Author's Note: Some of you might remember seeing this story on the official Harry Potter fanfiction website, where I have published it under the username of wottercrazy7. Everything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling, queen of the Harry Potter universe. Anything you don't belongs to humble old me.

"So wise so young, they say, do never live long"

- King Richard III (Act III, Scene I).

Robin

"Robin, hurry up! I cannot stand another moment of Rose's holier-than-thou attitude".

As Dominique called out to me from the carriage door I turned towards her, glad for a reason to move away from my cousin, Charles, and his girlfriend, Mary (and also, a little amused at seeing Rose glare at Dom's back like she would prefer nothing more than to stab it with her sharpest eagle-feather quill).

I was quite happy for Charles, but if I had to be quite honest, the blatant affection he and Mary were showing by constantly grinning at each other like fools seemed overly-done to me, and was beginning to grate on my nerves.

The thought did cross my mind that it was perhaps my own singlehood that was to blame for my suspicion and sour disposition towards them - after all, I had thought the same thing not two minutes ago when I saw Maria and William swapping saliva on the platform in plain sight - but in my current state of denial I chose to blame my annoyance on the disgusting, tooth-rotting sweetness of the display in front of me.

"I suppose I will see you two soon enough" I plastered my best rendition of a fake smile on my face as I waved goodbye to the couple in front of me "But I really must go and change my robes now, or all the washrooms will be taken up".

The relief at getting away was palpable. I really could not understand why others' love lives were bothering me so much lately, although Dom and Noah's relationship did not trouble me in the least. Perhaps it was simply the overly-saccharine displays of emotion that were getting to me, and it was not hard to guess why.

I allowed a frown to momentarily take over my countenance. A reminder of Isaac, his emotional manipulation interspersed with corny compliments, my naivety, and the betrayal and humiliation of being cheated upon was not a pleasant thought to begin my seventh and final year at Hogwarts with. Instead, I diverted my attention to thinking about all the wonderful and varied topics I would have the liberty to write on for the school paper, A Witching, regarding which I had a free reign over all executive decisions as the editor-in-chief this year. After all, there is nothing quite like work to fill the big, gaping void in one's heart.

Dom was waiting for me on the steps of the carriage, pointedly looking away from her cousin. The two were constantly at loggerheads because Dom was convinced that Rose was good for nothing except giving unwanted sermons and being a stick-in-the-mud of the most generic variety, while Rose, as she had openly (and unpromptedly) stated on several occasions, thought that Dom was "irreverent, spoilt rotten, and undeserving of appreciation". Needless to say, the two had animosity that was not going to disappear overnight.

"Come on" I gestured towards the compartments as we entered the carriage "Let's fetch our robes and change before the washrooms get occupied by all those fifth-years attempting to slather on face paint or hair gel to impress each other".

Dom smirked, "You do remember that we were once one of those fifth-years, and did the exact same things?".

"I do, and I don't begrudge them the abundant joys of crashing into pillars as a result of poking themselves blind with mascara sticks - those were some of the best times of our youth" I spoke, my mouth twisting sardonically.

She laughed "Do you mean to imply we are old now? I mean, you perhaps come across as an old, bitter maid, but I am still quite young and hot".

"Don't I know it" I chuckled as a young attendant walking past Dom stared at her, tripped over himself, and sent his cart crashing into Rose. My best friend was beside herself with barely-contained glee as she watched Rose mutter angrily.

"And besides, I may be well on my way to becoming an old and bitter maid, but I shall own it. I will buy twenty-two cats - grumpy and with sharp claws - have a lawn with untrimmed hedges and ugly gnomes, a hard, mahogany walking stick, and a cackle that I will perfect by practicing in front of the mirror every day".

"And scream at young couples making out around the neighborhood?"

"Of course - how could I forget that?"

"Sounds like a plan" Dom answered casually as we entered the compartment we had previously placed all our baggage in before going out to wish our families farewell. Noah looked up (he had either not left at all, or had come back much earlier than us - it was hard to tell) to see who had dared to disturb his solitude, but seeing that it was just us, nodded at Dom and me before returning to reading the newest edition of The Quibbler that he had cradled in his lap.

Noah was a weird creature, objectively speaking. If you did not know him, his silence seemed unnerving, and even brooding - but the older students in Ravenclaw who had been around him long enough, knew that he was less a man of words, and more a man of action. Indeed, when he did deign to say something, it carried more weight than others' words. Whether this was because of his usual silent nature or because his words actually had more consequence, was hard to tell.

However, he and Dom made for an unusually fitting pair. Before Noah, Dominique had had a number of admirers and boyfriends that did nothing short of shower her with sweet words at all times and in exceeding grimace-inducing cheesiness; however, these same boys got all tongue-tied when introduced to Victoire, Dom's elder sister, who was a Hogwarts alumnus and former Ravenclaw as well.

While Dominique was all snark and spark, Victoire Weasley was grace and glamour personified - and though Dom did not relay her insecurities openly to anyone, a short visit to Shell Cottage in the summer before our second year had made Dom's inner turmoil quite clear to me. On asking, Dominique had confessed that although she loved Vicky, she had a hard time coping with her perfection. So when she started dating and had to encounter boys' suggestions to be more like her elder sister, Dom's anger and resentment was a force to be contended with.

Imagine everyone's surprise when the silent and brooding Noah Jones, Keeper for the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team who rarely spoke to anyone (and who had never dated, or even had rumours of romantic attachments related to him), asked Dom out on a date after she beat a bludger into the back of a Hufflepuff Chaser's head with an unparalleled mixture of finesse and aggression.

Furthermore, imagine my surprise when she said yes, despite having professed to me, less than a day ago, that she was swearing off all men for eternity (although I had never expected that to last too long anyway - we were both teenage fools, after all).

Being the self-appointed guardian to my best friend's heart (and Dominique had never complained), I reserved judgement on Noah until both, he and I, were invited to Shell Cottage over Christmas - although I believe he knew of my reservations and had a silent agreement with me that we were both honouring for Dom's sake. It was after he was personally introduced to Victoire with no resulting reaction except for a cordial handshake, that I started realizing why Dom and Noah's relationship worked so well. He offered no sugary words (or any words, for that matter) or public displays of affection, but was present when he was needed to offer support and small gestures that kept Dom very happy.

He also made it exceedingly easy to not feel like a third wheel, for which I was silently grateful. Dom was my closest friend, and I did not want to either lose her company or intrude on her time with her boyfriend. In the aftermath of my breakup with Isaac last year, Dom was perpetually present for me, and Noah, although he did not speak much, was also a source of comfort when he did. I couldn't help but think of him as a friend after that.

As Dom eagerly shared the story of Rose's downfall by virtue of the meandering cart with Noah, there was a barely perceptible upturning of the corners of his mouth - and I shared the feeling. Indeed, neither he nor I were fond of Rose or the manner in which she accosted Dom at every opportunity she had. The red-headed Gryffindor's aggression and eagerness to find fault with the lot of her cousin's friends was, quite frankly, exhausting to deal with.

Both, Dom and I gathered up our school robes and, saying a quick "We will be back soon" to Noah (who just nodded without looking up), exited the compartment and moved towards the front of the carriage where the washrooms were located.

Nearing the next compartment, we could hear angry exclamations leaking out of the minuscule space between the floor and the sliding door of the compartment. I and Dom rolled our eyes at each other. One did not have to be a genius to figure out who those voices belonged to. Charles, my cousin and Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain extraordinaire, was at it with Theodore, one of the Chasers on the team. Again.

Before we could make out enough of the yelling to determine what the fight was about, the carriage door was thrown open and Theo stormed out, his face red with fury, and accidentally bumped into me. As I grimaced in pain and cupped my shoulder (he was a Quidditch player who worked out on a regular basis, and I was unashamed to admit that my only exercise was walking to the refrigerator and back), he looked down and realized he had hurt me.

"Sorry" he said in a low voice, his features softening just a tad bit as he looked down at me, before he moved to the side and set off to one of the open windows at the other end of the carriage, leaving the glass pane to the compartment door visible for us to clearly see Charlie's features twisted in some horrifying medley as he stared after Theo. Lorcan, the only other occupant of the compartment, simply shared a shocked and wide-eyed look with me and Dom (frankly, it was a bit hilarious. He looked like a deer that had just been thrown into the den of a hungry beast).

Dom looked at me and quirked a quizzical brow at Theo's reaction to me, but I just shook my head at her, indicating that it wasn't something I wanted to talk about. There was a few seconds' pause as she gauged my features, but then shrugged acceptingly, and hooking her arm around mine, set off down the corridor once again.

It was not that I did not want to share all my secrets with Dom, it was just that it wasn't my secret to share. While investigating a scoop for A Witching sometime in my fifth year, I had accidentally discovered something about Theodore that he was not up to sharing with anyone else just yet. I had assured a panicking Theo that I was not going to speak of the matter to anyone, and had kept my promise.

We walked past the next compartment, in which sat the Hufflepuffs. Mary (who seemed much more tolerable without my cousin in her presence) was talking at Lysander, who was busy ignoring her while playing Exploding Snap with Alice. Alice Longbottom, a sixth year and one of the writers for A Witching, looked over and shot a smile at me, which I returned. I was quite fond of Alice - she was a novel individual in the best of ways and her optimism and quirkiness really kept me afloat on days when my own pessimism and anxiety over the paper threatened to swallow me whole.

The next compartment, once again, had a staff member of A Witching (really, we were everywhere. I was unsurprised and quite proud of the fact that we had managed to permeate almost all the biggest circles of gossip). Scorpius was the primary photographer for the paper, in that he contributed almost all of the pictures. He also had a great work ethic about everything that he did, and that I quite admired about him despite his tendency of riling up all the newbies with (what I would never admit aloud for fear of spurring him on, but ingenious) pranks.

With Scorpius was his ever-present best friend, Albus, who was yet another one of Dom's numerous cousins that one could be expected to chance upon at any given moment in Hogwarts' corridors. Albus, thankfully, was one of the better ones and was a friendly acquaintance. Aquila Zabini, the sixth-year Slytherin beauty (yet another friendly acquaintance by way of being part of the trio) was sitting on the other side of the compartment and trying to get some last-minute Arithmancy homework done (if the frenzied, half-crazed look on her face was any indication).

The next and last compartment had me averting my eyes. The Gryffindor compartment currently contained one studious Rose Weasley (why she was even in this carriage and away from her usual pack of friends was a mystery), and two of her elder cousins. While Fred Weasley II was a wizarding treasure and overall delight, he was, unfortunately, almost always attached at the hip to his cousin and best friend, James Potter II.

James and I had a brief and unfortunate history that had ended terribly for both sides - and while I was not proud of my part in lighting the fire, it was he who had fanned it. A wildfire of that magnitude was bound to go up in smoke and leave behind ashes, and I would not admit to regretting anything.

You see, after the meltdown that was the end of my relationship with Isaac last year, I was left both, hurting, and looking for validation of my worth to the male half of the species - as all toxic relationships tend to leave one. So, I did what any desperate and foolish teen does in this situation - went for a rebound when all signs pointed out that it was too early for me. I was also quite caught up in the feeling of betrayal and decided to hit on Isaac's teammate who was a year younger than him and would be taking on the mantle of Gryffindor Quidditch Captain after he left. James, though he would never admit it in the aftermath of everything that had happened between us, was quite happy to reciprocate.

Although we weren't dating, it was clear that we were leading up to it (in my mind anyway, although, in retrospect, it could have been my mental state at the time). So when I saw him whispering into the ears of a giggling girl at an after-game party in the Slytherin common room, not two weeks after discovering Isaac cheating on me, my emotions boiled over.

I am quite ashamed of what I did next, and indeed, regretted it almost immediately after - but what was done, was done. Rather than confronting James about the matter, I abused my position as staff of A Witching (it is a wonder that they still promoted me to editor-in-chief rather than firing me) to write and publish an article on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, their strategies for the upcoming match and their training regime. It was not as though these things were a well-guarded secret because many teams spied on each other for leverage all the time, but writing about them explicitly was a violation of the ethical code of conduct that I had thus far maintained for myself as a writer.

Before I could change my mind, the article had already been published. I did attempt to give James a warning in the form of a written letter of apology that I sent to his dormitory via Talons, my owl, but the note never reached him because I woke up from a fitful sleep to find that my befuddled bird-brain of a pet had simply brought my own letter back to me. I had scolded Talons for a bit, before acquiescing to her pitiful look, petting her, and getting ready to deliver the apology in person at breakfast.

I never got the opportunity to do so. Before I could get to him, the papers got to James first. Worse, my article had made the headlines. At that moment, I could have forgiven any reaction on James' part except for the one he actually had.

Had he discredited the article or even disparaged me in front of the school, I could have dealt with it - but no, he cast aspersions on my character and the legitimacy of all of my written work by comparing me to that cockroach, Rita Skeeter - implying that I had deliberately manipulated him to gain the information. I could deal with accusations of my person, but questioning my work was the worst sort of personal attack that he could have meted out - and suddenly, the apology letter in my hand was no better than trash. Yes, I was ashamed of my own actions, but no, I did not regret who they were aimed at.

In the end, the fact of the matter remained that Isaac was unaffected by the entire affair even though his was the only attention I was seeking. I was inconsequential to him, and he moved on without a single look backwards at me, not even a mocking one. I knew that it was most likely the recentness of the entire affair and my pessimistic and over-dramatic tendencies, but it still felt as though I would never again be able to trust someone enough to have a relationship - not even another poisonous one - ever again.

As I pondered over all of this, the train plunged into a tunnel that cast a darkness over the carriage, and being nearly at the end of the carriage, we heard the distinct 'click' that signified the temporary closing off of train carriages from each other. Dom pushed open the washroom door and we unhooked our arms to enter the separate stalls.

"You seem awfully silent today" came Dom's voice from the stall next to me as I shimmied off my denim trousers and pulled off my shirt.

"I am always this silent Dom" I allowed myself to smile a bit "but you are simply noticing it now because you are not speaking yourself".

"Are you implying that I am a chatterbox?" she replied, attempting to sound cross, but I could tell she was grinning.

"I am stating it outright" I chuckled as I pulled my robe on.

"Look" her voice came, more serious this time around as I heard her stall door opening "I can tell you were thinking about Isaac again, and I know all your deflection strategies and defense mechanisms. I also know that it is not the cheating that got the most to you, it is how he made you feel like you weren't worth the attention of anyone. That is what kept you trapped in that relationship, and what is stopping you from moving on, even now - but he was wrong, and I am going to keep telling you that until you believe it."

I sighed "I need more time, Dom".

"I know" I heard the bathroom door open "take all the time that you need. I am right here".

As I listened to the sound of her footsteps receding, I leaned my head against the stall door and sighed. When was I going to be able to get his voice out of my head? I was exhausted of second-guessing myself and every decision that I made.

It was as I was thinking this, that I heard it - sharp and ear-piercing. Dominique's scream.

My feet rushed me out of the bathroom, tie unmade and hair in disarray, before my mind could catch up with them, to find the shadow of the tunnel move away from Dom's face, revealing a look of the utmost horror.

Relieved to see that she had not suffered any bodily harm, I looked in the direction her eyes were trained in and saw a sight that froze my blood.

A few feet away, under an open window that overlooked the tracks, lay Theodore Jackson - his pale face without expression, and his glassy eyes trained on me.

A/N: Any and all reviews are appreciated! Let me know what you think about the stories and characters so far :)