Inell's Fanfiction Archive

Clever Mischief: Chapter 5: Maturity is Overrated
Date: Monday, August 29, 2005
Location: Hogwarts grounds
Character: Oliver, Fred, George, Hermione
Rating: Any Age



Oliver Wood bounced on the balls of his toes exuberantly, almost as if trying to get airborne even without the aid of a broom. "I was down the pub this morning and Rosie told me I'd be over the moon about the new proprietors in town."

"Incorrigible gossip," Fred laughed, not indicating entirely whether he meant Rosmerta or Oliver himself.

"Told us she'd keep it to herself," George put in.

Oliver shook his head. "She didn't name names. I thought maybe it was a new Quidditch shop. I need a new broom and it'd be perfect timing."

"You hear that Fred?" George asked, tone mortally offended. "He doesn't want us. Wants another ruddy Quidditch shop."

"One track mind, Ollie, that's you," Fred teased, leaning casually against the base of one of the spectator boxes.

"I was just going to nip back to my office," Oliver said, ignoring them. "Unless you want a little scramble?" His eyes shot upward, indicating the air above the Pitch.

"Don't have our brooms with us," Fred said sweetly.

"Else we'd take you up on that."

"And clean your clock while we were at it."

"You wish," Oliver shot back, and his voice was so reminiscent of when he'd been their fanatical and at times commanding Quidditch captain that both twins shivered. "I do this for living, ladies. And you couldn't take me on your best days."

George slung an arm around Oliver's shoulder. "Come on, mate. Let's go see your office. It gives you such respectability."

"And be sure to regale us about tales from Puddlemere and Wimbourne while you're at it," Fred said with an exaggerated sigh. "That way we'll be sure to sleep well tonight."

Oliver rolled his eyes and set off at a brisk pace toward Hogwarts proper, the twins following easily. It was eerie how little the castle and grounds had changed since the twins' tenure there. The Whomping Willow still swayed on the horizon with gentle menace, and a curl of smoke meandered skyward from the gameskeeper's hut. The Forbidden Forest hemmed them in on one side, the lake bracketing the other, its surface glassy and calm.

"It'll be a madhouse here in a couple days," Oliver commented idly. "Train arrives September 1st, just like always."

"Things really don't change, do they?" George asked.

"Oh, I don't know about that. Most of the staff is new. Minerva's still headmistress of course."

"She still as scary as ever?" Fred asked.

"Please," Oliver sniffed. "She is my colleague and my employer. She's even scarier."

The twins burst out laughing as Oliver opened the door of one of the many back entrances. Through a dimly lit corridor that made them squint after the intense late August sunshine, they made their way to the Quidditch coach's office. Oliver had plastered the place with posters and the zooming, discordantly coordinated movements of dozens of Quidditch teams made the walls look as though they were undulating. Fred grinned, though the costant motion+ it made George feel a bit sick.

"So. Any special ladies in your life, Ollie?" George asked as they settled themselves into comfortably smushy, mismatched armchairs.

"McGonagall?" Fred asked, staring at the tartan fabric covering the chairs.

Oliver shot him a confused look. "I'm not dating Miner- Oh. The chairs. Right. No, I got engaged to, um."

"Lovely girl, Um," Fred commented.

"Know her well," George agreed.

"Actually, you do," Oliver said, blushing furiously. "It's, well. You remember when Percy was dating Penny Clearwater, right?"

The twins did a double take. "You and Penelope Clearwater?" Fred said incredulously.

"Does Percy know?" George asked with an insidious smile.

"He does indeed, boys, so don't even think that breaking the news to him would be a fun thing to do."

Fred smiled sweetly. "Would we do a thing like that?"

Oliver didn't even dignify that with a response.

They chatted for a while about family and old friends until Oliver glanced at the battered grandfather clock in the corner. "Nearly dinner. You two want to join me in the great hall? It's just staff but-"

"No, no, no," the twins said at the same time, waving their hands before them.

"We're swearing you to silence, Oliver," Fred said in his sternest voice.

"The rest of the professors absolutely cannot know that we're back. We want them to be..."

"Surprised," they finished together, sharing a look.

Oliver shook his head. "That's just evil."

"Does Filch still work here?" George said sweetly.

Oliver nodded, covering his mouth as he started giggling in a most unprofessor-like way when the twins' smiles turned absolutely wicked. Oh, the problems they were going to cause Filch.

"What about Pince? Nothing like a good loud BANG in the library to shake things up a bit," Fred said.

"No, she died a few years back now," Oliver said, opening the door and ushering the twins out. "Hermione Granger took over from her."

Fred and George both paused and for once in their lives didn't exchange a swift, meaningful glance. Fred was caught up in a single, potent moment of memory. Hermione saying that their original Patented Daydream Charms really were extraordinary magic. He'd never told anyone, not even George- not even George!- that he'd found himself with something of a crush on the officious little swot that year. It had passed of course. Crushes always passed. Always.

George, meanwhile, was lost in a sudden reverie, images of Hermione Granger, bookish, bossy serial-studier, on the battlefield, hair whipping around her and looking for all the world like a seasoned hit wizard, backlit by killing green light.

Oliver glanced at both twins, surprised by their sudden and complete lack of banter. "Er. Well. This is my turn, lads," he said, nodding toward the entrance of the Great Hall. "You've got my word as a Gryffindor that I shan't tell a soul you're back."

Fred and George came back to themselves, laughing at Oliver's mock seriousness. "Better not," Fred admonished, wagging a finger at him.

"Enjoy dinner, Ollie dear," George said, sounding rather like Molly Weasley.

The twins waved their friend off and glanced at each other at last.

"You know," Fred said as casually as possible, "it might be fun to swing by the library."

"See if the eminent Miss Granger remembers us," George said thoughtfully.

"Maybe drop a batbomb in the Restricted Section."

"Oh, I like that. Have her cleaning bats out of the rafters for days to come."

"A good way of making certain she keeps on remembering us, to be sure."

With twin nods, they set off toward the library at an entirely slow and nonchalant pace, heads swiveling to keep an eye out for any passing teachers.

***

There was still so much to do to get ready for the first day of school. With Diagon Alley destroyed and no attempt to rebuild, as it had been with most towns hit hard during the war, the basic supplies for all students were sent to the library. It had been that way since the school reopened. That meant that Hermione had half of her library filled with large boxes until September 2.

Over the past couple of days, she'd sorted and organized most of the supplies. Luckily, Seamus had become quite good at sorting over the years he'd helped her with that huge task and she'd also had help this year from Neville and Kingsley, who had both dropped by at various times when they'd had a break in their own preparations for the school year.

The boxes were now organized alphabetically by house and year for the second through seventh years while the first years still had to be sorted alphabetically. She'd put standard charms on everything so she'd be able to call the necessary items to her upon the student's signature on the parchment and now only had a few minor things left to arrange before Thursday.

Her plan was to sort the first year supplies after dinner so she'd be able to spend tomorrow getting the stacks cleaned and in excellent shape for the students. She always skipped lunch and usually dinner the three days prior to the start of the year so Dobby had brought her a sandwich and pumpkin juice and left it on her desk shortly after noon. She considered finally stopping to eat now, as it was nearly dinner time, but she'd just found a box of 'Properties of Arithmancy' texts that had been misplaced and now had to sort them and find the correct boxes to group them in with the students' other supplies.

It was one time when magic could not take away the sheer time the task would take. She pulled her hair up into a messy pony tail, kicked off her shoes to get more comfortable, and leaned over to reach into the large box to find the student list for the text.

As she worked, the twins made their way through the castle with the ease of practiced pranksters. This was their turf after all, their training ground, and they could move as silently through this space as their own shadows. They slipped into the library with comfortable familiarity, whispering through the bookshelves until they came across its sole occupant.

The shoeless young woman was in her mid-twenties, with riotous hair and a quietly determined expression. Two things slammed into both Fred and George, though neither shared it with the other: Hermione Granger was somehow just the same and completely different than she'd been so many years ago, and she was beautiful. Beautiful in an unaffected, unintentional kind of way, beautiful in a "no I'm not, don't talk such rubbish!" manner.

Hermione huffed. Where was the bloody list? She planned to find out who had packed this box and send them a howler. They were expected to always put the student list and paperwork on the top of the books but it wasn't there. They obviously hadn't been paying attention or the list had slid between the books and the box.

Hermione cursed under her breath as she leaned over further to slide her hand down into the small gap. She reached with her fingertips to feel the parchment but couldn't feel it. If they'd put the parchment beneath the books, she was going to include a hex with that howler.

"Yes!" she murmured with a hint of triumph as she felt parchment finally. She bit her lip when she felt the parchment cut her forefinger but was able to get a good enough grip to pull it out.

Fred glanced at George just in time to miss the fact that he stared at her a bit too long and they exchanged a nod, splitting up and circling deftly around Hermione, moving from shelf to shelf on either side of her until they were standing behind her. They tiptoed ahead, completely silent until they were only a pace away and then leaned forward, one head near each of her ears. She'd just straightened up when she suddenly heard someone whisper.

"Hallo, love," Fred murmured.

"It's been ever so long," George added.

For a moment, she thought Seamus was teasing her but soon dismissed that notion as the voice wasn't at all like Shay's nor was it Kingsley or Neville. Warm breath against her other ear and a mention of it being too long. Two voices, so alike, whispered against her ear. With sudden clarity, she placed the voices.

She hadn't heard that the twins were back. She'd just had an owl from Ron on Monday and he'd not said a word about his brothers returning from North America. Hermione was a bit annoyed at there being knowledge she'd not received about people she'd considered friends for several years. It had been far too long since she'd seen them and, to be quite honest, she'd missed them.

"It's nice to know that those six and a half years at Hogwarts did teach you boys something, after all," she said as she unfolded her list and pretended to read it. "I never thought I'd see the day Fred and George Weasley were not only willingly visiting the library but also actually following the rules by keeping their voices in a whisper."

Identical grins crossed their faces.

"Barely a flinch in surprise," Fred said. "I'm impressed."

"And a witty comeback to boot," George pointed out.

"What can we say, Hermione?"

"We've changed."

"Repented."

"We'll never break another rule again."

At the top of his lungs, Fred bellowed, "NOT EVER!"

"You've obviously changed quite a bit," she said smoothly, a smirk crossing her lips as Fred, she was certain it was Fred on her left, yelled into the silent library. "After all, I sincerely doubt many men your age behave like first years. I'd imagine there must a lot of de-evolution to achieve that feat."

She licked her finger and primly turned the page of the booklet that had accompanied her books. She didn't look at either of them as she perused the list. "Breaking a rule somehow loses its affect if it is merely done for theatrical reasons, Fred," she mused thoughtfully.

She couldn't stop herself from smiling as she slipped easily into the banter that had become a comfort during the latter months of the war. She wanted to put down the list and take a good look at them as it had been five years, at least, since she'd last seen them. There were questions she wanted to ask, too. Were they visiting? Why were they at Hogwarts? Were they staying in Britain or going back to Canada?

Instead, she offered helpfully, "It is far more daring if it happens spontaneously and is not simply intended as an attention-seeking device. If you're having issues with craving attention, Fred, I'm certain I've seen a book around here that you might find beneficial. Although, I do not, of course, encourage the breaking of rules as they are made for a reason."

George laughed in utter delight. Hermione Granger was all grown up and she could definitely take care of herself. "Yeah, Fred," he said. "You should really stop acting like an infant. I'm the mature one," he told Hermione with a wink.

"Are not," Fred pouted.

"Am too. Tell him, Hermione. I always have been."

"Just because you're two bloody minutes older-"

"Three and a half, thank you-"

"Doesn't mean I'm not just as adult as you." Fred leaned in close to Hermione. "Come on, love, tell us what you think. Been a few years since you saw us last, you'll be able to tell better."

George rolled his eyes. "And while you're at it, tell us what you've been up to. Been quite a while, and last time we were all in the same room, I don't think Hogwarts librarian was on your agenda."

"Though I suppose being illegal aliens in Canada wasn't really on ours, either."

Listening to them took her back several years, to a time before war became reality. There had been so many nights when she had sat in the common room reading by the fire and listened to the twins volley back and forth over everything from homework to chess to Quidditch.

It hadn't been until sixth year, after they were gone, that she'd realized how much they'd become a part of her environment. During the months of the war when she, Harry, and Ron had been at Godric's Hollow, Fred and George had again become a familiar part of her life, even if mostly on the peripheral.

Hermione finally put down her list and smiled as she looked up. She carefully concealed her reaction to their appearance, as that was something that had certainly changed since she'd last seen them. Their hair was longer than she'd ever seen it and complimented the angles and length of their faces extremely well. They were still so very tall and lean, shoulders broad and arms developed in a way that caused her gaze to linger for nearly a moment too long.

It wasn't just physical, however. She really couldn't care less how they looked. They'd always been attractive, after all, so that wasn't a change, though the hair did actually make them more appealing if you happened to like that sort of thing, which, judging from her slight reaction to said hair, Hermione did. No, it wasn't their looks that had changed, really. It was something she couldn't quite place, which she found rather annoying. In the end, she knew it was most likely war that had changed them, as it had everyone who participated and survived, and the years since as they'd lived lives she knew nothing about.

"As the definition of mature is 'to reach full development, either mental or physical', I refuse to choose one or the other as it fits neither of you. Theoretically speaking, I don't think anyone actually reaches true maturity ever because we learn every day so life, in itself, is a constant growth process and full development is never reached," she declared. "However, I will say that it would not be an issue that could be decided based on the behavior I've witnessed this afternoon so I'd need far more evidence to make such a determination. Maturity is highly overrated, though, so I don't foresee a true need for continued observation in that regard."

Fred laughed, nudging her with his elbow. "What you say makes sense. Can hardly tell if we're more mature than we once were during one little afternoon. We'll have to make a point of showing up here more often."

George looked at Fred surreptitiously. Since when would he volunteer them to haunt the library to prove his maturity of all things to Hermione Granger? Still, George wasn't about to contradict him. He was... intrigued by the young woman before him. Hermione reminded him of the girl he'd known all those years ago at Godric's Hollow but she'd changed too. She was tougher, maybe. Not as easy to stir up.

" I think I'd like you to put that in writing as I think it's the first time in the fourteen years that I've known you both when you said I made sense. Now if you'd only admit that I'm always right, I can finally sleep well at night. And you want to show up here more often? So you are back to stay then. If you were simply visiting while on holiday, you'd not make such a firm statement," she mused thoughtfully as she looked from Fred to George, trying to decide what they were hiding.

They hadn't decided beforehand if they were going to tell her they were back for good, so Fred decided that distraction was the best technique for answering. "I'm not sure if I agree with you about maturity, love," he said, flexing a lean but well developed bicep at her. "I rather think we're physically developed, at any rate."

"Do try not to scare the lady, Fred," George laughed, a rakish smile turning his lips upward as he smoothed a hand over his hair, pulled into a loose ponytail just like Fred's.

Hermione allowed her gaze to move over Fred's bicep and Fred grinned, flattered. While she had to admit that their bodies were easily worthy of a second glance, she had no intention of telling them that. Instead, she yawned theatrically and shrugged. "At least you're both no longer so skinny that a strong wind might knock you over," she finally relented with a mischievous smirk. With a wry smile, she remembered, "I think the last time we were all in the same room, George, the only thing on my agenda was getting out of St. Mungos. I can't believe it's been that long. Ron told me you'd moved to Canada, but I didn't know you were back. Just visiting or back to stay?"

George opted for evasive tactics as well and pointed at his left eyebrow, where a scar scythed through it, a crescent that curved from the middle of the brow down toward his eye, stopping dangerously close to the eyeball. "Easier for you to tell us apart now, yeah? Though you always could, couldn't you?"

"I noticed that," she told George softly. She reached over and gently brushed her thumb over the scar. "That wasn't there when the war ended so I assume it was obtained afterward."

"No, it's newer than the war. You know we spent a bit of time helping with clean up," George smiled at her, surprised by the cool brush of fingers. He didn't bother to mention just how much death and pain had been involved in that "clean up".

"Clean up. Right," she echoed quietly. She knew what 'clean up' had basically consisted of and had a good idea what the twins had spent that time doing. She shuddered slightly as she recalled those darkest days during the war, when she'd hardly slept at night and it had been a struggle to maintain the confident optimism and strength that Harry and Ron had needed from her. She didn't ask for the details. Neither Fred nor George were likely to share anything overly personal with her despite the friendship they'd developed during the last months of the war. If they wanted her to know, they'd tell her. If not, it wouldn't matter if she asked a dozen times, they'd never say a word. Besides, why would they share with others when they'd always had each other?

"Yeah, that's always been really annoying, Granger. When no one else could tell us apart, not even Lee or Mum or Ollie." Fred looked thoughtful as he sat down on a table next to Hermione.

"It was never difficult to tell you apart," she said as she dropped her hand and moved to lean against the table too. She looked from one to the other. "You're not identical, after all. Oh, you may be physically, or were before that scar, but I always knew the difference somehow. Still do, actually, scar or no scar."

"Though of course," Fred said, leaning forward and passing his hand over George's face, murmuring a word softly. The scar disappeared. "It can be hidden with a small glamour should we have need of being physically identical at any time."

"Or," George added, mirroring the motion over Fred's face and whispering a word of his own, "we can do it this way." Now Fred seemed to sport a scar through his own eyebrow. With a grin, they dissolved the faa33;ade, and it looked as though the scar leapt from Fred's face to George's.

Hermione smiled as they displayed their charms skills. "It's nice to see you paid attention in at least one of your classes," she observed dryly. "You two were always excellent at charms, though. You know, I rather envied your natural ability in that class when I was younger."

Had the twins been the blushy type, they'd probably have blushed at that. As it was, they hid their identical shock that she'd been envious of their scholastic skills behind amused expressions instead. George changed the subject, deciding that a certain amount of information was all right to impart to her. He didn't want her knowing they were back for good yet. It would be easier to sneak their products in if none of the teachers were watching the students vigilantly for pranks and gags. "We were just down visiting Oliver," he said.

"Yeah," said Fred, cottoning on. "Haven't seen him ages."

George's words actually made her smile fade slightly. She had missed them over the past far too many years and it was enjoyable to banter with them once again. To know it was just a one time visit was rather disappointing. She nodded. "Of course. You were visiting Oliver. I'd forgotten you lot were friends while he was at Hogwarts. Did you enjoy your visit?"

"Yeah, it was good to see Ollie. We'd heard he was slaving away here," Fred laughed. "We've been... out of touch. Didn't know who worked here and who didn't."

"Yes, Oliver has been here for a few years. He's taken over as Gryffindor Head of House, if you can imagine that. It surprises me that he doesn't force them to wake at dawn for two hours of flying every day, but I suppose he saves that for his Quidditch players," she said with a laugh. "There are still some familiar faces from our schooldays here, but a lot of the staff is new. We lost several people during the war and a few retired after surviving. I'm not sure who you might know." She grew thoughtful and then smiled. "Oh, Neville is teaching here now. He's been the Herbology professor for the past few years. Kingsley has broken the Dark Arts curse, as well. He's back again this year."

George grinned. "Oliver caught us up on all the gossip."

"Who's wearing what, who's shagging whom."

She snorted. "Oliver a gossip? Surely you jest," she said sarcastically. "It's fortunate for him that no one would ever guess he gossips more than any third year girls. And as to clothing, I imagine that was a brief conversation," she declared with a laugh. "Everyone is wearing school robes except on weekends when some of them get daring and wear casual clothing."

The twins exchanged a grin. They hadn't actually asked him about the latest fashions. "Please, everyone knows that Oliver's the biggest gossip around," Fred said with a snicker.

"Used to hide it well enough behind ardent and at times pathological Quidditch fanaticism, but he always was."

"Used to drive Percy mad, you know."

"Made him even more secretive than having us as brothers had already done."

George said, "He told us all the news. We didn't even know you were here 'til he mentioned it."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm still undetermined whether or not I'm glad he mentioned I was working here," she teased as she smiled at them. "Seriously, I'm glad you've stopped by to say hello. It's been far too long."

Fred leaned to the side and nudged Hermione in the ribs with his elbow. "Now, now, play nicely. Of course you're beyond thrilled to see us. Who wouldn't be?"

"Filch, perhaps," George suggested.

"Mrs Norris," Fred agreed.

"Is that manky little psychokitty still about the place? Possessed thing."

"Stop fishing for compliments, Fred," Hermione said as she nudged him back with her elbow. "And she is not a psychokitty," she defended automatically. "She's just a bit misunderstood. Since Crookshanks died a few years ago, she's taken to coming in here when I work late to keep me company. She's actually quite sweet beneath that gruff and hissing exterior. She always knows when I'm feeling lonely, it seems, and curls up by my feet."

"Just making sure you meant it," Fred said with a wink.

"She is too a psychokitty," George sniffed. "Took a piece out of my calf in third year. I was just a wee young thing, innocent as the purest of... lambs. Or..."

"Doves," Fred supplied helpfully.

"Doves, thank you," George said with a nod. "And for no reason she swiped her evil little kitty claws through my robes and sunk them into my flesh."

"Did the same to me in fourth year, only she jumped off a statue and attacked my shoulder," Fred added.

"Oh, I'm sure she had no reason at all," Hermione drawled. "She just attacks random innocent students for fun. I can't believe I was ever fooled by her deceptively sweet behavior around me when she's really a sneaky evil kitty."

"At any rate, after Ollie mentioned you, we simply couldn't resist popping by to see our dear comrade-in-arms. Even if it meant avoiding the psychokitty in the hallways." Fred flicked his wand and plucked a single yellow rose out of the air. George laughed and wound his wand in a complicated little way until a black satin ribbon appeared and tied itself elaborately around the stem of the rose.

"And it was lovely to see you, Miss Granger," George said.

"Or should we say Madam Granger now?" Fred said, batting his eyelashes sweetly at her.

"Yes, Madam Granger is my formal title." She took the rose from them and gave it a skeptical look before she determined it was safe. "Thank you," she said with a real smile as she touched the rose petals. "It's lovely. I can't recall the last time I've been given a flower."

The twins exchanged a glance at her comment about the flower, making mental notes of it. Information was always a good thing to have stored away. One never knew when it might be advantageous.

"If I'd been aware that you were on holiday and planned to visit Oliver, I'd have even bought you both a drink down in Hogsmeade. As it is now, I've still got to sort this box of books and then organize the first years' supplies. Since Diagon Alley...well, we get the basic supplies for all students here now. There is a shop or two down in Hogsmeade with some items that are more class specific, but the majority of supplies they'll need are sent to me here," she explained as she stretched and rubbed the back of her neck. "I've been organizing and sorting everything for several days now, but the end is finally in sight."

Fred fished into the open box closest to him, immediately curious. "What's in here?"

"That's a box of Arithmancy texts that were put in the wrong place," she said with a wry smile. "I thought I had all the supplies for years two through seven sorted and then I found this box. Now I have to check the list and put them in the right students' supply area, which means I'll be working most of the evening."

She was reluctant to tell them she had work to do, uncertain if it would be another seven years before she'd see them again. "I suppose I'd better get back to work. Dobby brought me that sandwich for lunch and here it is dinner."

She finally stood up and hugged Fred and then turned and hugged George. "It was nice seeing you both. I'm glad you decided to stop by and say hello after your visit with Oliver." She smiled as she picked up the list and went back to the box. "If you happen to find yourselves back up this way before you go home, let me know and maybe we can have that drink. I'd tell you both to stay out of trouble but I doubt that's possible so I won't bother with the warning."

Fred blinked, surprised that he was suddenly enveloped in a hug, but it was over before it started and he'd barely wrapped his arms back around her before she'd moved on to George. George was equally startled but returned the embrace a little more fully.

"Yeah, it was good to see you too," Fred said.

"I'm sure this isn't the last you'll hear from us," George said with a wink. Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes.

They began to stroll out of the library when Fred leaned over and whispered to George. George whispered back, and they turned again toward Hermione. Swishing their wands and muttering a complex incantation at the same time, twin jets of crackling blue light careened into the box of Arithmancy texts, sending them flying into the air in a whirling chaos of flapping pages. The sudden flash of blue light caused her to close her eyes and step back. Her pulse was racing as she had visions of an orange light hitting her and heat spreading over her chest. The twins didn't notice, though. They both bowed low to the ground, nearly doubling over completely, and then fled the library at a dead run.

It took her a moment to notice the twins fleeing the library with their long hair flying out behind them. The air was full of textbooks and she cursed them both as she ran a hand over her face as she tried to collect herself.

Thankfully, their spell didn't last long. She was relieved to see the books go back towards the box. Before they got there, however, they suddenly moved into various stacks and other boxes while she stood there wondering what the bloody hell they'd done. She walked to the nearest box and found a copy of the Arithmancy text near the top. The name of the student was familiar and she frowned as she reached for the list. There it was, at the top.

She checked several more names on the list and slowly shook her head. She laughed softly as she looked at the door they'd run out of, torn between curiosity of what charm they'd used and admiration for them knowing one she hadn't known. The list was put away and she found herself looking at the closed door with a smile on her lips. She really hoped she'd have the chance to tell them thank you.