A/N: I'M SORRY IK ITS BEEN FOREVER. Please say you haven't forgotten about me?

My goal is to finish this fic before summer's end. There ( not counting this one) are 2 chapters left in this fic. I may or may not do an extra one to disclose all/some the information (in a small story chapter type way) about what happens to some of the characters after this adventure, but I probably wont.

Be warned: This is the hardest chapter I've ever written from this fic.

! PLEASE READ THE A/N at the bottom after finishing! (it contains some spoilers so I suggest only after finishing) for some explanation regarding choices made in this chapter.

My beta is nowhere to be found so I apologize if there are any typos in this chapter. I'll try to fix them to the best of my ability when the fic has concluded for future viewers.

Hope you enjoy!

-lauralydney

Chapter 26

If screaming into your pillow counted as progress, Harry was making plenty.

"You had her, mate."

He screamed some more.

"You just had to say four words. Four words."

Darren was right. Harry didn't think 'wanna be my date?' would be the biggest tongue-twister in history.

Maybe if he walked out of the room everyone would just have forgotten what happened?

How long had it been? Maybe the coast was clear now.

I need to apologize to Amber.

Though, technically it had been an accident.

There was a knock at the door.

A small creaking sound let Harry know Darren was at least being cautious on who he was letting in their dorm.

I sacrifice myself to the witch hunters. Just take me already.

The door slammed open.

Harry heard an impatient sigh, and then his covers were roughly ripped away.

No. His prayer hadn't been answered.

"Oh for the love of—get up!"

"Boys dorm, Hermione!"

"School is in peril, Harry! There is no time for moping around. You have to train the D.A. Come on; we're all waiting for you."

Why did she have to be right all the time?

Even though she was, the thought of leaving his bed, using his cursed powers that got him in to more trouble than needed, and then arriving at detention with Cole again was too much.

Just when he thought more yelling was coming, a gentle hand was placed on his back. "You can fix things with Amber later, okay? But right now we need you."

Harry lifted his head and slowly stood.

The universe had never given him quite time. There was no reason to think it would start now.

Walking down the hallway to the D.A room, the thought struck him that—if he survived—they would all laugh at this morning one day. Wishful thinking at its best perhaps?

Yes, one day. Not today.

Some of the D.A members did laugh and whisper when they though Harry wasn't looking. It didn't really bother him—he expected this much—but all throughout the lesson the soda soaked, disgusted, and enraged face of Amber remained him in the back of his mind. The haunting grew with every ticking second.

Even when finishing the last of the fence with Cole, the numbness from the embarrassment took over. He didn't bother picking up the brush or opening the can of paint. Harry simply waved his wand over the wood, finishing the job.

Cole about fainted at first, thinking that Harry would turn the weapon on him. Realizing what happened he said, "You couldn't have done that yesterday?"

"Here—"Harry threw a balled up paper—"free dance ticket."

"You asking me out, Potter?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Flattered, but it's more of a 'keep your mouth shut' gift."

The dwarf smirked, knowing this was about Amber. He was one of the few who knew what really happened back in the cafeteria.

Cole shook his head. "Too bad. I happen to have plans that day."

Somehow the muggles convinced Harry to go to the dance anyway.

Not that he liked the idea of using his ticket, but Linda and Hermione refused to let him sit in his room watching anime with Mike and Darren all day. When they had found the empty ice cream buckets they went ballistic.

The power of women was beyond his comprehension.

One minute you're calmly lying in bed relaxing. An iron hard mindset to remain sedentary in peaceful forgetfulness. The next minute you're wondering how they dragged three fifteen-year-old guys to go dress shopping with them.

"It's a Halloween ball. You're supposed to be scary," Darren complained when glancing at the fifth outfit Linda had tried on.

"Fairies can't be scary," Linda said, fixing the lace on her purple satin dress.

"Ever met one?" Ron objected.

Linda's face lit up. "You guys have? That's insane! What do they look like?"

"You're missing the wings," Ron told her. "But other than that, your size fits the picture."

Linda rolled her eyes. "Harry, what do you think?"

The young wizard smiled, first at the drooling Michel Harris, then at Linda, "you look nice."

Hermione came out wearing a simple blue cotton dress.

"You guys really aren't getting the whole Halloween thing, are you?" Darren complained.

"Quit being so impatient," Hermione said. "We aren't even half way done here. Accessories make all the difference between a dress and a costume."

The mall was bizarre to Ron most of all. After Linda and Hermione decided on their dresses, they walked around some, partially out of boredom, and partially to keep Harry from going back under the bed covers.

There were so many stores with useless yet suddenly necessary things. Does your dog need a self-tossing ball machine? Well, he does now! Why not by a dog at the next store to go with it as well?

Harry smiled for the first time all day when they walked by the pet store. Maybe Sirius needed a pal.

"Did you see that?" Ron said to Harry. "They're selling fancy chunks of wood on wheels."

"You've never ridden a skateboard?" Mike scoffed. "And I thought I had a crappy childhood."

"You're the one who's never ridden a broom," Ron said.

"Last I checked that's just a chunk of wood with hair."

Harry and Ron both glared at Harris.

"How. Dare. You."

"Yeah, Mike," Darren said. "You're just saying that because you've never ridden a broom."

"You have?" Linda asked.

She looked accusingly at Harry and Ron. "When were you going to let us in on all this secret fun?"

"Oh, look!" Harry said, pointing to a random store. "A thing!"

Linda and Hermione went away to buy more accessories, trusting Ron, Mike, and Darren to keep Harry from going back to moping.

It wasn't long before he found himself looking down a steep path downhill outside the mall parkway, holding the stupid chunk of wood on wheels—a skateboard.

"Wizard's fix broken bones easily, right Ron?"

Ron nodded at Darren, dreading his turn.

Harry was willing to bet it wasn't as easy as Mike had made it look.

"Okay, since this is your first time, make sure not to wave back and forth with your back and torso too much. The balance is mostly in the feet. Don't put so much body effort into it because you'll fall. Oh, and bend your knees. Simple enough, right?"

"Can't I practice on level ground first?"

"Nonsense! We haven't got all day. Besides, the best way to learn is by jumping right into the action."

Harry went forward and did as Mike instructed, only to wipe out a meter down the hill.

Over and over again Harry tried, obtaining new scrapes and bruises each time. Ron talked his way out of doing it.

It appeared Mike was completely okay with them being so terrible at it, given that his sole purpose—as Harry found out—was showing off some more after they failed.

They sat down under the shade of a nearby tree, waiting for the girls.

A single leaf fell on Harry's head. The month was coming to an end.

"The ball is tomorrow," he said to himself. "And we leave on Friday."

Mike and Ron had been arm wrestling, but quickly came to a halt. Darren stopped staring into space, those words bringing him crashing down, out of his artistic fantasies, and back to reality. Thinking about the different shades on the autumn leaves, and the twist and turns of branches, Harry guessed was what passed through Darren's mind.

"Yeah," Darren frowned. "Back to magic school, huh?"

"It's been only a month. You can't leave!" Mike pushed Ron down on the grass as if it were his fault. "There's so many stupid muggle nonsense I haven't showed you!"

"I can't believe it's only been a month. I feel like we've known you guys forever."

"Don't go crying on me, Darren," Harry said, elbowing him.

"Stuff it, witch."

"You guys will visit, right?" Mike asked. His face had a forced calmness. Like a teacher feigning that everything was under control in front of the Headmistress. Pretending that he wouldn't miss them was a worse attempt than Harry's at skateboarding.

"Definitely," Harry said without thinking. If I don't die, that is.

"Will we ever be able to visit you?" Darren asked.

Harry and Ron exchanged a glum look. "You're not even supposed to know about us. I wish you could."

"There's so many things I want to show you too," Ron told them. "Like going to Quidditch games."

"Wizards chess," Harry said.

"My brothers' prank shop."

It grew quite. The only sound was that of the rustling leaves and soft wing. A barrier surrounded them. An invisible division between muggle and wizard. For the first time since meeting Mike and Darren, Harry could finally see it. They could never truly cross it.

Linda and Hermione came back with various shopping bags, giggling with bubbly excitement. The barrier was around them too.

The garden outside Linda's house sold out the interior; a place for everything and everything in its place. There was hardly any grass or flowers. Any existent plant life was in white, rectangle pots, all the leaves, thorns, and grass trimmed to straight perfection.

Instead of soft pastures with thick, lively bushes, the floor was made of Bavarian castle stone, like a previous warning for the arrivals to remove their shoes once inside.

In all honestly, the lot didn't look that big, but the perfectly painted white walls, pristine windows, and intimidating corbel arch door made it clear to any bystander that pride was a thing this household wore well.

Linda had a gift for fashion design. To her parent's distaste, she used it to feed her anime addiction by recreating outfits of their favorite characters—cosplay fan is what Darren had called it.

With just a few touches on their new outfits, she would make them the best costumes the Halloween Ball had ever seen.

Linda rang the doorbell. A petit man with round, bottle sized glasses answered the door. He had a jet-black chin beard, thick eyebrows, a gray mechanics t-shirt, black pajama pants and white slippers. His head was slightly bald in the front, but his features remained youthful.

A bright smile appeared on his face when he saw Linda. "I was wondering when you'd come around here again!"

Then a frown. "Darren, Harris. I see you've come back."

"We're really sorry about—"

"Yes, yes, I've heard."

Guilt crossed Linda's original smile before she hugged him. "Dad," she said after pulling away. "These are my new friends, Hermione, Harry, and Ron."

Mr. Nyguen shook each of their hands, lasting a bit longer on Hermione. "Linda's told me all about you on the phone. It's nice that my daughter finally has a girl friend."

Harry felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. The way the man's eyes sparkled when laid upon his daughter's reminded him that because of him, her father had almost lost her forever.

Linda led them through the living room—a white leather set of sofas surrounding a glass tea table and a Bavarian stone fireplace. No TV or livid colors in sight—to the pull down attic stairs in the hall of portraits.

"We can be as loud as we want up there," she told the wizards. "Plus it's my new room."

The attic wasn't you're typical dusty, cobweb filled nightmare. The wooden floor was slick clean and anime posters bombarded the walls. Stacks of books were scattered on the floor near the pink beanbag chairs and a single TV.

Only the mattress and the nightstand with a purple-orange lava lamp gave knowledge to any newcomer of this being someone's room rather than hipster lounge.

There was about one or two family pictures on the shelves, but the rest were of her, Mike, and Darren. Harry's eyes stopped on a single photograph of a younger Linda with braces and pigtails. She was eating ice cream next to a pretty, black haired girl with even darker eyes.

Harry did a double take. He knew that girl. Or at least seen her before. From where, he did not know.

He thought back to all the muggles in his classes to see which one she might be, but came back emptyhanded. If it weren't for the lack of freckles, she could've been Emily.

"What was all that about?" Hermione asked Linda.

"My dad doesn't trust boys. He wanted to send me to an all-girls school, but I wanted to study where my brother had."

"Not that, the think with Mike and Darren."

"Oh, that." Mike began to laugh, but Linda glared it out of him. "Last break we snuck Linda out to an anime convention in town. Her parents forbid her from going to such an absurd waste of time. You bring shame on family, Linda! Sham—ouch!"

"They broke a window trying to get my attention."

"Hey, throwing rocks at windows always works in movies," Darren said.

Harry, Ron, and Mike sat on the bean bags, Darren and Hermione on the bed, and Linda got to work on their costumes.

The conversations went on for what felt like hours. First they got to talking on all the rumors and gossip of Walker High.

"No, Andrew and Emily aren't dating. Are you kidding? They'd kill each other before the honeymoon stage," Darren told Hermione.

"Wipe that smile off your face, Harry," Hermione said.

Then it took a turn to anything and everything about Hogwarts.

"What the hell do you mean there's no internet?" Mike said.

"No television either." Hermione told him.

"You at least have Mp3s right?"

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Have a what?"

"Forget that," Linda said over the rattle of the sewing machine. "How dense do you think we are? A talking hat that reads minds? Drugs are bad, kids."

"Who made up those names anyway?" Mike smirked. "Gryffindorks. . Slytherwimps. You make it too easy."

After watching This Boy's Life, the talk turned to storytelling with the TV as a buzzing background noise on the muggle news channel

It was a miracle neither of Linda's parents came upstairs to make them keep it down.

"Turned him into a ferret! That's gold."

"That's not even the best part. Then they made him—"

Harry's phone buzzed. It was Amber.

He flipped it open, unsure what to expect. Maybe she wanted to talk about what happened? If that was the case, he should probably hang up.

The memory flashed in Harry's mind, reliving the embarrassment a second time in a span of seconds.

Harry sat in the lunch table, Amber and the rest of lunchroom's inhabitants' eyes on him.

His mouth was dry, and all Harry wanted to do was run. So much for that brave Gryffindor pride.

Say it. Just say it. "Will you—I mean, if you want—maybe go...Uh, Would you like to go to the dance—" Amber's eyes light up in shock for a millisecond. It happened too fast. She knew what the boy was struggling to ask.

Abort mission! Abort mission!

"—with Darren?"

Silence.

It may have been Harry's imagination, but did Amber look...disappointed?

Her eyes turned to Darren who's jaw was hanging open, looking like he was about to pull off the most epic face palm in history.

"I—" Amber began.

A hand slammed down on the table. The muggle that Harry had pelted with water balloons stared fixatedly at Harry and then cackled. "Oh come on!"

"Priceless! Absolutely priceless. This is by far the worse failed attempt of them all."

"Henry—"

"No, really, sweetheart. Of all the boys that asked you out so far, this dweeb wins. Way to throw your friend under the bus there. Too bad she's already agreed to go with me."

"When did I—"

"Oi! Malfoy! You were right, Potter's was basically drooling. Owe you £3, right?"

That's when the second explosion of the year took place, this time, a bit less target coordinated.

Anger manifests itself differently each time. When Draco had teased Harry about soccer, the veins in his hands pulsed with the desire to rip out Malfoy's throat.

This time, however, it wasn't really Henry or Malfoy he wanted to slaughter, but rather everything around him. The mortification of the situation had him at the same level of anger and fear as if he'd accidentally thrown himself off a cliff. Anger at his stupidity, anger at the damn cliff, but overall fear of death.

Just like the swirling madness, the water bottle exploded, drenching most everyone at the table, sparing Harry.

Yes. It was just water. No big deal.

The problem was Amber's once decent white shirt turned into a translucent—nearly transparent—window of her...Let's just they it was bright pink, and knowing her, probably matched her underwear.

Someone pointed.

It was too late.

People laughed.

She ran.

Harry ran, but the opposite way.

"It's Amber," Harry told them before putting the phone to his ear.

"Tell her I'm not interested," Darren said.

Luckily, the voice wasn't the cheerleaders. "Harry?"

"Lavander? Why are you calling from Amber's phone? Is Amber okay?"

"Mostly, yeah."

"She's hurt?"

"Not too badly. But that's not important. Are you with Ron and Hermione?"

"Yes, why?"

"Amber called for a meeting. I told her only you're allowed to do that, but she wouldn't listen. We're all in the D.A room now—"

"You guys can handle her. I don't have time to babysit."

"That's not it, she found something."

Harry paused, waiting for Lavender to continue.

"Amber found the Lab."

An endless drizzle of rain tapped lightly on the roof of the attic. When Amber arrived in a worn out, the sound had become the batter of Niagara Falls, echoing to the beat of the sewing machine.

In all the excitement, Linda had not stopped working.

Her mom had lead Amber to the attic. Scrunching up her nose at the messy area, she shut the door behind her.

Amber sat on the bed. Her cuts, as Lavander had explained were already healed thanks to the D.A. It was no secret that the girl had been in the lab to the W.S.S. Though she'd retrieved more than enough information on their enemies, a near capture experience had caused her to break a window and bust out.

That cheerleader, Harry thought, never failed to surprise him.

Not much had been said on the phone other than "Amber says she'll be right over".

Her face was ashen, like she'd just seen a ghost.

Amber didn't bother with polite greetings or any acknowledgment of the muggles. Instead, she reached in her back pack and pulled out several files and handed them to Harry.