October left a bitter taste in her mouth. She had started the month with optimism for her investigation. However, it ended in fights with friends and a dead end in the investigation. She had such high hopes for it. Even her homework submissions earned none of its usual appraise.

All she felt was disappointment.

Daybreak sliced through the curtains. Light disturbed Amara's eyes. Damn sunrise. She rolled to her side. Her friends still slept soundly. Of course, they did. Their bed did not lie directly in front of the window. She laid in bed until Gina began stirring. If Gina awoke now, the race for the shower was going to start.

She scrambled out of bed. Her feet stuffed into warm boots in preparation for the icy tiles. Today, she was to gain the reward of the first hot shower. As she tied her hair up, a strange sadness scratched its way into her heart. She turned the faucet, steaming hot water pouring in response. Where this sadness had come from, she wondered.

Then, it hit her. This charade had gotten old. Tiptoeing around her friends. Waking up earlier to avoid the overwhelming, awkward silence. Or worse. Listening to them chatter on without acknowledging her existence. It added salt on her already stinging wound.

When she finished, Gina waited. Her brown eyes met Amara's. She simply nodded in acknowledgment, a hand on the doorknob. Amara's heart soared, drinking in the familiar comfort. She had looked at her! And nodded.

Things were looking up.

Amara left before Rose and Camilla awoke. As usual, she had her heavy bag in tow. Her brain now brightened in possibility. After all, it was November the first. Meaning, snow expected them very soon. Not to mention, the Triwizard Tournament.

Like her, Harry Potter seemed to have lost some of his friends. Hermione Granger stayed loyal. Ron Weasley, although, became part of those who accused Harry of cheating. Cheating at getting his name into the goblet of fire. Almost the entire school turned their backs on him. They even started wearing those ugly, Potter Stinks/ Support Cedric Diggory badges.

Someone had tried to sell her one, but Amara rejected it.

Despite their brother being aggravated by Harry, the Weasley twins sported no badges. It did not stun Amara. First of all, they were serious about opening their joke shop, they had no time to hate. Second, they liked Harry. Third, when have they ever followed the crowd?

As soon as she reached her seat, George noticed her. He saluted her with his tie loosened, hanging on his shoulders. Amara found herself aching to fix his shoddy work. Perfectionism proved to be her vice. She saluted back, grin widening. Fred turned to see her.

He waved, politely. Amara smiled. Fred turned back to talking to Lee Jordan, who was waving at her too. Merlin, her arm hurt now. In what universe, did she possess multiple acquaintances? She nodded at him, smiling at him too.

The three boys returned to their conversation.

A hand touched Amara's shoulder. With a flinch, she swatted the hand away. "You're too jumpy."

James peered down at her, smiling. His brown hair shone. He must have washed it. Unlike George, he dressed in the proper way. His perfect tie hidden in his grey jumper. His skin bore no trace of the usual teenage anguish; no pimples. Amara deemed this unfair to her and her fellow acne-ridden teenagers.

"What are you staring at?" James opened his mouth, eyes widening.

"Nothing," Amara blurted, too quickly.

"Can I sit here?" James gestured to her right.

A soft voice answered the question for Amara. "That's my seat."

Luna Lovegood's sleepy gaze observed James. A strange pendant dangled from her chain. A random seashell. Amara had not gotten used to her new friend's eccentric fashion tastes. Amara drew this to Luna's attention before it wavered again.

"It's supposed to cleanse the air. There's too much negativity surrounding Harry Potter, nowadays," Luna said, sitting at Amara's right.

"I'm sorry to interrupt. Amara, introduce us," James nudged her, looking upon Luna with the face of a curious boy.

Amara introduced them. James held out his hand. Luna smiled in her dreamy nature, granting his handshake. Though James had interest in Luna's peculiarities, Luna did not pay the same gesture. She piled eggs and baked beans with indifference. Amara gladdened when he took no offense.

James took the other seat.

"My grandfather is giving money for chemo," James announced.

Amara squeezed James' hand. "That's great, James!"

James retracted his hand, suddenly flustered.

"I know. I am so happy. It could help my dad a lot. I just...wanted to tell you."

Amara grinned at him. She threw an arm around him. "I'm glad."

James hugged her back.

This sweet exchange broke off due to the unforeseen entrance of the Weasley Twins. Amara startled, pulling away. She ended up giving James an accidental elbow to the stomach. James groaned in pain, reeling away from Amara. He clutched his stomach. "Ouch."

"Sorry."

The Weasley twins observed. They hid their laughs behind their hands. At least, they were polite.

"May we help you?" Amara grasped James' wrist to stop him from leaving.

Fred and George beheld the handhold for a quick second.

"Actually. We wanted to speak to you," George answered, coolly.

"Can this wait?"

"Maybe like five minutes. We have a—" George glanced at James, half-hearted. "Strict schedule."

James pried Amara's strong constraint off. Amara asked him if he was fine. He gave her an understanding look in response. He migrated to his homeland the Hufflepuff table. Snapping her head to George, she gestured for him to speak. 

"So, what was so important?" Amara implored.

"We're visiting Hogsmeade again. You could go to that stationery shop you like?" George suggested.

Without hesitation, Amara picked her bag up.

"Did you have breakfast?" Luna chimed in.

Once Amara replied she had not, Luna grabbed a piece of toast. She spread jam. Then, she proceeded to place it in Amara's mouth.

"Thfanbs," Amara mumbled.

The passageway froze more than last time. Amara gripped her cloak tighter. She avoided last time's mistake of not wearing an extra jumper. Despite that, it remained artic. Light winds whipped the strands of her pink-tinted hair. They nipped at her neck, causing Amara flinching. Her lips felt stiff, so she didn't speak up till they entered the warm cellar.

"It's so cold," Fred jogged in place for warmth.

"I almost froze my balls off, mate," George replied.

They warmed their icicle bodies before heading out. The Dukes greeted them as they passed through. Due to their agendas, the twins and Amara went separate ways. The twins to the colourful Zonko's and Amara to Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. Amara crossed the threshold of the ancient-looking shop.

Light penetrated the room through two windows. Still, Amara could not see much. In the far corner, a chimney spewed out warmth with the help of firewood. An abandoned counter stood in front of it. As Amara walked around, the wooden floor creaked.

Various stationery had been organised in small displays across the entire shop. One display had bottles of rainbow ink. The colours swirled of its own accord. When Amara picked it up, the ink began swirling rapidly. Like it was elated by her presence. Amara decided to get it.

She passed by a heap of charcoal parchment. A table of Smelter's Smelling Inks piqued her interest. But, something else got her attention. Front of the table perched an aged bookshelf, shelves collapsing. Worn out journals sat, gathering layers of dust. Amara retrieved one with great difficulty; she could not believe how fragile these shelves were.

She dusted the journal off, coughing after. Dust tainted her palms. Amara winced at the dirt. A thin leather band bound the journal. Lifting it, she flipped to the first page. Her heart nearly fell out of her mouth.

A cursive script read 'Belongs to Graham Grindelwald'.

"That old thing," a shaky voice said.

Amara looked up at the shopkeeper. An old man, with barely a hair on his head, wiped ink on to his robes. A scraggly beard accompanied his face. The train of his brown robes followed him. Light blue eyes hid underneath messy, white eyebrows.

"It belonged to Graham Grindelwald," Amara remarked.

"Yes.

"How come you have this? Didn't he die like ages back?" Amara questioned.

"You ask too many questions," the man wiped imaginary sweat from his brow.

Amara apologized for her eagerness.

"This has been in this shop since my grandfather was in his twenties. Imagine how long ago," he answered. "The peculiar thing is that it doesn't have anything written in it except for his name."

"How come you kept it?" Amara's hand brushed against the fading ink.

"Something about it told my mother, her father, and me that this was useful in some way," the old man took the book from, surveying its angles.

"Guess it was meant for me to find," Amara grinned, taking out her money purse

The man's mouth dropped, disconcerted. "What would you want with an old thing like this?" the man asked, dumbstruck.

Amara smiled, "I just love mysteries."

She left the shop with two bags. Both containing quills, ink bottles, and notebooks aching to be written in. And of course, Graham Grindelwald's kind-of-empty notebook. In her stomach, excited butterflies fluttered. 

She could not wait to tell George.

Pushing the bright door open, she entered Zonko's. Amara adjusted to the vivid displays which differed from the muted hues of outside. She searched the sea of bizarre displays for the twins. Funnily enough, the task of finding the Weasley's signature hair was impossible.

"Oh, Amara!" George popped up from behind a display of Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks.

Fred walked out from behind a display. His eyes darted to the bags she had been carrying. With a sneaky smile, he snatched one of the bags. Amara yelped in protest and offense. Her hands grabbed for the bag, but Fred held it out of reach. Snickering, he peered into the bags.

"So boring. Quills...notebooks...colour changing ink...old diary..." he plucked the antique journal out.

George seized the journal. His lips curved at Amara, roguish. He flicked to the first page. He reacted the same way as Amara had done; gaping mouth and wide eyes. Amara nodded. Fred regarded George's peculiar expression. He grabbed the journal back.

"Graham Grindelwald? Is this cursed?" Fred questioned, voice stern and firm.

"I...I don't know," Amara blinked in alarm. She would have thought Fred would be excited.

Fred cast her a wary glance. He didn't say anything, turning back to the displays. Amara browsed the shop by herself. She checked out a display of do-it-yourself magic bomb kits. Her mind ran through the film of Fred's serious and distrustful face. What did she do? What did she say to make him so...serious?

These thoughts raged on as they trekked through the passageway back. Their footsteps, along with the pitter patter of raindrops, became their soundtrack. Amara hid her bags under her thick cloak. The twins chattered about their products. Amara gathered words like 'Skiving Snackboxes' and 'Ton Tongue Toffees'. During the walk, George had looked back at her.

"Fred, there's someone ahead," George prompted when they reached Hogwarts.

"You go check on that Georgie."

George tiptoed ahead, cautious. Fred acquired this opportunity to speak to Amara. He fell into step with Amara. "It seems like my brother really values your...friendship. So, please don't take advantage of his enthusiasm," spoke Fred in an undertone. "The last time an ancient diary came near my family, it didn't end well."

Amara's heart swelled with sympathy. The event of the chamber of secrets came to mind. Filch's cat had been petrified. Threats were written with blood. Shivers disturbed her skin, goosebumps rippling through. Rumours had circulated of Ginny Weasley being taken into the chamber.

"I'll make sure he doesn't get hurt, Fred," she promised.

In response, he winked. He joined George in the front. Unfamiliar footsteps treaded past the passageway. With a grunt, George pushed the statue outwards. Stone creaked, sending vibrations across the floor. Light poured into the passageway. 

George departed first, boosting himself up.

Amara followed last.

As they walked back to the Great Hall, the twins described their grandiose plans. George began to explain their concept of 'Ton-Tongue Toffee'; a toffee which makes your tongue weigh—well—tons. Fred told a story about how they tricked someone into being their test subject. To their contentment, it had worked perfectly. 

When they parted ways, Amara blended into a sea of blue and bronze ties. Amara discovered a dazed Luna in her usual seat. She flopped next to her without a warning. Luna piled boiled rice, vegetables with gravy on her plate. She poked around the food with a spoon, idly. She had not taken heed of Amara's presence.

"Luna?"

"Oh, Amara," Luna jumped. "How was your trip?"

"It was nice. I got some quills and notebooks. Actually..." Amara searched through one of the bags she had hidden under her cloak. Inside the bags, her fingers grazed a smooth surface and the fuzzy feathers of quills. Finally, she took one brown leather notebook with a moon engraved on it.

"Is that for me?" Luna asked, smiling when Amara pushed it towards her.

"You've been a nice...friend. I appreciate your presence," Amara told.

"Thank you. I don't usually have friends," Luna said.

"Well, you do now."

A throng of Beaubaxton students infiltrated the Great Hall with their powder blue uniforms. Furiously speaking French, they approached the Ravenclaw table. Most of them occupied the far end. They probably found it more comfortable to stick with their own geese. 

Except one goose decided to sit with Amara and Luna.

Amitee's honey blonde hair sat in a messy bun. Dark circles hung from under her eyes. She slumped in her seat; conflicting with her usual grace. She propped her head on her hand, lips downturned. She filled her plate with a blank face. "I hate my friends. I hate my school. I hate everything," she spoke.

"What happened?" Luna questioned.

"If you are zo interested," Amitee released a melancholic sigh. "My friends played a prank on me. So mean-spirited of zem. I am not sure I should even tell you..."

"We won't judge," Amara affirmed.

"Alright. Before I start this story, you should know I am not interested in...men. I don't like zem, they are disgusting. I am so disgusted with them, that my friends find it so funny to torment me," Amitee paused, growing nervous, glancing behind her. "My friends fed a love potion to some student here and made him chase me throughout the night."

Amara gasped. "That's awful."

"It is. Do you know what they said when I confronted them? They said maybe he could fix me! I was so offended. What is the problem with liking women? Men are so..."

"Disgusting?"

"Yes! I thought they supported me, but they don't," Amitee said, frowning.

"I am sorry to hear about that."

"How must it be heterosexual?" Amitee queried, a gloomy cloud crossing her face.

"I wouldn't know. I am bi," Amara answered.

The gloomy cloud had left. An optimistic smile lit Amitee's face. She was smiling a lot now. It creeped Amara out. She had never seen Amitee smile that much. Her hand grabbed Amara's."Oh my god! I never met anyone..different like me."

"Me too!" Amara felt the infectious excitement get to her.

"I am not heterosexual as well," Luna's revealed.

Amara and Amitee spun to her.

"I only like the romance part of relationships. I never cared for the things which happen in the bedroom," the thirteen-year-old said. "I just don't like it. It makes me feel sick."

Amitee clasped Luna's hand.

"We're the misfits, my friends! We should start a band! Called—" Amitee began to say, but was disrupted by James.

"Wow, what's going on here?" James invited himself in, smile drowning in hesitancy.

"Hey James," Amara pointed at Amitee. "That's Amitee. She's from Beauxbatons."

James shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

James sat next to Amitee, unsure of what to do.

"So, are you excited for the Triwizard Tournament? I heard the first event is taking place on 24th November. I am rooting for Cedric," James said.

"I am rooting for Fleur. She is a bright, talented witch," Amitee proudly answered.

James and Amitee looked at Luna and Amara, expectant.

"I am supporting Harry Potter. It looks like he needs it," Luna said, glancing sympathetically over to the Gryffindor table.

"I feel bad for him. I don't think he even entered," Amara wondered out loud. "He was so confused when they called out his name. Why would a kid who attracts danger want more danger?"

"Some people are attracted to danger. You are too seeming by your redhead boyfriend..." Amitee teased, pursing her lips.

James' eyes bugged out.

"She's just teasing me," Amara wagged her finger in disappointment at Amitee. "George is my friend like I've said before."

"Then, why did you sneak off with him during classes?" Luna asked.

James, horrified, nearly falling off his seat. "You missed class?" James' voice rose to falsetto.

"You snuck off with him?" Amitee raised her eyebrows suggestively.

Rolling her eyes, she justified "I snuck out with George and his twin. I was bored, and I wanted to buy something."

"How long were you gone?" James demanded.

"She just came back," Luna replied, to which Amara sighed.

"You're missing classes?! You love school!" James blurted out.

"It gets dull, James. Besides, it doesn't hurt to do it once."

Luna got her into trouble again. "You went before, didn't you?" she mentioned, twirling a piece of platinum blonde hair around her finger.

Amara gave her another look. This time, a lethal one. Luna shrugged, eating her rice.

"You went twice? You don't even use the Hogsmeade weekends! What is the point of sneaking around?" James continued, making unreadable hand gestures.

"It's just different! Calm down, James."

"Fine! I'll calm down," James huffed, picking up his bag.

 He stood up, making a beeline for the door. He glimpsed at her once. Amara puzzled at this behavior, asked herself what she did wrong. Luna and Amitee considered her, quizzical. Eventually, they began speaking again about the tournament.

For the rest of the afternoon, Amara searched for the teachers. She missed five classes, meaning that she had to make up the work that day. She lied to all of them, saying she lost track of time studying in the library and promising she would not do it again. McGonagall gave her a disapproving look but did not punish her for it.

By five, she settled in the library. She had her assignments on one side and her stationary on the other. She unwrapped a new phoenix feather quill which she had brought from Scrivenshaft's. She had just dipped it when her friends settled down at her table.

Odd enough, Amara felt uncomfortable with their presence. She assumed they could not find a seat, but the library was almost empty. Tomorrow was Saturday. She stole a quick peep at them, only to realize they were looking at her.

"Hey," Camilla said.

"Hi?" greeted Amara.

Rose pulled out the chair next to her. Gina sat opposite of Amara, face blank. Camilla's fingers fretted over her split ends, unsure of what to do. Peter had tagged along, leaning against the bookcase. James followed last.

Amara attempted to catch his eye. Nothing. He dodged it as it were a curse.

The window displayed an ultramarine sky. The dusky smell of the library made itself aware in the quiet moment. Amara's lungs greeted it as sweet relief from the awkwardness. Her friends avoided making a sound, all steering gazes towards the floor.

The quiet consumed the space for moments. Up to the point that Amara could not take any more. "What's up?" she asked.

"James told us," Rose spoke up, indicating to said person.

"Of course, he did," Amara played with her quill. "What do you think about it?"

"I wish you told us. It's important to you enough that we have a fight. We understand," said Gina.

"I just...was confused."

"You were so confused, that you skipped classes two times? You just forgot NEWTs and your natural way of doing things?" Camilla said, voice elevating to scorn.

"I want to explore! I wanted to do something new for once. I didn't want to be the 'boring' Shacklebolt sister. I always felt like that. I also have a feeling I have to do something for my mom. I just followed my instincts," Amara replied.

"I guess you had to go crazy in some way. You've always been a good girl," Gina told.

 Rose and Camilla bobbed heads in agreement. Amara cracked a smile at that. They knew her so well. 

"We miss you," lamented Rose, her face crumpling.

Amara held Rose's hand.

"I missed you all too. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you and just acted so weird. I'm sorry I was not the first one to wave the white flag."

Gina moved toward Amara to squeeze her shoulder.

"You did," Camilla piped up. "You comforted me after what happened with Sara. I was too scared to tell you guys. I knew you thought she was no good."

"We support you either way," Amara confided, cracking a wide grin.

To that promise, Camilla beamed ear to ear.

"Can we get chocolate cake at the Astronomy tower tonight?" Gina inquired. "This seems like a monumental moment."