The Other Side: A Harry Potter FanFiction

Chapter XXII

"I haven't really had much time to talk to you alone," Cedric explained sheepishly, "And I'm pretty sure you'll be too busy practicing and training after your lessons start."

            "What do you need to talk to me about?" Lana asked, leaning against the wall.

            "Nothing in particular, actually," he replied, "I just want to get to know you is all. You've been here a few days and everyone knows you... but we just don't know you, you know?"

            "Um... kinda."

            "Where're you from?" he asked, "You have an accent... like an American, sort of. But you can't be American. Muggles aren't allowed to travel."

            "Uh... my parents are-were-American. I get it from them."

            "Really?" he asked, surprised. "Where were they from?"

            "Manhattan," she replied, "New York."

            "Do you miss them?"

            "Very much, actually. A lot more than I thought I ever could... I was so terrible to them, and now they're gone."

            "What do you mean you were terrible to them?"

            "I was just a bad kid," she explained quietly, "I never listened, I did whatever I wanted-"

            "But you're seventeen, right?" he asked, "Voldemort started the training camps about a year after he took over, and he added the age limit the very next year. You would've only known them for three years..."

            "I never went to a training camp," she said, "I never had to."

            "Why not? All muggles do."

            She hesitated. "It's difficult to explain."

            There was a silence between them for a moment before she asked with a smile, "Is this some sort of interrogation?"

            He grinned. "Like I said; I just want to know you."

            "Well, there's got to be a better way to get to know me than by just standing around and asking me a bunch of random questions," she said.

            "You mean to say standing around and asking a bunch of random questions that the wrong ears could hear the answers to?" he asked, "The wrong ears being the refugees?"

            "Not necessarily the refugees in general," she admitted, "But... I don't want to give anybody the wrong ideas about me; that I'm a lunatic or a criminal or something crazy like that."

            "And they'd get that from your answers?"

            "It depends on your questions," she replied, "The truth is something so complex that even I'm not sure what it is. If I could answer every question, I would. But I can't, and that'll get people worried."

            "Well, why don't we take up this conversation somewhere more private?"

            "Like?"

            "What would you say to a dinner? Just the two of us, without the refugees to worry about or really anything to ruin it. Would you say yes to that?"

            "I think I would," Lana replied with a smile, "But it depends on the kind of dinner. Would it be a) romantic, b) casual, or c) just a dinner where you're going to ask me a bunch of random questions?"

            "Which one would you rather?" he asked.

            "I'm going to say d) a mixture of the three," she replied, "When and where?"

            "How about tomorrow night, in the drawing room?"

            "The drawing room?"

            "I can have a few of the refugees help me bring a table and two chairs in for us," he explained, "We can have it all to ourselves."

            "Okay, what time tomorrow night?"

            "Does seven sound alright?"

            "Seven sounds perfect."

            "Then seven o'clock tomorrow night in the drawing room it is," he said, and grinned.

            "Can't wait," Lana said, "I should probably help Andromeda and Kreacher with dinner, now."

            "Alright. See you later, Lana." He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissed it quickly, and then walked away, not letting go until he was too far and her fingers fells from his.

            Once he was out of sight, Lana flexed her fingers and beamed. Then she hurried down the staircase and to the basement kitchen, a bounce in her step.