Chapter 16

Valentine's day was upon Santana too quickly for her liking. It didn't feel possible that she'd spent an entire week trying, and failing, to come up with a message to write in Brittany's card. Every time she thought one up, she wasn't in a position to actually write it down, and when she finally was able to get the card out, it suddenly felt foolish. 

What do you write to someone you don't know anything about when you're also trying to apologise for accidentally hurting their feelings by implying but not actually saying that they were stupid? 

So on the night before Valentines day, Santana was once again in the library, head hung in her hands as she stared at both cards. She'd remembered earlier that day that she also had to make one for Willow. This one she put considerably less effort into making. She left it white, scattered a few red dots around the page and wrote in large letters HAPPY VALENITE'S DAY. 

"Okay." She picked up her quill and held it over Willow's card. "Dear Willow," She said aloud as she wrote. "Thanks for not sucking as a prefect. I guess if I had to be forced to make a card for someone I'm glad it's you. You're alright, even if you hang out with my brother way too much. So….Happy Valentine's day, from Santana."

She wondered briefly if she should sign of 'love Santana' but thought better of it. That might seem a bit weird coming from a first year. Besides, love wasn't a word Santana thought should be thrown around lightly, and she definitely did not love Willow. She was cool, pretty, yes, very pretty, Santana nodded as she thought, and maybe Santana wished they had more reasons to hang out together, but that was not love. 

Santana read the message again. It was short, but it would do. She knew Willow would chuckle when she read it, which to Santana meant it was good enough. She closed it and fit it into an envelope, then turned to the second card. 

"Urgh…" she sighed, opening Brittany's card. She had half a mind to just write 'Happy Valentine's day Brittany' on the inside as well. This was likely to be the only card Brittany even got, so what was written inside didn't really matter. 

Except that it was the only card Brittany was going to get. Maybe. Probably. And maybe Brittany was fine with that. Maybe she'd made her peace with it as soon as she realised Valentine's day was approaching. So if Santana took it upon herself to give her a card, raising Brittany's hopes, and then the card sucked, or the message sucked, then she'd be accidentally hurting her feelings all over again. Brittany might think it was a prank or something, given the way she had over-reacted when Santana had implied she wasn't as smart as everyone else. And then Santana would feel twice as guilty as she did now. 

So unlike Willow's card, where she could write whatever popped into her head, she needed Brittany's message to be perfect, because it actually mattered. For Santana, who had never written an emotional message in her life, this was a problem. Most of the people in her life who mattered to her just knew how she felt. She never had to say it. She barely had to show it. They just knew.

Basically what she needed was a nice short way to tell Brittany that she didn't think she was stupid, but she couldn't very well just write, 'Dear Brittany, I don't think you're stupid. Happy Valentine's day.'

"Dear Brittany…." Santana said aloud. "Dear…Brittany…" She tapped her nails on the table resting her chin on her other hand. "Dear Brittany, I know you're not stupid, sorry I made you think…" she shook her head and sighed. "That sounds so dumb."

"Dinner again dear."

Santana ran her fingers through her hair and turned to see Madam Pince standing over her. 

"Anything you need to help speed this along?"

"Are there books on drafting a valentine's message for someone you don't know?"

Madam Pince frowned, flicking her eyes between Santana and the Valentine's card on the table. 

"I'm afraid you'll have to do that on your own."

"Yeah." Santana stood up, packed her quill, ink and the card away in her bag and stood up. "Why do you keep telling me when it's dinner by the way? I don't see you doing that to anyone else."

"You're skinny." Madam Pince pointed a bony finger at her. "And angry. Both of those things can be fixed by a nice big meal."

Scowling at her, Santana shouldered her bag. 

"Well you're skinny and angry too. Maybe you should take your own advice."

Before she left the library Santana could have sworn she saw Madam Pince smile. 

  *******************

Santana was beginning to feel a little panicked. She was on the verge of simply not giving Brittany the card at all. It felt like a plan doomed to fail. The last thing she needed was for Brittany to burst into tears because Santana had somehow offended her again. Or what if people knew it was Santana that gave it to her? What if Quinn found out? Santana didn't need that drama. She had a reputation to uphold. She couldn't very well be found to be giving out Valentine's day cards, much less to a Gryffindor. 

So she made up her mind. If by the time she was going to bed she hadn't been able to come up with a message to write, she would throw the whole card in the bin. All through dinner she wracked her brain for words, any words, that she could write in Brittany's card without making herself cringe or Brittany cry. More than once Quinn and Sebastian asked what was wrong with her because she was so abnormally quiet. Yet nothing came. 

By dessert she had started to accept that she wouldn't be able to come up with anything. She just wasn't the best at communicating her feelings. She'd have to think of another way to apologise to Brittany. She'd just joined the ongoing conversation about their upcoming defence against the dark arts class, in which professor Lupin had said they would be learning about zombies, when a sudden noise caught her attention. 

Maybe it was because she'd spent so much time looking at Brittany over the past few weeks, but that was instantly where her eyes went when she turned. Brittany was laughing. Santana wasn't sure she'd ever seen Brittany laugh before. It was high pitched and airy, with Brittany's mouth open in the largest smile Santana had ever seen. So wide it forced her eyes closed. 

Sam was sitting next to her, laughing as well, but not quite as loudly. Santana wondered how she hadn't noticed him all through dinner. She wasn't the only one staring though. The other Gryffindor's were looking at them as well. Some with amused faces, others like Puck and Azimio with narrowed eyes. 

Santana looked back at Brittany as she laughed again. It was contagious, that's what Santana told herself as she began to smile. Brittany's laugh was just contagious. It wasn't that she liked the sound, or that hearing Brittany laugh made her happy. It was just one of those, you hear them laugh and you can't stop yourself from laughing as well kind of laughs.

She tried to ignore it, turning back to Quinn, Sebastian and the other Slytherin boy sitting with them, Marcus, and trying to pretend to care about zombies, but she suddenly knew what she was going to write in Brittany's card and was anxious to get to it. 

She left dinner early, running all the way to the dormitory where her bag was by her bed, partially open. She took out the card, ink bottle and quill and set them all on her desk. 

"Dear Brittany" she wrote carefully. "You may be a Gryffindor, but you aren't stupid. In fact you may be the only not stupid Gryffindor EVER, which makes you quite special. So, you know what I think? You should laugh more. You have a really pretty laugh…" Santana frowned down at the card. She hadn't meant to write that. She hadn't even meant to think it, but it was too late. She didn't have time to make a new card. 

"Anyway happy Valentine's day." She wrote hastily before any other embarrassing thoughts slipped out, closed the card and tucked it into an envelope. She took Willow's letter out of her bag as well, and left her dormitory. Quinn and Sebastian were just walking into the common room as she walked out. 

"Where are you going?" Quinn asked. 

"Owlery." Santana held up the cards.

"Oh. You're going to actually have it delivered? I was just going to give it to her."

"Might as well do the thing properly." Santana shrugged. 

"Oh alright." Quinn sighed. "Wait for me then." She disappeared into the corridor to their dorm. 

"Why do you have two?" Sebastian asked. 

"Um…" Santana thought fast. "Decided to send one home."

"Oh." He nodded. "Yeah I'd never do that."

Santana smiled awkwardly, shifting her feet. 

"I'm trying to get on my mum's good side so she lets me bring my broom to school."

"Oh." Seemed to understand this. He smirked. "Smart."

"I swear, I won't be doing this ever again." Quinn grumbled, emerging into the common room with her card in hand.

"Is it still yellow?" Santana asked, laughing. 

"Don't start Santana." Quinn held up a hand. "Just don't start."

Laughing, Santana led the way out of the common room.

  ***************

Valentines' day morning, Santana woke up with her stomach in knots. She wasn't sure why she was so nervous, since Brittany wouldn't even know the card was from her, but she was. She laid in bed for as long as she could, almost wanting to skip breakfast altogether. She would have if it weren't for Quinn forcing her out of bed. 

"What's wrong with you?" Quinn asked, as Santana dragged her feet to the great Hall. 

"Nothing." Santana shook her head. 

"Well then stop walking so slowly." Quinn looped their arms and dragged Santana all the way to the great hall. 

The fluttering in her stomach increased to a fever pitch as they walked into the great hall. It was decorated, as she suspected it might be, with silver, pink and red love hearts on the walls. There were bouquets flowers suspended over the four tables, spaced out along the length. As Santana watched, the flowers closest to her, which were on the Ravenclaw table, closed slowly. Seconds later they opened now white, instead of the previous red, and with a small chocolate bar tucked inside one of them. 

Her jaw fell open.

"Did you just see that?"

Quinn nodded excitedly. "Come on." She pulled Santana to the Slytherin table. 

"Actually…." Santana dug her heels in to stop Quinn. "Let's sit with Mike." She pulled her arm free of Quinn and walked to the Hufflepuff table. Usually she didn't care what table they sat at, but the Hufflepuff table would give her a better view of Brittany when the post came. 

"Happy Valentine's day." Mike said, practically yelled. He picked two envelopes from a pile by his plate and handed them to Santana and Quinn. 

"What's this?" Quinn asked. 

"Valentine's cards. I made one for all the first year Hufflepuff girls, so I thought I'd make some for you too."

"Oh. Thanks Mikey." Santana took out the card, which was white, and blank. "Ha, ha." She said, about to put the card away.

"Just wait." Mike laughed.

Santana looked back down just in time to see 'Happy Valentines day Santana' appear on the front, in deep red ink. 

"Cool!"

"How did you get it to do that?" Quinn asked, quickly opening her own card. 

"I asked a seventh year."

"Wow." Santana opened the card to see a large chocolate frog drawn inside. It hoped from the left page to the right, and when it opened its mouth the words 'eat me if you can' appeared on the page. Santana laughed. 

"This is cool Mike." She said seriously. "Thanks."

It was the first card she'd ever received on Valentine's day, and while she still didn't care either way, she was beginning to think that maybe Mike had been right about the holiday. It wasn't so pointless after all. 

  **************

Mike's card, and then Mercedes' reaction to him giving her one; she'd squealed in a very un-Mercedes like manner, had actually managed to distract Santana from the morning post and what it would bring. She'd finished her breakfast, and was now timing the flowers above her, to try and get a chocolate from them. 

"Santana you can't take it." Mercedes said. She too was timing the flowers. She'd moved to stand right next to Santana, and kept trying to push her out of the way.

"Why not?"

"Because this is for the Hufflepuffs. Go take one from the Slytherin table."

"No." Santana shoved her elbow into Mercedes' arm. "Stop pushing me."

"That chocolate is mine, I am not going to let you steal it."

"Don't make me hurt you-"

Santana was cut off as owls filled the great hall. Her stomach plummeted. 

"Ha!" Mercedes said. "You're tiny. How are you going to hurt me?"

Santana sat down heavily. Staring at Brittany and holding her breath. She couldn't remember what the owl she'd used looked like. It was one of the school owls, since she couldn't very well use Toffet and have everyone know it was from her. So there was no point watching the owls, she wouldn't recognise it anyway. Instead she watched Brittany. She looked sadder than usual. A far cry from last night. She wasn't sitting anywhere near the other Gryffindors, and was staring down at her plate with her head resting on her hand as she pushed around the food with her fork. Santana wondered if something happened to her. 

"Santana?" 

She turned to see Mercedes frowning at her. 

"Aren't you going to fight me for it?" Mercedes held up a chocolate.

"No you can have it." 

Santana went back to looking at Brittany, not noticing her friends' confused stares. 

Then it happened. An owl swooped down over the Gryffindor table, gliding over all the indifferent boys and hopeful looking girls and dropped the envelope right into Brittany's lap. Brittany jumped so hard she banged the table with her knee. Santana saw a few drinks shake, and Brittany grimace in pain, but then her eyes widened as she picked the envelope. She looked to be in shock. All the Gryffindors looked to be in shock. A few girls were whispering amongst each other. Azimio looked stupid with his mouth hanging open. 

Brittany hadn't moved. Since picking the envelope she hadn't moved. She was staring down at it, chest rising and falling slowly. 

The small boy that Brittany had told Santana was called Kurt slid next to her, gently nudging her. Brittany looked up at him, and to Santana's horror, there were tears in her eyes. She couldn't hear what he said to her, but Brittany nodded, wiped her eyes, and turned back to the envelope. 

As Brittany opened it, Santana felt her heart racing. This had already started badly. Brittany was crying, just like she'd feared she would. She couldn't even imagine what her reaction would be to the card itself. 

Again, Brittany stared for a long time, which Santana found unbearable. But then she gently ran her fingers over the front, and smiled. Santana felt her chest release. She closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. It didn't seem like she hated the black. So far so good. 

After about a minute, Brittany opened the card. Santana watched her read it, feeling herself get lighter and lighter as Brittany's smile grew. Then she laughed. It wasn't the hearty laugh of last night. It didn't bunch up her cheeks or force her eyes closed or carry across the great hall, but Santana heard it. A light chuckle. And that's all she'd needed. 

She relaxed completely, smirking proudly to herself, and refocused on her friends. They were all frowning at her. 

"What's going on with you?" Quinn asked. 

"I already told you, nothing." She quickly snatched the chocolate from Mercedes, who was holding it limply in her hand. 

"Hey!" Mercedes shouted. 

"You snooze you lose." Santana said, opening the chocolate and popping it into her mouth. "Thanks for getting it for me."

"You said I could have it."

"You should have eaten it before I changed my mind."

"She has a point Cedes." Mike chuckled. "What were you just standing around for?"

"She was acting weird. Staring off into space like she'd seen a ghost."

"We see ghosts all the time." Santana pointed out. 

"You know what I mean." Mercedes snapped.

"Next time worry less about me and my ghosts and more about eating the chocolate I so kindly let you have. It doesn't happen often."

"Yeah Santana's never kind." Quinn shook her head for emphasis.

"I was talking about giving away chocolate!" Santana threw her spoon across the table at Quinn.

"I did not just see you do that Mrs Lopez." Professor McGonagall's voice came from behind her. Santana turned with wide eyes. "Did you really just throw cutlery at Mrs Fabray."

"No?"

"I should hope not, as that would be extremely uncivilized, and not the kind of behaviour we condone at Hogwarts."

"Of course....Sorry professor."

With narrow eyes, Professor McGonagall nodded curtly and walked off.

"I'm going to get you for that." Santana said, pointing at Quinn.

"And she's back." Mike laughed.

  *********************

Time flew after that. With quidditch practice now added to her schedule, Santana barely noticed the weeks passing. The weather got warmer, which she was eternally grateful for because it meant she no longer left the quidditch pitch feeling frozen to the bone. Her mother had refused to let her bring her own broom, which in a letter she had received from her dad she knew he wasn't happy about at all. He'd promised to be at her next game though, in May. Slytherin against Gryffindor. There was still a month to it, but Santana was already anxious about it. Gryffindor had lost to Hufflepuff, one hundred and eighty points to twenty, which meant that the race for the house cup was still on. Hufflepuff had won all their games so far, which put them in the lead with three hundred and fifty points, and most likely to win. The race would have been between them and Gryffindor, who had won their previous match against Ravenclaw, (two hundred and ten points to forty) and had a total of two hundred and thirty pints, but thanks to the many points Slytherin managed to get in the Hufflepuff game, if they won Gryffindor with enough points, they could win the house cup. The problem was that Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff still had one more game to play, which Ravenclaw had to win for there to be any hope for Slytherin. If they won by only one hundred and fifty points, they would have a total of three hundred and sixty points. Ten more than Hufflepuff. Slytherin had one hundred and seventy. They needed to beat Gryffindor by two hundred points in order to win the cup. 

Santana was very aware of the fact that two hundred points meant either scoring fifty times, making sure Gryffindor scored none and catching the snitch, or keeping three hundred and fifty points ahead of Gryffindor all through the game. 

Either way, it wasn't looking good for them. 

She was making her way to through the castle one evening after a late practice, walking quietly to avoid drawing Mrs Norris or Filch to her when she walked right into Azimio, Puck and Finn. 

"Lopez." Azimio sneered, taking in her quidditch robes. "Out there practicing how you're going to lose?"

Santana took a few steps back to put some distance between them. 

"Not likely with me on the team."

"Oh?" Puck scoffed. "I seem to remember you losing to Hufflepuff."

"Only cause I didn't play for the whole game. Next time I will."

"Just means you'll have a premium seat when we crush you." Finn said.

"Please." Santana laughed. "With your rubbish keeper? I bet I score one hundred points in the first ten minutes."

"Someone thinks highly of themselves." Azimio said, taking a step forward. 

"It's what happens when you're actually good at something. You wouldn't know anything about that would you? Have you even managed to get your broom off the ground?"

"Yes."

"You sure?" Santana smirked. "I mean maybe you ought to try losing some weight so the poor broom can actually fly."

"Watch it Lopez." Azimio scowled, taking another step forward. "I'm not above hitting a girl."

"Of course not." Santana rolled her eyes. "Why would I expect a troll to even know the difference between a girl and boy?"

Azimio lunged at her. Puck tried to hold him back but Azimio was too quick. Not for Santana though, she whipped out her wand before Azimio had reached her and pointed it at his chest. 

"Flipendo" she yelled. 

Azimio went flying backwards, crashing into a suit of armour. The metal clanged loudly, the helmet rolling for several feet until it hit the wall. Azimio groaned but didn't get up. 

"What the bloody…" Sam came running round the corner. He stopped, looked from Azimio to Santana, who still had her wand up, and then to Puck and Finn who were staring dumbly. "Are you three attacking a girl?"

"Azimio-"

But Finn couldn't finish. Sam charged at him, tackling him round the waste. Santana's mouth fell open as he punched Finn square in the mouth. Puck ran towards them, trying to Pull Sam off Finn. Santana jumped as he punched Sam's nose. She saw blood trickling down to Sam's lips. Turning her wand on Puck, she yelled, 

"Locomotor Wibbly"

Puck immediately collapsed to the floor, his legs useless jelly and unable to hold him up.

"What the devil is going on here!" Hagrid's voice boomed, as his large figure rounded the corner. "Ger'off boys, that's it. Stop it now!" He grabbed Sam and Finn by the scruff of their robes and pulled them apart, holding them both dangling in the air. 

"Put us down giant!" Finn shouted. 

"Who are you calling a giant?"

Santana took a step back at the look of anger on Hagrid's face. She had half a mind to run, but Hagrid looked right at her. 

"Don't even think about it. You four are going to Professor McGonagall."

"Snape." Santana said instantly. "I'm a Slytherin."

"Right well…." He looked at her robes and nodded. "Fine. We'll go to McGonagall, cause she's closer, and she can call professor Snape."

With no way to object, Santana clenched her jaw and scowled. 

"Right. Follow me."

Azimio groaned, sitting up and holding his head. 

"Blimey, what happened to him?"

"He attacked me." Santana said, shrugging. 

Hagrid put Sam and Finn down and made his way to Azimio, picking him up by the arm and standing him upright. 

"You alright?"

"Get off me!" Azimio yanked his arm away, though it didn't give since Hagrid's hand was three times the size of a normal man's. "Let go!"

"A thanks would be nice." Hagrid grumbled, standing straight. "All of you follow me."

  ***********

The four of them stood silently in professor McGonagall's office, waiting for professor Snape to arrive. She had stopped Sam's bleeding nose, and sent Azimio to the hospital wing to fix his broken wrist. Though she knew she was in real trouble, Santana couldn't help feeling proud of herself. 

It took ten minutes for Snape to arrive. When he walked in, Professor McGonagall stood up. 

"Thank you for coming professor."

"What's happened?" Snape asked, looking between the four students. He stopped on Santana, and frowned. 

"These four were in a fight."

"She is a girl." Snape said right away.

"Yes, from what I can gather, Mr Adams…"

"Attacked me. He attacked me professor." Santana said, looking at Snape. "He said he wasn't above hitting a girl."

"It's true professor Snape." Sam said. "That's when I came in."

"You weren't there." Puck said. "How do you know what he said."

"I was just defending myself professor, he was going to hit me."

"Enough." Professor McGonagall said, silencing them all. She sighed and turned to Snape. 

"How do you want to proceed Professor?" She asked Snape. "We need the full story-"

Still looking at Santana, he said, "But there is no way of knowing for sure..."

"Well." McGonagall said. "I've sent Hagrid to ask the portraits."

Puck and Finn looked worried at this. 

"Very well." Snape drawled, finally turning to McGonagall. "Let us hear what Hagrid has to say, and then we will decide. However it is clear that there are three Gryffindors involved-"

"Four." Santana corrected. "Azimio is in the hospital wing."

Snape's lip curled slightly. 

"Four." He said. "And only one Slytherin. It is not hard to guess what happened."

"No…" McGonagall said gravely. "It is not."

  ************

Hagrid's story matched Santana and Sam's, which seemed to be the opposite of what Professor McGonagall had wanted to hear. She sighed heavily, seating herself in her chair. 

"Sixty points will be taken from Mr Adams." She said. "He will serve detention every day for a month and I will be writing to his parents. In fact I have half a mind to expel him."

"Professor I don't think he was really going to attack her." Finn rushed out. "I think he was just trying to scare her."

"Regardless. I cannot believe that members of my own house…" words seemed to fail her. She stood up, pinching the bridge of her nose. "A month's detention and thirty points from both of you." She pointed at Finn and Puck. "For being a part of this at all. Ten from you Mr Evans" she said to Sam. "Noble as your intentions were, there is no excuse for fighting." Pouting, Sam nodded. 

"Now Mrs Lopez, I understand that you were defending yourself, so I will not hold the knockback jinx against you. But after that you should have gone to get a teacher. Attacking Mr Puckerman-"

"Puck"

"Don't test me." McGonagall pointed at Puck, her eyes narrow and lips thin as Santana had ever seen them. 

"Attacking Mr Puckerman was wrong. I will take ten points."

Santana looked pleadingly at Snape. 

"Professor if I may." Snape said. "I hardly think it fair to punish the victim in this situation. She was after all ambushed, by boys no less."

"Yes, very well." McGonagall nodded. Santana smiled. "No points will be taken, but you and Mr Evans will both serve one detention."

"Professor-" Santana tried to say, but she was cut off by a look from Snape. 

"Fighting is not permitted at Hogwarts." McGonagall said with finality. "Under any circumstances. Casting offensive spells outside the confines of a defence against the dark arts classroom is not permitted, under any circumstances. I am sorry Mrs Lopez, but my decision is final."

  *********

  "He was going to hit you?!" Sebastian asked for the fifth time, standing up from the armchair. 

"How many times does he get to ask before I can stop answering." Santana mumbled to Quinn.

"And he didn't get expelled?"

"He never actually got to touch me…I guess you can't expel someone for intending to hit a girl."

"You should be able to." Quinn said. She'd been glaring at the table from the time Santana had finished her story the first time around, nearly fifteen minutes ago. "I can't believe McGonagall gave you detention. You should write home Santana, it's not fair."

"Yeah right. Like I'm going to tell me mother that three boys attacked me. You know what kind of a storm she'll kick up?"

"Good!" Sebastian yelled. "Maybe it'll get him thrown out."

"I don't need my mother coming here to defend me." Santana rolled her eyes. "He never touched me, are we forgetting that?"

"He tried to, which means he'll try again." Quinn said. 

"Let him try." Sebastian scowled. "Let him try get anywhere near you again."

"Shhhh" Santana held her finger to her lips as Leon walked into the common room. He looked around, spotted Santana, and walked towards her.

"What have you done this time?" he asked, looking her over.

"Excuse you?"

"Why is Snape telling me to come check on you? Did you do something stupid like go into the forest or something?"

"Don't be thick. What would I go poking around in the forest for?"

"Why did you go into the dungeons?"

Santana clicked her tongue. "What do you want Leon?"

"Snape told me to come check on you."

"Well I'm fine."

"So Snape's worried about you for nothing then is he?"

"Must be."

Narrowing his eyes, Leon turned to Quinn.

"What's wrong with her?"

Quinn pressed her lips together and looked at Santana. 

Santana tried to subtly shake her head. 

"Quinn…" Leon pressed. 

Quinn shook her head at Santana and sighed. 

"I don't know."

"Quinn!"

"I don't know!" 

"Yes you do. You have that guilty look you always do when Santana does something wrong but you don't want to tell on her."

"I didn't do anything." Santana cut in. "Guess I'm just Snape's favourite student. He wants to make sure I'm fine cause I'm about to win us the house cup."

"She's lying."

Santana's attention snapped to Sebastian, who was frowning heavily.

"I know that." Leon said. "Do you know what she doesn't want to tell me?"

"Yeah"

"Sebastian leave it alone."

"Don't" Quinn shook her head.

Glaring at the both of them, Sebastian said, "Three Gryffindor boys attacked her."

Leon's face hardened. Santana saw his jaw clenching powerfully. 

"What?"

"They attacked her in the corridor just-"

"Shut up, they didn't all attack me." Santana said, seeing Leon clench his fists. "One of them attacked me, and he didn't even touch me, I blasted him back."

"But he tried to?" Leon asked. 

"Whatever, I'm fine. Don't make a big deal-"

"Oh, yeah…" Leon backed up slowly. "Some slimy first years try to beat up my sister and I'm just going to let it go."

"You should. They're not going to try again."

"You're right about that." He stopped, fixing Santana with a deep stare. "Are you sure you're okay? Don't lie to me."

"I'm fine. Like I told you, they never touched me."

Nodding, Leon turned and stormed out of the common room. 

"Great." Quinn sighed, looking at Sebastian. "What did you do that for?"

"He deserved to know. I hope he curses those weasels so bad they end up at St Mungo's."

"You want my brother expelled?" Santana asked. 

"Like Snape would let him get expelled."

"A fifth year hexing a first year, you think Dumbledore will let that go?"

"Fine. Maybe he should punch them out."

Severely irritated, Santana stood up. "I'm going to bed. You better hope he doesn't do anything stupid cause you can't keep your mouth shut."

  **************

Snape stopped Santana leaving double potions on Friday morning to give her a detention slip. 

"Sir." She said as she took it. "I actually have to do it?"

"Professor McGonagall is the deputy headmistress, and she seems to think that you need a lesson in restraint. Don't worry Lopez, you will only be serving one hour this evening. Take the time to finish your homework."

While she still wasn't happy about her situation, Santana was at least glad to find out she wouldn't be doing any manual labour. She'd heard that people often had to clean things during detention, usually messes that peeves created. She'd even heard a rumour that some people had been sent into the forbidden forest. 

Her slip simply said to go to Professor McGonagall's office at nine, so after dinner she said goodbye to Quinn and Sebastian and made her way there. 

She knocked. 

"Enter."

Santana pushed the door to the small study open. The fireplace was lit, filling the room with a comforting sort of warmth. Very different from the last time Santana had been in there. 

"Ah Mrs Lopez. Yes come in."

Santana walked into the room and closed the door. 

"Right on time, good. Have a seat."

There was a desk in the corner of the room, which Santana assumed had been brought in specifically for her. She sat down, dropping her bag onto the desk.

"One hour, do your homework or study. No magic."

Nodding somberly, Santana took out her books. Unfortunately for her, she didn't have that much homework. Snape hadn't given them any, and she hadn't had astronomy yet, so all she had to do was write a short essay for professor sprout, listing the properties and uses of Urtica dioica, the stinging nettle, which they'd been studying in class that day. 

Santana took her time looking for the correct page. She stopped every so often when she saw an interesting or creepy looking plant, and read a bit about it to pass the time. When she did eventually get to the page she needed, she wrote as slowly as she could, changing her handwriting for every new sentence just to see how different she could make it. 

All of that only took twenty five minutes. 

With nothing left to occupy herself with, Santana began to look around the room. It was bare. Nothing personal on the walls or McGonagall's desk, just books and parchment. The office had a large window, which overlooked the training grounds and the quidditch pitch. Santana couldn't see much because of how dark It was, but she could just make out one of the goal posts. It made her think of the upcoming match against Gryffindor, and the fact that her dad was coming to watch her. Quidditch was the only thing that her dad really cared about when it came to her or Leon. He didn't care about their grades, didn't care about them staying out late or, where they were even going. Santana grew up knowing that whatever she did, her dad didn't really care one way or the other, except when it came to Quidditch. He wasn't always willing to take them out to diagon alley, and sometimes he complained about them taking too many vacations, but if you wanted to practice on a broom, he would drop whatever he was doing. 

Him being at the game added a whole new element of pressure. This wasn't him bewitching a quaffle so she could try catch it, this was a real quiditch match. She would be scoring real goals that actually mattered, and if she did really well, she could win Slytherin the house cup. 

Not wanting to work herself up about that particular problem just yet, Santana forced herself to think of something else. She wondered whether her mother would be coming to watch the match. It didn't seem likely, since her mother didn't approve of her playing quidditch at all.

Her brow creasing slightly, Santana turned to professor McGonagall. She'd been teaching at Hogwarts for decades. She'd taught both of Santana's parents, probably her abuela too. 

"Professor?"

McGonagall looked up from whatever she was writing. 

"Yes?"

"Did you know my parents?" McGonagall frowned. "I mean, do you remember them?"

McGonagall looked back down and continued writing. She didn't answer. After nearly a minute Santana figured she wasn't going to. She pulled her herbology text book closer to her, deciding to try find something interesting to read about for the next twenty minutes, when McGonagall spoke. 

"I do." She said. "Your father more than your mother. I suspect all the teachers who taught him will have a hard time forgetting him."

"Why is that?"

"Because he was…well, he has always enjoyed flying." McGonagall looked up, looking amused. "As soon as he was allowed to bring a broom to school, he flew it everywhere."

"What like…all over the grounds?"

"The grounds, inside the castle…"

"Really?" Santana chuckled. 

"Oh yes. Despite multiple detentions, letters written home, confiscating the broom itself, as soon as he got it back there he would be, flying through the corridors. Peeves thought he was a riot."

"Really?" Santana asked again, unable to picture it. Her dad wasn't exactly a stickler for the rules, but she would never have pegged him as the kind of kid who got respect from Peeves. For that he must have caused a lot of chaos. 

"Oh yes."

Santana thought about this for a while, wondering where that version of her father had gone. Though if she really thought about it, a kid who flew to class instead of walking, even though he would get in trouble every single time, was a kid who didn't care about anything, and that was exactly her father. Nothing mattered but flying. 

"Then…did you also know my uncle?"

McGonagall suddenly looked sad. She stopped writing and looked at Santana. 

"Yes." She nodded. "Very sad business."

Santana nodded along, like she knew what McGonagall was talking about. She didn't want to risk her finding out Santana hadn't been told and refusing to say more. 

"Very sad."

"He was a talented wizard. Very talented, not unlike yourself actually." McGonagall said with a warm smile. "Of course natural talent alone does not a good witch make."

"Of course." Santana nodded. 

"You must work hard, practice, study discipline." McGonagall said sternly. 

"Yes professor."

She softened. "But, Theo was a brilliant student. He would have been a great wizard. Many thought he would take after Professor Dumbledore himself."

Santana was stunned. If her uncle was set to be the next Dumbledore, then what had happened to him? Had he gone dark? It would explain why no one talked about him. Why he was kept a secret. Her mother's words rang in her ears. The way she had reacted to Santana being called brilliant playing over in her head. Did her mother think she was going to go dark too?

"Professor?" Santana said carefully. "Can you tell me what exactly happened to my uncle?"

McGonagall frowned at her. 

"I am not sure it is my place Lopez."

"Please professor." Santana took a breath, deciding to be honest. "You said yourself that we are alike, my uncle and I, and my mother seems to be afraid of what that similarity means. I want to know what she is afraid I will do…"

McGonagall studied Santana's face for a long moment. Finally, she sighed, putting down her quill and sitting back in her chair. 

"Very well."

Santana sat up straight, eager to hear everything. 

"Well…being gifted is not always an easy thing. Often times, you require extra stimulation. I am not sure if you have experienced this yet, but given the spell you cast on Mr Puckerman the other night, I will say that you have."

"Experienced what?"

"As you are able to easily pick up spells, you in turn quickly tire of the rudimentary material. That is to say that while you are a first year in age, your mind progresses much faster."

Santana could agree with this. It would explain why she was already looking through third year books, practicing spells that she wouldn't be taught until fifth year. She liked the challenge.

"Your uncle was like this. On his free periods he would sit in on older classes. I myself was one of the professors that allowed this." She shook her head. "I regret that now."

"Why?" Santana asked quickly. 

"Because the curriculum is set for each year by design. Not just because of difficulty. Being gifted doesn't give you the maturity to handle certain content. He was still a child, and we should have treated him as such. Exposing him to such dangerous creatures and spells at a young age because he could perform the spells was an error on our part. It…ended up encouraging him to believe he was unstoppable. That he could handle whatever he faced. By the time he was in his fifth year your uncle had grown tired of sitting in a classroom. He believed he was ready for the real world. He wanted to be an auror you see, and believed that since he could probably pass his NEWT exams if allowed to sit them, that he could leave Hogwarts and join the ministry. 

Dumbledore of course refused to let him sit the NEWT exams, and advised the rest of us teachers to keep an eye on Theo. That is how we noticed that he was spending a lot of time in the restricted section of the library, reading about very powerful, very dangerous spells. Knowing it was only a matter of time before he attempted one of those spells, Professor Dumbledore decided that he should no longer be given special treatment. No sitting through classes above his year, no access to the restricted section."

"But it was too late wasn't it?"

Santana didn't like where this story was going. She didn't like the sad look on McGonagall's face as she nodded. 

"Your uncle did not take well to his new restrictions. He became disruptive in class. Argumentative. Angry." McGonagall sighed. "He started to threaten teachers, claiming we were just threatened by his superior talent. That if he was to duel us he would win so we were afraid of him. He would go on and on about how one day he would show us all. One day we would see how great he was." McGonagall shook her head. "We did not know at that time what he was planning to do."

Santana's stomach clenched, forcing her to take quick shallow breaths. She didn't like where this story was going at all. 

"Your father had already left the school by this point. Your mother was in her seventh year. She was the one who informed us of Theo's plan. He had gone into the forbidden forest, in search of a creature- a monster he could defeat, to prove his abilities. We of course went after him immediately, but could not find him. By sunrise the following morning, professor Dumbledore elicited help from the centaurs. He was found just after sundown…"

Santana could barely breathe. 

"Dead?" She asked. 

McGonagall nodded. "I am afraid so."

"He died professor?"

McGonagall looked at Santana, frowning slightly. "Do you mean to tell me you did not know?"

Santana couldn't answer. Her mind was racing. That's why her mother was always worried about Santana killing herself. That's why she was never as pleased when Santana was able to do magic with Leon's wand when she was younger. That's why she hated that Santana thought she was great. She was afraid she would get the same idea to go prove just how great she really was. That she would go looking for danger. 

And she had. 

Isn't that exactly what she had done on Halloween? Foolishly thinking that because they had learned a few spells they could handle a troll? Isn't that why she pushed herself in quidditch? Doing dangerous stunts and tricks? To prove she was a great quidditch player? To be impressive? Sure she wasn't a thrill seeker. She hadn't gone to the dungeons in search of a troll to fight, but she could see herself doing just that in a few years. When she did actually know powerful and dangerous spells, Santana would one hundred percent go looking for something to try them on. She wouldn't be content to just know the spells. She'd need to show that she could use them. 

"Mrs Lopez"

Santana was looking at professor McGonagall but not seeing her. Her previously racing brain now felt like it was suddenly empty. The only thought being that her uncle died. Her brilliant, gifted, slated to be as talented as a young Dumbledore, uncle had gone into the forest to prove how powerful he was and had died. Died. 

"Mrs Lopez."

"He died."

"Santana!"

Santana blinked, her eyes focusing on McGonagall. 

"What happened to your uncle was a tragedy, but we have all learned from it. We know better, and now…" She dipped her head, forcing Santana's eyes to lock with hers. "Now you know better too."

  ********

Santana left McGonagall's office ten minutes later still in shock. Her father had a younger brother who was just like her. She could imagine growing up with him around, encouraging her, teaching her spells. She was sure that they would have gotten up to all kinds of shenanigans. And since he'd be alive her mother might actually have been proud of her achievements growing up. But he'd died. She hadn't known him at all and yet, she missed him. It would have been nice to have someone in the family like her. 

"Hi Santana."

Santana, who had been watching her feet as she walked down the stairs, looked up to see Brittany coming up. She smiled, small, but enough to be noticeable, which made Brittany smile even bigger and run up to her step. 

"Of course." 

"What?" Brittany asked. 

"I always seem to run into you when I'm feeling…"

"Sad?" Brittany asked, looking worried. 

Santana shook her head. "Overwhelmed."

"Oh." Brittany nodded. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Santana shrugged. She was tired, but talking to Brittany had helped in the past, so she sat down right there on the step. 

"Okay." Brittany giggled, sitting as well. 

They were silent. Santana didn't really know what to say. She wasn't sure what she was feeling exactly. She hadn't even met her uncle, but it felt like she'd lost him. She was sad that her life had to be so different because he died. She was also having small revelations. Moments in her life that hadn't made sense before now did. Moments where she was in trouble with her mother or her abuela. Moments when she'd do something she was so proud of, like the first time she made a flower grow in the garden when she was four, and her abuelo and father would share a look before acknowledging what she'd done. Her whole life she'd been chasing her family's approval, and now she knew that she'd never get it. Not from all of them anyway.

If she was too good, she'd be worrying her mother and grandmother not making them proud, and if she didn't try she'd be letting her father and grandfather down. 

"Family is complicated." She finally said. Brittany cocked her head to the side. 

"Is it?"

"Yeah."

"I'd say it's simple. It's the only simple thing in the world. You're born into this group of people who love you no matter what. They're your people." Brittany shrugged. "Always."

"Mmhh" Santana grunted. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her knees, looking at the floor. "What if you don't feel their love?" She asked quietly. "What if sometimes you're not so sure they really love you?"

"You just have to trust that they do."

Again Santana went silent. She was being dramatic. She was being ridiculous. She knew her family loved her, she didn't even know why she'd said that. 

"Yeah." She nodded. "You're right, it's not complicated-"

"Santana." Brittany said, cutting Santana off. Santana turned to look at her. "Sometimes your family can love you, but it's not the best kind of love…for you. It doesn't mean they don't love you, it just means…it's like you need a different kind of love than they can give…like…like they always give you hugs and maybe you don't like hugs, but hugs are all they know. Or maybe…maybe like…" Brittany let out a sharp frustrated breath. "I'm not explaining it right. Sorry, it must sound really stupid-"

"Hey." Santana put her hand on Brittany's knee. "If I'm not allowed to imply that you're stupid, which I didn't, then neither are you."

Brittany smiled, nodding. 

"Take a breath, and just explain what you mean."

Brittany took a deep breath. 

"My grandfather told me once, that love is like a wand. He said that most of the time you can use any wand, and it will work. And if you grow up using any old wand, it doesn't mean you haven't been doing magic right?" Santana nodded. "Right, and you don't know any better, so you're happy. But there is a wand out there that is your wand. The best wand for you. The one that will work best for you and only you."

"Okay…"

"Well, some people are happy to just use any wand that feels okay, any wand that lets them do magic. But there are some people that need to find their wand. Some people feel like every other wand that isn't their wand is wrong."

Santana bit her lip. That sounded a lot like her. 

"That makes sense."

Brittany nodded. "I feel like that." She said. "My family loves me, and I know they do, but…I also know that I don't really fit…with them. It's more work for us to love each other than….well like me and my grandad. He loved me the right way." Brittany smiled sadly. 

"Loved?" Santana asked. 

"Yeah. He died last year, just before I got my Hogwart's letter."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Thanks. He gave me Lord Tubbington when I was nine, after some girls in the muggle school I was in said I wasn't invited to a sleepover. I was really sad about that. Usually I didn't mind that I didn't have friends, but that was…" Brittany pursed her lips and shrugged. "I was really sad."

"So he just showed up with a cat?"

"Well my parents tried to cheer me up first. They offered to take me out for ice cream, asked if I wanted them to read me a story, my dad even offered to transfigure things into funny shapes to make me laugh. I love it when he does that normally. But I was too sad, I just wanted to go to sleep. So they left me alone. The next morning my grandad showed up at our house with Lord Tubbington. He was really skinny and had some fur falling off and had injured his paw. I asked my grandad what was wrong with him and he said no one wanted to have sleepovers with him either."

"Woah…" Santana breathed. 

"Yeah." Brittany nodded. "He got me, you know? He got that I wasn't just sad…I felt exactly like Lord Tubbington on the inside. So, me and LT, we've been looking out for each other since."

Santana smiled, removing her hand from Brittany's knee. 

"That's nice. Your grandfather seems really nice."

"Yeah, but now he's gone, and I only have my parents and sister who-"

"Aren't your perfect wand." Santana said, completely understanding. 

"Yeah."

Santana nodded. "Me too. I mean I have Quinn…" she said thoughtfully. "She's…I think she might be the closest I'll ever get to finding my…"

"Wand?" Brittany asked smiling.

"Yeah wand." Santana chuckled. "She gets me, kind of like your grandfather."

"She seems a little scary."

Santana laughed. "Yeah, she thinks she is."

"You guys seem close." Brittany said, her smile fading. "I saw you on the train at King's Cross…Quinn looked kinda sad…and I thought, those two are best friends."

Santana smiled. Quinn was the best friend she could ask for. They were very similar, and having known each other from birth, they often knew how to be there for each other. Often, but not all the time. Sometimes they got it wrong. Sometimes they frustrated each other. Sometimes they didn't agree with each other. Sometimes what Quinn knew how to do for Santana wasn't enough. So as much as she loved Quinn, and as much as she was glad to have her as a best friend, Santana wouldn't say that Quinn loved her in the best way for her. 

"So did your grandfather say how you should go about finding your wand?"

Brittany shook her head.

"I think you just have to keep looking," she turned to look at Santana, "until something feels right." 

"What in the name of Merlin do you two think you're doing?"

Santana shot up, spinning on the spot and nearly falling down the stairs. 

"Professor Lupin."

Lupin marched towards them. "Explain yourselves."

"I had detention with Professor McGonagall." Santana rushed out. 

"I-I was…" Brittany glanced sideways at Santana. 

"Yes?" Professor Lupin asked, crossing his arms. 

"I was with professor Sprout. She's been helping me with Herbology because I'm…I'm not doing so well sir."

"Oh I see." Professor Lupin dropped his arms. "And if I were to confer with Professor Sprout she would say the same?"

"Yes sir."

"Very well, but neither of you should be hanging around the corridors at this time. Do you have any idea how happy Filch would be to catch you? Of to bed, both of you."

Santana quickly grabbed her bag, shouldering it. 

"Goodnight." She said to Brittany, who was already making her way up the stairs. She stopped and looked back at Santana, looking shocked. 

"Goodnight." She said with a small smile.

Santana turned and walked down the stairs, all thoughts of her uncle gone from her mind.