirius Black, Defender of James Potter's Questionable Choices.'"

James laughed, "I don't think that's a title you want."

Remus rolled his eyes, a smirk on his face. "Your humility astounds me, Sirius. Not to mention it's a bit wordy, even for you."

Sirius feigned shock. "I think it's a title with gravitas! Besides, who wouldn't want tales of their valiant deeds sung by fellow Gryffindors?"

Peter giggled, "I can see it now, Peeves floating about, crooning, 'Sirius Black, with his heart intact, saved dear Prongs from a hexing attack.'"

James threw a pillow at Peter. "Honestly, Wormtail! We don't need to give Peeves any ideas!"

Sirius grinned. "Oh, come on, it has a certain... charm."

Remus smirked, "Well, between Peeves' tales and The Daily Prophet, we'll be legends in no time."

Peter chuckled, "Would've been a sight to see. Especially if you managed to get your robes all tangled again." he said to Sirius.

Sirius huffed, mock indignation evident. "One time! That happened one time!"

James chuckled, the first genuine laugh since his friends had entered. "Thanks, guys. Truly. I know I've made a mess of things, but I'm glad you lot are with me."

Remus nodded, patting James on the back. "Always, James. Through thick and thin."

Sirius winked, "Besides, you owe us big time now for all of this emotional support. I'm thinking unlimited access to your stash of Honeydukes' chocolates and a round at Three Broomsticks.”

Peter perked up, "And those Fizzing Whizzbees!"

James laughed again, feeling lighter. "Deal. And thanks, guys. Truly."

~*~

The Room of Requirement had transformed itself into a cozy, dimly lit space with two plush armchairs facing each other. The walls were adorned with rich tapestries, and a gentle, comforting warmth radiated from a fireplace set into one of the walls. Soft, muted tones played from an unseen source, creating an ambiance of solace.

Evan stood by the fireplace, anxiously running a hand through his hair as he waited for Rylie. When the door creaked open, he turned sharply to see her step in. She looked nervous, her usually sparkling eyes clouded with a mix of guilt and fear.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the weight of their situation hanging heavily between them. Rylie broke the silence first, her voice barely above a whisper, "Evan... I..."

He cut her off gently, "I spoke with Lily."

Rylie paused, a sharp inhale breaking the heavy silence. "You did?"

Evan nodded, his eyes distant, lost in the memory of the conversation. "She was trying to understand, just like I am. She told me about your friendship with James, about the history you two share." 

He looked up, meeting Rylie’s gaze. “She said the two of you found solace in each other that night, both grieving, both lost. She believes that it wasn’t about love or betrayal, but... vulnerability.”

Rylie’s eyes filled with fresh tears, the weight of her guilt compounded by Lily's understanding. "It was never about not loving you or wanting someone else. It was... a moment of weakness."

Evan exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair. "Lily mentioned how close you and James have always been. Childhood friends turned into confidants. She understands the depth of that connection. And while she’s hurt, she... empathizes."

Rylie bit her lip. "Does that mean...?"

"That I understand? Partially," Evan admitted, his voice strained. "But understanding doesn’t negate the pain, Rylie. I want to move past this, I really do. But I need to know there are no more secrets between us."

Rylie nodded fervently, taking another step closer. "No more secrets. I promise."

Evan hesitated for a moment, watching her intently. "I can't pretend that everything will go back to the way it was overnight. There's hurt here, deep hurt. But I love you, Rylie. And if we're going to get through this, we need to face it head-on, together."

Rylie wiped away her tears, her voice quivering. "I love you too, Evan. More than I can put into words.”

Evan took a step toward her, the gap between them narrowing, both physically and emotionally. He hesitated, fingers running over the back of the armchair, his gaze distant. Rylie, watching him closely, could tell he was wrestling with a memory, something that was gnawing at him.

"Evan? What's wrong?" Rylie asked hesitantly. 

Evan met her gaze, his eyes dark with emotion. "While we’re on the topic of honesty.” he began after he motioned for Rylie to sit on the sofa. “After the... incident at The Three Broomsticks, when you confronted me, something else happened."

Rylie's heart rate quickened, her mind swirling with uncertainty. "What do you mean?"

He took a shaky breath, grounding himself. “Your father apparently took the Floo Network directly to McGonagall’s office shortly after you arrived back, he was in there when we got there.”

Rylie nodded. “I know, James and Remus dragged me there after.” she said, not really wanting to relive that particular memory. 

Evan shifted uncomfortably at the mention of James and took a breath. “Well, we followed not long after, you had already left. By the time I got there McGonagall sent me to Dumbledore’s office with your father.”

Rylie's heart sank, the weight of that revelation instantly clear to her. "My dad? What did he want?"

Evan continued, the words tumbling out, "He told me they had reason to believe that I knew about the attack on your mum and didn't do anything to stop it. He said if I really wanted to make amends, I'd become a spy for the Ministry, infiltrate the Death Eaters,” he paused taking a breath, “and become one of them.”

Rylie's hands clenched into fists, her voice trembling with anger. "He had no right! Evan, tell me you didn't agree."

He looked pained, "I refused. I told him I wouldn't become like my parents, and I wouldn't do anything that could hurt you further. Your dad... he wasn't happy. He told me he didn’t want us being together, that he didn't want me anywhere near you."

Tears shimmered in Rylie's eyes. "Evan..."

He cut her off, "There's more. I told him he was just jealous, that we found happiness despite everything. He... he said I couldn't even protect you from a bludger. Things... got heated. We both lost control."

Rylie gasped, piecing together the timeline. "That bruise on your face..."

Evan nodded, confirming her suspicion. "Compliments of your father. Dumbledore intervened, had Nathan leave. He reassured me I didn't have to become a spy, and I told him I wouldn't. Rylie, I can't become something I despise, not even for redemption."

She rushed to him, wrapping her arms tightly around him. "You shouldn't have been put in that position. I'm so sorry, Evan."

He rested his forehead against hers, "It's not your fault. We're in this together. No more secrets."

Rylie nodded, tears streaming down her face. "No more secrets."

Chapter Text

The Charms classroom was abuzz with activity, but the weight of recent events hung thickly in the air. James, as always, was seated with Sirius and Remus, their usual banter slightly subdued. Across the room, Evan was engrossed in a discussion with a group from Ravenclaw. His occasional glances toward James were filled with a mix of hurt and confusion.

Professor Flitwick, always enthusiastic about his subject, clapped his hands together gleefully. "Today, students, we will be advancing our skills with the Levitation Charm! Prepare yourselves to work on more intricate and complex objects!"

After several demonstrations and corrections, the class was engrossed in the task at hand. Despite the personal tensions, James and Evan both excelled, making quills dance and books float effortlessly.

Sirius, attempting to lighten the mood, levitated his ink pot and made it zip around Evan's head. Evan, surprisingly playful in response, made it spin and sent it back towards Sirius. James watched, a faint smile on his lips. For a moment, it felt like old times.

As the bell rang signaling the end of class, students began packing up and heading out. James approached Evan hesitantly. "Evan," he began, a hint of trepidation in his voice, "can we talk? In private?"

Evan studied James for a moment, then nodded. They moved to a quiet corner of the room, away from prying eyes and ears. Once they were alone, James ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I know things are... complicated. Especially after yesterday."

Evan crossed his arms, trying to guard himself. "You could say that."

James hesitated, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking. "Evan, I need you to understand something," he began cautiously, searching Evan's eyes for any sign of comprehension. "I genuinely regret the night with Rylie. It's something that shouldn't have happened, and I can't express how sorry I am."

Evan's face was inscrutable, a storm of pain and thought swirling in his eyes. "Rylie and I talked," he began, his voice heavy with emotion. "She laid it all out for me. Understanding it is one thing, moving past it is another. I'm trying, but it's going to take time."

James's voice shook a bit, filled with obvious remorse. "Evan, she was a wreck afterward. And whatever mess that night caused, she's head over heels for you. The way she lights up talking about you, the look she gives you... I've never gotten that from her."

Evan's eyes darted away for a second, then back to James, a smirk tinged with sadness appearing. "Life's a real pain sometimes, huh?"

James let out a strained laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "You're telling me. I'd give anything to rewind and make that night disappear. All I can ask is that someday we can move past it."

Evan took a deep breath, his shoulders dropping a bit as some of the tension left him. "I won't lie and say your words fix everything, but you coming here, facing me and owning up? That says something, James. I can respect that."

"Thanks for hearing me out," James said, his voice still heavy with regret but touched by gratitude.

Evan let out a breath, rolling his shoulders to release some tension. "It doesn't magically make things better, but I appreciate you stepping up. It took some guts, James."

James cracked a small, genuine smile, "Trying to do right, you know?" He offered a hand, which, after a brief pause, Evan accepted. The handshake was solid, more a mutual understanding than a formal gesture.

James raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips as he tried to ease the lingering tension. "Thanks for not taking a swing at me," he said, his tone light.

Evan's lips curled into a half-smile, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Oh, it crossed my mind," he admitted, chuckling. "But going at it here wouldn't do any of us any favors. Plus, the last thing Rylie needs is to be playing referee between the two of us."

James scratched the back of his neck, a sheepish look on his face. "Very true. So, how about a truce? We keep things civil, especially when she's around. For her sake."

Evan tilted his head thoughtfully, then nodded. "Deal. Doesn’t mean we’re suddenly best mates or that I'll buy you a butterbeer, but I promise not to hurl a jinx your way when you’re not looking."

James laughed, the sound genuine. "Given the circumstances, I'll take that as a win. Thanks, Evan. See you around."

Evan nodded, "Yeah, take care, James." The two shared a nod of understanding, the first step toward mending a fractured relationship.

Evan was lost in thought, watching James's retreating figure when Darius's voice broke through his reverie. “Oi! What was all that about?” Darius inquired, matching Evan’s stride as they began their walk to their next class, Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Evan shot Darius a sidelong glance. "It's... complicated. Not something I want to get into out here," he murmured, his fingers subconsciously fiddling with the strap of his bag.

Seeing Evan's discomfort, Darius's curiosity deepened. Without missing a beat, he swiftly guided Evan by the arm into a nearby empty classroom. “C'mon, out with it.”

With a resigned sigh, Evan set his bag on a nearby table. "It's about Rylie." He hesitated, taking a moment to find the right words. “She and James... they...” He paused, the weight of it still hard to put into words. “They slept together. Just once, when she went home for her mum's funeral.”

The look of astonishment on Darius's face was unmistakable. "Blimey! You're having me on, right?" 

Evan shook his head, the weight of his emotions evident. “It's true. They both said it was a mistake, alcohol was involved. Still, it's messed up."

Darius looked deeply sympathetic, clapping a comforting hand on Evan's shoulder. “That's a punch to the gut. Are you planning to stick it out with Rylie?”

Meeting Darius's gaze, Evan’s expression turned resolute. “I have to, Darius. What she and I have... it’s special. She looks past my house, past my family reputation. She sees the real me. It hurts, what happened, but I can't let her go. Not like this.”

Darius leaned against a desk, crossing his arms thoughtfully. "You've got guts, Evan. Honestly, if I were in your shoes, I’d probably be off wooing some other girl by now," he remarked with a wry grin.

Evan shot him an amused glance. “Trust me, I've noticed your track record.” He paused, his smile fading a bit. “By the way, any whispers about Michael’s situation?”

Darius ran a hand through his hair, thinking. “Nothing major. Slughorn laid down the law in the common room yesterday, insisting it was all Michael's doing and self-inflicted. But you know Adrian, right? He's hell-bent on digging deeper, acting like he's some sort of investigative mastermind. I reckon he's just chasing shadows though.”

Evan smirked, "Lily did a pretty good job with the memory charm. And having the Marauders involved? They're practically pros at this cloak-and-dagger stuff."

Chuckling, Darius pushed himself off the desk. “Very true. Anyway, we should head out. Don’t want to be late and get detention, do we?”

As Evan slung his bag over his shoulder, an unsettling thought crept into his mind. Soon, he would need to share with Darius about Nathan's pressing invitation – or rather, veiled threat – to join the Death Eaters as an inside informant. But that conversation, he decided, was for another day.

They made their way through the winding corridors, occasionally dodging excited groups of students or the occasional Peeves' prank. The castle always seemed to come alive with energy as spring approached. The air was lighter, filled with the promise of warmer days and the year-end exams that loomed closer with each passing day.

"You ever think about life after Hogwarts?" Darius suddenly asked, seemingly lost in thought.

Evan blinked, caught off-guard by the question. "Sometimes," he admitted. "With everything happening around us, it's hard not to. Why?"

Darius shrugged, looking pensive. "All this talk of Death Eaters, the rise of dark magic, the decisions we're forced to make... just makes me wonder what kind of world we'll be stepping into once we graduate."

Evan paused, looking at his friend. "It's scary, no doubt. But we've always managed to have each other's backs, right?"

Darius nodded, flashing a brief smile. "Always. Just... promise me something?"

Evan raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Sure, what's up?"

"No matter which path we choose," Darius began, "whether we're on opposite sides or fighting side by side, promise we won't lose ourselves. No matter the pressures or the choices we're faced with."

Evan's throat tightened, thinking of Nathan's veiled invitation. He nodded slowly. "I promise. And I hope you'll do the same."

The two of them shared a silent moment of understanding before reaching the classroom door. As they took their seats, the weight of the world momentarily lifted, replaced by the more immediate concerns of hexes and counter-spells. But the conversation lingered, a stark reminder of the turbulent times they were living in.

~*~

The Great Hall was alive with the usual lunchtime chatter. Students were eagerly tucking into their meals, trading stories from their morning classes, and making plans for the weekend. However, the usual ambiance was shattered when an unfamiliar dark owl swooped down, dropping a heavy parchment in front of Evan Rosier.

Evan, recognizing the Ministry of Magic seal immediately, felt a cold dread settle in his stomach. He broke the seal and quickly scanned the contents, his face draining of color. Eager to know what was inside, he broke the seal and read aloud: "Your parents will be receiving the dementor's kiss in three days' time. You may see them before this happens. - Nathan Kipping."

The clamor of the Great Hall seemed to dissipate, replaced by a muffled silence that buzzed in Evan's ears. As he reread the letter, the reality of its message bore down on him, leaving him numb. Beside him, Rylie's grip tightened on the bench, her breaths uneven. The color had drained from her face, her gaze transfixed on the stark words penned by her own father.

Before they had the chance to exchange words or process the implications, the imposing figure of Professor Slughorn hurriedly approached them, his usually jovial face masked with a somber expression. "Mr. Rosier, Ms. Kipping, to my office. Right away."

As they rose to follow him, Rylie's fingers instinctively laced through Evan's, offering a tether of support amidst the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm them. The ambient noise of the Great Hall slowly returned, punctuated by the hushed tones of their peers speculating on the sudden summons.

Inside his cluttered office, filled with trinkets and crystal vials, Slughorn hesitated for a moment, as if searching for the right words. Meeting Evan's gaze with sympathy, he finally spoke, "I was informed not long before you. This is undoubtedly a burden heavy enough to bring even the strongest to their knees. Should you wish to confront this head-on and see your parents one last time, know that I'll do everything in my power to assist."

Evan's mind whirled, a tumultuous storm of emotions raging inside him. He felt a surge of anger toward his parents; their dark choices and loyalties to Voldemort had not only brought devastation to others, but now it also threatened to shatter the fragile peace he'd tried to build. Memories of a childhood marked by coldness and dark teachings, the shadows of Death Eater gatherings, and hushed conversations about the "Dark Lord" flashed before him. Yet, interspersed were moments of genuine parental affection - fleeting, but they were there.

Rylie watched him, her green eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and understanding. "I think," she began, her voice soft, "that saying goodbye might help you move forward.”

Evan's gaze snapped to hers, the anguish evident in his blue eyes. "They took your mother from you. How can you even suggest I see them? How can you even look at me the same way?"

Rylie took a deep breath, tears glistening. "Because I know you, Evan. I've seen your heart, your struggle to break away from your family's past. I won't pretend it doesn't hurt or that I've fully come to terms with it. But I also won't let their choices dictate our lives. We decide our own paths."

Evan swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. "Every day, I wonder how you can still stand beside me, knowing what they did."

Rylie gently cradled his face, forcing him to look into her eyes. "Because I love you, Evan Rosier. Not your parents, not your legacy. You."

Evan's emotions were palpable in the small confines of the room, making the atmosphere thick with tension. He struggled with the weight of his lineage, the actions of his parents clashing with the man he was trying to become. Every memory of them, from bedtime stories to secret shared glances during public Death Eater events, weighed on his mind.

Rylie, torn between her personal loss and the love she felt for Evan, reached out to touch his arm. The warmth of her touch provided a stark contrast to the icy coldness of the situation. She remembered her mother's laughter, her wisdom, her embrace. Yet, she also recognized that Evan was not his parents, and he deserved to find his own path.

Slughorn's eyes, softened by years of experience and understanding, held Evan's for a moment longer. "Mr. Rosier, the world often presents situations far beyond our youthful reckoning. But it's in these crucibles that character is forged. Ensure your choices reflect your truest self."

The dim glow of the magical orbs in Slughorn's office cast a subtle hue, making the room feel both intimate and surreal. Evan's eyes darted between those orbs and Rylie's gaze, as if oscillating between the weight of his past and the beacon of his future. "Facing them, knowing the weight of their sins," Evan's voice wavered, "it feels insurmountable."

Rylie's hand tightened around Evan's, her thumb tracing comforting circles on the back of his hand. "But remember, you're not alone in this. We're a team, remember?"

That quiet reminder seemed to ground Evan, even if just a little. He straightened, his gaze determined. "I'll go. I need to confront them. Not for their sake, but to find some semblance of closure for myself."

Slughorn gave a slow nod, admiration evident in his features. "It's a brave choice, Mr. Rosier. I'll make the necessary arrangements for your visit."

Evan sighed, the gravity of his decision sinking in. "Thank you, Professor."

Slughorn's lips twitched into a small, understanding smile. "Life often thrusts challenges upon the unprepared. But remember, Evan, the strength you demonstrate today will define the man you become tomorrow."

Rylie leaned in, resting her forehead against Evan's. "This won't be easy, but we'll face it together. I promise."

Evan's eyes shimmered with a mix of appreciation and pain. "Having you by my side, Rylie, it's all I have right now."

Slughorn, with his innate knack for reading the room, subtly cleared his throat. "I'll give you two some privacy. I have to send a quick note to the Ministry to arrange a portkey. Do take a moment for yourselves."

As Slughorn stepped out, the subtle ambient sounds of bubbling potions and the soft flutter of moth wings around a nearby lantern filled the room. Evan and Rylie, locked in a quiet embrace, leaned on each other.

"You really mean it? You'll come with me?" Evan whispered, hope shining in his eyes.

Rylie nodded determinedly. "Every step of the way." She pulled him into a gentle embrace, each drawing strength from the other as they prepared to face one of the most difficult experiences of their lives.

~*~

The wind screamed around Azkaban, carrying with it the relentless fury of the North Sea. The ancient prison, foreboding and dark, stood defiantly against the waves. Evan took a moment, drawing a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. Beside him, Rylie's grip tightened on his arm, her presence a silent pillar of strength.

The winding path leading up to the entrance was bathed in the eerie glow of the moonlight. Each step Evan and Rylie took echoed eerily. The looming silhouette of Nathan Kipping came into sharp focus as they neared, illuminated dimly by the torches flanking the doorway. Every line on Nathan's face was accentuated, revealing a complex tapestry of worry, fury, and deep-rooted protectiveness.

As they came closer, Nathan’s posture stiffened, the simmering anger in his eyes directed squarely at Evan. "Of all the damned places," he snapped, his voice a threatening low hiss, "you choose to bring her here?" The movement of his hand, gesturing towards Rylie, was sharp and accusing as his eyes flicked upwards, pointing at the malevolent, hooded figures of the Death Eaters. Their haunting presence in the sky, floating like spectral wraiths, only added to the thick tension that hung in the air.

Evan squared his shoulders, meeting Nathan's fierce glare head-on. "Rylie's not a child anymore," he shot back, every word dripping with defiance. "You can't control every step she takes."

Rylie, feeling the electric charge of the standoff, stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on her father's arm. "Dad," her voice was calm yet filled with resolve, "I chose this. Not just for Evan, but for me as well.” 

Nathan's eyes bore into Rylie’s, searching, perhaps, for that little girl he once knew. The seconds dragged on, but his rigid stance softened just a fraction. His voice, when he finally spoke, still held a hint of its icy tone, but it was layered with undeniable concern. "We'll have words later," he warned, though his shifting feet gave them the begrudging space they needed to pass.

Evan took a deep breath, trying to steel himself for the conversation ahead. Each footstep on the cold, stone floor of Azkaban seemed to echo his mounting dread. Nathan waved his wand and with a flick, a full bodied patronus of a wolf slipped from the tip of his wand. The silvery animal padded around the three of them before taking the lead in front of them. The walls of the prison bore the scars of countless spells and curses, their surfaces darkened by years of exposure to the hopelessness that permeated every corner of the fortress.

Rylie squeezed his hand reassuringly, sensing his internal battle. Her own heart was racing, a mix of anxiety and anger. But she was here for Evan, and she'd stand by him no matter what.

Behind them, Nathan walked with a rigid posture, his disdain for the prison – and particularly its two occupants – evident in every step. Yet, beneath his exterior, he was wrestling with a storm of emotions. He loathed Evan's parents for what they'd done, but he also couldn't deny the pang of sympathy he felt for his daughter and Evan, two young souls entangled in a tragic family legacy.

As they approached the cell, Evan's mother stepped forward, her pale face almost blending in with the prison's stone walls. Her eyes, once vibrant and full of fire, were now dull but still held a spark of the defiance that had led her to this fate.

"Ah, the prodigal son returns," she sneered, her voice dripping with malice.

Evan's eyes locked onto his mother’s. "I came to see you one last time, to try and understand, to find some semblance of closure," he declared, voice unwavering.

The room was thick with tension, the air seeming to grow even colder. The past and the present collided in that cell, forcing all present to confront their choices, their regrets, and the ties that bound them.

His father leaned forward, his eyes void of the warmth that most sons might recognize. The cold laughter that escaped his lips seemed out of place in the desolation of Azkaban. "Understand? You wish to stand here and understand the life choices of two seasoned Death Eaters? Our paths were chosen with conviction, long before you even understood the word. We did what we believed was paramount for the purity of our kind."

Evan swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the family legacy pressing on his chest. Tears brimming, he said, "And I'm trying to understand why. But also to decide my own beliefs, my own path. I'm making my choices now."

His mother, with a sardonic smile, tilted her head slightly. "Your choices? Influenced by what, Evan? The fickle friendships of Hogwarts? The dirty blood you roll around in? The teachings of those who don't understand our cause?"

Evan's jaw clenched tightly, the weight of all he had witnessed pressing down on him. "All those choices you've made, based on misguided beliefs of 'purity'... What has it truly brought you?" His eyes, hard and accusatory, swept over the dank cell that imprisoned his parents. "Power? Or just the weight of the fear you've spread? You're here, rotting, on the brink of losing your very souls!" he shouted, the pain evident in his voice.

His father met his gaze with cold defiance, his voice dripping with condescension. "You're still young, still naive. This," he motioned around the cell, "is but a sacrifice. Something you've never had the spine to understand. All of this, every choice, every action, was for the grand vision of a world where our blood, our heritage, stands above all."

The oppressive weight of the cell seemed to close in on Evan, making the air heavy and thick. "This is your sacrifice?" He scoffed, sarcasm dripping from every word as he gestured around at the cold, damp stone walls, the bleak environment. "Losing your freedom, tearing our family apart, all to bow to the whims of a deluded tyrant? Was watching me grow up without parents by my side a fair trade for your so-called 'cause'?"

His mother's eyes hardened, her voice cold as steel. "We provided for you, Evan. Gave you a prestigious name, a history to be proud of. Yet here you stand, belittling our choices and spewing this...sentimental nonsense."

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Evan met her gaze with unwavering determination. "A legacy tainted with fear and prejudice is not one I wish to embrace. I'll carve my own path, stand for values that truly matter, not the hollow ideals you've chained yourselves to."

His father's smirk was as chilling as the damp air that filled the cell, a gleam of superiority flashing briefly in his eyes. "You think ideals like love and compassion have any real weight, Evan? Look at where it's gotten us. Look at where it's gotten this world. Those emotions are fleeting, easily exploited."

Before Evan could deliver a cutting retort, the sneering tone of his mother interjected, her eyes, cold and calculating, flicking disdainfully over Rylie. "You brought the Kipping girl," she remarked with mock sweetness, her voice dripping with derision as she stepped closer to the bars. "A touching gesture, really. Is this your attempt to rebel, to rub our faces in our deeds? Or perhaps a desperate bid to gain favor with her father, the big bad Auror?"

Evan, his face reddening with frustration, instinctively stepped in front of Rylie, shielding her from his parents' disdainful gaze. "She chose to be here, by my side," he seethed. "She's shown more loyalty and understanding in these trying times than you ever did. This isn't about games or gaining favors. It's about finding peace and finally putting the past to rest."

Rylie, though taken aback by the harshness of his mother's words, found her voice. "I'm here for Evan," she said firmly, her eyes meeting those of his parents. "Not for you or for any other reason."

The cold, gray stones of the prison cell seemed to absorb the sound of his father's mocking laughter, making it echo hauntingly. "Ah, the idealism of youth," he mused, leaning back against the rough wall, shadows casting stark patterns on his weathered face. "You believe that your fleeting emotions will hold up against the tide of tradition, of lineage?"

Evan stood tall, the warmth of Rylie's hand in his contrasting starkly against the cold air. The connection gave him the strength he needed. "It's more than just feelings," he asserted with a steely edge. "It's about the choices we make, the paths we carve out for ourselves. We refuse to be ensnared by the dark legacy you've left behind."

But his father wasn't done. He leaned forward, his cold eyes fixed on Evan, every word deliberate and dripping with malice. "Speaking of choices, we did hear about your unfortunate mishap on the Quidditch field. That bludger incident. I’m happy to see it hit it’s mark." The sheer satisfaction, the hint of sinister joy in his voice, made Evan's blood run cold.

The contemptuous curl of his mother's lip made Evan's heart clench even before she spoke. "Good riddance," she declared disdainfully, each word a sharp dagger of spite. "It would've been nothing but a taint, a blemish on our proud pure bloodline. Imagine blending our esteemed lineage with such tainted blood."

The words struck Evan with the force of a physical blow. Memories of their heart-wrenching loss, still fresh and raw, surged to the forefront, causing a lump to form in his throat. Beside him, Rylie's hand became a vice around his, her knuckles turning white. Though tears threatened at the corners of her eyes, her chin was lifted defiantly, the hard set of her mouth a testament to her strength.

Drawing from the well of emotions churning within him, Evan took a steadying breath, his voice echoing with an authority that silenced even the distant murmurs in the corridor. "Enough!" Evan's voice resonated through the corridor. "You might not care about the pain your words inflict, but I do.”

Nathan, who had been watching in silent disgust from the entrance, interjected, "It's time to go.”

Evan gave Nathan a nod, signaling his acknowledgment as he gripped Rylie’s hand. “You know, this visit? It's not about you, or gaining any favors. It's about closure and, perhaps foolishly it seems, seeking a shred of humanity in you.”

Rylie whispered to Evan as she gave his hand a small tug, "They're not worth it. Let's go."

But Evan paused, looking back with fierce determination. "Just so you know, that child would've been worth ten of you. It might've had your blood, but it would've had my heart, and it would've known love. Something you clearly never understood. But we’ll make sure when we do succeed, and trust me, we will, that our child is raised knowing only love and tolerance.”

As Evan and Rylie turned their backs to the cell, ready to leave behind his parents to their fate, his father's voice, dripping with disdain, pierced the silence, "Regardless of your little escapades, you're still a Rosier, boy. That blood runs thicker than any fleeting emotions you feel now."

Evan froze and hesitated, then without turning and gathering what little strength he had left, spoke loud and clear for his parents to hear, "And I'll spend every day proving that doesn't define me." With that, he followed Nathan down the hall, with Rylie by his side, navigating the maze of Azkaban and the even more complicated maze of his own emotions.

The time allotted for the visit seemed to pass both painfully slowly and all too quickly. The air in the cell was cold and stale, each breath a tangible reminder of the desolation of Azkaban. As they stepped out, Evan felt a strange mixture of grief, anger, and relief. Despite everything, they were his parents, and the weight of their looming fate pressed heavily on him. Rylie, sensing his turmoil, wrapped her arm around his waist, her presence offering a semblance of comfort in the harrowing environment.

They walked in somber silence through the prison's dimly lit corridors, the distant wails and moans of other prisoners echoing eerily in the distance as they followed Nathan’s wolf shaped Patronus. The oppressive presence of the Dementors seemed to lift slightly as they neared the entrance, replaced by the brisk, salty air of the North Sea.

Outside, Nathan had already arranged for their portkey – a weathered old anchor, its iron rusted from years of exposure to the sea. It lay on the rocky shore, waiting to whisk them away from the fortress.

Before activating the portkey, Nathan took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the turbulent waves crashing against the cliffs. "You know," he began, his voice heavy with thought, "I've spent these past few months harboring so much anger towards you, Evan. I believed – perhaps wrongly – that the sins of the parents would inevitably be repeated by the child."

Evan looked up, his eyes red-rimmed but determined, he opened his mouth to speak, but Nathan continued, "Today, seeing you face them, witnessing the choices you're making for your own path... Maybe I was wrong about you."

Evan, taken aback, simply nodded, his voice catching in his throat. Rylie looked between the two men, sensing the fragile bridge of understanding beginning to form.

"Life isn't always black and white," Nathan said, softer now. "And perhaps it's time I acknowledge the shades of gray."

Without waiting for a response, Nathan tapped the anchor with his wand. In a whirl of motion and a brief sensation of being compressed, they were transported away from the grim island prison, leaving behind the ghosts of the past and facing an uncertain future.

Once they set foot on the familiar stone of Hogwarts' entrance, the weight of the day's events seemed even heavier. The towering castle, usually a source of comfort, now felt distant and indifferent to the pain and complexities of the human heart.

Nathan, breaking the silence, reached into his coat pocket, retrieving a silver-wrapped chocolate bar. Unwrapping it, he broke off a couple of pieces, handing one each to Rylie and Evan. Recognizing it as a remedy for the effects of Dementors, they both accepted gratefully and let the sweetness melt on their tongues.

Turning to Rylie, Nathan pulled her close in a protective embrace. The stern Auror facade fell away for a moment, replaced by the vulnerable look of a concerned father. "I've got to report back to the Ministry," he murmured into her hair. "Will you be alright here?" Pulling back slightly, he searched her eyes for reassurance.

She managed a nod, the earlier events causing her voice to waver. "Yeah, Dad. I'll be fine."

Evan cleared his throat, stepping forward. "Sir," he began, a hint of trepidation in his voice, "I want to thank you. For informing me and allowing me that moment with them." The sincerity in Evan's eyes wasn’t hard to miss.

Nathan studied Evan for a moment, his intense gaze making the younger man shift uncomfortably. The tension in the air was palpable. For a fleeting second, Evan wondered if he had overstepped, but Nathan finally spoke, his voice surprisingly soft. "It was the right thing to do," he admitted, his voice low. "No child should be kept in the dark about their parents, regardless of who they are or what they've done."

Evan nodded, taking a deep breath. "And... I hope, in time, I can prove to you that I'm not defined by their choices."

Rylie gently placed a hand on Evan's arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She turned her gaze back to her father, searching his eyes. "Dad, please understand, I'm with Evan. And together, we'll have a stronger chance against what’s out there."

Nathan sighed, a mixture of weariness and resignation evident in the sound. "I want you to be happy, Rylie. Always. Just remember to be careful. The world is not always kind to those with good hearts."

Rylie smiled weakly, trying to find solace in her father's words. "I will, Dad. I promise."

Nathan turned back to Evan, causing Evan to grip Rylie’s hand in a brief moment of fear. "You know, Rosier," he began, using Evan's surname as he often did, "I've had my reservations about you, especially given your lineage and... well, everything." He glanced briefly at Rylie, then back to Evan. "But today, I saw a young man grappling with the sins of his parents, trying to forge his own path, seeking redemption."

Rylie squeezed Evan's hand, offering silent support.

"I won't pretend I understand the depth of your emotions," Nathan continued. "But maybe, just maybe, I was wrong about you." He took a deep breath, as if admitting this was a feat. "Take care of my daughter, Rosier. She sees something in you, and I'm starting to as well."

Evan straightened, feeling the weight of that responsibility. "I will, sir. With my life."

Nathan nodded, casting one last lingering look at his daughter. "Take care, Rylie," he whispered, and with that, tapped his wand on the anchor and in a flash, he was gone. 

~*~

As Evan and Rylie neared the familiar juncture in the Hogwarts corridors, the ambient sounds of distant chatter and echoing footsteps faded. They both paused at the top of the stairs, the entrance to the dungeons and the Slytherin Common Room just a descent away. The atmosphere was thick with the weight of the day's harrowing events; memories that now bound them even closer.

Under the arched stone entrance, torchlight flickered, painting both their faces in a soft, amber glow. Evan, his usually confident demeanor replaced by vulnerability, turned to face her. The depths of his blue eyes seemed darker, reflecting a whirlpool of emotions. "Rylie," he murmured, his voice quivering just slightly, "today... everything that happened, I couldn't have faced any of it without you by my side."

Rylie, though equally exhausted from their ordeal, offered a gentle smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. The fatigue and emotional toll were evident in her posture and the slight tremble of her lips. "Evan," she replied softly, her voice carrying a strength she might not have felt, "it’s always been us. We face everything together."

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. Evan looked deeply into her eyes, as if trying to decipher an unsolved mystery. Then, as if coming to a silent decision, he leaned in. His fingers, cool from the chill of the castle, brushed against her skin, gently cradling her face. The world blurred for Rylie as she felt the gentle pressure of his lips against hers. It was a kiss that spoke of shared pain, mutual understanding, and an unbreakable bond.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested against one another, both catching their breaths. Evan whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "I love you, Rylie. More than I've ever known how to say."

Blinking back tears that threatened to spill, Rylie met his gaze, her voice a soft but unwavering whisper. "And I love you, Evan. Always have, always will."

At the precipice of parting ways, Evan seemed momentarily adrift, as if he stood at the crossroads of uncertainty. The gentle hum of castle life around them faded as he took a deep, steadying breath. "Will I see you at dinner?" he inquired, a hopeful note underpinning his voice.

Rylie, catching the hint of vulnerability in his question, responded with a reassuring nod. Her voice, which had been subdued just moments ago, now bore traces of determination, "Yeah, Evan. I promise, I'll be there."

A fleeting smile tugged at the corner of his lips. With a lingering glance that promised more conversations and perhaps a few shared secrets over dinner, Evan began his descent into the stone-laden heart of the dungeons. Rylie lingered for a moment, the soft torchlight capturing the retreat of his silhouette as he was swallowed by the labyrinthine corridors below.

Drawing a deep breath to fortify herself, Rylie began her own journey, the route towards the Gryffindor Common Room now seeming more like a pilgrimage through the recesses of her memory. The chilling aura of Azkaban; the raw, almost tangible tension of the confrontations; her father's steely yet supportive demeanor; and the ever-present anchor that was Evan — all swirled within her thoughts. With every step, she replayed each moment, each heartbeat, wrestling with the juxtaposition of pain, loyalty, and love.

The familiar sight of the Fat Lady's portrait broke her introspection. With a soft voice that held hints of exhaustion, she uttered the password. The canvas door swung open, releasing the golden warmth and inviting glow of the Gryffindor Common Room. The cacophony of conversations, laughter, and the crackling fire, though jarring in its contrast to her introspective journey, also served as a balm. It was a poignant reminder that even in the darkest of times, the comforting embrace of her chosen family at Hogwarts was just a word away.

The moment Rylie stepped into the Common Room, she could feel several pairs of eyes on her — some curious, some concerned. She took a seat by the roaring fireplace, the flames casting dancing shadows around the room, its warmth sinking into her bones.

Almost immediately, Sirius Black slid onto the seat next to her. His sharp gray eyes, which usually sparkled with mischief, now held a more somber tone. "Oi, Rylie," he began, trying to sound casual but failing. "You look like you've just returned from a trip to the Forbidden Forest. What happened?"

Before Rylie could respond, Remus Lupin and James Potter joined them. Remus, with his ever-present sense of empathy, gave Rylie a small, reassuring smile. James, on the other hand, looked particularly alarmed — his normally untidy hair seemed even more disheveled.

She took a deep breath, ready to relive the emotional rollercoaster she'd been on. "It's a long story," she began, her voice quivering slightly.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, gesturing around at the comfortable surroundings. "We've got time."

The warm glow of the fire illuminated their faces as Rylie began her tale. Her words painted vivid pictures, allowing the three boys to feel the damp, chilling atmosphere of Azkaban, the stark confrontation with Evan's parents, and the whirlwind of emotions they both had experienced throughout. She described her father's unexpected intervention, his protectiveness yet evident trust in Evan, and the resolution with which Evan had faced his family's legacy.

James, who had always shown an older-brotherly side around Rylie, knitted his brow, anger flashing in his hazel eyes as she recounted the malevolent comments of Evan's parents. "Those blasted Death Eaters," he muttered with vehemence. "They spout their twisted beliefs without a thought for the impact on their own kin."

Sirius nodded in agreement, the weight of his own tumultuous family history evident in his eyes. "Family," he murmured, his gaze drifting momentarily to the dancing flames before him. "It's a tricky thing. It can be the anchor that holds you down or the force that propels you forward. But whatever it is," he said, shifting his gaze to meet Rylie's, "you've got more than one kind of family." He draped an arm around Rylie, pulling her into a half-hug. "We're here for you. Always."

Remus, watching the exchange with his soft, amber eyes, added, "It's never black and white, James. Every person has their own journey, their own battles. Sometimes understanding is the first step to finding a solution."

James exhaled, his frustration slightly abated. "I know, Moony. I just hate seeing Rylie hurt." He paused, then added, "But, on the brighter side, it seems Nathan is finally warming up to Evan. That's progress, at least."

Rylie smiled weakly, appreciating the attempt to find a silver lining. "Yeah, I think so too. Evan's a good person. I just wish everyone could see that."

The quiet enveloping the group was broken by a soft thud at the window. An owl, drenched from the evening drizzle, tapped impatiently. James rose and opened the window to let it in. As it fluttered to a perch, he removed a rolled-up parchment tied to its leg.

Rylie watched, attempting to push back the heaviness in her heart. James unrolled the parchment and quickly scanned its contents, his eyebrows furrowing.

"What is it, Prongs?" Sirius asked, sensing the unease in his friend's posture.

James hesitated for a moment. "It's from Lily," he finally said, his voice betraying a hint of concern.

"Everything alright?" Remus inquired, leaning forward.

"She says there's a gathering tonight after dinner in the Room of Requirement. Dumbledore's asked for us. Wants to discuss something urgent."

A flicker of intrigue and apprehension passed through the group. Rylie looked between the three. "We should go then," she said, pushing herself off the sofa. The events at Azkaban had been draining, but the urgency of the letter couldn't be ignored.

Sirius nodded, determination setting in. "Let's do it."

Remus and James nodded in agreement. As they made their way out of the common room, Rylie couldn't help but think about how intertwined their lives had become. From personal battles to the larger fight against the Dark forces, they were inextricably connected, their fates bound together.

They all met in Great Hall, Evan following suit shortly after and taking a seat next to Rylie. All questioning what Dumbledore would want to talk to them about. After eating, Evan gave Rylie a quick kiss on the cheek and told her he’d meet up with her there and ran back towards his common room. Rylie gave a puzzled look but Sirius gently nudged her arm and encouraged her to get a move on as they began their way to the Room of Requirement

The journey was quick, and as they approached, whispers of conversation and the low hum of anticipation met their ears. They knew they were about to embark on yet another chapter in their fight against the darkness that threatened their world. The atmosphere inside the Room of Requirement was thick with anticipation. Candlelight flickered from every corner, casting long shadows across the walls. The mismatched chairs were filled with people that Rylie knew were aurors who worked with her father, a handful of senior Hogwarts professors, and a select group of students, all brought here by the summons of Albus Dumbledore.

Evan, with Darius trailing after, having slipped into the room just moments before Dumbledore began, settled beside Rylie, his eyes scanning the room, taking in the gravity of the situation. Their hands found each other’s beneath the table, seeking solace in the face of uncertainty.

The Headmaster stood in the center, the candlelight reflecting off his half-moon spectacles. "Thank you all for coming tonight," he began, his voice resonating throughout the room. "I've asked you here because of the grave circumstances we find ourselves in. The dark shadow of Voldemort continues to spread across our world, and the threat he poses becomes more evident with each passing day."

Rylie turned her gaze to Evan, seeing the turmoil in his eyes. Both knew that Evan's history, and the choices of his parents, would make his involvement in whatever was happening now a contention for some. But she also saw determination and the drive to create his own legacy, free from the shadow of his family name.

He paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in. "With graduation on the horizon for you, I wanted to discuss the next steps. The world beyond Hogwarts is not the safe haven that these walls provide. It is fraught with peril, especially for those who stand against the darkness."

Dumbledore's azure eyes bore into each student present, capturing their undivided attention. The aging wizard had seen many battles, but there was a palpable urgency in his tone now. "I'm well aware of the weight and magnitude of this request, particularly for those of you who are still on the cusp of adulthood. But we find ourselves in dire circumstances. Thus, I'm extending an invitation for you, promising young witches and wizards, to join the Order of the Phoenix. Your unique skills, undying bravery, and unwavering conviction could tip the scales in our favor against Voldemort."

The room was ensnared in a profound stillness, punctuated only by the soft flicker of candles and the muffled breaths of those in attendance. The gravity of the Headmaster's words hung in the air, a testament to the pivotal crossroads they were now facing.

James rose from his seat. The flames cast dancing shadows on his earnest face. "Voldemort and his followers have shown their true colors. I won't sit by and watch our world fall apart. You have my wand, Dumbledore," he declared, his tone resolute.

Sirius, with his usual flair for dramatics yet sincere in his conviction, stood beside his best friend. "Wherever James goes, I follow. It's high time we show those Death Eaters what we're made of."

Lily's gaze met Dumbledore's, her face a picture of steely resolve. "I've seen the fear in the eyes of muggle-borns, and the chaos that's spreading. I’m in."

The room seemed to ripple with energy as, one after another, the students vocalized their commitment. Frank Longbottom, his posture exuding quiet strength, affirmed his commitment, with Alice by his side nodding fervently. Marlene McKinnon's fiery spirit shone through as she pledged to fight, and Dorcas Meadowes voiced her decision to stand up for justice. Remus, his normally calm face etched with conflict due to his condition, finally spoke up. "It's not about what we are, but what we choose to be. I'm in."

Evan stood, his hand gripping Rylie’s and locking eyes with Dumbledore. "My family's choices have cast a long shadow, but I am not them. I'll stand with the Order, to fight for a better future."

Darius nodded and raised his hand. “Same here. I’m in.”

As Dumbledore's words settled in the room, Rylie felt a jumble of emotions, mostly pride and nervous anticipation. She caught Evan's eyes and squeezed his hand, drawing a small smile from him. 

She cleared her throat a bit, "Well, Professor, I think I speak for most of us when I say... we're not just going to sit around and let things happen, are we?" Her voice wavered just a touch, but her determination was clear.

Dumbledore's eyes crinkled in what seemed like a mix of amusement and appreciation. "No, I suppose not. And that's precisely why I've asked you all here."

The atmosphere remained thick with tension, but there was an underlying current of camaraderie. People began to share stories, offer insights, and brainstorm. It wasn't a grand rallying of troops; it felt more like friends planning a very important project.

As the group gradually began to part ways for the night, Rylie lingered with Evan. The echoing corridors of Hogwarts were comfortingly familiar, a backdrop to so many shared memories.

The Room of Requirement's door clicked shut behind the last of the departing members, leaving Rylie and Evan bathed in the soft glow of the lingering candlelight. The intricate tapestries adorning the walls of the corridor seemed to shimmer as their footfalls echoed through the stone passageways.

Evan paused, his silhouette framed by a window that showcased the vastness of the star-studded night sky. "Today was... overwhelming," he murmured, the weight of their experiences evident in his hushed tone. He raked a hand through his dark hair, momentarily lost in thought.

Rylie stepped closer, the warmth between them tangible. "It's a lot to take in, for sure," she agreed, her gaze searching his. "But every step of the way, every challenge, every battle... we face it as one." She touched his arm lightly, hoping to offer some solace.

Evan's eyes met hers, a flicker of gratitude evident. "I don't know what the future holds, Rylie," he whispered, "but there's no one else I'd rather have by my side."

She smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "Same here, Evan. Whatever comes next, we'll handle it. Together." The weight of the day seemed just a bit lighter as they continued down the corridor, their steps in sync, united in purpose and spirit.

Just as Rylie and Evan seemed to find a moment of peace, they were suddenly yanked from their reverie by a pair of strong arms. The duo stumbled forward a few steps, nearly losing their balance, before realizing they were being engulfed in a rather boisterous double-hug from behind.

"Oi! Look at these two, all lost in each other's eyes!" James exclaimed, his voice a mix of teasing and genuine affection. He released Evan but not before planting a dramatically loud smooch on the side of his face, causing Evan to make a face of bemusement and disgust as he wiped his cheek with the sleeve of his shirt.

Sirius, being no less dramatic, followed suit, making exaggerated kissy noises as he enveloped Rylie in a bear hug. "Such tender moments, eh?" he laughed, his fingers playfully ruffling her hair, causing it to become an even bigger mess.

Lily and Remus, sharing a knowing glance, slowly made their way towards the pair, their steps light amidst the soft murmur of the Hogwarts courtyard. Lily's eyes danced with mischief as she commented, "Of course, it'd be you two, turning a picturesque moment into... well, this." She gestured at the slightly disheveled Evan and Rylie.

Remus, his lips curled into a wry smile, nudged Sirius playfully. "Honestly, their knack for interrupting is almost an art form. Or perhaps it's their unique way of coping with third-wheeling."

Evan, feigning indignation while trying to smooth out his robes, quipped, "Oh, come on! It was getting far too dramatic. Someone had to bring us back to reality."

Rylie, her cheeks rosy from laughter and Sirius' enthusiastic hair-tousling, rolled her eyes playfully, "Always right on cue. Just when we needed a dose of your signature charm and grace." She shot a mock glare at James and Sirius, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

As the group made their way through the corridors, the weight of the day's events seemed to lessen with each step, replaced by the warmth of camaraderie and friendship. It was moments like this that made Hogwarts feel truly like home and both Rylie and Evan were forever grateful for it.

The route to the Gryffindor tower had never seemed so short with the group all together, their chatter and laughter echoing off the stone walls of the castle's winding hallways making the earlier moments of that day slide into the back of everyone’s minds. The Fat Lady's portrait was in sight, and all of them were basking in the comfort of being back in familiar territory.

Evan, sensing the moment to say goodnight was drawing near, stopped Rylie just before they reached the portrait. Turning to face her, he gently cupped her face and leaned in, giving her a soft, lingering kiss.

"Aww, aren't they precious?" James said, teasingly, as he clutched his hands over his heart, feigning emotional vulnerability.

Sirius, never one to be outdone in drama, threw his arm dramatically across his forehead, making loud, exaggerated kissy noises and wailing, "Oh, the romance! It's just too much!" His antics pulled more laughter from the surrounding students.

Lily, her green eyes sparkling with mischief, leaned into Remus, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. "Think it's time they get a taste of their own medicine?" Remus, his lips twitching in amusement, nodded conspiratorially.

With a silent countdown between them, the duo sprang into action. As they pushed James and Sirius, the two pranksters were so caught up in their own teasing they didn't see it coming. The sudden shove sent them both sprawling through the portrait hole, their surprised yelps echoing in the corridor.

Amidst the laughter that followed, Remus raised an eyebrow and smirked. "That should keep them quiet... at least for a moment or two."

Lily, glancing back at the portrait before stepping inside and gently poking Sirius and James in the ribs with her foot “C’mon, get a move on.”  She then turned to Rylie and Evan with a playful wink. "Ignore them; they're just jealous." 

Both Rylie and Evan, faces flushed a light shade of red from the teasing, smiled sheepishly. "Thanks, Lils," Rylie responded, taking it all in stride.

The group entered the common room, and finally in the midst of all the laughter and teasing, Rylie and Evan found a quiet moment to themselves near the portrait hole. The warm glow from the hearth provided just enough light to silhouette Evan's figure. 

"Goodnight, Evan," Rylie whispered, giving him a tender kiss.

As they parted, Evan reached out, gently tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. The weight of the day's events seemed to make his usually confident voice tremble. "Rylie," he began, his eyes locked onto hers, "I love you. More than I've ever loved anyone. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Rylie's heart began to race, her mind trying to keep up with the sudden shift. "Evan, what—"

Before she could finish her thought, Evan slowly dropped to one knee, looking up at her with the most sincere expression she'd ever seen. "I know this might seem sudden," he started, "and I'm sorry I don't have a ring yet. But after everything today, seeing my parents and then the meeting with the Order... it just made me realize how short life can be. I don't want to wait another day to ask you... Will you marry me, Rylie?"

Time seemed to stand still. Every second felt like an eternity as Rylie processed the weight of the moment. The common room, once filled with banter and laughter behind the portrait, fell silent. Their portrait of the Fat Lady had been swung back open and just inside, practically the entire house was shoved into the entrance way, the sounds of their peers — their friends — the scuffling, hushed whispers, and even the barely contained excitement from James and Sirius, only heightened the intensity.

In those few heartbeats, memories of their time together flashed through her mind. Their stolen glances during classes, midnight talks, and shared adventures in the magical and sometimes dangerous world of Hogwarts. The depth of their connection, built on trust, laughter, and shared experiences, was undeniable.

Rylie looked down at Evan, his hopeful eyes glistening in the dim light, filled with vulnerability and anticipation. Overwhelmed with emotion, a tear rolled down her cheek as she softly whispered, "Yes, Evan. Yes."

The eruption of cheers echoed in the stairwell. James and Sirius, unable to contain their excitement any longer, jumped forward, tackling both Rylie and Evan into a group hug, while Lily and Remus laughed and clapped. The atmosphere was electric with joy, happiness, and the thrill of a future yet to be written.

Evan stood up, pulling Rylie close, and the two shared a deep, heartfelt kiss, the trials and tribulations of the day melting away, replaced with the promise of a shared future.

Evan's face was flushed, his expression a mixture of relief, joy, and lingering disbelief. "I was so nervous," he admitted, brushing his fingers over the back of Rylie's hand, tracing delicate patterns. "But after today, I just... I knew I didn't want to waste another moment without you by my side."

Rylie chuckled softly, her face still warm from the unexpected proposal and the raucous celebration that followed. "You could've given a girl a little warning, you know," she teased, nudging him gently.

The playful banter continued as friends gathered around the newly engaged couple, offering congratulations and occasionally playful jabs. James, with his trademark mischief, whispered something about planning a 'legendary' bachelor party to Evan, eliciting a hearty laugh.

Remus, ever the thoughtful one, offered a soft smile to Rylie. "Today's been quite the emotional rollercoaster. How are you holding up?"

She considered the question for a moment, her thoughts swirling. "It's been... overwhelming, to say the least. But I'm grateful. For Evan, for our friends... for this family we've created here at Hogwarts."

Evan was invited into the Gryffindor Common room where the evening wore on, filled with laughter, stories, and plans for the future. Yet, amid the jubilation, a sense of unity prevailed. The challenges ahead were numerous and daunting, but for now, they celebrated love, hope, and the bonds they'd forged.

Eventually, exhaustion from the day's events took its toll. Students began to retire to their dormitories, leaving Rylie and Evan in the now quiet common room. The embers in the fireplace flickered, casting a gentle glow around them.

Rylie nestled into Evan's embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The weight of his earlier words settled on her, the profoundness of their shared commitment. "You know," she murmured, "today might've been one of the most intense days of our lives."

Evan chuckled, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. "Seems to be a recurring theme for us. But remember, no matter how intense or challenging, we'll face it together."

Evan's eyes held a depth of warmth and emotion as he looked down at Rylie. Their shared adventures, challenges, and now this profound commitment created a bond that was palpable. "It's funny," he said, a thoughtful expression crossing his face, "how life throws curveballs at us, but they always seem a little less daunting when you're by my side."

Rylie's heart fluttered, realizing that despite the chaos of the day, she felt grounded and safe with Evan. She responded, "You have this remarkable ability to make even the wildest of days feel like an adventure, not a challenge."

His thumb traced a gentle arc along the back of her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. "As long as I have you, I think I can handle anything."

A soft chuckle escaped her lips as she retorted playfully, "Bold words, Evan. But remember, you're the one who decided to propose in front of the entire Gryffindor house."

He grinned sheepishly, "A spur-of-the-moment decision. Admittedly, not my most well-thought-out plan, but it felt right."

Rylie leaned into him, their foreheads touching, their breaths syncing. "It was perfect, just like us."

Evan's smile was all the answer she needed. Pulling back slightly, Rylie took a step towards the portrait hole, indicating it was time for him to head back to Slytherin's dungeons. With a final, lingering kiss, she whispered, "Goodnight, Evan. See you tomorrow."

His voice held a note of promise as he replied, "Always and forever, Rylie." And with a soft, affectionate squeeze of her hand, he stepped through the portrait hole, leaving Rylie with the comforting afterglow of love and the memories of a day she'd never forget.

Descending the staircase from the Gryffindor tower, Evan's footsteps were muffled by the thick, emerald carpeting as he approached the dungeon's entrance, near the entrance to the Slytherin common room. The torchlit walls flickered, casting long shadows that danced eerily on the stone.

Suddenly, one of the shadows shifted, becoming more solid, and a voice dripping with disdain sliced through the stillness. “You did it, didn’t you?” Adrian's voice was unmistakable, and his figure emerged from a hidden alcove.

Evan's heart raced, fatigue and frustration compounding. The last thing he needed was another confrontation, especially with Adrian. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Evan responded tersely, keeping his eyes ahead and attempting to side-step his persistent rival.

Adrian moved to block his path. “Michael’s gone, and now you’re cozying up to the Gryffindors and the mudbloods. Betraying your own blood, Rosier?”

Evan felt a mix of anger and exasperation boil up inside him. His jaw tightened as he met Adrian’s gaze, his eyes burning with intensity. “Shut up, Adrian,” he spat out, his voice a low growl. Not wanting to indulge Adrian's provocations, Evan continued his walk, shoulder checking Adrian, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the corridor.

Adrian, desperate to regain control, raised his wand. “You did!” he yelled, sending a dangerous hex at Evan. But Evan, fueled by a protective rage that seemed almost supernatural, was faster. His shield charm not only deflected Adrian's hex but magnified its intensity. Adrian was thrown back violently, slamming into the cold stone wall. As he struggled to his feet, boils, red and angry, began to cover his face, each one pulsating with pain.

Evan advanced, his very presence suffocating the space. The energy in the corridor grew heavy with anticipation. “Stay. The. Fuck. Away. From Rylie and Me,” he hissed, his voice dripping with a venom that made Adrian's blood run cold. He pressed the icy tip of his wand to the hollow of Adrian's throat, making him choke on his own fear as the wand dug into his skin. 

“You think your little hexes scare me?” Evan's voice was low, a dangerous rumble that echoed ominously. “Threaten her again, and I will show you depths of pain you can't even imagine.”

Adrian, for all his bravado, was visibly trembling. His eyes darted around, looking for an escape or an ally. But the corridor remained empty save for their confrontation.

Darius's appearance was like a sharp inhale of breath. His eyes widened at the scene before him. He took in Adrian's petrified form, the malicious boils, and Evan's intense, darkened eyes.

“Evan!” he snapped, breaking the trance. “Enough!”

But Evan wasn’t done. Leaning in, mere inches from Adrian's face, he whispered, so only Adrian could hear, “If you ever think of laying a finger on her, or even speaking ill of her, I promise you, Michael's fate will seem merciful compared to what I'll do to you.”

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Grabbing Evan by his right arm, Darius yanked him to his feet, pulling him away from Adrian.

Evan's face was flushed with anger, his chest rising and falling rapidly. With a sudden, aggressive motion, he pointed his wand menacingly at Adrian. "Ask him! That’s his hex on his face that I was able to deflect.” he hissed, every word dripping with venom. Adrian, his robes askew and his pride wounded, was slowly pushing himself upright. Although the earlier confrontation had visibly shaken him, there was still a defiant fire in his eyes.

Caught between the two, Darius instinctively reached for his wand but hesitated. As his sharp eyes roamed over Adrian, they momentarily focused on a pulsating boil on the Slytherin's cheek. Adrian's voice, quivering with a blend of rage and trepidation, broke the thick tension in the corridor. "He wiped Michael's memory!" he accused, directing a finger towards Evan.

Darius, a frown creasing his brow, glanced from one to the other, trying to piece together the fragmented story. Taking a moment to assess the gravity of the situation, he finally spoke, his voice cool and measured. "It seems," he mused, spinning his wand with a dexterity that contrasted with the heavy atmosphere, "that we're at an impasse of sorts." The look in his eyes gave away nothing of his intentions, making the next move all the more unpredictable.

The cold stone corridor was drenched in tension. Evan's gaze flitted between Darius and Adrian, a dark and sardonic smile tugging at his lips. There was something almost feral in his eyes - a raw, unbridled intensity that whispered of a threat barely contained. 

Adrian, feeling the pressure of the situation, and the danger emanating from Evan, had a dawning realization settle in his eyes: he was cornered. The cold fingers of fear gripped his heart, and without any display of bravado, he pivoted and sprinted away, the sound of his hurried footsteps echoing hauntingly in the otherwise silent corridor.

The atmosphere shifted instantly. Darius, leaning into the moment, erupted in boisterous laughter, clapping Evan solidly on the back. "Holy shit, Evan!" he gasped, catching his breath. "I've never seen that side of you before! You're bloody terrifying when you want to be!" His eyes sparkled with a combination of mirth and admiration.

Evan's response was a shaky chuckle, the gravity of what he'd just done seeping into his bones. He hesitated for a moment, staring at the spot where Adrian had disappeared. The corridor's torchlight reflected off his troubled eyes, revealing the inner conflict bubbling just below the surface. "Yeah," he murmured, swallowing hard and avoiding Darius's inquiring gaze. "Let's just... let's go." He began to move away, eager to leave behind the corridor and the dark reflection of himself that it held.

Chapter Text

The shadows played tricks on the walls of the corridor, but none darker than the thoughts swirling inside Evan's mind. As the echo of Adrian's retreat faded, Evan tried to process what had just transpired. The weight of his own potential for darkness, stemming from his parentage, pressed down on him.

His chuckle was weak, brittle, like a thin pane of glass on the verge of shattering. Every inch of him wanted to dissociate from the event, to put as much distance between himself and that version of him that he never wanted to admit existed. 

Darius's worried eyes searched Evan's face, sensing the internal battle raging inside his friend. "Evan," he began, voice soft with concern, "it doesn’t define you. Remember that."

But Evan could hardly hear him over the cacophony in his head. Memories of whispered conversations about his parents, of hushed warnings and pitied glances, came rushing back. Could he ever escape that legacy? Was there, as he had always feared deep down, a piece of him forever tainted by their choices?

Pulling himself together with a visible effort, Evan nodded. "I know," he whispered, though his voice lacked conviction. "But sometimes I wonder..."

Darius stepped forward, placing a hand on Evan's shoulder. "We all have darkness in us, mate. It's what we choose to do with it that matters."

Evan's gaze lingered on the spot where Adrian had been, the dark temptations and his actions a fresh wound on his conscience. Taking a deep breath, he nodded. "Let's go." And with that, the two walked away, each step a move towards a future Evan hoped could be free from the shackles of his past.

~*~

The stone walls of Hogwarts, with all their secrets and ancient memories, had seen many generations of students navigate their days. For Evan and Rylie, life had comfortably slipped into a routine amidst the looming NEWTs and the frenetic pace of the school year.

Gryffindor's Quidditch team, with Rylie's powerful strikes as a Beater and the antics of James and Sirius, gave everyone much to talk about. Their practices became legendary, sometimes for the sheer skill on display and sometimes for the dramatic crashes and narrow misses that had Madam Pomfrey tutting about safety. Their victories in matches were celebrated in the Great Hall with hearty feasts, and on the few occasions they lost, they did so with grace and promises of a comeback.

Despite the inter-house rivalry, especially during the Quidditch matches, Evan and Rylie always found their moments. In the Great Hall, during meal times, they defied house conventions by sitting together, lost in their world. However, on occasions when Evan's house obligations demanded his presence at the Slytherin table, they'd intentionally place themselves in spots where their eyes could easily meet, sharing silent conversations amidst the din.

Amidst the magical classes, flying bludgers, and house banter, Evan and Rylie dedicated time to their NEWTs preparations. Their shared academic endeavors created moments of levity and frustration. The library's hushed corridors often echoed their whispered debates or muted laughter when a particular spell went slightly askew.

The culmination of one of their year-long projects was the Wolfsbane potion they'd been paired to work on. The delicate brew was a labor of love and dedication, demanding precision and patience. Turning it in, alongside their detailed report, felt like crossing a milestone, one of many in their final year at Hogwarts.

As the days lengthened with the approach of summer, the two of them, with the weight of an entire school year behind them and the promise of a shared future, solidified their bond. It was a beautiful dance of young love intertwined with the complexities of magical education.

On one particular night, a cool evening breeze wafted through the corridors of Hogwarts as Evan took Rylie by the hand, leading her through the familiar twists and turns of the castle. When they emerged into the fresh evening air, they followed a familiar path, one that held cherished memories for the two of them. It was a path that led to the Black Lake, the site of their very first genuine interaction.

Rylie's steps faltered slightly as they approached a large tree by the lake's edge. Evan had transformed it with an enchantment, making it look as though thousands of lightning bugs had made it their home, casting a warm, twinkling glow around them. Underneath the canopy of the tree was a picnic setup, complete with soft blankets, an array of dishes, and a few floating candles that hovered gently above them, lending a soft luminescence to the scene.

She turned to Evan, her eyebrows raised and a smile slowly forming on her face. "Did you do all this?" she asked, gesturing to the twinkling tree and the spread beneath it.

He scratched the back of his neck, looking slightly embarrassed. "Yeah, I might have gone a bit overboard," he admitted with a soft grin.

As they settled on the blanket, Evan chuckled and said, "Alright, before you start raiding the food," he teased, extracting a small velvet box from his pocket. "I've got something for you."

When he opened it, the light from the enchanted tree glinted off a simple yet breathtaking ring and positioned himself on one knee. "It's not some ancient family heirloom or anything," he began, searching her eyes for a reaction. "But since I already popped the question once without this... I thought it'd be more official this way."

Rylie's voice caught in her throat, a mix of surprise and joy. "Evan..." was all she managed before she launched herself into his arms, the world around them fading away except for the heartbeat they now shared, amplified by the stillness of the Black Lake.

Rylie pulled back just enough to look into Evan's eyes. "This...everything here is just perfect," she whispered, touching the ring that sat nestled in the box.

Evan took a deep breath, his fingers brushing against hers as he took the ring out. "Rylie, we've been through a lot," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "We've faced prejudice, danger, and even questioned ourselves. But through it all, you've been my anchor. This ring," he held it up, letting the ambient light shimmer off it, "is a promise of all the tomorrows I want to spend with you."

He delicately slipped it onto her finger, and it fit perfectly. Rylie gazed at it, the enormity of the moment sinking in, her fingers trembling ever so slightly.

Tears spilled from her eyes, not of sadness, but of overwhelming joy. "Evan, I love you," she said, her voice a mere whisper, overwhelmed by the depth of her feelings.

He pulled her close, the warmth of their embrace melting away the night's chill. "I love you too," he replied, his voice soft yet certain. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, the world shrinking to just the two of them under the canopy of twinkling lights.

After a while, Evan broke the silence. "Hungry now?" he asked with a teasing grin, nodding towards the untouched picnic spread.

Rylie laughed, wiping away the residual tears. "Starving!" she exclaimed. The two of them settled down, enjoying the feast Evan had prepared, but more than the food, it was the company, the love they shared, that made the evening truly magical.

The soft lap of water against the bank and the gentle murmur of the forested surroundings made for a serene backdrop, but the conversation turned deep, echoing the uncertainty of the times they lived in.

Taking a deep breath, Evan broke the comfortable silence between them. "You ever think about life after Hogwarts?" he asked, his gaze fixed on the Black Lake, watching the patterns formed by moonlight on its rippled surface.

Rylie paused, her fingers idly circling the rim of her goblet, her expression growing distant. She sighed, "Always wanted to travel, you know? Not just vacations, but really see the world — the places we only read about in books or hear about in class. A break from all this magic and mystery." Her eyes shadowed over, "But with Voldemort and his followers on the rise, it feels like those dreams are becoming fantasies."

Evan's face tightened, concern evident. "I know what you mean. Every owl post that comes in, every whisper in the hallways... it’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop. I keep thinking, what if the next piece of news is about someone we love? Someone from our side?"

Rylie met his gaze, the moonlight illuminating the fear in her green eyes. "It's the not knowing that's the worst," she whispered. "Every day, wondering if today’s the day we get caught in the crossfire. It's one thing to worry about exams or Quidditch games, but this... it's different. It's life and death, Evan. And it scares the hell out of me."

The night's gentle breeze rustled the leaves above, carrying with it a melody of chirping crickets and distant nightingale songs. The silvery luminescence from the lake reflected on their faces as Evan's fingers intertwined with Rylie's, squeezing them gently, grounding them in the midst of their shared anxieties.

"Every time I close my eyes, I see a maze of possibilities," Evan admitted, his voice softer, introspective. "War, battles, darkness. But in each of them, there's this beacon. You." He let out a short, nervous chuckle. "Sounds sappy, I know. But it's true."

His gaze searched the horizon, settling on the distant silhouette of the Forbidden Forest. "When I think of the life I want to build, it doesn’t include that old Rosier mansion, with its long corridors and haunting memories. James told me about this peaceful spot in Godric’s Hollow, where he and Lily are thinking of settling down. It got me wondering... What if we started fresh there?"

The thought, despite the looming uncertainty, brought a small, hopeful smile to Rylie's lips. "With you? I can already imagine it — cozy nights by the fire, perhaps a little garden." She paused, the glint of mischief returning to her eyes. "But first, we're setting some ground rules, mister."

Raising an eyebrow, Evan smirked, "Go on..."

Evan raised an eyebrow, amusement evident on his face. "Oh? And what might these 'ground rules' be?"

Rylie smirked, counting off on her fingers. "First, no creepy Slytherin decor. Second, we share chores – I'm not going to be the only one wrestling a rebellious broom or a misbehaving teapot. And third, no matter what happens outside, our home is a safe space. No dragging in the day's worries. Agreed?"

Chuckling, Evan held up his hands in mock surrender. "Agreed, especially on that first one. I've had enough of snakes and green drapes for a lifetime." His laughter faded a bit as he added, "But that third one... It's important. With everything going on, we need a place where we can just... be. No war, no drama, just us."

Rylie leaned into Evan, resting her head on his shoulder. "Sounds perfect." She whispered, feeling a warmth amidst the chill of the evening.

For a while, they sat there in comfortable silence, allowing the serenity of the Black Lake to envelop them. The outside world – with its growing tensions and uncertainties – seemed distant, if only for that stolen moment.

After some time, Evan gently nudged her. "Come on. We should head back before Filch decides to make us his latest victims."

Rylie chuckled, "Or Mrs. Norris catches a whiff of us." She picked up the remnants of their picnic and packed them away neatly. As they began their walk back to the castle, hands entwined, there was a renewed sense of purpose in their strides — a quiet determination to face the future together, come what may.

Evan and Rylie were almost at the castle when three dark figures blocked their path. It was Adrian, and two other Slytherin students. They wore smug expressions, and it was evident they had planned the confrontation.

"Evening stroll, Rosier?" Adrian jeered, his gaze maliciously lingering on Rylie. "Or just proving once again where your true loyalties lie?"

Before Evan could respond, a series of loud barks echoed across the courtyard. A large black dog bounded toward them, fur raised and teeth bared. He growled menacingly, positioning himself defensively in front of Evan and Rylie.

One of the Slytherin students, in a panic, shot a hex toward Rylie. But with a fluid motion, she deflected it effortlessly, sending it ricocheting back towards him, causing him to stumble.

The dog lunged at one of the Slytherins as the unmistakable form of a majestic stag charged into the scene. With hooves pounding the ground, the stag took an aggressive stance, antlers lowered threateningly.

Adrian and his lackeys quickly realized they were outnumbered. Muttering curses under his breath, Adrian signaled a retreat, and the three Slytherins vanished into the shadows of the night.

As the immediate danger subsided, the dog trotted up to Rylie, tail wagging, giving her an expectant look, clearly hoping for affection. She laughed softly, scratching behind his ears. "Good boy, Padfoot," she murmured, her voice filled with gratitude. The stag nearby stomped a hoof impatiently, drawing her attention.

Evan stood there, eyes wide, taking in the scene. He hadn't connected the dots yet. The sight of two majestic animals, one wagging his tail for affection and the other being stoic yet protective, was not something he had expected. With a shimmering motion, the stag and dog began to transform, their forms shifting and reshaping until James and Sirius stood before them, panting slightly from the exertion.

James' grin widened, revealing a hint of mischief as he ran a hand through his already tousled hair, making it stand up even more. "Did we miss the fun or did you have it all covered?" he teased, glancing pointedly at the retreating figures of the Slytherins.

Sirius, panting slightly from the unexpected skirmish, and with his usual air of casual confidence, shot Evan a playful smirk. "You know, Rosier, if you had our skills, you might not get caught off guard so easily."

Evan blinked, clearly trying to process what had just happened. His gaze flitted between the two Marauders, the weight of realization settling in. "You two... you're animagi?" He finally managed, the shock evident in his voice.

With a theatrical bow, Sirius responded, his voice dripping with faux humility. "Guilty as charged, my friend. One of the many surprises we've got up our sleeves."

James did a quick scan of the grounds and then narrowed his eyes in confusion as he looked to Evan. "Evan, why the hell was Adrian coming after you? That looked way too personal to just be some rivalry."

Evan ran a hand through his hair, looking troubled. "Adrian's certain I obliviated Michael. I've been careful, not mentioning anyone else involved," he said, his eyes darting to Rylie for a split second, "but he's got it in his head that it's all on me."

Sirius' face twisted into an irritated scowl. "That's just Adrian's way, twisting things for his own benefit. He's always been a snake."

Rylie gripped Evan's hand tighter, a concerned look in her eyes. "We've heard whispers already. Hogwarts has a knack for letting rumors grow legs."

James, ever the voice of reason, chimed in, "We need to act. This isn't just about some schoolyard feud anymore. If Adrian has it in for you, there's no telling how far he might go."

Evan nodded, "I've already spoken to Dumbledore about Michael. He said they were telling the Slytherin house and Michael’s parents that Michael's condition was self-inflicted, as a way to protect us. But Adrian is not buying it.”

Sirius snorted. "As if he'd believe anything that doesn't fit his twisted narrative."

Evan shrugged. “I mean, he’s not wrong. We are at fault.”

Sirius gave Evan a flat look. “Because he needed to be stopped after all the shit he’s pulled and was going to continue to pull.” 

James looked thoughtful. "We need to get you out of the Slytherin common room, at least temporarily. If Dumbledore's aware of how volatile the situation is, he might offer an alternative place for you to stay."

Evan chuckled wryly. "Are you suggesting a Slytherin bunk in the Gryffindor dorms?"

James shrugged a shoulder. “Stranger things have happened” 

Sirius chimed in, "Like discovering your friends turn into dogs and stags in their free time."

Evan sighed in relief, "That'd help. I don't think I can manage another night there with Adrian breathing down my neck."

As they neared the entrance to the castle, Rylie squeezed Evan's hand reassuringly. "We'll figure this out, Evan.”

Evan gave her a grateful smile, wrapping an arm around her. "Thanks, Ry. I never imagined I'd be the one needing protection in Slytherin territory.”

Sirius, in a rare moment of sincerity, chimed in, "You've proven yourself, Evan. Slytherin or not, you're one of us now."

James added with a grin, "Plus, it might be fun to have a snake amongst the lions. Keep things spicy."

The group shared a chuckle, their camaraderie evident. Yet, as they entered the warmly lit hallways of the school, each one couldn't help but wonder how the dynamics at Hogwarts were shifting. Would old house rivalries truly dissolve, or would they only fester in new and more dangerous ways?

Upon reaching Gryffindor Tower, James pulled Evan aside. "Seriously, speak to Dumbledore. We'll accompany you if you want. You shouldn't be a sitting duck for Adrian and his lot. Safety first, alright?"

Evan nodded, feeling a lump in his throat. "Thank you, James. I'll talk to him first thing tomorrow. I think I’ll be crashing in the Room of Requirement tonight.” 

Rylie, catching the tail end of their conversation, chimed in with a playful smirk, "Well, in that case, I think I'll join you. Wouldn't want you getting lonely, would we?"

James gave them a sly wink, while Sirius, already halfway into the common room, made exaggerated whooping noises, causing a few heads to turn. 

"Just ignore him," James said, shaking his head with a grin. "But on a serious note, Evan, you're not alone in this. We've got your back."

Evan managed a smile, albeit a weary one. "I know. And I can't tell you how much that means to me." He took a deep breath. "Tomorrow, then. We talk to Dumbledore."

With a nod of agreement from James and a final affectionate squeeze of Rylie's hand, the group made their way into the warmth and comfort of the Gryffindor common room, but not without the weight of the evening's events still hanging heavily in the air.

“C’mon, let’s get some sleep.” Rylie said as she gave Evan’s hand a gentle tug as they made their way to the Room of Requirement.

“Do we have to sleep?” Evan said with a wink. A small chuckle escaped Rylie’s lips that made Evan’s heart skip a beat. He smiled and gave her hand a small tug to pull her closer to him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and kissing her temple. “I love you.” He whispered against her skin as they walked.

Rylie slipped an arm around his waist and smiled softly. “I love you, too.”

~*~

James and Sirius stepped into the Gryffindor Common Room, their moods dampened by the earlier encounter, though the jovial scene inside was an immediate lift. The fireplace crackled, lending warmth and a golden hue to the room, while students chatted, laughed, and studied, reveling in the comfort of their shared space.

Sirius' eyes instantly found Emmeline Vance, curled up on a sofa with a book in hand. In his typical, spirited manner, he made a beeline for her, all pretense of playing it cool abandoned. Before she could register his approach, he had launched himself at her, both of them tumbling into the cushions. As he peppered her face with eager kisses, she squealed in playful protest, laughter echoing around them.

Across the room, James approached Lily, whose red hair was lit aglow by the fireplace. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her slender frame, pulling her close and planting a gentle kiss on her forehead, a stark contrast to Sirius' playful antics.

Nearby, Remus sat beside Alice Fortescue. The two were engrossed in separate books, yet their hands were intertwined, fingers laced together in silent companionship.

Noticing the slight crease on James' forehead, Lily tilted her head up, green eyes searching his. "What's wrong, James?" she asked softly, concern evident in her voice. She knew the look almost too well now. 

James took a moment, gathering his thoughts, before replying, "It's about Evan and Rylie."

At this, Remus glanced up from his book, his amber eyes focused intently on James. Alice, sensing the shift in mood, gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

Sirius, too, ceased his antics, his expression turning serious as he sat up, drawing Emmeline closer. "Adrian tried to corner them at the Black Lake earlier," he filled in, his voice edged with a protective fury.

Lily's face drained of color. "Merlin! Are they alright?"

James nodded, pressing his lips into a tight line. "They’re shaken, but okay. We managed to get there just in time."

Remus sighed heavily. "This is getting out of hand. It's one thing for them to be suspicious, but attacking him is a whole new level."

Lily bit her lip, her mind racing. "We need to do something. We can't let this continue. And if Dumbledore's been telling people that Michael's spell was self-inflicted to protect us..."

Sirius interjected, "It's making Evan a bigger target. I can't believe he took the fall alone."

James' grip on Lily tightened. "We meet with Dumbledore tomorrow. We figure this out."

James, taking a moment from holding Lily, glanced around at his friends and said, "The Room of Requirement, while a brilliant idea, is just a stopgap. We need something more solid. What if Evan stayed here, with us in Gryffindor Tower, at least until the year ends?"

Sirius, pulling away from a giggling Emmeline, looked surprised. "Are you suggesting we smuggle a Slytherin into Gryffindor? That's bold, even for you, Prongs."

Lily looked skeptical, "Do you think the others would be okay with it? And what about McGonagall?"

Remus responded, "If we explain the situation, and given Dumbledore's knowledge of the truth, I think they'd understand. We can't let one of ours face this danger alone."

Emmeline nodded. "Evan's risked a lot for all of us. We owe it to him to make sure he's safe."

Sirius, his mood serious for once, added, "Adrian's vendetta has now turned dangerous. Evan shouldn't be walking around with a target on his back, especially not within school grounds."

Peter piped up, "It'll be like a sleepover! Every night!"

Lily smirked, "Well, I wouldn't phrase it quite like that, Peter, but yes, it'd be like having an extended guest."

Remus added, "The primary focus now should be to ensure Evan's safety. After that, we can devise a strategy on dealing with Adrian."

James, with determination in his eyes, said, "Alright then. Tomorrow, first thing after breakfast, we're meeting with Dumbledore. We'll put forth our plan, and by nightfall, hopefully, Evan will be safely bunked here with us."

~*~

The stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office stepped aside after James pronounced the password, "Lemon Drop." The group of Gryffindors ascended the spiral staircase, their collective determination evident in their steps.

Dumbledore, waiting in his high-backed chair behind his cluttered desk, motioned for them to take a seat. "I've been expecting you," he said calmly, his blue eyes twinkling with that familiar yet unfathomable depth. "You've come about young Evan, I presume?"

James nodded. "Yes, sir. Given the circumstances, we believe it's no longer safe for Evan to stay in the Slytherin house. We propose he stays in Gryffindor Tower with us for the rest of the term."

Before Dumbledore could reply, Sirius interjected, "We know it's unconventional, but it’s not safe for him. Adrian could do something to him while he sleeps."

Dumbledore steepled his fingers, looking pensive. "I understand your concerns and appreciate the unity you all display. On a related note, I've decided that Adrian will be temporarily removed from Hogwarts due to his aggressive actions on the school grounds."

James and Sirius exchanged glances, the weight of the headmaster's decision evident in their faces. Sirius, ever the skeptic, asked, "Wouldn't Adrian's removal only incite further retaliation against Evan?"

Dumbledore's eyes hardened slightly. "It's a risk, yes. But I cannot and will not allow unchecked aggression within these walls. Adrian's removal serves as a deterrent to others who may harbor similar intentions."

James sighed, "It's just... if they think Evan played a role in getting Adrian expelled, it could make him an even bigger target."

Lily, her voice unwavering, added, "Evan is already bearing the brunt of this alone. We need to ensure his safety."

Dumbledore nodded. "I understand your concerns. As for Evan, I will allow his stay in Gryffindor Tower for the rest of the term. But be prepared, the decision will raise questions, and whispers will spread. However, your unity will be your strength."

Gratitude was evident in each student's face as they rose, ready to face the challenges ahead, their bond stronger than ever.

~*~

Sunlight streamed through the red velvet drapes, dappling the wooden floor with golden spots. The air smelled faintly of old parchment, wax, and a hint of the magical sweets from Honeydukes. The room was now dominated by five four-poster beds, all of them draped in scarlet and gold hangings with the Hogwarts crest on them. Up until now, there had been only four, but a new, fifth bed had been squeezed in for Evan.

Sirius was sprawled out on his bed, a copy of "Witch Weekly" discreetly hidden behind "Advanced Potion Making", a smirk on his face as he tried to peek at the newest list of enchanting witches. James was fiddling with his prized broomstick, the latest Nimbus model, every so often levitating it a few inches off the ground before catching it again. Remus was at his desk, organizing his notes, while Peter was engrossed in a letter from home, munching on a Chocolate Frog, one of its legs twitching after he took a bite of its head.

Evan, clutching a cardboard box filled to the brim with personal belongings, hesitated at the threshold of the room. The sides of the box were adorned with hastily drawn magical symbols to prevent spillage and breakage. From the corner peeked out a familiar quill and there was the distinct hum of a magical item, perhaps his Sneakoscope. He shifted the weight from one hand to the other, clearing his throat. "So... this is it?" he inquired, uncertainty creeping into his tone as he scanned the room with its warm scarlet and gold decor.

James, whose hair was even more tousled than usual, looked up from where he was trying to balance his broomstick on his fingertip. He flashed a signature mischievous grin, motioning to the newly added bed nestled snugly between his and Sirius'. "Welcome to the Lions’ Den!" He beamed, patting the freshly made mattress next to him. "Got this one specially for you. Best views of the Quidditch pitch from here."

Sirius, lounging on his own bed, slowly lowered the "Witch Weekly" magazine (which was clearly not his, judging by the secretive glint in his eyes) to shoot Evan a playful glance. "I've got to say, Evan," he drawled with mock gravity, letting his gaze rest on the new Gryffindor emblem adorning Evan's robes, "Never had you pegged for our house." A teasing wink followed, and his smirk grew wider. "Though I must admit, you being here will definitely make things a lot more interesting. Always room for one more in the mischief brigade!"

Remus, surrounded by stacks of parchment and an open book, glanced up from his meticulously organized desk as Evan entered. His usual calm and studious demeanor brightened into a warm smile, the amber flecks in his hazel eyes catching the lantern light. Pushing his chair back, he stood, stretching out his somewhat weary hand in a gesture of genuine camaraderie. "Welcome to our humble abode, Evan. If you need any help sorting out your things or finding a spot for them, just give me a shout," he offered, a hint of amusement touching the corner of his lips as he surveyed Evan's overflowing box.

Peter, meanwhile, was sprawled out on his bed, seemingly engrossed in a collection of Chocolate Frogs and their accompanying trading cards. He managed to pause mid-bite, cheeks bulging, to offer his own piece of wisdom. After swallowing with an exaggerated effort, he said, "Glad to have you with us. But a word to the wise? Keep an eye out for Sirius and his never-ending bag of tricks. He’s absolutely relentless, especially with newbies." 

Sirius, unable to resist the spotlight, mock-gasped and pressed a hand to his heart, feigning the deepest offense. His blue eyes twinkled mischievously under the canopy of his dark, messy hair. "Me?" he drawled, glancing around as if searching for another Sirius in the room, "I'm the very picture of innocence, a veritable angel!" His dramatics were underscored by James' snort of laughter from the corner.

Evan's eyes scanned the room, taking in the banners, posters, and various artifacts that adorned the walls of the Gryffindor dormitory. Setting his box on the pristine duvet of his new bed, he let out a soft chuckle. The atmosphere was warm, almost tangibly electric with camaraderie and youthful energy. "Thanks for the warm welcome, guys," he admitted, running a hand through his slightly tousled hair. "Everything here feels so... new and yet oddly comforting. Different, but in a good way."

James, leaning back in his chair with a casual air, flashed his signature grin, his hazel eyes sparkling with anticipation. "It's all about making memories, mate," he declared, the lightness of his tone belied by the sincere glint in his eyes. "And let me tell you, with this motley crew?" He gestured to the roommates with a flourish. "You'll never experience a dull moment. There'll be laughter, pranks, late-night conversations, and probably a few flying pillows."

Remus, with a mock exasperated look and a slight smirk, added, "That’s a rather diplomatic way to put it, James." He then winked at Evan. "Welcome to the chaos."

~*~

The room was suffused with a soft glow from the lamps, casting a muted light on the four girls sitting in their dorm room. There was a weight to the air, a mix of tension and contemplation that only the shifting political landscape outside the castle walls could bring.

Lily, Emmeline, and Alice sat cross-legged on the floor, their attention focused on Rylie. Rylie held out her hand, revealing the delicate ring Evan had given her just the night before.

Lily tilted her head, examining the ring with an appreciative eye. "It's beautiful, Rylie," she said quietly. "A ray of light in these dark times."

Alice gently touched the band, tracing the intricate design. "I'm glad he was finally able to give it to you.” 

Emmeline raised an eyebrow, trying to lighten the mood slightly. "So, how's life now that Evan's officially in Gryffindor territory? Must be strange."

Rylie traced the delicate design of her new ring, her thoughts evidently miles away. "It’s nice being able to see him more.” She said with a soft smile touching her lips, though she couldn't help but feel awful for the reasoning as she looked down at the small ring on her finger. It was his love for her that caused his house to turn against him and put him in danger. 

Lily's green eyes were filled with understanding as she directed her question towards Alice. The war had a way of making personal relationships both achingly vital and yet incredibly fragile. "And you and Remus?" she asked, her voice gentle and encouraging.

Alice paused for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. "It's not easy," she began, choosing her words carefully. "The challenges we face every day... It's made us reconsider where we stand. We've chosen to just remain friends.” She said her voice trailing and not really wanting to discuss it. She thought back to the other night where Remus and her had a long discussion about their relationship and how Remus didn’t want Alice to be burdened by him because of his lycanthropy. 

Seeking to lift the somber mood, Alice's eyes twinkled with mischief as she shifted her gaze towards Emmeline. "Speaking of relationships, how's the rollercoaster with Sirius? And now with the added twist of Evan bunking with them?"

Emmeline chuckled, her eyes lighting up. "Dating Sirius is something else. He's always full of surprises, and I never quite know what he's going to do next. And the things that go on in that dorm... I swear they're up to something new every night."

Rylie smiled gently, "I'm glad you're with him. He needs someone who can keep up his antics."

Lily leaned into Rylie, giving her a comforting squeeze. "It's good to focus on the happy moments, Ry. They're what get us through the tough times."

Touching the ring on her finger, Rylie looked distant for a moment, lost in the memories and promises it represented.

~*~

The golden embers of the fire crackled and danced, casting warm, flickering light over the Gryffindor common room. After a grueling day of studying and class reviews in preparation for their NEWTs, Evan and Rylie had found a quiet corner, settling on the large, plush red sofa. The two of them were engrossed in their final Charms paper, quills moving furiously across parchment, occasionally pausing for a quick consultation or to cross-check notes.

Though they were in their own little world, the rest of the common room was abuzz. Evan's presence in the heart of Gryffindor territory was something the younger students weren't used to, and it had certainly caused a stir. Whispers and sneaky glances were directed their way, and a handful of curious younger students had even gathered at a safe distance to observe the unexpected visitor.

However, James, with his Head Boy badge gleaming prominently on his chest, was having none of it. With an authoritative stride, he made his way to a group of second years, his expression stern. Whatever he whispered to them seemed to have the desired effect; the whispers grew quieter, and the younger students soon found other distractions.

Rylie glanced up from her work, offering James a grateful smile. "Thanks, James," she mouthed silently. He responded with a wink and a thumbs-up before returning to his own group.

With the common room slowly returning to its usual, albeit slightly more subdued, state, Rylie and Evan resumed their focus on their work, their bond and mutual respect evident in the easy way they collaborated, undeterred by the day's events. The evening deepened, the amber glow from the fireplace casting long, dancing shadows across the room. The common room had quieted down, with most students retreating to their dormitories to catch some rest before another grueling day of NEWT preparations.

Sirius, lounging comfortably on a nearby sofa, cast an amused glance at Evan. The glint of the fireplace reflected off his mischievous eyes as he observed, “You seem to have acquired quite the fan club.” His voice held a hint of playful sarcasm, and he gestured with his chin towards the dwindling number of students exiting the common room. Their stares were an odd concoction of intrigue and skepticism, clearly not used to Evan's newfound presence among them.

Evan's expression remained stoic, his fingers nimbly rolling the parchment before sliding it into his worn-out bag. “Can't say I’m surprised,” he replied with a wry smile, though his voice lacked its usual playfulness. “Ever since that incident, the whispers have been... inescapable.” The words seemed to catch in his throat as he firmly zipped up the bag, sealing away his academic endeavors for the night.

A shadow of concern crossed Rylie's face as she picked up on Evan's subtle signs of distress. The gentle touch of her fingers on his forearm was her way of offering silent support, a reminder that he wasn't alone in this.

Sirius’s playful demeanor shifted, his brow furrowing slightly as he flung his boots onto the table, clearly not bothering about any house rules. “Just remember, mate, it's only a few more weeks and then this place, with all its prying eyes, will be in our rearview.”

Evan smirked bitterly, leaning into the plush cushions of the sofa. “Until, of course, we bump into them on some battlefield,” he remarked. His statement hung heavily in the air, a stark reminder of the looming conflict outside the stone walls of their sanctuary. The laughter and lightness of their school days were rapidly being overshadowed by the encroaching reality of war.

The tension in the common room was palpable. The once inviting warmth of the fire felt less comforting when juxtaposed against Evan's dark remarks. James, sitting in an armchair nearby with a half-written essay in front of him, glanced up, concern evident in his hazel eyes.

Emmeline, stepping into the common room after a long study session, noticed the heavy atmosphere immediately. She moved swiftly, joining Sirius on the neighboring sofa. Without missing a beat, he pulled her into his lap, wrapping an arm securely around her waist and planting a kiss on her cheek.

Lily bit her lip and began to speak, trying to redirect the conversation. “Let’s keep our focus on the present, shall we? I mean, we've still got NEWTs to tackle, and I'd rather dive into the mysteries of Ancient Runes than ponder on our uncertain futures.”

Sirius smirked, his silver eyes twinkling with mischief. "Honestly, Evans, only you could make Ancient Runes sound appealing."

The reality of Evan’s words hit Rylie hard as Lily continued to talk in the background. She watched the play of emotions across his face, the juxtaposition of past and impending pain. Knowing him as she did, she sensed the tug-of-war inside him between past familial mistakes and the daunting uncertainty of their future.

"We'll find our way through," she whispered to him, a promise not only to Evan but to their entire circle. They would navigate the coming challenges as one. The bond they'd formed over the years would be their anchor. 

As Evan's breathing steadied beside her, Rylie took comfort in that thought as she turned her attention back to the group where she saw Lily raised an eyebrow, playfully challenging. "Better than the number of detentions you've racked up this term alone, Black."

Sirius feigned shock, his other hand dramatically placed over his heart. "Low blow, Lily, low blow."

Evan, trying to get into the playful spirit, chimed in, "You know, between Lily's obsession with Ancient Runes and Sirius's detentions, I'm starting to feel a bit ordinary here."

James snorted, "Evan, there's nothing ordinary about you, mate."

Emmeline laughed softly against Sirius's shoulder, her presence offering him a bit of solace. Rylie, appreciating Lily’s efforts, gave her friend a small smile, a silent thank you for attempting to lighten the mood.

James, leaning forward, added with a grin, “If we make it through these exams, we should definitely have a grand celebration. One for the books.”

Nods of agreement went around, and for a while, the impending weight of the future was momentarily forgotten in the warmth of friendship and the flickering firelight of the Gryffindor common room.

~*~

The sun broke through the high windows of the Great Hall, signaling the start of a new day at Hogwarts. Tables were laden with breakfast delicacies, the smell of freshly baked bread, crisp bacon, and fruity preserves wafting through the hall. Students milled about, some still half asleep, others eagerly discussing their plans for the day.

Evan, now somewhat accustomed to the curious glances and whispers, walked in alongside Rylie, both holding hands. Their bond had grown stronger in the face of adversity, becoming an anchor for each other. James, Sirius, and Emmeline were already at the Gryffindor table, saving spots for the couple.

Lily joined them shortly, her nose buried in a book, likely some last-minute revision for their upcoming exams. "Morning," she mumbled, without looking up, reaching for a slice of toast.

Sirius, who had Emmeline perched comfortably on his lap, teased, "You do realize it's breakfast and not a library session, right?"

She shot him a withering look but couldn't suppress a smile. "Some of us actually care about our NEWTs."

James, buttering a scone, laughed. "If studying equated to Quidditch, Sirius would've been top of our year."

The laughter rippled through the group, and for a moment, the weight of the impending war and the challenges they faced seemed a bit lighter.

"So, what's everyone's grand plan after all this?" Emmeline asked, sipping her tea and glancing around the table.

James grabbed a handful of grapes, popping one into his mouth. "Once we're out of here, I think I'll focus on the Order full-time," he mused. "I've got enough from my family to support Lily and me... and perhaps a tiny Potter on the way," he added with a mischievous wink.

Lily, engrossed in her book, only hummed in agreement, her focus stuck in her notes, causing a few around the table to chuckle.

Sirius, reaching for a piece of toast, chimed in. "Think I might try out for the Aurors as well. Should be fun, chasing dark wizards and all."

Peter, with a mock-dramatic sigh, commented, "I'll probably just end up working in a bookshop or something. Seems peaceful."

James snorted, tossing a piece of toast at Peter playfully. "A bookshop? Come off it, Pete. We'll need you in the Order, and you know it."

Peter frowned and shrugged a shoulder as he stabbed a potato. “It’d at least be safer..” he muttered to himself.

Remus, pushing his food around his plate, looked somewhat forlorn. "I doubt anyone's offering jobs to werewolves anytime soon."

James shot him a look, nudging him gently with his elbow. "You've got me, Moony. Always have."

Remus gave a small smile, grateful for James's unwavering loyalty. “James, you know how I feel about-” but James had already raised his hand, not wanting to hear another word. He was grateful James was ready to financially support him, but the guilt was troubling. 

Rylie, taking a deep breath, announced, "I've also been considering the Aurors."

Evan, in the midst of sipping his juice, choked on his drink, his eyes widening in surprise. Once he caught his breath, he said, "Ry, if you want to hold off for a bit... I've got enough saved up to support us both. The Aurors are dangerous."

She fixed him with a stern gaze. "And the Order isn't? It's no less perilous."

Evan opened his mouth to retort, then closed it, realizing he was at an impasse. The table was silent for a moment, the weight of their choices and the looming war palpable. They were all grappling with their futures, trying to find the best path amidst the chaos.

After a moment, Emmeline decided to break the silence. "Well," she began, looking around at her friends, "no matter where we end up or what we choose to do, we can't forget the bonds we've built here at Hogwarts. This," she gestured around the table, "this is family."

Lily, taking a break from her reading, added with a slight smile, "And families stick together, no matter what. Right?" There were nods of agreement all around.

Sirius leaned into Emmeline, a smirk on his face. "Does that mean I can crash at your place if I accidentally blow up mine?"

She laughed, giving him a playful shove. "Only if you promise not to prank the neighbors." she leaned in and gave Sirius a soft kiss. 

Peter chuckled, "Speaking of pranks, I've still got that box of Peruvian Darkness Powder. Fancy giving the Slytherins a memorable send-off?"

James shifted in his seat, shooting Peter a side glance. "After the years we've been here, Pete, I'm surprised you've managed to keep hold of that."

Peter shrugged with an impish grin, "Had to save it for a special occasion. And what better than our last hurrah?"

Evan, despite his earlier reservations, let out a small chuckle. "As tempting as that sounds, remember, they have their means of retaliation. Last thing we need is to start our post-Hogwarts life with bat bogey hexes."

Rylie raised an eyebrow, her gaze shifting between the two. "It's a tempting offer, but I'd rather not get on the bad side of anyone more than I already have. Especially with our futures hanging in the balance."

Remus, his fingers drumming against the table, chimed in. "Peter, maybe use that powder for a more... noble cause. We might need it in the Order."

Emmeline smirked, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I never thought I'd hear the day where 'noble causes' and 'Peruvian Darkness Powder' were in the same sentence. But, given where we're heading, it's probably best to keep our pranks contained."

Sirius, his arm draped around Emmeline, gave her a sly smile. "Containment has never been my strong suit. But for you," he teased, poking her side, "I might consider it."

Remus took a moment, a smirk forming on his lips as he recalled the memory. "We did promise McGonagall no more mischief, particularly after she nearly took flight during the... let's call it the 'aerial furniture display'."

Sirius leaned back, stretching his arms out with a proud grin. "It was a masterpiece of magical mischief. I still stand by my belief that deep down, beneath all that stern exterior, McGonagall got a kick out of it."

Lily leaned forward, her green eyes dancing with mirth. "Sirius, she spent an hour – a full hour – running after her levitating desk that seemed hell-bent on joining the Quidditch match in progress. It was chaos."

Rylie, trying to suppress her own laughter, chimed in, "You have to admit, the sight of her trying to coax her desk down from the Quidditch goal post was pretty entertaining. Maybe there was a small part of her that appreciated the... creativity? But honestly, we're walking a fine line with her patience."

Evan, eyebrows raised in intrigue, leaned closer to the group. "Floating furniture? I've heard of some of your pranks, but that one slipped past me. How did you even manage that?"

James, a gleam of pride in his eyes, leaned back with a grin. "A combination of innovative spellwork and a few, let's say, 'custom modifications'. It's up there with our top pranks."

Emmeline shook her head, amusement evident in her expression. "Oh, you should've seen it, Evan. Not only were desks and chairs floating around, but Filch's meticulously organized broom closet had its contents parading down the main corridor like it was some enchanted Mardi Gras. The look on his face when he saw his mop twirling like a ballerina? Absolutely unforgettable."

Sirius, reminiscing about their escapades, gently tugged Emmeline to him. "That particular day was a masterpiece," he mused, drawing her in and letting his cheek rest atop her head, savoring the familiar scent of her hair.

James, crossing his arms behind his head, exhaled a deep breath, the weight of their impending responsibilities evident in his eyes. "We've made our fair share of mischief and memories. But Hogwarts is just a chapter. Beyond these walls, there's a storm brewing, and our priorities have to shift."

Remus met James's gaze with a stern expression. "We've got a mission ahead with the Order. With Voldemort gaining strength, it won't be long before we're on the front lines."

The stillness in the room was palpable, each of them lost in their thoughts. The past year's pranks and camaraderie seemed such a stark contrast to the daunting reality that awaited them. With the last vestiges of their school days approaching, they understood the war outside wouldn't spare them its horrors.

Rylie’s fork clinked against her plate, drawing a few gazes as she punctured a hashbrown. Her voice was but a murmur, yet it held an intensity that commanded attention. “We’re going to lose people,” she confessed, her gaze fixed firmly on her plate as if willing the food to drown out the grim reality. Their little bubble at the Gryffindor table, previously filled with chatter, was now thick with unease.

Feeling the weight of her words, James shifted, opening his mouth to perhaps offer comfort. But she continued, this time lifting her eyes, letting them pierce each individual present. “And people are going to betray us, willingly or not.”

James met her gaze, a shadow of sorrow darkening his hazel eyes. He appeared as if he wanted to argue, to provide a counter, but words failed him.

Sirius shifted Emmeline slightly before placing his hand flat on the wooden table. "We need to make a vow," he began, the usual jest gone from his voice, replaced by steel. "Promise each other, right here, right now. No matter the cost, we'd rather fall than betray our own. The Order, our families, our friends." He looked at each of them, seeking confirmation. "Agreed?"

James, pulling himself from his contemplation, pressed his hand firmly atop Sirius's. "Agreed."

One by one, hands joined the growing pile in the center of the table – Emmeline, her fingers delicate yet firm; Lily, her hand next to James’s, the promise not only to the group but to the future they hoped to share; Rylie, her gaze unwavering; Evan, solid and determined; and Remus, his hand showing scars of battles past and hinting at those to come.

The pause before Peter added his hand was almost imperceptible, but Rylie noticed. The momentary hesitation spoke volumes, and she tucked that observation away for later, hoping it meant nothing. 

After their intense conversation, a heavy silence blanketed the group. The usual hum of breakfast chatter around the Great Hall surrounded them, a stark contrast to the solemn moment they just shared. The scrape of cutlery on plates, the soft murmur of conversations, and the gentle rustle of robes provided a backdrop to their own introspection.

James fiddled with his fork for a moment before clearing his throat. "Don't forget, we have our final game today," he said, his gaze shifting between Sirius and Rylie. There was a note of nostalgia in his voice, a hint of the countless Quidditch matches they'd played and the camaraderie they'd shared on the pitch.

Rylie straightened, pushing aside the weight of earlier thoughts. A small, determined smile curved her lips. "One more win?" she asked, trying to inject a bit of levity into the heavy atmosphere.

James returned her smile, albeit briefly, his eyes shining with a mixture of excitement and melancholy. "One more win," he affirmed.

Sirius let out a soft chuckle, the sound lightening the mood a fraction. He ruffled his hair, a familiar gesture. "To finish the year on a high? Absolutely. One more win."

The three exchanged a look of understanding. In the midst of looming uncertainties and the shadow of war, the simple joys of friendship and Quidditch were a beacon of hope.

~*~

The atmosphere at the Quidditch pitch was electric. Red and gold banners fluttered proudly in the stands, offset by those of the Ravenclaw team’s colors. The sun was high, casting gleaming highlights on the broomsticks lined up and ready to take to the skies. Spectators poured in, filling the stands with excited chatter, cheers, and the occasional jeer.

James Potter, in his captain's gear, pulled his team into a huddle. “Listen, this is our final match. We play smart, play hard, and most importantly, play together.” His hazel eyes met each of their gazes. “We've got this.”

Sirius gave a confident smirk, patting his Keeper's gloves. “They won’t be getting anything past me today.” 

Rylie twirled her Beater’s bat, determination set in her eyes. “I’ve got your backs. Let's give them a show they won't forget.”

The whistle blew, and the teams shot into the air. The Quaffle was immediately in play, Chasers weaving through the air with grace and aggression. James, ever the agile Chaser, swooped and darted around the opposition, his years of experience evident in every calculated move.

The Bludgers were particularly vicious today, and Rylie was on her game. With deft hits, she redirected them towards the opposing team’s Chasers and away from James and the rest of the Gryffindor team. The crowd roared with excitement every time she took a particularly challenging shot, making her presence felt throughout the pitch.

Sirius, as Keeper, displayed some of the best Quidditch reflexes Hogwarts had seen. Opposing Chasers thought they'd found gaps in his defenses, only for him to dive at the last second, blocking the Quaffle with an outstretched hand or a well-placed kick. His agility was unmatched, keeping the Gryffindor goalposts safe time and time again.

The game was intensely close. Every point mattered, and the snitch was proving elusive. Gryffindor's Seeker had a couple of near misses, adding to the game's tension. The crowd's reactions mirrored the game's ups and downs, gasping, cheering, and groaning in unison.

Then, in a heart-stopping moment, an opposing Beater sent a Bludger rocketing towards James just as he was about to score. All eyes turned to Rylie, who was at the other end of the pitch. But with a powerful, adrenaline-fueled surge, she zoomed across, intercepting the Bludger with a deafening crack of her bat, sending it hurtling away.

Capitalizing on the momentary distraction, James threw the Quaffle with a powerful arm, scoring for Gryffindor. The crowd erupted in jubilant cheers, and James shot Rylie a grateful nod.

As the game neared its end, the scores were neck and neck. It all came down to the Golden Snitch. With a sudden shout, the Gryffindor Seeker made a blazing dive, the tiny, fluttering golden ball in sight. After a nail-biting chase, they finally caught the Snitch, sealing Gryffindor's victory and earning them the House Cup.

The team descended onto the pitch amidst deafening cheers. Rylie, Sirius, and James, all soaked in sweat but grinning widely, joined in a triumphant group hug.

“We did it,” James breathed, his voice full of emotion.

“One last win,” Sirius echoed, his smile infectious.

Rylie, holding her Beater's bat like a trophy, chimed in, "For Gryffindor!" Their final Quidditch match at Hogwarts couldn't have ended on a higher note.

The locker room was filled with a mix of sweat, grass, and the wooden scent of the brooms. The cacophony outside from the ecstatic Gryffindor supporters still echoed through the wooden walls, but inside, the victorious team was taking a moment to themselves, relishing their hard-fought win.

As the door to the locker room creaked open, three familiar faces stepped inside. Evan, a mixture of pride and relief evident on his face; Lily, whose green eyes sparkled with excitement, holding a bunch of red roses; and Emmeline, beaming from ear to ear, a folded Gryffindor banner in hand.

The victorious team had just begun to catch their breath when the locker room door swung open to reveal Evan, his dark eyes dancing with pride. "Look at you lot! Champions!" he beamed, his voice echoing amidst the wooden benches and metallic lockers. Moving forward, he clapped Sirius firmly on the back, causing a small cloud of dust from the pitch to puff up from his robes. Their shared laughter was a testament to years of shared adventures and mischief, a camaraderie forged in the fires of Hogwarts' trials.

Lily, with her fiery hair cascading down like a living waterfall, sauntered up to James. A mischievous twinkle in her emerald eyes matched the sly smile playing on her lips. "You think you can just fly around looking that impressive and get away with it?" she teased, extending the bunch of velvety red roses to him. The petals, still fresh with morning dew, contrasted beautifully with her pale skin.

James snapped a mock salute, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Every time," he declared with the confident air of a captain who'd just led his team to victory. But then his demeanor softened, and he pulled Lily into a warm, lingering embrace. Their combined laughter, light and melodious, permeated the room, as they swayed gently to an unplayed tune.

Meanwhile, Sirius, still reeling from the match's adrenaline, found himself confronted by Emmeline. She carefully unfolded the crimson Gryffindor banner she had clutched in her hands, showcasing a hand-drawn sign. “#1 Keeper!” it proudly declared. Sirius feigned a look of exaggerated surprise, raising an eyebrow. “For me?”

Emmeline chuckled, her eyes softening with affection. “As if there was any doubt,” she whispered, her voice imbued with genuine pride. Gracefully, she rose onto the balls of her feet, tiptoeing just enough to plant a gentle, loving kiss on Sirius's cheek. The warmth of the moment was palpable, a gentle counterpoint to the fiery energy of the game.

The dim glow of the locker room reflected off Sirius's silver-blue eyes, deepening their hue as he wrapped an arm securely around Emmeline. His fingers brushed the soft fabric of her robes, tinged with the scent of summer grass and the musky exhilaration of the Quidditch pitch. Leaning closer, the warmth of his breath tickled her ear as he whispered, "For luck.” His voice held a light raspiness, a hint of emotion, revealing just how much this moment meant to him. The corners of his lips twitched upwards, and the pure, unfiltered happiness in his eyes was as clear as the waters of the Black Lake on a calm day.

On the other side of the locker room, Rylie, her fingers still slightly grimy from the dust of the pitch, methodically cleaned her beater’s bat. The polished wood glinted under the lights as she turned to Evan, a playful glint in her eyes. Her voice held a teasing lilt as she asked, “You didn’t bet against us, did you?”

Evan met her gaze, a wry smile playing on his lips, the familiar spark of mischief in his eyes complemented by a deeper warmth. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he countered smoothly, his arm snaking around her shoulder, pulling her closer. The weight and strength of his embrace conveyed the depth of his confidence in her and the team. “Knew you had it in the bag.”

Rylie's laughter rang through the room, as genuine and light as the chimes of the Great Hall. She leaned into Evan's touch, her arm wrapping around his waist, their forms fitting together seamlessly. “Good,” she responded, her voice dancing between playful threat and genuine affection, “because I would have hexed you till the owls came home.” The room resounded with their shared mirth, echoing the joy of the day.

~*~

The Great Hall had been transformed. The usual house tables had been cleared away, making room for a spacious dance floor. Floating candles lit the vast space with a warm, golden glow, their flames swaying gently to the rhythm of the enchanting music filling the room. Above, the enchanted ceiling displayed a clear starlit night, with shooting stars occasionally streaking across, leaving a trail of golden dust that seemed to sprinkle down on the students below.

Clusters of students stood around, some engaged in animated conversations while others sipped on drinks or sampled from the vast array of snacks lining the side tables. In one corner, a group of sixth years was laughing over a levitating goblet game, while a pair of Hufflepuffs were engaged in what appeared to be a magical arm-wrestling contest.

James, looking dashing in his formal robes, led Lily onto the dance floor. They moved together seamlessly, lost in their world, sharing secret smiles. They looked every bit the couple that was the talk of Hogwarts.

Not far from them, Sirius was surrounded by a group of younger students, regaling them with tales of his infamous pranks. But every so often, his gaze would wander to Emmeline, who was chatting with a group of her friends. Their shared glances spoke of a deep understanding, and occasionally he'd shoot her that signature roguish grin.

Rylie, resplendent in a flowing dress that shimmered with every shade of red and gold, was chatting animatedly with Evan. Their conversation seemed intense, filled with both laughter and more somber reflections, a mix of memories from the past and hopes for the future.

And as the night wore on, the music's tempo changed. Slower, more poignant melodies replaced the earlier lively tunes. The reality of their impending graduation, of the changes it would bring, began to settle in. For many, it was a bittersweet moment. The joy of their achievements and the future's promise was tinged with the sadness of parting and the uncertainty of the times they were in.

Remus, in a quiet conversation with Peter, gestured towards their friends on the dance floor. “It’s the end of an era,” he mused.

Peter nodded, his expression thoughtful. "But also the start of something new."

The two shared a knowing smile. It was a night to remember – the culmination of their time at Hogwarts and the threshold of the great unknown beyond.

Amid the swirling dancers and melodic tunes, a hush began to envelop the room. The band transitioned into a soft, sentimental piece, causing heads to turn towards the source of the emerging spotlight at the center of the dance floor.

There, James took a deep breath, the nerves evident on his face. He pulled Lily closer, her green eyes searching his with both anticipation and confusion. Even as murmurs traveled around, all attention was focused on the pair.

"Lily," James began, his voice filled with an emotion that silenced the whispers. "Ever since our first bumbling interaction on the Hogwarts Express, through all our fiery arguments and shared laughter, my life has been inexplicably intertwined with yours."

As realization dawned on Lily, her hand fluttered to her chest, her eyes widening.

Sinking to one knee, James produced a small velvet box. "Every moment, whether it's fighting dark forces or just watching the sun set over the Black Lake, I want it to be with you. Lily Evans, will you marry me?"

For a moment, the hall was so silent one could hear a pin drop. Then, with her eyes shining bright with tears, Lily whispered a choked up, "Yes!" sending the room into an uproar of joy.

But amidst the jubilation, two pairs of eyes caught a movement near one of the exits. Rylie and Sirius, while applauding for their friends, noticed Severus Snape's face contorted with a mix of bitterness and sadness. Without a word, Severus swiftly exited the Great Hall, the heavy doors closing behind him with a thud.

Sirius nudged Rylie, subtly tilting his head in Snape's direction. "Did you see that?" he muttered, a frown on his face.

Rylie nodded. "Yeah. He still has feelings for her, doesn't he?"

Sirius sighed. "Seems so. But tonight's about James and Lily. Let's not let him ruin the mood."

Rylie agreed, turning her attention back to the celebrating couple, but not before taking one last glance at the now closed doors of the Great Hall.

The newly engaged couple stood in the center of the Great Hall, their radiant happiness creating a magnetic pull that drew their friends in. Even amidst the lively music and laughter, their intimate moment stood out, and it was only a matter of time before their friends flocked to congratulate them.

Rylie was the first to reach them, her grin wide and infectious. "James Potter," she exclaimed, wrapping him in a fierce hug, "finally put a ring on it, huh?" She pulled back to ruffle his hair, her smile teasing.

James chuckled, giving a mock-salute. "When you know, you know."

Evan approached next, his grin genuine as he clapped James on the back. "Well done, mate," he said, his voice warm. Turning to Lily, he added, "And congratulations to you, Evans. You've officially tamed the untamable."

Lily rolled her eyes but laughed, "It's been a work in progress."

Sirius, with a devilish glint in his eyes, stepped up to James. "Was starting to think you'd lost your touch, Prongs. But this," he gestured to the sparkling ring on Lily's finger, "is pretty convincing."

Emmeline and Remus joined in with their own wishes, chuckling and sharing stories of James's various failed attempts to woo Lily in their earlier years. It was all in good fun, teasing mixed with genuine happiness for their friends' future.

Rylie, holding onto Evan's arm, turned to Lily. "You two are perfect for each other, really," she said sincerely, her gaze soft. "Here's to many years of love, laughter, and, knowing James, plenty of mischief."

Lily laughed, leaning into James. "Thank you, Rylie. We're both looking forward to it."

~*~

The sun rose over Hogwarts, its golden light reflecting off the calm surface of the Black Lake. A slight chill lingered in the morning air, hinting at the transition between spring and summer. On this particular day, the Hogwarts grounds seemed more vibrant, more alive. The enchanting castle, with its turrets and towers, stood as the backdrop for what was to be a momentous occasion.

Inside the Great Hall, rows of chairs were arranged in front of a grand stage where the Headmaster, Professors, and other distinguished guests were seated. Banners representing all four houses – Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin – were hung proudly, their colors intermingling in a show of unity.

The graduating class was a buzz of excitement. The young witches and wizards were draped in graduation robes, their individual house colors standing out. Each student wore a pointed hat, a nod to the traditional wizarding attire, but with a special tassel indicating their year of graduation.

As the Hall began to fill with parents, guardians, and other family members, the atmosphere became thick with emotion. There were proud smiles, a few tears, and countless hugs and words of congratulations.

Rylie's fingers lingered on her graduation cap, ensuring the tassel was perfectly in place. As she looked across the room, her gaze fell on Evan, who stood slightly apart from the rest, staring intently at the floor. His usually sparkling eyes held a distant, melancholy look.

"Hey," Rylie approached him, her steps careful, her voice soft. She nudged him gently, pulling him from his reverie. "You alright?"

He looked up, offering her a wan smile, though the pain in his eyes was unmistakable. "It's just... surreal, you know? Feels like only yesterday we were nervous first years, unsure of everything. And now..."

He trailed off, swallowing hard. The absence of his parents, especially on this pivotal day, weighed heavily on his heart. The grim fate that had befallen them, their souls lost to the Dementor's kiss after being found guilty of the murder of Rylie's mother, left an indelible mark on Evan's soul.

Rylie understood the unsaid words, the grief he felt. She too felt a pang of sorrow, wishing her mother could be there to see her graduate. But she took solace in the fact that her father was there, his proud gaze following her every move.

"I know," she whispered, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "But we've faced so much together, and look at us now. We've grown, learned, and we're ready to step into the world with heads held high."

Evan nodded, drawing in a shaky breath, "You're right. We've got so many adventures waiting for us. And we have each other."

The two shared a bittersweet smile as Rylie gave Evan’s a gentle squeeze. 

Across the room, James was animatedly recounting tales of their school adventures to a younger student, his arm draped around Lily, who was trying her best to suppress her laughter. Sirius and Emmeline, hand in hand, were talking to Professor McGonagall, undoubtedly sharing a light moment, given the Head of Gryffindor's amused expression.

The ceremony began with the Hogwarts choir singing a magical rendition of the school anthem. This was followed by speeches from the Headmaster and a few other professors, sharing their wisdom and well wishes.

As the headmaster began announcing the names, one by one, each student took their turn walking across the stage. Each step was a testament to years of hard work, late-night study sessions, and memories made within the ancient walls of Hogwarts. The audience responded with an affectionate mix of cheers, a few playful jeers from close friends, and hearty applause. The very air seemed charged with emotion, thick with pride and nostalgia.

James's name rang out, echoing slightly in the vast hall. With his signature flair, he strode across the stage, pausing to accept his diploma with a dramatic, flourishing bow. The act, so quintessentially James, sent a ripple of laughter through the audience, even earning a chuckle from a few stern-faced professors.

Rylie was next, her posture straight, radiating an understated confidence. As she accepted her diploma, her eyes scanned the crowd, settling on her father whose face shone with pride. She sent him a small, heartfelt wave, holding back the swell of emotion threatening to spill over.

Sirius's turn came soon after. The ever-charismatic young man couldn't resist adding his own touch to the moment. He shot a wink to the audience as he accepted his diploma, his grin infectious and wide.

The ceremony continued, a dance of names and steps, until every last student had walked the stage. And as the final notes of the Hogwarts anthem echoed through the hall, reality began to seep in for the graduates. The doors swung open, leading them onto the sunlit grounds where family and friends awaited with open arms, cameras in hand, ready to capture the final moments of this significant day.

As students hugged, laughed, and shed a few tears amidst the backdrop of the ancient castle, one thing was clear: While this chapter at Hogwarts had come to a close, the stories of their lives were only just beginning.

There were tearful goodbyes, promises to keep in touch, and the ever-present feeling of hope and anticipation for the future. As the sun began its descent, casting a golden hue over the castle, the Hogwarts Class of that year bid their final farewell to the place that had been their home for seven magical years.

Chapter Text

The setting sun cast a warm, golden hue over the grounds of the Potter estate, the sprawling meadows bathed in its gentle glow. It was the kind of evening that seemed to suspend time, offering a brief respite from the world's chaos. Rylie was grateful the Potter’s let them stay while they searched for a home now that they’ve graduated. 

Inside the expansive manor, the sounds of a piano drifted gently, filling the rooms with nostalgic melodies. The intricate notes were occasionally punctuated by a soft laughter or the clink of glass.

Rylie found herself leaning against the doorway, her gaze fixed on the ebony and ivory keys as Evan's fingers danced across them. The melancholic tune he played seemed to encapsulate the bittersweet feelings of the moment. The grandeur of the room, with its high ceilings and ornate tapestries, felt somewhat suffocating, yet the music brought a semblance of comfort.

"Didn't know you played," she remarked, moving to sit beside him on the piano bench.

Evan's fingers danced over the keys, evoking melodies that seemed to transport the listeners to another time and place. Noticing Rylie's curious gaze, he smiled wistfully. "Been a while," he said, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. "Picked it up in my younger years, during some... introspective moments."

Before she could inquire further into that somewhat cryptic remark, the room was filled with a flurry of activity. The grand double doors opened with a flourish, revealing Mrs. Potter, whose face was lit up with excitement, arms cradling boxes that were clearly heavy with age and memories. 

“Treasures from the attic!” Mrs. Potter declared, setting down the boxes with a slight puff of exertion. “Thought it might be fun to go down memory lane.”

Rylie's eyes sparkled with mischief as she pulled out a worn-out photo album, dust motes dancing in the shafts of sunlight. She shot a playful glance at Lily, who was engaged in conversation with Evan. “Oi, Lily! Fancy seeing some adorable and possibly embarrassing baby photos of James?”

From the staircase, a mortified exclamation echoed. “Mum, seriously?!” James' voice was filled with feigned outrage, but the twinkle in his eyes betrayed his amusement. 

Sirius, ever the mischief-maker, jumped up from his perch, narrowly avoiding colliding with a lamp. “I'm in!” he shouted, bolting towards the table. "This is going to be golden."

The pages of the album creaked with age as Rylie began flipping through them. The room echoed with peals of laughter as candid shots of a much younger James — with his messy hair and mischievous smile — came into view. There were photos of him playing in the garden, covered head to toe in mud, pictures of him fast asleep with his tiny thumb in his mouth, and one particularly hilarious shot of him trying to ride a broomstick and ending up tangled in a tree.  

Amidst the candid memories, Rylie stumbled upon a series of photos that took her breath away. They were of a younger her, playing with James in the Potter garden, their faces lit up with pure childhood joy. The two of them could be seen building sandcastles in the sand box, chasing each other, and even trying to make potions from garden flowers.

Next to those photos was a heartwarming shot: Rylie's parents alongside the Potters, all laughing and sharing a toast during some summer get-together. The vibrancy of her mother's smile, the protective arm her father had around her — these memories tugged at Rylie's heart.

She turned the page, her fingers gently running along her mum’s face. It was a photo of a much younger Rylie and James, probably about 7 or 8, from the looks of it the same get together from the previous photo, sitting side by side playing the same piano Evan was playing moments ago while Rylie’s mum stood next to them, smiling. 

She felt an arm slip around her waist and a finger gently brush her cheek, which was damp. She blinked in confusion and looked to Evan who gave her a small smile. Tears had escaped and she didn’t know. She gave a weak smile and turned the page, finding herself suddenly laughing at a picture of baby James, all covered in bubbles (much to James relief), sitting in a tub.

“Oh my goodness James! You’re so adorable!!” Lily cood as she turned the page to see some more baby pictures of James. 

“Yeah, what happened?” Sirius inquired, chuckling then letting out an oof as James elbowed him in the ribs.

Mrs. Potter chuckled as she turned to the kitchen. “I’m going to get dinner together. You kids have fun.”

~*~

In the cozy embrace of the family room, the soft glow from the fireplace painted the walls with a warm, amber hue. The delicious remnants of dinner still lingered in the air, testament to the evening filled with hearty laughter, shared stories, and the rich tapestry of their intertwined lives. As the grandfather clock in the corner chimed, signaling the hour, Mr. and Mrs. Potter bid their goodnights, their voices filled with affection and mirth, leaving behind a group of young souls, each lost in their own thoughts.

Rylie’s gaze wandered to Sirius, who seemed engrossed in a Muggle magazine, its glossy pages reflecting the fire's light. She hesitated for a beat, her curiosity getting the better of her. “Sirius,” she began, her voice soft and tentative, “will Emmeline be visiting anytime soon?”

Sirius paused, a shadow passing over his expressive eyes. "No," he replied with a sigh. "She dove straight into the Auror program right after graduation. It’s intense, demanding... She’ll be immersed in training for a long while." His voice dropped to a murmur, almost as if he was speaking to himself, "It might be months before I get to see her."

The weight of his words hung heavily in the room. Evan, sensing the gravity of what was unsaid, tightened his hold around Rylie. She leaned into him, their shared aspirations and doubts clear in their shared silence. The path of an Auror was something Rylie had considered too, and the reality of what it entailed was starting to set in.

Lily ventured softly, "She's strong, Sirius. And she won't be gone forever. I’m sure she’ll write at least.”

Sirius responded with a soft grunt, his fingers absently flipping another page, but everyone could sense the mix of pride and longing that he was trying to mask.

Rylie shifted in her seat, her gaze flitting to her wristwatch. Its soft ticking seemed amplified in the room's quiet. "It's getting late," she mused, her voice gently breaking the stillness. Rising gracefully, she turned her gaze to Evan, eyes filled with an unspoken question. "Bed?"

Evan nodded, his fingers interlacing with hers as he stood, the gesture a silent promise of support and togetherness. "Goodnight, everyone," he murmured, echoing her sentiment.

As they began their ascent, James, ever the playful instigator, called out with a chuckle, "Throw up a silencing charm, will you? We don’t need to hear you making babies!"

Lily, feigning indignation, playfully swatted at James, her eyes rolling in mock exasperation. "Honestly, James!"

Rylie, without missing a beat, shot back, "Take your own advice! And thank Merlin your parents are hard of hearing. Just... remember we're all under the same roof!" James's cheeks flushed a vibrant shade of red, and the room echoed with laughter, easing the earlier tension.

~*~

“What do you think that was about?” Evan asked as he shut the door to Rylie’s bedroom behind him. 

“I don’t know, I think he’s just upset that he’s going through a ‘dry’ spell.” Rylie chuckled as she lifted her shirt over her head to change into her pajamas.

Evan’s arms slipped around her waist and she smiled as he brought her close to him. “A dry spell eh? That poor bloke.” he said as he slid his hands up her bare back, causing her skin to tingle under his touch. His fingers made quick work of her bra and she frowned slightly. 

“Honestly, he’s just scared for her and really worried. He gets like this when he’s really scared.” Rylie whispered. “I just hope they didn’t break or up anything.” She said as he slid the bra off her shoulders, exposing her bare chest. 

“Rylie, I’m sure they’re okay.” he said as he raised his wand, threw up a silencing charm to prevent anybody from hearing them, then leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.

She sighed into his kiss as her hands began to lift his shirt, breaking the kiss momentarily to remove the shirt as Evan was making quick work to remove her pants. “So about that making babies thing..” Rylie said breathlessly as Evan gently led her backwards to the bed till she laid down and he was on top of her.  

Evan paused, propping himself on an elbow as he ran his fingers with his other hand down between the space between her breasts and down to her core, causing her to gasp as he moved his fingers against her. “Mm.. are you proposing we start trying tonight?” he asked as he lowered his lips to one of her nipples, the sensation causing a small gasp to escape her lips. 

“With… what’s going on..” she gasped as he dipped a finger inside of her. “I don’t.. Want to waste time.” she arched her hips against his hand and moaned softly.

Evan's gaze locked with Rylie's, his eyes mirroring the same intensity he felt from her. Her breath hitched as he whispered, "Then let's make a baby." His words were a gentle breeze on her skin, a soothing lullaby that hid the storm of emotions raging within him. A promise, a vow, a declaration, all wrapped into a single, simple statement.

As he moved over her, his muscular frame cast a shadow that played with the moonlight, creating a captivating silhouette against the backdrop of the room's muted colors. His gaze never left hers, an unbroken connection that reflected their shared passion and desire.

His lips met hers once more in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, a complete contrast to their earlier frantic desperation. He slid inside her, each movement a measured dance of anticipation and fulfillment. The room filled with an undercurrent of sweet tension as they found a rhythm, their bodies moving in a synchronized dance of love and yearning.

Rylie's fingers dug into Evan's back, her nails tracing patterns that spoke volumes of her pleasure. The soft moans leaving her lips was music to his ears, a symphony of satisfaction that echoed within the confines of their private sanctuary.

Evan's heart pounded in his chest, his pulse echoing in his ears like a drum, keeping time with the rhythm of their bodies. The sensation of Rylie beneath him was intoxicating, her warmth enveloping him in a cocoon of bliss that made him forget everything else.

With each movement, with each soft gasp that passed Rylie's lips, he was reminded of their shared intention. This wasn't just an act of passion; it was a pledge, a promise of a shared future that they were about to embark upon. The realization filled him with an overwhelming sense of love and adoration for the woman beneath him.

Their movements synced together as if they'd been doing this for years, and each time Rylie's body arched to meet Evan's, he felt more connected to her than ever before. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, but it only seemed to fuel their fervor even further.

The heat between them grew exponentially with each passing second as they explored each other in a way that only lovers could. Evan let out a deep groan of pleasure as their hips met in perfect harmony, his hands gripping tightly onto Rylie's hips as he drove himself into her. 

Rylie's head tipped back in ecstasy, her body quivering beneath his touch as she sought release from the torturous pleasure of his thrusts. Her screams echoing off the walls and penetrating Evan's soul as she finally found the satisfaction she was searching for and pushing him over the edge with her. 

Lying next to her afterwards, Evan pulled Rylie into his embrace and held her close. They lay in comfortable silence, letting the moment sink in as they both basked in the glow of their newly formed connection. He kissed her forehead tenderly, breathing in the scent of her skin while savoring this special moment between them. 

He knew without a doubt that no matter what life threw at them, they would always have this shared experience to fall back on and draw strength from. The comfort he felt in that moment was immeasurable and it was then that he truly knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this amazing woman by his side.

~*~

Rylie, standing amid a sea of boxes in their new living room, inhaled deeply. The comforting scent of old books mingled with the crisp air that floated through an open window. While they'd been in their new home for a few days, the chaos of moving had left much still to be done.

Evan walked in, levitating a heavy-looking box labeled 'Rylie's Books.' "Where do you want these?" he asked, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Because at this rate, we might need a library extension."

Rylie playfully swatted him. "Just put them by the bookshelf. We’ll sort them out soon."

Before Evan could retort, the front door creaked open, revealing James and Lily, their arms filled with what looked to be housewarming gifts. "Hope we're not too late to the unpacking party," James remarked, grinning widely.

Lily rolled her eyes, placing a beautifully wrapped box on the nearby table. "We thought you could use some help, and maybe some company. Besides," she added, waving her wand and levitating a few boxes to start unpacking, "Four hands are better than two."

Amidst the gentle chaos of rearranging and unpacking, Rylie looked around, feeling the slight absence of their other friends. “Speaking of hands, where are Sirius and Remus? I half expected Sirius to be here causing more mess than he'd be helping with,” she said with a teasing smirk.

James let out a sigh, running a hand through his already messy hair. “They’re on a mission for the Order,” he said, his voice taking on a more serious tone. “Dumbledore needed them for something... confidential. Said it's crucial for our cause.”

Evan, pausing in his work, looked over, a frown creasing his brow. “Do you think they'll be alright?”

Lily nodded reassuringly, though her eyes betrayed a hint of worry. “They're both skilled wizards, and they have each other’s backs. We have to trust that they'll return safely.”

There was a heavy silence, the weight of the war pressing down on them, even in such a joyful moment of new beginnings. James took a deep breath, shaking off the heaviness. “For now, let’s focus on helping you two get settled in. We'll make this place feel like home in no time.”

Rylie's eyes sparkled with warmth, the depth of gratitude evident. "Having you two here, supporting us through everything, it's... it's indescribable," she murmured, taking a moment to regain her composure. "Friendships like these are rare, and even more precious during shit times like these."

Lily, trying to steer the conversation to a lighter note, chimed in, her voice playfully light. “Speaking of brightening things up, how about we toast to new beginnings?” She produced a bottle of wine from her bag with a flourish of her wand, causing Rylie to chuckle at her impeccable timing.

But as Lily began distributing the wine glasses, Rylie hesitated, gently declining with a shake of her head. 

James, feigning shock, teased, “What's this? Rylie not partaking in a celebratory drink? You must be under the weather.” He theatrically placed the back of his hand on her forehead, pretending to gauge her temperature.

With an amused snort, Rylie brushed his hand aside. Her gaze flitted to Evan, their eyes sharing a secret. "Actually, we've decided to try for a little one, so I'd rather play it safe," she revealed, a soft blush tinting her cheeks.

Lily's eyes widened in delight, her earlier jest forgotten. "Oh, Rylie! That's absolutely wonderful news," she exclaimed, embracing her friend tightly. The room filled with an undercurrent of joy, a precious moment of hope amid the tumultuous times they found themselves in.

James, still grinning, clapped Evan on the back. "Well, mate, embarking on the journey of trying is half the fun, isn't it?"

Evan chuckled, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. "It is. A whole new adventure awaits."

Rylie laughed, her hand still intertwined with Evan's. "Let's just hope our future child inherits your charm and not my knack for finding trouble."

Lily, sipping her wine, quipped, "If it's anything like its parents, that child will be a magical blend of mischief and grace."

Evan smirked, "And undoubtedly will have the best godparents and friends to guide them."

Rylie gazed at Evan, her eyes brimming with affection. She had already settled on James and Lily as godparents in her heart, but she was uncertain about Evan's feelings, especially given her past with James. Sensing her contemplation, Evan met her gaze with a comforting smile and tenderly grasped her hand. 

James couldn’t help but smile and nod. “When the time comes, we’d love to be that little tyke’s god parents.” he said as he draped an arm over Lily’s shoulders. 

Rylie's light-heartedness faded a tad. "With everything happening outside, the idea of bringing a child into such a world feels... daunting."

Lily placed a reassuring hand on Rylie's. "We're all in this together. Whatever comes, that child will be surrounded by love, and that's the most powerful protection."

James nodded, raising his glass, "To future Potter and Rosier mischief-makers."