"So then, the girl heard footsteps... followed by the sound of something being dragged," said Helena in a low voice. The four girls sat around the fireplace in the sitting room at Chateau de Leon. They had been engrossed in Hogwarts gossip for a few hours (including rumors on why Ginny Weasley, her brothers, and Harry Potter had left Hogwarts two days before the end of term) but decided to start telling scary stories after hearing a noise from the darkness outside.

"The girl went up to the attic and looked around. She found an old chest and opened it, but it was empty. She decided to go back downstairs. Suddenly, she felt something grab her ankle—" Flora suddenly screamed.

"Something grabbed my..." Flora started. She realized that Valentina had started to laugh. "Valentina! Oh, you... you witch!" Valentina laughed even harder.

"Young mistress," Zelfy began as soon as she apparated. "Zelfy would like to remind the young mistress that her bedtime is before midnight." Her three friends snickered.

"Zelfy-y-y," Valentina whined, pouting. "I'm fifteen years old! I don't need a bedtime."

"Master Corleone thinks otherwise," Zelfy replied, disapparating back to the kitchens.

"I have an idea," Valentina whispered excited. "Let's explore the garden. The last to flake out wins the game."

"Flake out?" Heather echoed.

"Yeah! You know... Whoever runs back into the Chateau," Valentina grinned. Shrugging in unanimous agreement, the three girls grabbed their travelling cloaks and followed her, tiptoeing out into the gardens. As glorious as the atmosphere was in the daylight, Valentina found that darkness gave the Chateau's garden an almost sinister appearance. The various lion statues cast gargoyle-like shadows in the moonlight. The branches of the trees seemed like arms about to grab whoever dared to walk past.

"Anyone flaking out yet?" Valentina whispered, her nervous tone almost giving her away.

"What's that?" Helena asked, pointing towards the greenhouse.

"The rose-garden," Valentina replied. "Balthazaaar made it. Want to see?" She led her friends to the greenhouse. The floating baubles that Balthazaar had placed around the greenhouse glowed dimly as they entered, giving their surroundings an ethereal glow.

"It's beautiful!" Flora breathed. In contrast with the haunting appearance outside, the greenhouse seemed to almost welcome the four girls. They looked around, admiring the various species of roses.

"Hey," Valentina giggled. "This one's orange and—" She suddenly stopped, frowning.

"What?" Helena whispered nervously. But soon, they all heard it: the sound of heavy footsteps in tandem with the sound of something being dragged.

"Merlin's beard," Flora gasped. "Just like... from the story."

"It's just a story, Flora," Heather whispered uncertainly, her voice a little more quiet than usual. The four huddled together, waiting as the footsteps drew closer and closer and closer... Valentina stepped in front of them as the garden door flew open.

"AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Everyone started screaming and running, but suddenly stopped when each party realized that the other was doing the same.

"Balthazaar?" Valentina called out.

"Miss? What are you doing? It's nearly midnight!" He pushed the sack of mulch he had been dragging onto a cart. "I didn't want to forget it at home again, so I decided to bring it now; couldn't sleep anyway." He stared at them all with wonder. "Why were you all screaming?" They told him about the story Helena had been telling them and convinced him to sleep over with them since they were all too frightened to sleep alone. Again, Balthazaar found himself saying yes, just as Valentina agreed that he should as well.

It was a little after midnight when the five settled in for the night. They all decided to sleep in sleeping bags on the floor of Valentina's room, which looked a bit plain in the absence of the grand four-poster bed. Balthazaar's eyes wandered from the sleeping portraits on the walls to the dying embers in the fireplace at the end of the room. Life at Glasgow University and at home was going well. He had been having a hard time sleeping as of late, but he knew what was keeping him up. The Daily Prophet sometimes refused to acknowledge some of the strange occurrences, but other wizard papers (more reliable, albeit less well-known), shed light upon what was going on recently. And Balthazaar found himself worrying about his family while he was at school. But I worry about her the most, he thought to himself. As his thoughts wandered, he heard a furtive whisper.

"Balthazaar," Valentina called out quietly He turned to where her sleeping bag was situated. "Are you still awake?"

"Yes, Miss," he whispered back. As quickly and quietly as a shadow, Valentina snuck out of her sleeping bag and into his.

"Miss, what are you—" she put a delicate finger onto his lips as she used her other hand to stifle her own giggle.

"You'll wake them up," she said. "I would've woken up Helena if I dragged my sleeping bag here." He could hear his heart beating like mad in his chest. The sleeping bag was quite roomy enough for two, but he could still feel the heat of her body as if it were pressed against his.

"I nearly did my nut in back there... in the greenhouse," he said suddenly, before she could say anything.

"You really scared us! For a second, I thought it was..." Her voice trailed off and she shifted position.

"That bloke in the woods?" He asked. She nodded. "You never did tell me who he is..." He paused. "I'm sorry, Miss. You don't have to." But she did. In the darkness and silence of the night, she told him everything. He comforted her. She said she was over it, but he knew otherwise.

"Balthazaar?" She asked after a while.

"Yes, Miss?"

"Are you muggle-born?" The question caught him off-guard. During the time they knew each other, she had never asked a question about him. "I'm sorry. Are you mad that I asked?"

"Oh no, Miss," he replied quickly. She had mistaken his silence for anger. "My parents and my sisters... er... my whole family, actually..." He let out a soft, embarrassed chuckle. "They're all squibs." He was kind of glad it was nighttime; he didn't want to see her expression too well.

"But you're not," she pointed out in wonder.

"I might as well be," he replied. "It's not like I went to Hogwarts or anything..."

"I feel bad now," she said bluntly.

"What? Why?"

"I feel like I've taken everything for granted, you know? I can go to any school I want and... I don't know... Sometimes, I don't take it as seriously as I should. Probably because it doesn't matter, really. The Corleone empire will be mine no matter what. You deserve to go to Hogwarts... You help me with my homework and you learn everything so quickly... You might as well go to Hogwarts for me."

"Don't say that, Miss," he laughed. She was so over-dramatic sometimes. "Just know that you and your friends are really lucky. And I like helping you with your homework." They talked for what seemed like hours.

"Hey, Balthazaar?" Her voice was getting softer; she was getting sleepy.

"Yes, Miss?"

"I couldn't tell them that… my first kiss was with Master Snape."

"I know, Miss." A mix of emotions rose within him. He didn't know if it were sadness for himself, happiness for her, or…was that jealousy he was feeling?

"So I told them..." She yawned. "That I had my first kiss with you..." He felt his face burn—almost as if they had actually kissed.

"Me?" Balthazaar echoed, leaning in closer to hear her. "Why?"

"Because... Mmm..." Her sleepy eyes closed and he suddenly realized his proximity to her. His heart thudded wildly in his chest. Save the first time they met, Balthazaar had never been this close to Valentina before. In the dim moonlight, he was able to make out her features: thick, long eyelashes… high cheekbones… perfect lips…

Those lips, Balthazaar thought as he felt the familiar pang of jealousy. Those lips I'll never be able to kiss… To his horror, Valentina's eyes fluttered open. Frozen, he didn't know what he was expecting from her. Sheer and complete outrage, maybe. Pity was another possibility. Instead, she gazed at him with curiosity. He watched her eyes scanning his face like a judge evaluating a guilty man. Perhaps it was the fact that they were so close or that Balthazaar's heart had given up and felt it mattered neither one way nor the other. Impulsively, his hand reached for her hair. He let his fingers gently tangle in the black ringlets. So rough and calloused were his hands that it seemed almost a sin to be touching something so soft and beautiful.

"Balthazaar…" Valentina whispered. He moved in ever so carefully so that there was but a short breath between them. Still, she did nothing. To him, their lips were still a million miles away but he would close-in within a second if she would permit him.

"Just once…" Balthazaar felt himself saying, surprising himself. It was a pitiful plea. Pathetic. He hated himself the moment the words left his lips.

"Balthazaar… I can't," she finally said. Her tone was apologetic, but not regretful. Balthazaar understood. A kiss from Valentina Corleone was like the Hogwarts letter he was forced to turn his back on so many years ago. Moving away from her lips, he buried his face in her hair. She smelled of strawberries.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. To his surprise, he felt her slender arms wrap around his waist and her warm lips briefly graze his cheek.

"No, I am." She replied. "You're perfect, Balthazaar. But not perfect for me." Balthazaar didn't know how long they lay like that, though he wished he could do so forever in her arms. He knew he had no chance with her; he knew that he never had a chance. But if she ever needed him, he would always be there for her. Like the few before and the many people who have yet to follow, Balthazaar realized that he had fallen hopelessly in love with Valentina Corleone.

Valentina sat up as soon as her eyes shot open. She looked over at the empty spot beside her and felt a blush rise on her cheeks. What had happened between her and Balthazaar? She thought it was all a dream but she wasn't in her own sleeping bag, which was folded up on her nightstand. Her friends were all sleeping still, so she lay back down. His side was still warm, as if he had gotten up merely seconds before. She took in his scent. It was an earthy smell, like sandalwood or pine—but she couldn't quite pinpoint it. Valentina recalled his closeness and the feeling of his breath against her lips. Much to her chagrin, she guiltily recalled nestling close to him as the night had wore on. She could still feel his powerfully-built arms around her. She didn't know how to feel around him now. Nervous? Angry?

Why did it matter? She thought to herself. Many people admire me, of course. But deep inside, she knew that Balthazaar didn't just admire her… she had seen that look before. The look her father gave her mother. The look her Master gave— The sound of shoveling from the gardens awakened Valentina's sleepy friends.

"Balthazaar is up and about already?" Flora yawned, sitting up. "You're working him like a common house-elf!" Valentina merely gave Flora a half-smile as she folded up her sleeping bag and quickly walked out of the room, leaving her friends to fawn admiringly at Balthazaar from the window.

I apologize for its length... and the delay.