It had started in Potions class. Or perhaps in the Infirmary, when Eirene had shown Frank her notes for Healer Mordent and had pointed to a winding snake symbol she'd made for the 'S' of his last name.

Or perhaps it had started in Potions class. Eirene liked to be particular about these things. During Potions class, she'd drawn a scarab beetle and an herb in the margins of her notes and shown them to Frank, who had understood that she was asking if his family's apothecary carried the ingredient. He'd added his own symbol - a circle, of sorts, if she remembered correctly. And when one of the more annoying Gryffindors had peeked at her notes and wondered aloud what the symbols in the margins meant, Eirene had smiled smugly and kept silent. She'd never created a secret language with anyone before. Not even Noriko, though she hadn't asked her yet.

It had started in Potions (perhaps), and continued in Runes and Arithmancy and even in Care of Magical Creatures, with her and Frank drawing little symbols and determining their meaning during lunches and breaks. The debate was half the fun. The 'actually!', the references to hieroglyphics and word games and Battle-of-Hogwarts secret defense messages.

It had led them here this weekend, to the library, Eirene's favorite refuge, to expand upon the idea that had started in Potions. Or perhaps in the Infirmary. Wherever it had begun, it showed no sign of stopping now.

"Frank, here's that book about Bridget Wenlock that you were looking for."

Eirene handed him the book and continued down the row, running her finger along the edge of the shelf and pleased to note the lack of dust. They'd set the books they'd gathered on one of the circular tables between the rows of stacks. After the Quidditch match yesterday, several students had invaded the library this afternoon with their loudness and their group projects, but at least she and Frank could talk freely about their idea.

What else would they talk about? Feelings, or their friendship status, or that Valentine's Day dance where they'd tried the spiked punch and laughed for hours?

They had no words in their secret language for romance.

Eirene paused at the sight of a newly shelved book. The library had been reorganized during her unfortunate quarantine in the Infirmary. She'd noticed the new books that had found a home on the shelves, especially in the History section, where she and Frank were now. The books smelled delightfully old and musty, with crinkly pages and leather covers with gilded lettering.

Unable to resist, Eirene pulled out the book. The title read:

Wizards of the Norman Conquest[1]

1.	One of the families mentioned are the Malfoys

The dark leather cover was bleached at one corner. When she opened it up, she caught a whiff of evergreen, as if it had been left under a tall hedge outside.

Eirene flipped through the pages, pausing when she found a note written in cursive: 'vincet', the latin word for conquer, was scrawled in black ink on a page that also had a green fingertip stain.

On another page, the heading for Chapter Seven was nestled between two upright dragons, drawn in the same black ink.

"Frank!" She looked up. "I found another new book!"

She smiled, "You've noticed, haven't you? There are so many more books here than there used to be last term. The librarian must have been busy."

While Eirene moved along one side of the aisle, Frank was at her flank perusing the other side. The stacks were so close together they could keep their voices low and hand books back and forth or set them in their growing pile.

The Wenlock book Seven Secrets of the Number Seven was supposed to have some a theory about a theoretical Arithmancy branch made up entirely of the number seven - perfect nutrition of teenage Ravenclaw nerdery. He flipped through it until Eirene found another new book. He set down the Wenlock and hurried over to look over her shoulder.

"Why does it look like someone left it out in a field?" he wondered. "They must be donated or something."

Then he lit up. "Or stolen." He gasped at his own sudden idea. "Have you ever seen the librarian? Hmm? I mean, it's genius, actually. Who would think to look for stolen books in a library?"

This was typical Frank/Eirene. Shoulder to shoulder, hyper focused in between schoolwork with diversions that could easily be mistaken for more schoolwork. All question in Frank's mind of the Status of Their Relationship had been more or less resolved. He didn't want to kiss her. That was that. What else was there to decipher?

"Stolen!"

Eirene shook her head fiercely. "No. No, that's against the rules."

They were books. Beloved books. Librarians loved books almost as much as Ravenclaws did, and the entire library system depended on trust and the sharing of knowledge. Eirene, for example, would never steal a book unless her life depended on it. She'd rather break a window and climb into a deserted house! Frank knew this. He'd climbed in with her.

"No, the librarian is a bit intimidating and unconventional, but still a librarian, Frank."

Eirene studied the pages as Frank flipped through the book she'd offered him, attempting to read upside down. Mmhmm, that was the chapter on the flight of the dirigibles. Mmhmm, that was the paragraph about the founding of Saint Marbles.

"I want to know who donated these, if they were donated. Do you think the original owner died tragically? I think that's more likely. Some widow or widower was left to languish in a crumbling estate, all alone with their fantastic library, but when they were young they liked to read books in their own private garden. Or Quidditch field, I suppose."

Her smile faded, but she looked no less happy, her expression focused and her whispered words fast and certain. As of late, she enjoyed using words such as 'tragic!' and 'travesty', and considered adding those to their new language.

"We could simply ask, but that's not as fun. I know I'm getting off topic," she waved her hand in the air. Secret languages! They'd come here to develop theirs.

Frank rolled his eyes. Typical Eirene! Couldn't imagine that anyone would dare break a rule. He did have to agree that suppose stealing a book was just asking for a curse; he nodded.  "Bequeathment does seem like the most likely scenario. Probably a former student... But you're right - we should stay focused. The code," he said slyly.

He returned to their little table and began stacking books so there was a place to open their notebook.

"I think we should actually consider changing it to a syllabary instead of a new alphabet. That way it'll be harder to crack. And maybe we can have one symbol for common words, like 'and'  or 'the'. Oh! And special symbols for our names."

Frank looked up at Eirene to gauge her reaction. "I could be a scarab beetle and for you ... a moon? The beetle is my family symbol and Eirene was the goddess of the moon and, like, peacefulness."

His voice was touched with admiration.

Eirene sat next to Frank at the table, letting him ramble for a moment as she took notes. Perhaps they could create an alphabetic syllabary and combine the best from both scripts.

"We'd have to learn hundreds of signs," she said happily, just as Frank's nice, warm tone caught up to her.

She glanced up, a surprised smile flickering on her face.

"Yes, she is! She is a goddess. One of the Horae - thank you for remembering."

Eirene, the goddess of peace! Her parents had always had lofty ambitions for her. Eirene rarely felt particularly peaceful, but she liked to think that she'd bring about order in difficult times.

She had not known that her own name was connected to the moon, but she didn't tell Frank that.

"Of course I know that your family symbol is a beetle, but do you want it to be yours? I do think it would suit you," she nodded, studying his face for a moment.

He was following in his family's footsteps, after all. She understood what it felt like to know exactly who she wanted to be.

Before she could think too much about his especially nice tone, Eirene drew a few ideas next to their names. She pointed to each symbol, starting with Frank:

"A beetle, the number seven, a snakelike 's', a bee," she made a little face, tempted to cross it out, but she'd been thinking that Frank had conquered his fears. "And kenaz, the rune for knowledge."

Eirene moved the parchment closer to him so he could add any other ideas.

"For me, a moon? Could be a crescent. Or a wing, like Eirene, or a sceptre, like Eirene has, or a cornucopia of flowers, of course, for the season of spring."

Her name was also connected to springtime. As all her friends should know.

Anyone else might have gotten a knot in their stomach thinking about all the signs that were needed for their idea, but for Eirene and Frank, they had all the time in the world and nothing seemed more fun at the moment. Eirene came up with more symbol options and Frank sat forward in his chair, took out his own quill. Once Eirene cleared out, he made his own additions.

"No bees." He crossed out the bees. All those embarrassing times were the last thing he wanted to remind himself of. "I'm going to take over the apothecary when I'm older, so my primary will be the beetle, but we can always use these other ones to throw people off the scent."

Who would care to read two random Ravenclaws' secret code, who could say. Nevertheless, security was a concern.

He then began writing down some of his ideas for other symbols. "Maybe a swirl or snail shell for 'ing' because that's, you know, ongoing. And a backwards arrow for 'ed' because that's often used for things that have happened in the past. Oh, and sideways squiggle for 'er' or 'or' because they mostly sound the same. And I was thinking of two circles put together for 'and', like a pair of something."

He went on, with a little line and swoop for 'the', and that for plurals they could underline the word which seemed very clever to him. Anything like 'is', 'are', or 'am' could be a sideways triangle, kind of like an arrow.

"And here, like, for 'friend', that's like 'fre' and 'end' put together. 'Fr' like freezing? So a snowflake. And a big dot, like a full stop for 'end'. So ..."

That had given him enough to draw out a whole sentence. A scarab, the two circles, a pair of wings. Then the triangle, then the glyph for friends-plural. He sat back so Eirene could decode it. He was quite pleased with himself. It looked absolutely unintelligible and cool. A proper magical code.



 

As Frank wrote in his neat and precise handwriting that she secretly admired and thought looked even nicer than hers, Eirene double-underlined the wings near her name. She looked from the wings to the beetle.

They were perfect together. A winged beetle.

Eirene tapped her quill against her ink well and listened, as listening was just as important as talking, her teachers always said. She'd listen to Frank ramble, and he would listen to her ramble, and they'd spend many a happy weekend just rambling on.

Like now! Surely he agreed with where her thoughts were headed. When he was done, Eirene slid the scroll of parchment closer to her and read aloud in an excited whisper.

"Frank and Eirene! Are-"

Eirene knew what he'd just said a minute ago about 'fre' and 'end'. Still, she gamely checked the symbols in case he'd changed them.

He hadn't.

Her stomach sank, and she sat back in her seat.

"Oh."

Friends.

It was a sweet sentiment, wasn't it? Of course they were friends. They'd been friends since the train ride in September, when she'd persuaded Frank to change his electives. That was true friendship.

Her brow furrowed. They were friends, yes, but there was a word that started with 'f' and continued with 'or/er' that they should include.

Eirene drew the symbol below the others:

"Frank and Eirene forever."

As something played out on Eirene's face, Frank looked back and forth between her and the page trying to figure out if it was concern, disapproval, or confusion. It was very unlikely to be the last of these, leaving the first two.

'Oh.'

'Oh?'

What, oh?

Frank put his elbow on the table and set the side of his head in his hand to look at Eirene obliquely as she put pen to paper again. Then it was Frank's turn to furrow then unfurrow his brows. The combined symbols, the linked double line below the new cartouche, forever - something was happening.

Frank opened his mouth to speak a couple of times and tried on two or three facial expressions.

"Do you ...," he tried with a partial wince.

"Are we ...," an attempt with eyebrows up and open.

"You know, I ..." At this point he was just stumped.

He then whispered very quietly, head in his hand, perplexed. "Do you want to kiss me?"

Eirene's grip slipped on her quill, and she quickly rested it in the ink well before it could mar the parchment. Frank's head was tilted to the side, almost like people did when they wanted to kiss, and he'd just said kiss, and his voice was so soft. And his eyelashes were so long. She kept wishing she had long eyelashes like him.

She blinked down at the symbol that had caused Frank to utter the word 'kiss'. The winged beetle, underlined to mean forever. Of course they were forever! Forever... friends?

A little betrayal-giggle escaped her as she glanced around the quiet aisle where they sat at the table. The voices and footsteps from other aisles felt very far away.

"Frank," she emphasized his name, unable to help the little smile on her face and the way she mimicked his posture, her elbow on the table, her head in her hand. If not for his wincing, it was nice to be asked. Right? A nice, warm little glow lit her up just from being asked. She must have misunderstood his message about friendship.

"We're in the library!" She whispered playfully back to him, letting her gaze linger on his face just to see what it would feel like. She tilted her head the same way, which was not ideal for kissing (was it?), but none of that mattered because they were in the library. A parchment full of mixed signals rested between them.

"You can't ask me that in the library."

Something was happening. Frank struggled to find an internal dialog to describe the phenomenon. Eirene had gone slightly ... girly on him. It wasn't that Eirene wasn't a girl. Of course she was. She wore nice clothes and her hair had those straight lines and she wrote like a girl but, did she just giggle? Frank tried to think of any previous instances of Eirene Antonopoulos giggling like this. She certainly hadn't giggled when he'd tried to hold her hand in the past. He'd thought he'd seen her giggle once around Professor Onuris.

And she was smiling. Frank's face must have been a mess of hesitating expression-mirroring and perplexity. She and Eirene smiled all the time but it was more like they were both smiling about the same thing (like interesting fungus names, inventing their own constellations, puns) rather than smiling at each other. But this time, she was looking right at him. Smiling. Head tilted.

Frank swallowed nervous laughter just a bit too late. He maintained the awkward posture aware now that he was blushing.

"Actually, loads of people kiss in the library," he countered in that same whisper, unable to stop himself from making a factual correction. And he was right. It was one of the most popular make-out spots along with the boat house.[1]

1.	(Inexplicably. There were sometimes bees in the boat house.)

"Actually-" she stopped and swallowed.

Had Frank just let out a giggle, too? Surely that hadn't been inspired by her. Eirene did not giggle. She only giggled sometimes.

More importantly - actually! - he was debating with her, and he hadn't yet resorted to his singsong voice that meant he was losing.

So was he winning?

Did it matter? He was debating with her about something important, something they'd never talked about before, something they definitely hadn't covered in class, and something that hung between them like the buzzing of bees.

A slight wrinkle of confusion appeared in Eirene's forehead and her smile faltered. Frank hadn't moved away. He kept his head tilted. He wasn't moving forward, either. He was studying her, too.

Did that mean....?

Should they break a rule just this once?

Actually twice, if they counted the breaking-and-entering misdemeanor that shall not be mentioned from the start of the year?

It was only March.

But maybe they should.

Heart beating fast - breaking a rule! - the noise of the students from the other aisles disappeared and she leaned forward inch by inch, her eyes on his eyes and gosh those eyelashes, and at the last moment she tilted her head to the other side like she thought she was supposed to, and paused mere millimeters away from his face, holding her breath because she didn't want to breathe on his face, because surely that was rude, and then finally, kissing him. Less a kiss and more like a peck that lingered. On the mouth.

Eirene leaned in and instinctively Frank closed his eyes, heart suddenly pounding. He froze. Her lips touched his, and stayed. Unsure of what to do, he opted to participate, pursing his lips and leaning in for a second. Then leaned back. He knew he must be beet red and found it hard to swallow.

That was it. His first kiss. It had been on the fourth of March in the library with Eirene Antonopoulos. He sat up and let out a big breath. He was smiling.

"Um. Thanks."

What did one say? He felt giddy a bit, but he was searching for that spark. Was this it? He didn't know how he was meant to feel. All he had to go one was what people said, that there were fireworks.

"Sorry." Then he shook his head smiling nervously. "I mean, not sorry. I don't know why I said that."

She had kissed him. Frank had asked Eirene if he should kiss her because that's what he thought she wanted, but then seemed to not want to, but then she kissed him.

Their conversation in the Doomed Lovers' Nook raced through his head when he'd offered to be her boyfriend. That had gone poorly and they'd never been back to the topic other than to hold hands again. All mixed in was Figaro's unusually insightful advice.

Don't try to guess if she likes you. Just ask.

Frank couldn't think of anything more terrifying right now. What if she said no? But what if she said yes? Just ask. Just ask.

"Do you ... do you like me?"

Her heart still racing, she pulled away when he did, searching his face.

Frank was blushing enough for the two of them. Eirene didn't blush, but she did smile back at him, another giggle threatening to break through.

"You're welcome."

Well that sounded odd!

They'd just kissed. Actually kissed! Their first kiss! It had been nice and sweet and lovely, just like Frank was. She felt that same warm glow that she felt whenever she saw him in the halls and she would want to ask him a question about revision, or whenever he'd slide into the seat next to her in the common room and she would offer him a bookmark for the book he was carrying, or whenever they'd walk past the hut on the grounds and she would reach for his hand like they might be in danger of falling into the sea if they didn't.

She touched her hand to her mouth, watching him wrestle with a question. Her gaze darted towards the end of the aisle, but if anyone had seen them kiss, they were long gone.

Did she like him?

Oh. A fair question. That was a very fair question, Frank. She hesitated, glancing at the parchment on the table between them.

As a Ravenclaw and a friend, she had to give him an absolutely, one hundred percent correct answer. She'd told him she didn't know back in the dreaded lover's nook in what felt like forever ago but was only a month ago. That was before they'd held hands, or rather, before she'd allowed it. She wasn't much of a hugger and she wasn't much of a hand-holder, but maybe she was a kisser? He was one of her closest friends and he was a boy. It only made sense.

Did she like him, yes or no?

With a quick movement, Eirene slid the parchment closer to her and dipped her quill in ink.

She added another symbol.

Eirene showed him the parchment and sat straight in her seat, her expression as serious as if she were answering a question in class.

As soon as Frank asked the question, the question that could change everything, the question that had been haunting he and Eirene's every interaction for weeks, he realized he felt relieved. Now he would finally know. Whatever Eirene answered, he'd know.

And then, he knew. It took a moment, ages actually, but Eirene provided her truth in the form of their secret code. A shapely sort of check mark. A bold affirmative. Eirene liked him. That was good. Of course it was good. Everyone wanted to be liked. And for the moment, that's all he felt, his brain overjoyed with being chosen.

"Cool," he said taking a deep breath.

"I like you, too." He was now grinning without reservation and absently began straightening the books on the table with one hand.

He was quiet for a minute and then he said thoughtfully still with a smile.

"So, let's just see where this goes." A very mature treatment of the situation. "We'll do it our way. We don't have to be like everyone else. We should be true to ourselves. Honest."

And at the moment, he felt very honest.

Eirene was smiling. Frank was smiling. They were smiling at each other.

They liked each other! Like-like. Romantically liked. They'd go to dances as more-than-friends-liked. Had-just-kissed-liked. Eirene grinned and tapped her quill against the ink well, ready to jump up and dance right here in the library aisle. She could! If she wanted to. Someone liked her!

Well actually, she liked someone and he liked her back.

This was completely unexpected for today. A rare, happy surprise not in her planner or her schedule.

"Of course," Eirene nodded, businesslike again. She and Frank were the most honest Ravenclaws she knew. They were friends and scholars first, and they would spend lots of time in the library, and they'd tell each other truths before the Hogwarts Howler could tell it for them.

Still, Eirene couldn't help but think ahead.

"Hogsmeade weekend is coming up," Eirene said in what she thought was her mature voice, her foot swinging slightly under her chair.

"We missed the one in February but we could go to the next one."

Together? Together.

"I'll even go to the SAWS protest, if you like. We could be a very socially-conscious," she paused. "Couple?"

Eirene's gaze dropped to the parchment in front of them, as if searching for a sign. Couple. A word that felt even weightier than 'yes'.