Previously on ASIRAG, Lydia (mis?)used the Felix Felicis for her meeting with Harry, which went rather well, all things considered—admittedly, now he knows she's a lesbian Slytherin, but he still doesn't know where she spends her summers or why. But Lyra isn't quite so pleased…

Chapter Forty-Six: Evan and Letta

Harry wrote back the next morning to tell me it was fine, he understood completely. "See, I told you," Lyra said when I showed her. I felt a little bit bad about lying to him, but not that bad. It was my life, after all.

"I know, I know," I said. "You did tell me."

"He'd be just as nice if you told him about your mum and dad," she said. "And you could have Christmas with us."

"But I like having Christmas here," I protested. "It's nice to have a break where I don't have to listen to the grown-ups, and Christmas at Harry's wouldn't be like that at all."

"Yeah, but I'd be there," Lyra said. "Harry always has Christmas with Gran and Granddad."

I wondered for a few seconds what Christmas at Lyra's would be like. I was pretty sure it would be perfect; they probably did everything right, and maybe if we were both at Harry's for New Year's she would kiss me for good luck. "That would be fun," I admitted slowly. "But I can't, my parents always go to Grandmother's house for Christmas." What were they telling people anyway? Grandmother and Teddy would never believe I was sick every year on Christmas. Maybe they'd stopped going too.

"Argh," Lyra said. "You have the worst excuses."

Maybe she was right, but I didn't think they were excuses exactly—they were reasons. It wasn't that I didn't want to tell Harry, exactly; it was that there wasn't any good reason to do it, and lots of good reasons not to. I tried explaining that to Lyra, but she didn't seem to understand the difference.

OOOOO

We had a study party that night, mostly for Defense. Professor Granger was a really strict teacher; she didn't seem to understand that we didn't have time to write essays and do practical work and read theory every night. I had to do potions, and we had other classes, and everyone was involved in clubs or Quidditch or something. But she had us moving really quickly through Dark creatures—not the really interesting ones, like werewolves (although that was fair, because we'd talked about them a little in Ethics already), but the more boring ones like basilisks. It was probably important that we learn about them, but I didn't care.

In fact, I'd noticed that my interests had narrowed a lot. I liked herbology, because you needed plants for potions. I liked Arithmancy and Ancient Runes because they were fun—they were like puzzles, and if you just sat and stared at them long enough you could make them make sense—but also because you could use Arithmancy for potions theory, and there were some potions that were only found in Runes, and Professor Snape said you couldn't trust the translators. But all I really cared about was potions—but that was okay, because after all I was going to be a potioneer after I left Hogwarts. Probably I would go on to make new and even more amazing potions. Professor Snape said that if I kept going the way I was, I could expect a top job right out of Hogwarts with my pick of labs. Or I could go into theoretical work, he said, but theoretical work didn't sound like it was half as much fun, and I'd need practical work to back up the theory. I wasn't going to be one of those people who sat in a library all day and decided they knew all about how potions worked by reading what other people did with them.

"Hey," Cameron said, interrupting my train of thought. "I'm confused. So, the book says, quote, You meet a brown canine at the crossroads. It whines and sniffs the air. You are likely dealing with which creature? How should you react to it? Anybody know? I don't remember this one from class."

"Maybe because you weren't paying attention in class," Marissa suggested. "I've noticed you usually don't."

"Are you sure that's even a dark creature?" Hornby asked. "It sounds like a normal dog to me."

"What would a normal dog be doing at a crossroads?" I asked. I didn't like Hornby much. He was loud and full of himself. I had no idea what Lyra saw in him—if I was her, I would have dumped him ages ago, not let him date me for months.

"Just walking, maybe? I don't remember any dark creatures that hang out at crossroads. It's probably a trick question."

"It's probably something Granger didn't mention," I shot back.

"Well, we can check the index and see," Evan cut in patiently. "If it's a dark creature, then one of its characteristics must be crossroads or other places like that."

We checked the index. There was nothing under crossroads, so I looked for anything else that might be sort of similar: gallows, caves, creepy abandoned houses. Nothing there either.

"I think it's just a dog," Evan said. "Good catch, Hornby."

I resisted rolling my eyes. I knew Hornby was probably smirking behind me. What kind of stupid Defense book put normal dogs in? It was pretty much false advertising.

"Hey, can you help us with this potions essay?" Jill Holmes asked me. "Lyra and I are really confused."

"Yeah, sure," I said. Whatever, Hornby could have his trick question. He'd probably get it wrong anyway, and Professor Granger would dock points. I decided to forget about him and concentrate on helping Lyra figure out her essay.

OOOOO

"What was that all about?" Evan asked me later that night. We were sitting in the common room by the fire, trying to get warm. "I thought you were going to take Hornby's head off."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean when he said he thought that question was just a trick question. I thought you were going to hex him or something. Is something going on?"

"No," I said moodily, crumpling up a sheet of parchment and throwing it into the flames. "I just don't like him."

"Why not? He seems pretty decent to me."

"He's a jerk," I said. "He's so full of himself. He's so—so stupid."

Evan looked kind of skeptical.

"And," I said, warming to the subject, "he looks like a goat. He has a really stupid haircut. And his voice is really annoying. I don't know why Lyra would ever want to kiss him, he's gross."

"What, are they back together or something?" he asked.

"What do you mean, back together? They've been together since before Halloween," I said in annoyance.

"I'm pretty sure they broke up like a month ago," Evan said. "Marissa told me when it happened. And he's been flirting pretty hardcore with Lombardi—you know, that girl in Trent's class with us?"

"Yeah, I know who she is," I said. "Wait, though, really? They broke up?"

Evan nodded.

"How come I didn't know about it then?" I couldn't have possibly missed that. I would have noticed if Lyra was single, wouldn't I? Why hadn't she told me?

"You've been kind of distracted," Evan said awkwardly. "And not around very much."

That was probably true, I thought. I'd been with Pernella a lot, and then I'd been freaking out about other people finding out. Still, though…

"But really," Evan was saying, "what's wrong with Hornby?"

"I don't know," I said. I was still caught up in thinking about Lyra. "He's just so—annoying."

Evan was quiet for a little while. Then he said, "Is that it? Does he bother you because he and Lyra were, you know, together?"

I didn't say anything.

"Because," he continued hesitantly, "sometimes people feel really weird things, or do really weird things, because they like someone else. Like, sometimes you get mad at someone because they're talking to the girl you like, even though that's really stupid. People aren't always, you know, rational, when it comes to love."

I shot Evan a look. I knew him well enough to know when he was talking about some general truth and when he was talking about himself. "Are you and Letta…?"

"No," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I mean. Well, she's really young, she's only a second year. And with my parents, I don't—I don't really want to put her in that position. It wouldn't be fair."

"You don't think she likes you?" I was pretty sure she did. They were together all the time and she always let him walk her home. That was the sort of thing you did when you were trying to get someone to kiss you, wasn't it? "Was it your idea to ask me for help with the greenhouses last night?" I asked suspiciously. Had Loretta arranged to be alone with Evan in the greenhouse, only to have me ruin her plans?

"Well, yeah," he said. "We didn't really know what we were doing."

I folded my arms. "Evan," I said. "If you want to date her, and she wants to date you…"

"It wouldn't work. I don't want to come between her and the rest of her family, and she's having enough problems with her house already. I don't want to make our friendship awkward. It wouldn't be fair."

"I think that's the worst excuse I've ever heard," I said.

"What about you? Why haven't you asked Wood out then?"

"That's different," I said. "I can't ask a straight girl out."

"Is…she straight?" Evan asked.

"Uh, yeah," I said. I was sort of disappointed in Evan. Just because a girl played Quidditch didn't mean that she was gay! "But it's sort of frustrating," I said after a moment. "I mean, falling for someone you can't be with."

"Yeah," Evan said with a sigh. "It is, isn't it?"

"Like, is it worse when she touches me? Because I know she doesn't mean anything by it, but on the other hand it makes me really happy, so…"

"Yeah," he said. "She wants me to come for Easter hols."

"She does? You mean to meet her aunt and uncle?"

"Yeah." He didn't sound very happy about it.

"Did she say why?"

"She said she'd miss me," he said, rubbing at his face. "I just feel like—I don't want her to feel like she has to. I mean, because I—I don't want her to feel like she owes me. Because I owed her to start with, so now we're even, I guess."

I took a deep breath. "Evan," I said. "First of all, you don't owe anyone anything because of what your parents did. And secondly, don't tell me you're only friends because you think you owe her something."

"No," he said. "God, no. Just—I don't want her to think she has to date me or anything, because I…I'm not going anywhere. She doesn't have to have a romantic relationship to keep me as a friend."

"Well, that isn't the way to tell her," I said. I wasn't sure what to do about the rest of it. It sounded kind of like Evan had been reading the trashier sort of romance novel—I didn't know anyone who wasn't a character in a book who dated someone out of obligation. "Aren't you going to go for hols?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

Evan's absolute sense of right and wrong was one of the things I liked best about him. He always knew what he should do and he never let himself slip up. But right now I wished he would just relax a little bit. Everyone could see that he and Loretta were practically dating already. "You should go," I said.

"I doubt her aunt and uncle want to meet me."

"Why? They probably know you're like her best friend. And if they know that auror then they know she cares about you, because remember she wouldn't let them talk to you without her there?"

"Yes, I remember that," he said. He was being sarcastic so I threw a piece of parchment at him. "I just don't want her to feel like she has to do anything to keep me," he said seriously. "I don't want her to feel like she's being pressured."

"Maybe you should just ask her."

"Maybe you should just ask Wood."

I glared at him, only to find he was glaring at me too, and we both started laughing. "Yeah, right," I said finally. "Come on, we should go to bed."

Probably, I thought later, when I was finally in bed and starting to drift off, it was a good thing Lyra was straight. If she was gay, and we did get together, I didn't want one of her cousins to hex us. Lyra had a lot of cousins, and once was more than enough.

OOOOOO

On Tuesday evening, I met with Professor Snape again to go over some questions I had about the proper use of basilisk venom in poisons (weirdly enough, ground basilisk skin was really useful in healing potions. There was a rule about this: the deadliest poisons were often made from a plant or an animal that had amazing healing properties in another part or prepared in another way. Mandrakes were the same). "None of the books agree about proper storage methods," I complained. "Reiner thinks it should be frozen; Hipworth says specially reinforced glass bottles; Starkey says you should milk the basilisk fresh each time, but it's not like we have basilisks running around anymore."

Professor Snape leaned back in his chair. "I was wondering when we would hit this point," he said. "Up until now, you have been primarily working on potions that have already been developed and improved; they're textbook-friendly. We don't teach Hogwarts students experimental potions that experts are still debating."

"Except this," I said.

"Right," Professor Snape agreed. "You've now hit a point in your research where the experts don't agree. Basilisk venom is an ingredient in a number of potions, but it's used rarely; basilisks are practically extinct. So no one is entirely sure of the best way to store it—or if, as Starkey argues, it's better to harvest fresh, assuming you can get it. Remember, she lived very deep in the country and seems to have had access to one. It's rare to have that luxury now. Was this in your reading? It's not part of the NEWT curriculum."

"It was in some supplementary reading," I said. The NEWT section on poisons had led me into the theory behind the deadlier ingredients—the ones that made poisons actually poisonous. That in turn had led me to basilisks. "I know it wasn't really relevant, but I got interested."

"Are you focusing on the NEWT material? I don't want you to get caught up in tangential points when you need to be studying for your exam."

"I'm on track," I told him. He had a copy of my timetable, and I saw him reach into his desk and pull it out.

"This says you should be done learning new material by Easter holidays, and onto revising it and re-revising material you already knew."

"Yes, sir. I have just two new sections left, and Easter holidays aren't for three weeks."

"Good," he said. "Keep me informed, Miss Carmichael. Now, I thought we'd look at love potions tonight. Can you prep a cauldron?"

OOOOOOOOOOO

A/N: So this is year six of writing this fic, and I am only on year three in fic-time. At this rate Lydia won't leave Hogwarts until I am practically thirty.

As usual—I don't own this universe, I just like to play in it. Ill Ame and brood saint both beta'd this for me, so you should send lots of lovely thoughts their way. Mistakes are of course mine and not theirs.

I have a huge, huge number of unanswered reviews in my inbox, for which I apologize, but I wanted to say a huge thank you to all of you for your support and your reviews and the fact that you're still reading—I had almost two hundred visitors to this fic last month (thanks, tracker!), which is just really exciting. You guys are the best.