Til The End

~ ~ ~ * * * ~ ~ ~

The rest of the summer passed fairly quickly. Anthony and Una grew somewhat accustomed to each other´s presence in the Delacour-Weasley house, although both sincerely tried to retain the delicate, snarky balance that they´d been used to. It was rather strange and uncomfortable to try to maintain this for the both of them: Anthony was certainly not used to seeing the girl as anything but a rival Quidditch captain and a mouthy Ravenclaw twit any more than Una was used to seeing him as any more than the obnoxious Slytherin git who always called her names. All in all, they were rather quiet around each other, and Gabrielle did most of the talking.

The latter had made Prefect, and at the end of August, everyone made their annual traipse to Diagon Alley for school supplies. Perhaps... or actually probably, it was another of Gabrielle´s machinations, but Anthony and Una, being both sixth year students that year, were left at Flourish and Blotts to find their textbooks together. Silently, the two walked down the aisles and picked up Advanced Charms: Wand-work for the Witty by Hildegarde Bricabrac, Transfiguration: Exploratory Alterations Second Level by Polonius Apgar, Magical Herbs and Fungi from Around The World by Salvia Hortis, before Anthony split off to find the Advanced Potions text and Una, the Astronomy one.

The day passed fairly uneventfully until late in the afternoon, when Anthony had been at the Apothecary to buy extra potions ingredients for Advanced Potions, and Una had been invited by sixth year Gryffindor Seeker Michael Arlington to have some ice cream at Florean Fortescue´s. She had wanted to wait for the others to finish their shopping, but Michael had insisted (very nicely), and so, she went off after informing Fleur.

Somehow, this made Anthony quite sulky for the rest of the day, and no one could get a word out of him on the entire way home. He simply glowered like a thundercloud at everyone in general and Una in particular.

Una decided, with many an eye-roll, that Slytherins were beyond reason and comprehension.

* * *

A fortnight later at the first Prefect meeting of the year, Anthony was stony-faced as he, Malcolm Baddock, fifth year Bertram Wilson, and female Prefects Priscilla Sheridan of fifth year, Alice Thurston of sixth year, and Wendy Davis of seventh year, arrived at the tapestry of the Prefects´ office. The Ravenclaw Prefects were already there, as were the Gryffindor Prefects, and Anthony refused to look at Michael Arlington, Una Markham, or Gabrielle. Instead, he kept his somewhat mutinous face focused on Orla Quirke, the Head Girl, who was looking at them impressively and sternly, and waiting for the Hufflepuff Prefects and Head Boy Owen Caulfield to arrive.

Within minutes, all the Prefects were present, and Orla turned to the tapestry and said, in a clear, authoritative voice and perfect accent, "Meliora Cogito!" I strive for the best. The tapestry rolled up, and everyone filed in after the Head Girl.

Prefect Meetings differed slightly every year, despite the fact that they were spent always discussing the same topics, more or less. However, due to the Head Boy and Head Girl of each year, who presided over the meetings, exactly how the topics were discussed, and which ones were focused on more often, differed to a considerable extent.

Everyone took their seats, and Orla launched immediately into her opening statements. Formally, she introduced herself to the others, most of whom knew her very well already, and then, reminded the fifth years of their upcoming O.W.L.s that year, and her fellow seventh years of the N.E.W.T.s. Everyone nodded rather long-sufferingly, and Orla passed out several copies of neatly-written tutoring schedules for the Prefects, having already assigned the fifth year Prefects their sessions based on teacher recommendations. Una, unsurprisingly, found herself tutoring Astronomy along with Gryffindor Prefect Natalie McDonald, on Wednesday nights, right after Anthony and Gabrielle were to tutor Potions.

After tutoring sessions had been worked out and various passwords decided, Head Boy Owen Caulfield handed out Quidditch schedules for the different teams, and as Una, Anthony, Rae Jordan of Gryffindor and Emma Dobbs of Hufflepuff looked over their schedules, Orla busied herself thumbing over a well-worn copy of the seventh year Defense Against the Dark Arts text, and Gabrielle sat back, watching everything calmly and appraisingly.

Soon, the meeting adjourned, and everyone filed out of the Prefects´ office. Michael Arlington stopped Una for a brief moment before she followed Gabrielle and the rest of the Ravenclaw Prefects towards the Ravenclaw Common Room, asking if it would be all right for her to tutor him in Astronomy now and then. Una nodded calmly, and Michael walked away smiling. The sixth year Ravenclaw Prefect was about to walk away herself when a noise behind her startled her, and she turned to see Anthony Weston scowling blackly at her for a moment before turning on his heel and stalking away without a backwards glance.

Una sighed. So much for thinking that perhaps the two of them might get along this year. Someone had obviously shoved his broomstick up his arse. Pity... he wasn´t all that bad when he was in a decent mood. And moreover... he had the most beautiful, stunning pale blue eyes... OKAY! Una Markham! You´ve OBVIOUSLY gone COMPLETELY daft!

Shaking her head to clear it of the unruly, alarming thoughts, Una walked back to Ravenclaw Tower, fully bent on sleeping everything off and regaining her sanity the next morning.

* * *

Tutoring sessions started in the next week, and the numerous students who went for help with Potions soon learnt to solicit aid from the part-veela Ravenclaw, and not the dark-haired, scowling Slytherin who seemed to have an uncannily vile temper. Gabrielle soon found herself doing almost all of the actual tutoring, as the students, especially the younger ones from houses other than Slytherin, were more or less terrified of her surrogate brother. She would sigh, mutter in French about the stupidity of boys, and make him grade assignments if he was going to be so uncooperative in all other aspects.

Anthony´s scowls invariably grew tenfold at the end of the Potions tutoring sessions, when the Astronomy tutoring sessions began. Perhaps he had something on his mind, or perhaps he, for some unknown reason, felt an intense dislike for Arlington the Gryffindor Seeker, who would come every bloody Wednesday, sometimes so early that he would meet Una Markham in the hall and escort her there like a bloody bootlicking puppy. Anthony did not see the point of this: Natalie McDonald of Arlington´s own house also did tutoring: the prat should just go to her, and leave Markham bloody well alone. None of these thoughts were ever voiced, but Gabrielle, the little brat, seemed to be able to read his mind anyway. She constantly carried a look too smug for anyone´s good.

And so it was, that when the first Quidditch game of the year rolled around, Anthony Weston, Slytherin captain, shook hands briefly with Rae Jordan at the beginning of the match, although his eyes were fixed blazingly and malevolently upon the Gryffindor Seeker, up in the air already, looking down at him with what Anthony fancied to be a superior expression... one that made his blood boil. The bloody Gryffindor sod would get it.

The Quaffle was released, and the game began. Anthony watched in grim satisfaction as his team battled ruthlessly for the Quaffle, and put the first shot past the Gryffindor Keeper. However, Rae Jordan, Chaser and team Captain, caught the Quaffle on the rebound and flew towards him. He narrowed his eyes into ice blue slits, and waited in front of the goal hoops for her approach. He had studied the Gryffindor team´s tactics well... and he knew exactly when, where, and at what angle Jordan would shoot. Accordingly and predictably, he knocked the Quaffle away from the goal hoop a moment before it would have soared through, directly into his fellow sixth year, Chaser Darius Chilton´s hands.

Meanwhile, in the stands, Una and Gabrielle watched the game with great interest. Gabrielle was wearing green, in support of Anthony (and saying that had `´Arry still been ze Seeker for Gryffindor´ she would be supporting the Lions wholeheartedly), and after much cajoling, had made Una do the same. Una felt rather distinctively out-of-place doing so, a Muggleborn supporting that house, but... well, she supposed that... at least not all of them were that bad. And Anthony... he was a good Quidditch player. And that game that they´d played together over the summer was... very nice.

Thirty minutes later, the score was 50:30 in favor of Slytherin, and all of the sudden, both Montague and Arlington took off, streaking across the field towards the Gryffindor goal posts, and through her Omniculars, Una could see the Snitch flitting at the base of the highest hoop.

And then, at that moment, Patrick Bole, Slytherin Beater, hit a bludger directly at the back of Arlington´s head. Arlington did not notice until his teammates´ yells of warning reached him. The Gryffindor Seeker only barely managed to swerve out of the way and thus not get a concussion, but that moment was all that it took for Montague to grab the snitch, and Arlington, distracted and not looking to see where he was going, banged right into the goal post. The Gryffindor Seeker fell to the ground with a cry of pain, with a dislocated shoulder.

The crowd gasped as Dumbledore conjured up a stretcher, and levitated Arlington off the field, and Una´s eyes widened slightly. She was too busy watching Arlington get carted away to notice what Gabrielle had seen. For a brief moment, Anthony Weston´s face broke out in a fleeting smile as he saw Una Markham stand up, her hand over her mouth as she watched the thrice-damned Gryffindor being levitated off, and a Slytherin green silk shawl the color of her eyes wrapped around her slim shoulders. Michael Arlington can rot in hell.

* * *

A day later found Una walking towards the hospital wing before dinnertime, several books in hand. Poor Michael... he was still in the hospital so that his shoulder, after the bones were mended, would heal properly. She was going to visit him, and bring him his O.W.L. preparation book in case he wanted to read over some of the information while he was still stuck in the Infirmary.

Idly wondering if her Transfiguration essay was long enough, she walked down the corridor that led towards the Hospital wing, when a tinkling laugh some distance away stopped her in her tracks. Gabrielle. No one else had that silvery, lilting, accented voice. Well... there was Professor Weasley, but Professor Weasley did not giggle. Curious, Una edged forward slightly.

Gabrielle was leaning against the wall, a smile that commonly drove boys to states of incredible giddiness. Anthony was standing in front of her, one hand propped casually against the column by her head. The two were having some sort of low, earnest conversation, too softly for Una to hear. But... their poses! Anthony and... and Gabrielle?!

But that was not right! Gabrielle had said that there was nothing going on between her and Anthony. Not that she, Una Markham, cared a whit! The Slytherin git could go and... and snog Gabrielle! After all, the fifth year part-veela was angelically beautiful, and half the school wanted her. And... and they weren´t real siblings, so it would be all right! Nothing of it! No big deal at all!

Unaware that her eyes were practically spitting green flames, Una whirled around and walked back to Ravenclaw Tower, Michael and his O.W.L. book entirely forgotten.

* * *

However, the next day, she remembered, and berated herself silently for being such a silly goose. This time consciously looking neither to the left nor right, she focused her entire body on one thing and one thing only: to go to the hospital wing and give Michael his O.W.L. preparation book.

She studiously avoided looking at anyone as she walked slowly from her History of Magic class towards the hospital, and was so successful that she did not notice Anthony Weston at all when she passed him as she walked by the Great Hall. The Slytherin had certainly noticed her though; as she walked within a foot of him, close enough for him to smell her hair. She had an almost dazed look on her face, and Anthony, intrigued, had followed her journey with his eyes. It had only taken him a few seconds to realize where she was headed, and his eyes narrowed.

He recalled Gabrielle´s talk with him the day before. As he should have come to expect by now, Gabrielle was way too observant and straightforward for his comfort. "It is obvious zat you `ave a tendre for `er, Ansony. Why don´t you tell `er `ow you feel?" she had said, and insisted on saying despite his repeated and vehement denials. At last, she had sighed and rolled her eyes exasperatedly.

"Eef you do not get your act togezer, she will go wis someone else, you know. Zat Arlington from Gryffindor seems vairy interested," she had said before turning around and walking away.

He hated... HATED how that little part-veela chit was always infuriatingly right.

And that night, it was his turn to storm back to his common room in high dudgeon and sulk for the remainder of the night.

* * *

A few days later, Michael Arlington was out of the hospital wing and back in classes. In Potions class, which the sixth year Slytherins and Gryffindors happened to have together, Snape, who seemed to have a very twisted, sadistic sense of humor, partnered him up with Anthony, supposedly so that his star student would be able to make sure that their potion didn´t mess up, even though Arlington had missed two class periods and therefore was not familiar with what they were doing.

Both boys worked in stony silence, glaring daggers at each other, opening their mouths only to snap requests such as "Hand over the bloody bee-balm" and "Put in the forsythia roots, idiot". Michael was quite understandably miffed about the bludger that the Slytherin team had pelted at him, and moreover... Una, the poor thing, had been rather down during her visits, and he was fairly sure, just from what he´d seen at past Prefect meetings, the reason why.

By the time that Potions class was finally over and their rejuvenating draught had been approved of by Snape, both were more or less in a towering rage at each other, though barely a word had been exchanged.

All hell broke loose in the hallway. As soon as he had passed out of the danger zone of the corridor of Snape´s classroom, Michael made a rather spiteful comment to Anthony about his team and the dirty tactics that they´d employed to grant them the win of the last Quidditch game.

Anthony sneered, "Isn´t the opposing team supposed to try to stop the rival Seeker when he´s after the Snitch? If you can´t handle bludgers, you shouldn´t be playing. And besides, it was absolutely your own obvious lack of skill that caused you to slam into the goal post like a demented donkey." Bloody Gryffindor git... what did he think he was, to lecture him about Quidditch? Besides, he got to stay in the hospital attention and revel in the attention of... certain parties. It wasn´t as if the consequences of the Quidditch injury were terrible.

Michael looked at the Slytherin Prefect´s sneering face, the lip curled in derision. And why in the world would Una get upset over this prat, he had no idea. He concluded that Anthony must be terrorizing his Astronomy tutor, what with all the scowls and glares he sent at her, and recalled the times in the past when Anthony used to call her horrible names. "Ruddy Slytherin bastard... you lot are all the same. No good´ll ever come out of any of you."

For a moment, Anthony gave an almost-imperceptible flinch, remembering that day, those years ago, when father had brought the news of `Risse´s death and the circumstances surrounding it. And then, his voice cold and lethal, he spoke to the Gryffindor in a menacing hiss, "Say that again, Arlington... and so help me Merlin you will not have any tongue left to say a word. I´ll tear it out and pickle it for Snape."

Michael smirked. Figures, Weston would be one of those little bootlickers cowering behind Snape and getting away with rot because the head of his house was a slimy git. "Smarmy Snape-loving sycophant."

Gryffindor courage had the tendency, at times, to cross the line into Gryffindor reckless stupidity. This seemed to be one of the times, for Arlington suddenly found himself with Anthony´s hands around his neck, choking him. The Slytherin wore a positively deadly expression on his face.

But before any further damage could be done, two separate pairs of hands pulled both grappling boys back and away from each other. Michael looked behind him, and saw Una´s frowning face. Gabrielle had her hand on Anthony´s arm.

"´Onestly, you two are Prefects!" the youngest of the four piped up, sniffing slightly, "I can´t believe zis, fighting in ze `allway... eef you evair do zat again, Ansony..." Gabrielle rolled her eyes, then, with surprising strength, dragged Anthony away from Una and Michael.

Una watched as the blonde girl led Anthony away, and it was all she could do to stop her face from crumpling. Why did Gabrielle have to be so adroit and... beautiful? Michael turned to her to apologize for the scene in the hallway, but the words died before they even came out when he saw Una´s face. Carefully blank, but watching where Anthony and Gabrielle had stood a moment ago with sad, wistful eyes. It took him perhaps half a minute to comprehend that look, and he shook his head slightly. Girls... daft, really. And the git was after the part-veela. Not knowing quite what to say, he gave her a comforting pat on the arm, and slowly walked off, leaving Una to stand there, mutely dazed and slightly heartbroken.

Gabrielle, meanwhile, had dragged Anthony all the way to the Prefects´ office, where they´d have some sort of privacy. Anthony watched sullenly as she paced restlessly back and forth in front of him. Why the devil had she pulled him away? Arlington needed to be taught a lesson! Belatedly, he realized that Gabrielle was addressing him. "What?"

"It seems like sings will get vairy extreme eef you don´t take action soon, cherie."

Anthony blinked.

"Oh, you stupid, stupid men! Can´t do anything wisout us women... I am saying, you `ave to do somesing about zis situation wis Una!"

"She seems happy," Anthony ground out. Gabrielle glared at him and let out a string of French words that, from what he´d learnt at the Delacour-Weasley house, were not very pleasant.

"Oui, and zat is why she sits around and sulks in ze common room and gives me strange looks because she sinks zat I am wis you... ze girl is as jealous of me as you are of Arlington... and don´t even SINK of denying it, Ansony Weston, I am not an idiotte!" Gabrielle retorted. Anthony gaped at her, but she gave him a quelling look and he remained silent, turning this information around in his head.

She resumed her pacing, muttering to herself, and then, grinned wickedly, "You need to be tutored in Astronomy."

"WHAT?!"

"Oh, you `eard me! You´re atrocious at ze subject anyway. What could be better? You and `er can talk alone in ze evening. Professor Sinistra trusts `er enough so zat she would not bozer you two in ze Tower, and zen, you can work sings out." Gabrielle said quickly, "And eef you don´t... I´ll tell Fleur `oo really keeled zat rosebush dive-bombing on a broomstick."

Anthony glared at her, "Brat."

"Oh, you will sank me for it later," she replied calmly.

* * *

"How did I get roped into this again?" Una wondered idly to herself as she walked up the steps to the Astronomy Tower, Anthony following close behind.

He´d approached her after the Prefect meeting that day, asking rather brusquely if she would help him study for an Astronomy exam. Before she knew what she was about, she had agreed, and made an appointment to meet him by the Prefects´ office that night at ten. Why she even bothered when he was together with Gabrielle... she had no idea.

Oh well, it was too late and useless to scold herself for being daft. She might as well get this over with, and try not to be uncomfortable around him. At least he was not glaring at her for no apparent reason any more, though he seemed rather preoccupied. Una shrugged. Probably worried about tests or Quidditch games or something.

Within minutes, they were on the observation deck of the Astronomy Tower, and she started pointing out the constellations that they were required to know for the test. Anthony listened with half an ear as he watched her. In the starlight, she came alive, truly alive. Her catlike eyes gleamed, and she moved her hands in the air. She did not have manicured, well-kept hands like a lot of the other girls he knew. Her nails were shortly clipped for Quidditch, the fingers long and slim and strong. But graceful, though not languidly so. It was interesting what one could notice when one was somewhat... daft.

"Here, you can come and take a look at Vega through the telescope," she beckoned him to stand next to her at the window. She had set up the telescope that he´d given her right next to the large one that Professor Sinistra kept there, and was looking through it.

Anthony, wondering mildly if he were drugged and making a mental note to confront Gabrielle about that suspicion (for certainly, no one else was conniving and crazy enough to drug him) later on, walked towards her, and stopped right behind her. He was close enough to her that their robes brushed.

He reached down to focus the telescope, that was really his intention... but a cold, uninteresting piece of machinery held much less interest than the sloppy, quickly-falling-down-from-its-bun brown hair at the nape of her neck. And before he had realized what he was going about, he had buried his fingers in her hair, twirling the soft strands idly, then tugging gently. The bun tumbled down entirely, and Una froze.

"W-what... are you doing?" Una slowly turned around, her eyes wide, and mentally berated herself for how breathy and weak her voice had sounded at that moment.

"I don´t know," came the honest answer. And then, a ramble, "I´m not with Gabrielle. And I hope that you´re not with Arlington. Because if you are, well... he annoys me. And I don´t want to see you two together. It irritates me to no end and..."

"And who do you think you are to decide who I associate with?" Una managed to gain a portion of her spirit, and glared at him somewhat.

"No one. I don´t know. But..." he looked down, almost... dare she say it? Embarrassed. But then, he met her eyes again, and his face was adamant, "Just don´t become his girl."

He was playing with her hair again. Una bit her lip. All right... keep cool, Markham... "Why would you care?" she asked carefully.

"Because I want you to be my girl."

Her eyes widened, and she stilled. Una felt her cheeks heat up despite the chill of the tower. "Oh..."

"Well?" He was looking at her, his face unreadable, his hand stilled at the side of her face, the fingertips still caressing the wings of her hair.

"You had bloody better never get together with my Seeker," she suddenly whispered fiercely. She gave him a mutinous look through emerald eyes, and Anthony felt a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "If you ever get together with Gabrielle, I will hate you forever and ever."

"Then if I don´t get with her, I should safely assume that you will love me forever and ever," he drawled. She blushed, getting some of her spirit back.

"I never said any such thing, Anthony Weston, you conceit-- mph!" Una felt her protest cut off as he cupped her chin with surprisingly gentle hands and touched her lips with his. Her eyes widened for a moment, then fluttered closed as his other hand came to rest upon her waist and draw her closer to him. Not knowing quite what she was doing, but acting entirely upon instinct, she reached up her own hands and twined them around his neck, standing on tiptoe to reach him.

A few moments later found Una backed against the wall, his face buried in her neck, her hands clutching his shoulders for dear life. Her hair was entirely loose and mussed, and his was brushing against the side of her face as he nibbled on her neck for a moment longer, before returning to her lips.

And then, the door opened, and a shrill, outraged shriek of, "Good Lord!" reached their ears.

Anthony slowly pulled away and turned around to see Orla Quirke, the Head Girl, standing at the door, arms akimbo and face outraged.

"HONESTLY! You two, what type of example are you setting for the younger students? You´re PREFECTS, and you´re snogging in the Astronomy Tower!"

Anthony looked at Una, who was still partially hidden behind him, her face full of shock, her lips dewy, and then turned back to Orla with a grin. "All right then, I will remember only to snog her during Prefect meetings from now on, so that younger students won´t have a chance of seeing us," he drawled. Orla threw her hands in the air in frustration, and stomped off.

An enchanted sort of silence seemed to befall the two of them. Una was blushing, and Anthony was silently exulting to himself that she was not with Arlington, nor would she ever be. And then, he looked at her, and his grin widened.

"Oh dear... you´ve a hickey."

Una´s eyes widened to saucer-like size. "W-what? Oh no! Everyone will see it... what if I run into someone on my way back to Ravenclaw?"

Anthony chuckled, and reached into his robe pocket. A moment later, he extracted his scarf, green and silver, and wrapped it carefully around her neck, hiding the evidence.

"There."

"A Slytherin scarf?" Una felt herself beginning to smile.

He nodded firmly, "Indeed. Keep it. If Arlington sees it, he´ll know that you´re mine," he informed her matter-of-factly.

And Una Markham, for the first time in her life, found herself giggling.