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I awoke that night, and it was freezing…. bloody dungeons. Braeden's bed was far to small for me to share with him so I decided to get into Roger's. It looked warmer than my couch had, and he wouldn't mind. Braeden probably would, but I didn't really care, I was cold.

I walked silently over to Roger's bed, pulled back the covers and climbed in. I was right. It was warm. I snuggled up to Roger, who was even warmer than his bed. Now warm, I drifted off to sleep.


The next morning


"Fallon! What are you doing in his bed!" Braeden roared. I sat half way up and looked at him sleepily.

"Braeden, you'll find we are both fully clothed. I was cold last night, and his bed looked warmer than the couch. You're bed barely fit you, so I climbed in with him. He's probably not even aware I'm here yet," I mumbled sleepily.

"I am now," Roger grumbled. "What time is it?"

I glanced at the clock and groaned, "Braeden its is only six am. Why the hell did you feel the need to wake us up two and a half hours before our first class?"

"Oh, sorry," Braeden said guiltily "I'd woken up to go to the bathroom, saw you two and well…"

I laid back down and growled at him, "Go back to sleep Braeden." And with that drifted off myself.


We were awakened by the magical clock an hour and a half later so we could get up and eat breakfast before class.

"Shit! I forgot I don't have clothes here," I groaned as Braeden began to gather his stuff from yesterday. A guy could get away with wearing the same thing but if a girl tried it, she was branded with one word: slut. As in people automatically assumed it meant that a girl had been sleeping around.


"Just transfigure what you had yesterday," Roger suggested. That was a good idea. Why is it I never dated a Ravenclaw before? Oh yeah…Oliver… 

"Thanks good idea," I replied. I transfigured the plain white shirt into a Chudley Cannons t-shirt and I was really concerned about the jeans, no one could tell about those. I took my clothes into the bathroom and changed. Then I gave Roger his clothes back with thanks.

"All right, ready to face the shit we're gonna get?" Braeden asked.

"No, but we might as well go to breakfast anyway, I'm hungry," I replied. Braeden and Roger gave a light chuckle at this.

We walked down to the Ravenclaw common room and Roger grabbed my hand. I looked at him curiously. He gave me a smile, and I decided to leave my hand where it lay. Let other people draw their conclusions.

As expected there were some weird catcalls and rude remarks until one person got really obnoxious before we could leave. It was that same bloody harpy from before, Penelope.

"Having one quidditch star isn't enough for you? You had to have ours too? What's wrong, not have enough men to sleep around with?" She taunted. I was angry. Very angry. I moved quickly over to her and drew myself to my full height, which at nearly 5'10" made me staggeringly tower over the petite 4' 10" Penelope Clearwater.

"You don't know any bloody thing about me bitch. Stay the hell away from me, and my boys. I know that may difficult, they being who they are, but if you approach them or me again I will take is as a personal invitation to kick your ass. Clear?" And with that turned my back, grabbed Roger's hand and walked out of the common room with Braeden right behind us.

"That was bloody brilliant Fallon," Braeden complimented with a grin.

"Why thank you brother," I grinned. We made our way down to the Great Hall and opened the doors.

We automatically went to sit at the Ravenclaw table. We had enemies all over it appeared, but I'd put my money with the Ravenclaws to not want to kill us right now.

I began buttering a piece of toast when I glanced up to see Oliver. He had a black eye, a cut on his cheek, and a bruise on his jaw. I want to say I was triumphant, satisfied, happy even, and I was, in a way, but at the same time I was concerned and worried. But then I remembered the fight, and I decided simply to let all the emotion go, good and bad, and forget about him. He obviously didn't care if he'd get so upset about nothing.

"So its only November 9th of the school year, and if you haven't noticed, everyone is glaring at us," Braeden said sarcastically cheery.

"Great," Roger replied equally sarcastic. I only sighed. Life was simply grand right now. I'm three months along, going on the fourth month, the father doesn't know nor am I dating him-not that I regret dating Roger. I cast him a warm look and continued my thoughts. But still, it would be nice if the father knew about the child. No matter though, I would have to semi patch things up before the last week we were here in December. We had a match again Ravenclaw, and I couldn't have him still pissed at me.

"C'mon, we've got to get to Charms," I acknowledged as we finished our food. The three of us picked up our bags and headed up to charms. We accidentally got there earlier than intended however and had to wait outside. We were peacefully talking amongst ourselves when some people showed up and started giving us a hard time.

"Braeden, man what's wrong with you? Beating the shit out of Oliver like that? All he did was have an argument with your sister. I can't see why you didn't beat the tar out of Flint, he was the one who pushed your sister down the stairs," One boy from our year approached Braeden.

"I did, you just haven't noticed with all the uproar about Oliver. He did her just as wrong as Flint though," Braeden replied quietly.

"And Roger, why are you dating her? She just broke up with Oliver. She's just going to do the same to you," Someone else dared.

"He broke up with her for stupid reasons," Roger replied, equally quiet.

I saw Penelope begin to open her mouth. I shot her a look and said simply, "Don’t even start." She immediately closed her mouth.

"Roger, you could have anyone? Why her, I mean she's been mooning after Oliver since 5th year," Someone else spoke up.

"Why you screw up Oliver anyway," Someone else spouted.

It continued like this for a time, with us occasionally answering, but mostly ignoring the questions. Then Oliver came up.

"Enough," He said in a firm but hushed tone. "They've done nothing, leave them alone." And with that we entered the classroom as Professor Flitwick appeared and unlocked the door for us.

It was an uneventful class…okay day…okay week…you know what, fine! A whole month passed uneventfully. Braeden was glad someone else knew so that he wasn't under so much stress. I began taking more and more vitamins and pills. I was now taking runs with Roger, who was slightly slower, but he was getting better. I was getting more and more morning sickness also. Roger and I became closer. For a time it was as if we were dating, but by December 9th, it was more as if we were best friends, but we were happy, and in this perfect little harmony that neither of us wanted to interrupt, so we didn't. We were both aware of what was going on with us emotionally, and we didn't really mind. Like I said, we liked where we were and didn't want to interrupt it right now.

Oliver had been hanging out with Fred, George, Angelina, and Katie. Alicia had begun hanging out with us. It was a silent but wary truce. I knew though, that since this was the last week before we went home and the week of the match against Ravenclaw, we had to settle things. So, I sent him an owl.



   We need to get things between our groups at least…comfortable so we can play our best at the match. Meet us in the Gryffindor common room at 10 tonight. If anyone is there, get rid of them.





That night, I, Braeden and Alicia were in the common at ten on the dot. There we found Oliver, Fred, George, Angelina and Katie waiting on us.

"What do you want?" Oliver asked openly from where he sat.

"We personally don't need to be friends, I can see why we wouldn't, but we've split up our group of friends. We need to at least let them make amends," I replied quietly.

"I suppose so," He agreed. And with that small talk amongst our friends turned into more and more talking, and then laughter, and soon, for them at least, it was like old times. Oliver and I joined in only occasionally, but mostly we were trying not to look each other in the eye, because we both knew what was there: Regret. And we didn't want to have to face it.

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