Several weeks before exams began, a poster was pinned to the school noticeboard, attracting a huge crowd in the Great Hall foyer. The Hogwarts Annual Picnic was scheduled for the last Saturday of May; a brief treat before exam fever gripped the school. Each year group was assigned a tutor and several staff members, with the picnics being held at different locations throughout the forests. Partly rigorous exercise, since the round trip was upwards of ten miles and partly to act as a bonding experience. To remind everyone while they were deep in study, that a world still existed beyond the library walls. The poster showed a group of students walking across heather moorland; some were deep in a forest feeding a unicorn and others were racing sticks in a stream. Dippet smiled serenely from the top left, occasionally raising an eyebrow. It was a poster which took several minutes to fully appreciate.

Vivian traced her finger along the text at the bottom. 'First form — in the care of Professor Beery — will picnic at The Adder Stones of White Moon, deep in the Forbidden Forest.'

'That's a shame about Herbert Beery,' Gary added. 'We'll get lost and have to eat each other to survive.'

'My study please, Mr Box.'

Beery was reading the poster further back. Everyone remained silent and Beery bounced on the balls of his feet for a moment or two; then he clasped both hands behind his back and followed Gary over the viaduct.

On the Saturday of the picnic, first formers were the last to depart. They had the least distance to travel, plus Beery was still busy organising their picnic cart. Hauled by a pair of thestrals, the cart was ancient, rugged and piled high with food for seventy-five pupils.

Betty spent several hours getting ready in Vivian and Eudoras' dormitory, high up in the Ravenclaw Tower. On sunny mornings, light streamed through the latticed windows, while dust slowly rotated in its beams. It was a comfortable, happy place for her and kept homesickness at bay. Something she struggled with in the dungeons of Slytherin.

Betty had lent Eudora a skirt she'd bought in Paris; despite her protesting it was far too beautiful for the forest. A bold, floral print, dark blue with pale pink roses; Eudora's mouth opened when she saw it, but her immediate reaction was to retreat for safety's sake. 'I shouldn't, it might catch on a thorn.'

'It doesn't suit me, but it's just right for you,' Betty insisted. 'Hang on a moment.'

Betty stood behind Eudora and took her plaits: hanging down on either side. She passed them over Eudora's head and using hairpins, secured them on either side.

'You have a beautiful neck. You really shouldn't hide it.'

Eudora was transfixed by her reflection. She almost looked sophisticated; as if some of Betty's effortless style had rubbed off on her.

'Dora, they're gonna love that,' Vivian said. 'Now, shake a leg, or you'll be keeping the spooks company.'

Eudora wasn't sure who they were.

A trail of students followed Professor Beery, with his flame-coloured, frizzy sideburns quivering in the breeze. Beery always smiled, not from contentment, but nerves. At any moment, whatever he was doing might self-destruct; taking everyone down with it. He was accompanied by Dorothy Cronin and Ludmilla Onegin, all three of whom had a passion for the dramatic arts. You might say they enjoyed each other's company, because few others cared to know them, but that was only partly true. All three lived and breathed for muggle theatre. During the holidays, Dorothy Cronin — with her muggle connections — frequently organised trips for them to London's West End.

Their motley crew also included Klebhorn, who was attached to Hogwarts' support staff. He'd lived at the castle for over thirty years and no one — including himself — had any idea of his age. Around seven feet tall and thin as a rake; he also had the strength of ten men. Klebhorn helped in the kitchens, assisted the caretaker and roamed around the castle: a solution in search of a problem. It was rumoured that he couldn't speak and was confined to Hogwarts for stealing babies, but that was just teenage cruelty at work. His thick, unkempt hair and imploring eyes, gave him a tortured appearance, but he was always gentle, hard-working and reliable.

Setting off at nine-thirty, they took a ten minute break at eleven, then pushed on again. The cart's wheels stuck several times, but Klebhorn heaved it out of the ruts with little difficulty or fuss.

The forest was at its most dense as the sun passed overhead and dozens of pupils were now losing the will to live. They crested a ridge and finally their destination lay before them: a plateau, more than a hundred feet above the valley floor. Towering pines behind the back wall, drooped in the heat and a waterfall cascaded over the rock face: providing a rumbling soundtrack and ground-level rainbows. The plateau was bathed in sunshine, while insects warbled in the heat. A clutch of adder stones: round boulders with holes through their centres, littered the plateau surface. Adder stones were the work of lone serpents, piercing the boulders with their tongues. Moss and lichens covered their surface, giving them an ancient, sponge-like texture and sprays of wild flowers and daisies, swayed between the tree roots.

Klebhorn unpacked the cart, cracking open immense blankets and guiding them in controlled flutters to the grassy surface. Most students took their shoes and socks off, then squeezed the grass between their toes.

The house-elves of Hogwarts' kitchen — as usual — had produced a range of tasty morsels. Cold pork lattice and Cumberland pies; bridies; wheels of mature cheddar; three dozen cottage loaves; Scotch eggs; homemade coleslaw; tomatoes; cucumber and celery from the kitchen greenhouses. Oat crackers; sausage and sage rolls; cheese scones; potato salad; spiced aubergine flan; Arbroath smokies and pumpkin juice. Strawberry tart; individual cherry cakes; Battenberg; Victoria sponge; chocolate-dipped ring doughnuts and fruit salad. The chatter died away as everyone tucked in. None of it would keep, so everyone was encouraged to eat until it was gone. Exercise from the walk, was an excellent excuse to push the boat out.

Gary and Tom were on the same rug as Vivian, Eudora and Betty, but sitting on opposite corners. Beside Tom were: Daniel Joshi; Brian Downer; J.P. Magwaza; George Emery and Dougie Kernow. Gary sat cross-legged with his back to the girls.

Eudora and Betty had finished eating and were resting their backs against an adder stone. They got around to the subject of summer holidays and the imminent war; there was a possibility that they might not be able to return to school, but who knew for sure? Most didn't want to face the prospect of a war, so they looked for any opportunity to change the subject. Betty confided that she felt at home in their surroundings for the first time. Eudora's first thought was to chime in: me too. However, her friend was wrestling with something; turning the conversation towards herself, would be inappropriate. Betty glanced at Tom.

'I'm going to miss everyone.' Then the idea of never returning, prompted her to blurt out.

'I like Tom. I think about him when I'm alone. I know it shouldn't matter, but it does.'

Eudora felt like she'd been dealt a low blow. Applying as much self control as possible, she replied.

'He is handsome.'

'I know. I don't think it's that though. I often feel alone and when I look at him, I think I see the same kind of... Not loneliness. More of being alone and not quite measuring up to what the world expects of you. Which doesn't make sense, I'm sure. I just want to tell him that it's fine, he should always be the way he is. It feels like there's a part of him missing when he's in the courtyard, sitting down to lunch, or writing furiously in class. I want to tell him that he's got a friend, no matter what.'

Betty's smile was fixed in the distance, before she snorted. 'I'm rambling. Just ignore me.'

'No,' Eudora placed her hand over Betty's, 'you're not at all.'

It didn't sound like rambling to Eudora; it sounded exactly like the voice in her own head. The one she never talked about. How a boring morning lit up with interest, if she passed Tom in the corridor. For several hours afterwards she would imagine herself shopping: picking out beautiful clothes for her children. Their children. Her and Toms' children.

She wanted to screw her face up in despair. She wouldn't dream of mentioning anything so pathetic and here was Betty, being more honest than she could ever be. She was better than Eudora at being honest too. Eudora's lip was quivering and her eyes prickled with tears. She was destined in life to be a runner up: a cautionary tale for those who dare to hope. A friend who offered heartfelt advice, despite nursing a delicate heart of her own. She couldn't like Betty any less for it, but often — in the absence of someone else — she resorted to familiar ground and blamed herself. Useless! Eudora breathed deeply with a ragged sigh; she was about to screw her face up into its ugliest form and shed tears. The shame of it hardly mattered.

Then she saw Gary Box edging his way across the blanket towards Vivian, who had no doubt encouraged him. The fear of becoming a laughing stock, chased the self-sympathy away. With the back of one hand, Eudora dabbed at her tears and forced a mechanical smile.

Gary leaned forward and whispered into Vivian's ear.

'Tom and I are staying on. Thought you lot might be interested in staying too.'

Despite keeping a straight face, Vivian's eyes couldn't conceal a twinkle of excitement. 'I'll see if I'm busy.'

'Back of the line at five. If you're not busy.' Gary edged back to join his friends.

Tom watched Vivian's face while Gary whispered in her ear and knew at once that his friend was right: they would stay behind. He didn't mind Betty and liked what she had to say. She was pretty, beautiful in fact. He'd like it more if it were just the two of them and not for the reason Gary would assume: so he could steal a kiss. It had never crossed his mind until now. It was just that? Nothing was a big deal when they were together. There was no pressure to be funny, or clever; she saw past that. So yes, Tom was pleased they were coming. He had to be careful though; he was casting the spell and on a teacher too. The punishment for which, would be swift, severe and likely to fall squarely on his shoulders.

The first-form party packed up reluctantly at half-past four, with everyone helping Klebhorn to load the cart. Beery with the other teachers, circulated their picnic site and removed any litter with a flick of his wand. Several students stood nearby and held a sack open to catch the flying debris. When they were satisfied that the location was left as they'd found it, Beery and his colleagues formed the pupils into a long line. Gary and Tom joined the rear, then backed towards the woodland edge. As they approached it, Gary hissed at Vivian. She grabbed Betty and Eudora, then nodded her head towards Tom and Gary, miming come on! Eudora wanted to resist, but saw Betty picking her way through the bushes, so she followed without complaint.

There were several Scots pines with trunks broad enough to hide their group. Meanwhile, Beery travelled down the line of students, tapping each one on the head as he counted.

Gary tutted.

'Did I ever thank you for that detention, Beery? No, I don't think I did.'

Tom flicked his wand. 'Imperio.'

'Consider yourself thanked.' Gary put a hand on Tom's shoulder.

Had anyone been paying attention to Beery, they would have noticed his usually-flamboyant self, stiffen with awkwardness. He hesitated, fully aware that heads needed counting, but before reaching the end of the line, he already knew that everyone was present and correct. Despite having no number to fall back on. Curious, but at the same time, hardly worth mentioning.

'Onward Mister Klebhorn, onward.' The party shuffled down the bridleway and took many minutes to disappear among the trees.

'We'll be missed. Someone's bound to notice we're not there.' Eudora instantly feared the worst and began to obsess about expulsion.

'Relax, Brian Downer's saying he's seen us up front. He'd never cover for anyone, so they'll believe him. No question.' Gary was probably right in that respect.

'Why is he covering for you then?' Vivian was suspicious.

'He owes me and we'll leave it at that.' Gary half-closed his eyes and nodded.

They decided to follow Tom's suggestion and climb to the top of the ridge, then gather wood and light a fire. With each step, Eudora became more afraid of her shadow. Eventually, she realised that things weren't so bad after all; followed by the shocking discovery, that she might actually be enjoying herself. The person most likely to put a stop to her having fun, always seemed to be herself.

They talked for hours, comfortable in each others' company and glad they'd decided to stay. Finally, the sun disappeared below the horizon, igniting the sky. They sat admiring the blood-red spectacle and feeling refined for appreciating such simple pleasures. Gary, who was moved by the scenery, announced, 'we're the lost guardians of White Moon.'

'Speak for yourself,' Betty giggled and the laughter spread.

'All right, all right. Let's poke fun at the northern lad.' Gary shook his head

It was late and the walk back in darkness was a surreal experience: like a waking dream. Disembodied voices, laughter, no awareness of distance and branches rearing up at the last moment. They bumped into one another from time to time, not sure who was who. Despite taking longer, the journey flashed by and with disappointment, Eudora spotted the lights of Hogwarts Castle first. They left the Forbidden Forest and crossed the moonlit lawns, breaking into two groups before entering the school. Tom, Gary and Betty to Slytherin, Vivian and Eudora to Ravenclaw. Little was said as they went their separate ways. Climbing into bed later, Eudora closed her eyes and drifted to sleep between cool sheets. She could still hear the jokes, twigs snapping and laughter during their journey back. It was one of the few times in her life that she'd broken the rules on purpose and try as she might to suppress it. Her smile kept returning.

* * * * *

The following Sunday morning, Eudora woke later than usual. Her normal Sunday routine was a quick circuit of the school, then breakfast when the doors opened. Waking from such a deep sleep, she lay drowsy and motionless under the covers, so Vivian tapped a foot that was poking out.

'Hey, sleepy head, make it snappy or you'll miss breakfast.'

Eudora sat bolt upright, gathered her clothes and headed for the girls' bathrooms. She was plaiting her hair, when Betty looked round the door.

'Coming to breakfast?'

'Yes, just two minutes now.'

When they arrived at the Great Hall, there was a new poster in the foyer. This one was larger and ran along the undecorated wall beside the entrance. It showed pupils in Hogwarts house colours, racing above the treeline of a nearby peak. The racers wore goggles and rode long, streamlined broomsticks; the speed they were travelling and the length of their brooms, meant turns were wide and sweeping. Gary Box nudged his way to the front and read the text at the bottom aloud.

'The Brush Sweepstakes: Hogwarts 800,' he paused. 'Aside from being a terrible pun, what does it all mean?' Then he continued reading: 'Inter-house relay competition. A challenging, cross-country course of 800 miles. 800 miles! Each house to supply a team of four racers and two reserves, selected in whichever manner their tradition dictates. Saturday 24th June at 12pm. Spectators to assemble from 11am.'

'Well. Last exam is on the 23rd. So, I expect we'll all be there.' While the picnic was to relax students before exams began, the Hogwarts 800 would give them something to look forward to afterwards.

Eudora and Betty slipped into breakfast, seconds before the doors closed.

'Why announce it now. With exams and everything just around the corner,' Eudora wondered.

Jane Moran, a Slytherin fifth-former, was sitting opposite them, sipping tea and reading a book. She didn't look up until the last moment.

'Because there's a war coming and people like to pretend it's not happening. Bring out the traditions, get everyone cheering. Anything, as long as we don't have to deal with what's right in front of us.'

Jane looked at the two fresh-faced first formers, with something approaching sympathy.

'It's a fun event,' Eudora tried to explain. 'Enjoy yourself once exams are over and... Really... To settle who wins the house cup.' Jane gathered her plates and turned to leave.

'House cup? It's for first formers. You get over it once you've more important things to worry about. You girls have a fun morning.'

The sarcastic exchange jarred Eudora, but Betty less so.

'Don't worry, you saw the size of the crowd. Except for a few miserable individuals, everyone's looking forward to it.' Betty squeezed her shoulder.

Eudora smiled back, but the way Jane Moran had dismissed their enthusiasm, stayed with her most of the morning.

That afternoon, broomstick practice groups sprang up all over the school grounds. Betty was right; older pupils may be less bothered about winning house cups, but the competition lit a fire under most students. First and second formers who had little hope of selection, arranged themselves into teams; laying down jackets as markers, then recording their runs using precision sand timers.

Jane Moran was not far from the truth; Dippet and Hogwarts' staff all read the Daily Prophet and were well aware that war was imminent. Although it ran along different lines to the world of the everyday wizard or witch; muggle society and their own, were fundamentally linked. The Hogwarts 800 was a useful way of keeping the students focussed and optimistic.

Eudora and Joan de Manio from her Ravenclaw dorm, were taking an afternoon walk. They needed some air after a brutal stretch of revision and were keen to see what was happening down by the quidditch pitch. There were dozens of students in groups, dotted around the outside of the stadium, since its wooden skeleton provided a convenient circuit to race around. Most were in the sixth form — joking — but with serious intent. They were also wearing protective gear and high speed goggles, with no cape to slow them down. Younger pupils were hypnotised as they flashed by, practising changeovers and showing off to an appreciative audience. Eudora spotted Gary, Brian and Tom nearby, conducting their own trials; with Brian keeping a check on times.

Tom was a gifted flier, perhaps not a naturally smooth glider, but certainly a brave risk-taker. Gary — in contrast — was pedestrian, safe and destined never to make the school team. Unconcerned by his lack of ability, he loved flying, even if it was from the back of the field. Tom was completing an entire lap of the open ground; skirting the edge of the woods and focussing more on stamina, than sprinting speed. Gary saw Eudora and beckoned her over.