So, this is obviously AU. I have no idea when in the Harry Potter series this takes place, but all the Professors are the same, and Dumbledore's there, so… Just so you can keep track: Ravenclaw = Rachel Cameron, Hufflepuff = Matthew Morgan, Slytherin = Catherine Goode, Edward Townsend (just because he seemed to fit), Gryffindor = Abigail Cameron, Joseph Solomon. Ages have been adjusted. Romance/Humor/Angst/Drama


Abigail Cameron and Joseph Solomon


"JOE!" Joseph Solomon froze, the group of Gryffindors in front of him looking around in confusion. He takes a deep breath, and turns around to see his best friend, Abigail Cameron, rushing towards him.

"Abby, you know not to annoy me at Quidditch practice." He sighs, and she just shrugs.

"It's tryouts, and besides, I could be the team cheerleader." She grins. "Go Gryffindor!" He puts his face in his hands, the group of Gryffindors in front of him attending tryouts mildly amused at the captain's obvious predicament.

"You'll just be a distraction, Abs." He says, and she pouts. "And besides, hasn't Madame Hooch banned you from the Quidditch pitch?"

"Oh, please, I was a third year, and I only meant to scare her. She wasn't hurt."

"She was in the hospital wing for a week."

"Technicalities." She says, grabbing the broom out of Joe's hands. "Oh, is this the newest Firebolt? I heard it's the fastest in the world."

"Abby-"

"I'm just going to try it out." She says, already on the broomstick and flying into the sky without waiting to hear his response. Joe fumes silently. It's evident to the group of Gryffindors around him that this has indeed happened before. He grabs a third year's broom, and hops onto it without another word, flying after his friend.

"GET BACK HERE!" He yells, and she just laughs, doing flips in the air.

"You know, I really should try out for the Quidditch team. I'd bet I'd be amazing." She cried, zooming past him.

"McGonagall already said you couldn't."

"She said that it 'wasn't a good idea'. She never said I couldn't." She replies, flying up next to him.

"I think you're too busy…" He says, trying to grab her and his broom as they fly easily past the goal posts.

"Silly Joe, you know I don't study." She shakes her head mockingly. "And besides, we're best friends. Why shouldn't I be on the team? You're captain, after all. And a prefect. I'm sure you could pull some strings." She nudges him, almost sending him off the broom he's on.

"We'd argue too much, like we are now." He says through his teeth, dragging her back to the ground with him. "Now, can you please leave me in peace?" She sticks her tongue out at him, and scowls.

"Fine, Solomon, I will. But you owe me." She mumbles. Once she's almost out of speaking distance, a second year speaks up.

"So, you guys have a…thing going on?" He asks. He clearly didn't expect Abby to come back, charge him, and slap him square across the face. Joe immediately grabs her, pulling her back as she struggles

"You little…" She spouts a long string of curses as she kicks against Joe. The second year looks stunned. "Joe, let me grab my wand so I can teach this twerp a lesson…"

"No, stop it." Joe says, pushing her behind him before turning to the second year. "There is nothing going on with me and Abigail Cameron. We are best friends." He says like he is speaking to a child. "Now, don't…insinuate anything between us again."

"THAT LITTLE JACKASS! ME AND SOLOMON? OF ALL PEOPLE!" She's screaming from behind him, before she takes a deep breath, and starts back towards the castle.

"Did she have to slap me so hard?" The second year complains, feeling his cheek, which still contains a massive red mark. "I think I lost a filling."

"TRUST ME!" Abby yells, not turning around. "THAT WASN'T HARD!"


Catherine Goode and Edward Townsend


It is dark in the Slytherin common room. It usually is, considering it is in the dungeons, and under a lake, but night has fallen. The embers in the fireplace are dying down. Edward Townsend glances around the room as he walks through it. He thinks it is empty, until,

"Catherine?" The girl circled up in the farthest chair in the corner looks up from the copy of the Daily Prophet which she is reading. She has her wand up, the tip illuminated for her to see.

"Edward. You've returned." She notes, a smirk tugging at her lips.

"I'm a prefect. I was on hall duty." He says dully, and notices she's still in her uniform, her green and silver tie looped lazily around her neck.

"Ah. Of course." She nods.

"Why are you still up, anyway?" He sinks into the black leather couch across from her, the low light eerily illuminating their faces.

"Reading. Quidditch results. I'm a chaser for the team, remember?" She says, and no, he didn't remember that. In fact, he doesn't really know her at all anymore.

"Studying up for the game against Gryffindor?" He suggests, and she nods. "Anything interesting?"

"Puddlemere United lost to the Holyhead Harpies, but that was to be expected." She folds the paper in her lap, and he can't believe how awkward this is. Their families had been friends even before they were born, and they had grown up just fifteen minutes apart. He thought their friendship would continue when they were both put in Slytherin, but it became clear that it wouldn't. He has no idea what has happened to her; she has become all of the traits that a typical Slytherin contains; the reasons why the other houses hate them. She's manipulative, and sarcastic, and elitist, and he has no idea who she is anymore.

"Really?" He murmurs after a while.

"Yeah." She says, looking into the dying embers. "Are you okay?"

"What ever happened to you, Catherine?" He asks, and her dark eyes are gleaming in the darkness.

"What'd you mean?"

"You've changed. I haven't seen you smile in years; one that isn't a smirk, or one that punctures a mean comment. You have this need to be mean to everyone, to make yourself look good."

"That isn't true." She says through her teeth, leaning closer to him.

"You know it's true." His voice is rising, and he knows he's probably waking up all the students in the dormitories, but he doesn't care. "What changed?" She blinks slowly.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Edward." She whispers. "Maybe you're the one who's changed." The comment hits him like a brick, and the wind is even knocked out of him. "Since when have you decided to take the all 'high and mighty' track, anyway?"

"Because I'm a good person." He snarls. "Unlike you." She doesn't say anything, and waits for him to do something. He stands up in a huff, grabbing his bag. "Good night, Catherine." As he walks towards his room, he can hear her voice from the corner chair as the embers finally fade to black,

"Good night, Edward."


Rachel Cameron and Matthew Morgan


"Rachel," She looks up from her desk, blushing furiously at Matthew Morgan, who is standing in front of her, smiling. She freezes; he's all light brown hair, and honey colored eyes, and he really does belong in Hufflepuff; he's always been sweet, and caring towards her. Towards everyone, she corrects herself inwardly.

"Yes?" She squeaks, and curses herself for sounding idiotic.

"We need partners to work on Orchideous." He reminds her with a small laugh. She looks around, noticing the rest of her Transfiguration class standing with partners, trying to conjure up flowers. Professor McGonagall is walking around slowly, looking at their work.

"Right." She says, feeling like an idiot. She was in Ravenclaw, for god's sake. She wasn't supposed to get flustered by boys!

"So do you want to be my partner?" He raises an eyebrow, and she turns bright red. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, RACHEL? Pull yourself together! He's just a boy…with gorgeous eyes, and wonderful hair that I bet is really soft…

"Okay." She says quietly, standing up from her wooden desk, adjusting her blue and bronze necktie, urging herself to breathe.

"Orchideous." He says, and instead of conjuring a bouquet of flowers, he conjures a heap full of leaves. He sighs, and laughs in desperation.

"Evanseco." She murmurs, and with a flick of her wand, they've disappeared. "You were close." She shrugs, glancing around at the other pairs, who are having little success.

"You should try." He replies, and she raises her wand.

"Orchideous." She says, and a bushel of orchids appear on the table before her. Professor McGonagall grins.

"Very nice, Miss Cameron. Ten points for Ravenclaw!" Matt smiles at her.

"It's in your wrist flick, I think." She says, trying not to meet his eyes. "It's softer. Like you're painting." He tries, but it is, yet again, too sharp. She sighs, stepping behind him, and grabbing his wrist. His skin is warm, and soft, and for a second she doesn't know what to say. "Like this."

She guides his wrist slowly, and she notices he's watching her, a small smile appearing on his face.

"Orchideous." He whispers, but instead of a bunch of orchids, a dozen red roses appear in his hand.

"Better." Rachel says, frozen in place, not moving away from him. He hands them to her.

"For you. You're an excellent teacher." For the third time that day, her face turns the color of the roses.

"Thank you." She mumbles, and her heart is thudding in her ears. She is also unaware that the majority of her Transfiguration class is watching her, including Professor McGonagall.

And then suddenly, to her surprise, his soft hands are on her face and his lips are pressed firmly against hers. Her eyes pop open in shock, and she really wishes everyone wasn't staring at them. She can't move, and she realizes this moment is more perfect than she could have ever pictured in her head (and admittedly she has, many times).

The bells rings, and he lets go of her, a soft grin still on his face.

"See you around." He says, grabbing his things, and exiting the room with one last smile was the rest of the students. She moves her mouth, trying to say something, but nothing comes out.

"Miss Cameron," Professor McGonagall asks from behind her. "What on earth just happened?" She finally finds her voice.

"I have absolutely no idea, professor."


Catherine Goode and Joseph Solomon


"Ready?" The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Remus Lupin, asks the two students before him. Catherine Goode and Joseph Solomon meet eyes, and nod before bowing.

"You're going down, Goode." He says through his teeth, low enough that their class can't hear them.

"In your dreams, Solomon." She smirks, and starts walking to the other end of the platform, auburn hair swishing back and forth.

"Now, I trust you both know how to duel?" Professor Lupin inquires. They nod, synchronized. "Remember, nothing deadly, but that should go unspoken." He sighs. "One…two…three!"

"Expelliarmus!"

"Protgeo!" Bright red and pink sparks fill the air, but nothing seems to change, until with a flick of her wand, Catherine says, "Impedimenta." Joe, not expecting it, flies backwards into the wall with a thud. The class makes a gasp, and before he can move to sit up, she sends another charm at him: "Immobulus!" She completes her hat trick of spells with, "Mobilicorpus!"

He finds himself levitating in the air, Catherine laughing.

"Look at the situation you find yourself in now, Solomon." She sneers, and with a wave of the wrist, he's tumbling through the air, all at her whim. He can only move is eyes, and he glances towards the wand in his hand. Reducto!

She flies backwards, breaking the spell between them, sending him tumbling to the floor. He can see she is struggling to get to her feet, and uses the opportunity.

"Everte Statum!" She hurls back another five feet, hitting the wall hard, but she manages to sit up quickly.

"Incendio!"

"Aguamenti!"

"Aqua Erecto!"

"Diffindo!"

Spells are being hurled back and forth, light and sparks flying throughout the room, and the rest of the class is at a loss of where to look.

"Expulso!"

"Fumos!"

There is a loud crash, and the room is filled with smoke and debris. Visibility is lost, and some students scream softly.

Joe hears a voice, close in front of him.

"Nice job, Solomon. Now you've ruined the classroom." Catherine smugly steps out of the smoke, her face and hair blackened, her uniform ripped, as is his.

"Excuse me? You're the one who set off the explosion."

"Which would've been reparable if you could see where we are." She sneers, stepping closer to him, the rest of the class invisible in the haze. She notices that his face is bloodied, and sees the cut on his head. With a reluctant flick of her black wand, the cut is mended. He touches it, and sighs.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." She grumbles.

"Look, a Slytherin helping a Gryffindor. You'll be kicked out of your house." He jokes, and he sees the corners of her lips tug up slightly.

"You're lucky I didn't kill you by accident."

"'By accident'? But I know you would take pleasure in my death." He laughs, and she shakes her head.

"No, I wouldn't." The silence is awkward, as it usually is between them, and he has no idea what on earth to say. Catherine Goode is being nice. To him. It is most certainly an anomaly of the strangest kind. He stares at her, and really, the green and silver in her Slytherin tie goes nicely with her red hair. He realizes she's staring at him like he's an idiot.

"What?"

"My god, you're a moron." She sighs, and to his surprise, grabbing his sweater in her hands, yanking him closer to her. "You're supposed to kiss me, and now I have to go and do it myself!" And with that, her lips are crushed against his, and he thinks that maybe he's been waiting for this for along time. Her hands are still curled in his sweater as his hands drag her hips closer to his, one hand moving into her thick auburn hair, which matches the dried blood on their skin. They don't notice it, but the smoke has cleared from around them, and the entire glass is staring at them, smirking. The first one to speak is Professor Lupin.

"Well, it took you long enough."


Abigail Cameron and Matthew Morgan


"What is it?" He asks, and she glances around the Great Hall, which is currently being outfitted with massive decorated trees for Christmas. Teachers are mulling around, snow falling softly from the ceiling before disappearing before it hits them. Several students that are staying at school for the holidays, such as them, are sitting at tables, out of their uniforms.

"It's a Trick Wand." She says, shoving it towards him. He twirls it in his fingers in confusion.

"What does it do?"

"I don't know, it changes every time." She replies, glancing around for any teachers who might be wandering nearby.

"So…?"

"Well, give it a wave!"

"Why me? Why not you?" He says, trying to shove it back to her, but she doesn't let him.

"Because, I'll get in trouble for it from McGonagall. Professor Sprout loves you, and won't care." She whispers. Reluctantly, he holds it up, and gives it a flick. To his surprise, it turns into a rubber chicken, flopping all over the place.

"Ugh." He wrinkles his nose, throwing it at her, but she ducks, letting it hit a first year behind them. "Now, I have something for you." He takes out a box from under the table, and hands it to her. Suspiciously, she begins to open it, only to find big candies inside.

"Candy? Why, you know your way to a woman's heart, Matt." She grins, popping one in her mouth. He smirks, and waits. "You know, these are good. They taste a bit funny, though…" She chews pensively, and he laughs as she slowly begins to shrink. "What's going on? Matt!" Finally, he can see her no longer, and a second later, a tiny yellow bird flies in the arm from her seat, a look of murder in its eyes.

He tries to hold up his wand in defense, but the tiny canary begins to fly around him, pecking at his face and arms.

"Ouch, stop!" He cries, trying to swat the bird away, and then a split second later, the bird is growing bigger and bigger, the yellow feathers shedding everywhere, until, sitting where the bird once was, is Abby.

"Canary Creams? Really, Morgan?" She doesn't look amused, and he rubs his now red arms, laughing.

"Well, I knew you had something in store for me." She pouts slightly, before a grin begins to spread on her lips. He leans closer to her. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that I have a massive box of Wildfire Whizz-Bangs in my room that I'm just dying to set off." He smiles.

"I'll see you in the Entrance Hall in five minutes."


Rachel Cameron and Edward Townsend


"Hey, Rachel," Rachel stops, turning around on the snowy path to Hogsmeade, her books in hand. The sky is cloudy, threatening snow, and her blue and bronze Ravenclaw scarf is blowing around.

"Oh, Edward." She takes in the boy rushing through the snow towards her from the castle, his face half hidden in his dark upturned collar. "Can I help you with anything?"

"Yes, actually." He says. "When extracting Snargluff pods…?"

"Work with a few other people, so some can hold the vines back while the other searches for the pod." She nods, answering his Herbology question. He nods.

"Right, thanks." He walks silently along with her, down the path to Hogsmeade. "So, what are you going to Hogsmeade for?"

"It's a visiting day." She shrugs. "And I need to write that Astronomy essay. Might as well write it in the Three Broomsticks with a glass of Butter beer. How about yourself?"

"The cauldron shop. I need a new copper one. Mine is getting worn out." He replies, and while she silently thinks he could just fix his cauldron with a well done charm, she says nothing. Any excuse for him to show off, she supposes.

"You're one of the prefects for Slytherin, right?" She tries to make polite conversation.

"Yes… And you're one for Ravenclaw." He seems confused on why she's asking.

"Right." She nods, feeling idiotic.

"Are you just trying to make polite conversation?"

"Yes." She blurts. He stops.

"Why?" She looks around at the snowy landscape, and the sanctuary that is Hogsmeade so close.

"Because you're kind of a prat." She says.

"Excuse me?" He laughs in disbelief.

"I mean, you strive to be the best at everything, which isn't bad I guess, but you gloat about it, and think you're superior to everyone.

"That's because I am." He scoffs, and she raises an eyebrow. "Okay, I was being a prat there, but…"

"I mean, I wouldn't expect anything less than that from a Slytherin." She says coolly.

"And you Ravenclaws think you're all high and mighty?" He accuses. "Please. You look down on anyone who doesn't get straight A's."

"That's not true." She glares at him. "And I don't want to get in an argument. Maybe if you had an ounce of humility once in a while everyone would actually enjoy your presence." She realizes they're in Hogsmeade, in front of the Three Broomsticks. He opens the door for her, and she smirks before walking in. "Thank you." Before she sits down, she glances out the frost window, seeing his figure still there. She wipes away the frost to see him. He leans closer, blowing on the glass, and starts to write a message. She laughs when she sees it.

I'M NOT A PRAT.


Catherine Goode and Matthew Morgan


"Morgan," He freezes when he hears his last name at breakfast, knowing fully well the figure standing behind him.

"Catherine," He puts on a cheerful smile, and turns around to see her, hands crossed over her chest, leaning on the table next to his with a group of her Slytherin friends. "How're you?"

"Fine," She says shortly.

"You know, when someone asks you how you are, you're supposed to ask them back."

"Like I would extend that courtesy to a Hufflepuff." She sneers, sitting on the tabletop right next to him, not caring that she's crossing tables.

"Ah, we're back to making fun of my House again, are we?" He sighs.

"Let me ask you, Morgan, what do you call a Hufflepuff with one brain cell?"

"What?" He humors her.

"Gifted." She says with a smirk.

"That was weak." He laughs. "Got another one?"

"What do you call a Hufflepuff with two brain cells?"

"Pregnant." He sighs. "You'll have to try harder than that."

"There are three first years: a Gryffindor, a Ravenclaw, and a Hufflepuff. Which one is the most attractive?" She leans closer to him.

"Which?" He smiles.

"The Hufflepuff because she was seventeen." She doesn't even crack a smile, even though her group of friends are laughing. "And why did the Hufflepuff die her hair blonde?"

"Why?"

"To look intelligent." Matt shakes his head.

"Your jokes are awful, Catherine."

"Well, there's a reason Hufflepuff is the butt of every joke, and not Slytherin." She smirks. He raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, really? Then why is the grass green?" She narrows her eyes on him.

"What?"

"The grass is green, Catherine, because Slytherins are meant to be stepped on." She and her friends, needless to say, do not find it amusing.

"And you think that will bruise my ego?" She laughs it off.

"Alright, then, how many Slytherins does it take to feed a Hippogriff?"

"How many?" She asks, sighing.

"Ten. One to feed it, and nine to say 'with their father's connections at the Ministry they could have fed it faster'." She sniffs, obviously not enjoying this. "And, Catherine, do you know why Slytherins cross the road twice? Because they're back stabbing double-crossers." He punctures the sentence with a smile, and her jaw drops open.

"You'll pay for that one, Morgan." She murmurs, about to reach for her wand when the bell rings. He gets up from his seat with a grin.

"Have a nice day, Catherine. And maybe you should get some better jokes."

"At least your pickup lines are bad." She mumbles, thinking he can't hear her. He turns around while walking out the door.

"If you were a Dementor, I'd become a criminal just to get your kiss."

"THAT WAS PATHETIC!" She yells after him.

"I just want to Slytherin your Griffydor?" He tries. "How about 'You don't even have to say Luminos Maxima to turn me on'?"

"I want your basilisk in my chamber of secrets." She replies. He laughs.

"Oh, solid, but you know you're not my type." She scowls, and as she pushes by him he can hear curses with 'Hufflepuff' under her breath.


Rachel Cameron and Joseph Solomon


"I think that's Venus…" She points to the bright star ahead of them in the dark night sky. It's chilly at the top of the Astronomy tower, but Professor Sinistra doesn't care, and insists on them completing their sky charts at one o'clock in the morning.

"Maybe it's Mars." He squints, trying to figure out what the shape in the sky is.

"Huh…well, the trouble is they all look the same." Rachel sighs, looking into her telescope, but it doesn't help.

"I don't even know which way north is." Joe laughs quietly, putting his hands in his pockets. She's taken the liberty of helping him with his work, as well, since they're both hopeless at Astronomy.

"I think it's that way." She nods behind them. "The big, bright star is the North star, right?"

"They're all bright…"

"Right." She sighs again, and lets out a swear. "This course is harder than I though."

"At least it's a nice night."

"It's freezing." She glares at him.

"The view is nice." He shrugs.

"I'm not good with heights." She murmurs, turning red. He grins, raising an eyebrow.

"Rachel Cameron is afraid of heights?" He laughs.

"Not afraid, necessarily." She clears up. "Just…uncomfortable with."

"But you're in Ravenclaw, and their tower is even higher than Gryffindor's…"

"I try not to look out the window." She assures him. "And I deal with Astronomy because I want to get a good grade, which is what we should be doing right now." He looks up at the sky again.

"Is that Orion?"

"Where?" She looks around. He moves right, towards the east.

"There!" He points into the sky. She rushes after him, wildly grabbing her telescope and her half finished chart, excited at the opportunity to actually finish her assignment and get to bed.

"I don't see anything…" She's still looking around wildly, and he leads her closer to it.

"How can you not? It's right there!" He points into the sky again, and she looks up blankly, before holding up her telescope, and looking in it. "Keep walking." He's pushing her along gently. "You should see it right now."

"I don't-" She's cut off as he abruptly pushes her forwards. She stumbles before hitting something that stabilizes her. She slowly lowers her telescope only to see the ground, hundreds of feet below her. A wave of nausea hits her, and she freezes in place she totters, looking at the seemingly endless drop to the ground below. She turns around slowly, dizzy, a look of murder in her eyes as she punches Joe repeatedly.

"JOSEPH SOLOMON I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL HEX YOUR EYES OUT IF YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN!"


Abigail Cameron and Edward Townsend


"Miss Cameron." She freezes, and winces. It seems Professor Snape has the innate ability to sense anyone who comes into his classroom without even turning around. "Can you explain why you are ten minutes late to my class?" The whole room is staring at her, and she can't help but think God, I should have never taken N.E.W.T Potions

"Well, I was…um…in the…place…with the…thing…er…no?"

"Twenty points from Gryffindor." He says dully, dropping the chalk he was using to write on the board. He turns around. "And detention with me today." She wrinkles her nose, because spending an hour with Snape is definitely not her idea of a good time. "I was just assigning partners for an essay on the properties of unicorn horn. Five pieces of parchment. Due two days from now."

"Two days? You've got to be insane-" She cries.

"You'll be with Mr. Townsend." He acts like he's never heard her. She stomps to her seat next to Joe, who looks amused. Snape goes on, unaffected by the incident. "Now, turn everyone turn their books to page three hundred and ninety four…"

"Meet me in the library at nine, after your detention with Professor Snape." Edward Townsend stops her after class, and she glares at him, and he looks even more annoyed than she does.

"Why?"

"To work on our essay."

"Listen," She smiles coolly. "How about you do that essay, and we can just put both of our names on it?"

"I'll tell Professor Snape, and he'll give you even more detentions than you already have." He sneers, and she takes a deep breath.

"Fine. Nine o'clock."

"How was your detention with Professor Snape?" He doesn't look up from the book he's hunched over as she approaches.

"He called me a 'scheming harlot'." She shrugs. "Nothing new." He scoffs, looking up at her. Her skirt is a good deal shorter than the required length, showing off much more leg than necessary. Her button up, short sleeve shirt hugs every curve, and the red and gold tie draped around her neck, and Edward thinks the term 'sexpot' may have been more accurate. "So, have you started?"

"Just barely." It is night, and they are in a secluded corner of the library, hidden amongst the high shelves of books. She slides dully into the seat next to him, and for the next hour, only speaks to him about adding things to the essay. He has to admit that she is surprisingly very smart, and her suggestions are good. It's approaching midnight when they finish.

"So, why on earth did Snape pair me with you?" She smirks as he's gathering up his things.

"I was wondering the same thing." He murmurs.

"You just can't resist me, darling Edward." She laughs, placing a hand on his shoulder, because admittedly, Edward Townsend is gorgeous, the tall, dark handsome type that she loves, but he's always been too involved in academics for her liking. His eyes narrow on her as she scoots her chair closer.

"No one is irresisitable." He sighs, before on a spur of the moment decision, grabs her and crushes his lips into hers, to her surprise. He tastes like peppermint, her favorite, and she knows that despite the darkness of the library, he can tell she is blushing. He smiles into their hot kiss, yanking her closer to him so she's almost sitting on him.

"Miss Cameron," Edward looks up, not particularly surprised to see Professor Snape standing in front of them. Abby suppresses a laugh, burying her face in his shoulder. "I should not have to remind you that explicit activities are banned in the library, but Mr. Townsend, I did not expect you to give in to…temptation." He raises an eyebrow. "To a Gryffindor, nevertheless. Thirty points from Gryffindor, and detention for both of you."

"Two detentions in one day – I'm on a roll." Abby laughs, getting off Edward after Snape leaves. "See you around, Townsend." She gives him a wink, and saunters off, leaving him alone in the darkness


Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop is always a busy haunt for sweet teenage couples, but it is always the busiest in winter, and especially around Valentine's Day. While it is freezing and snowing outside, couples waited days for a reservation; the opportunity to cuddle up with their special someone near the fire.

Therefore, the couples in the Tea Shop on Valentine's Day are very, very lucky.

"This place is adorable!" Rachel coos, squeezing Matt's hand. "All the frills, and lace, oh, and the cherubs!" He nods, taking a sip of his tea, looking around.

"Not as adorable as you." He smiles, and she blushes, kissing him softly on the lips.

"You're sweet." She laughs, biting her lip, pondering how lucky she is, before kissing him quickly again. Meanwhile, in the corner of the shop, curled up on one of the couches, not thoroughly amused, is Catherine.

"This place is so tacky, Joe. Why on earth did you bring me here?" She grumbles, and Joe laughs, wrapping an arm around her as she curls closer to him.

"Because I know how much you love clichés." He jokes, and she nudges him softly, a grin forming on her lips.

"You're ridiculous." She murmurs, as he leans in and plants a kiss on her lips. And off in another corner, too busy making out and feeling each other up to know what's going on around them, are Abby and Edward.

"If we knew we were going to make out the whole time, we should've gone to the shrieking shack." Abby says breathlessly, breaking away from Edward for a split second, fixing her mussed hair.

"Well, it's called 'shrieking' for a reason." He says suggestively, holding her closer to him. She bursts out laughing, before pulling him into another kiss.

Yes, Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop is the perfect place to snuggle up with a beloved.