Teen Drama or "Are we sure there are no more Horcruxes, wife?"

Hope, is that you?

Note: Huge and cute chapter to feed you this week.

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January 2012

When classes resumed, Stephen went to talk to the Slytherin Captain as soon as he got to the Common Room.

Henry Flint was a nice sixth-year who couldn't be more different from his father, Johann Flint, a pureblood elitist that hated everyone related to the defeat of Voldemort – whom he had covertly supported, but since he hadn't been Marked like his cousin Aries Flint he hadn't been prosecuted after the war.

"Wait," said Henry with a frown, "Let me get this straight: you want to be part of the team?"

"Yes," nodded Stephen, "I know you've just learned that Argyle isn't returning for a few months, and you probably haven't set a date yet for the tryouts yet–"

"Tryouts?" asked the older teenager, seeming even more confused, "You're the Headmaster's son, why hasn't he decreed you part of the team?"

"Well," Stephen sighed with a hint of irritation, "my mother doesn't even want me playing, if dad did that, she'd put him to sleep outside in Queenie's Pond for a month."

"Right," chuckled Flint, "Well, I'll come up with a date for the tryouts then and let you know."

"Thanks, mate."

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The first morning, when Stephen reached the Great Hall to have breakfast before his first class of the day, he saw Gianah at the Gryffindor table and hesitated, remembering Uncle Draco's demand for him to widen the distance between her and himself.

However, part of him didn't really want to do that; he wanted to sit near her – even if it was to receive a glare or exchange insults.

Quidditch – focus on Quidditch. Draco has helped you for just a week and you got better! He promised to help again. Focus!

Stephen clenched his fists and resumed walking to the far left of the Great Hall where he saw his friends were.

"She's bloody gorgeous!" he heard Sam say as he approached.

"Yes. She'll be thirteen this year, right?" asked Patrick Fawcett, another Slytherin third-year.

"Who are you talking about?" asked Stephen as he sat and started adding eggs to his plate.

"Gianah Weasley," said Sam.

Stephen scowled, "What about her?"

"She's changing... she won't be slim like most of these girls... noo, she'll have curves," Patrick stretched the last word, making it sound uncomfortably lewd, "Haven't you noticed?"

Yes, I have, his brain immediately replied, but Stephen pressed his lips into a thin line, refusing to join them in their discussion of her physical attributes.

"Did you see her during the break?" asked Sam.

"New Year's," said Stephen nonchalantly, "We spent it at my sister's. Weasley was there."

"And?" asked Patrick, expectantly.

"And nothing," Stephen shrugged, "She was there, I was there, we exchanged a few words, sat at the same table at dinner, and that was it. Nothing else."

Charlie, Patrick and Sam exchanged a glance.

"I really don't understand how you don't find her fit," Charlie shook his head.