The girl and boy sit in a corner of the grounds, completely concealed by bushes. It is cold out, and fairly late, but they like the cold and the later hour and it means no one will bother them.

The girl is a Hufflepuff, and further more a half-blood; the boy, a Slytherin. By rule they should not even be on speaking terms: but they are nearly fourth-years, and on more than just speaking terms.

"Ni-ick." The girl tosses a small ball up in the air and snaps her fingers at it. She has long honey-coloured hair and her eyes are hazel.

"Fla-avia," Nick responds in the same manner, grinning slightly. He draws his wand and points it at the ball: it drops into his waiting palm. He has very short light brown hair and blue eyes.

Flavia turns her face lazily towards his. "Remind me how we met."

Nick closes his eyes and says, "One of my friends hexed one of your friends."

"Poor Hera was never quite the same again," Flavia sighs.

"I offered her a hand up," Nick continues, an arm snaking around Flavia's waist.

"I tried to hex your friend," Flavia persists. "Bat-Bogey hex."

Nick casts her a stern glance. "Yes, well. It went wide, and hit me."

"The friend who hexed Io got me-"

"With the Full Body-Bind," Nick finishes.

"And we end up in beds next to each other," Flavia murmurs, leaning into Nick's embrace. "I seem to remember your first words to me were, What, Not You Again."

"Well, yours were something on the lines of Dammit Where's My Wand."

Nick stands up and holds a hand out for Flavia.

"We gotta go," Flavia says sadly, "Or Fiona will miss me. See you in Potions tomorrow. Don't forget to be obnoxious." She kisses him and runs for the castle.

And so the angel bored to hell and the devil meaning well met.

A year later, Flavia sits at a desk in the Room of Requirement. Her dark blonde head is bent over coursework. The weather outside- a rattling hailstorm, eerie without sound –is projected onto a spotless white wall. "So... if Bellatrix and the star in the right-hand bit of the right-hand claw of the Scorpion thingy connect..." she mutters, drawing a line between the two points on a painstakingly hand-drawn map.

Suddenly, Nick bursts in. Flavia squeaks and jumps. "Nick! You startled me- what is it?" she asks quickly, taking in his ruffled hair and distressed eyes. She rises from the chair and takes him by the shoulders. "Nick!"

Nick drops into the chair, rising only to remove a quill from its seat. "They found out," he whispers. "They found out..."

"Oh, Nick," Flavia says, pulling up another chair. "I won't ask how."

Nick raises tortured blue eyes to her face. Tears shine in his eyes and answering tears spring to her own; she has known for a long time that this is coming. The suspicion in her friends' eyes; the attempts to set her up, politely rebuffed.

"You know what we have to do." Nick choked the words out with an effort.

"Yes." Flavia begins to cry unashamedly. She turns away from Nick with a palpable effort and sweeps things into her bag.

Tomorrow, in Potions, they will be simply Nick Sharp and Flavia Sarabande, a Slytherin and a Hufflepuff between whom there is an uneasy truce.

The hidden inscription on a tree trunk somewhere in Hogwarts' grounds will be left for someone else to find, although its words, composed by Flavia and carved by Nick, are engraved on their minds:

Flavia Sarabande and Nick Sharp

Forever

Or As Long As Fate Allows Us.

And so the angel bored to hell and the devil meaning well parted.

Forever? Perhaps.

Perhaps not.