Written in true British-fashion. Yes, the singular quotation mark is purposely used. WARNING: Spoilers for Scorpia Rising and Order of the Phoenix. I swear, there are no good AR/HP fanfics at ALL.

toujours fidèle
"I think, therefore I am."

Alex never thought that something like this would have happened.

He had gone to France for about half a month; not even that long, compared to some of his other missions that took longer time to finish and even longer to recuperate. This time, he had only gotten grazed by a bullet in the arm—it honestly wasn't that bad—and Ben had walked away with no injuries at all. It was a simple hit-and-run operation, get in, get the information, get out. Everything went as planned.

God damn it he should have known that something was bound to go wrong. His whole being attracted trouble like a magnet. But that was the point; it attracted trouble to him. So he honestly wanted a clear cut explanation for why the hell his best friend was laying on a hospital bed, comatose, a bandage across his head and a second-degree burnt arm.

Alex felt something clench painfully inside of him; Tom was one of the few people that truly understood him, the most loyal of anyone he'd ever met. He knew the dark-haired boy ever since he was a kid, back in the sandbox days, when Alex would shove sand in Tom's bucket and Tom, in return, would steal Alex's lollipop during lunchtime. He was insane, Alex knew, but that was all just a cover up for what Tom really was on the inside; a great, caring guy. Granted, he wouldn't have gotten along with Alex in the first place if they weren't a semblance alike; Alex found that Tom was a great strategist in normal situations, a man of manipulation. Usually used for pranks. But Alex knew there was a reason why Tom stuck around longer than the rest. He was a brother in all but blood.

Being one of the few people that mattered to him—Jack's dead, Sabina's in San Francisco—he knew that he would get to the bottom of this. Flash explosion my arse, he muttered furiously in his head, remembering what Ben had told him softly this morning while trying to break the news as gently as he could. Fuck this, if Tom got hurt because of me...it could very be well one of his own enemies, but the bit of evidence that he was told told him that it wasn't Snakehead or even SCORPIA. Even still...

'Alex,' a soothing voice behind him reached his ears, a tentative hand on his shoulder. Alex knew who it was before turning around. 'Standing here won't do anything. We have to catch that bastard that did it.' A pause. 'Remember...there were many casualties.' Ben's voice took on one of pain; he was always soft to kids, one of the reasons why he didn't monopolize Alex three years ago during his time at Brecon Beacons. To think of all of those that died at Brookland Comprehensive...just schoolchildren, who the hell would do such a thing?

'I know,' he replied stoically. 'This is one mission that I'll be glad to take on from MI6, trust me.' And it would be. As soon as he asked for it. Alex didn't do that often, but after glancing at Ben's shocked—but understanding—face, he nodded and they left the room, Alex giving once last glance at his best friend.

'I'll get to the bottom of this, Tom,' he promised softly. 'I'll give no mercy to the ones who did this to you.' To all of them. Alex couldn't even think of what had happened to one of his other friends, James Hale, who had died in the heart of all. He had to be identified by his dental records; Alex would never forget the grueling sight, one of the worst he had ever seen, heightened with the fact that Mrs. Hale was right there beside him, sobbing her broken heart out.

It was a quiet drive to The Royal and General Bank, Ben being the one behind the wheel. Both men knew not to say anything; Alex was a mess, Ben was the only one who seemed to have kept his anger at bay. There were kids of MI6 agents at Brookland Comprehensive, not just Alex. They were just kids...kids who were murdered for no reason whatsoever.

There was no need for the secretary to clock them in or call them up; the brunette woman took one look at Alex, saw his face and recognized him, and pointed to the direction of a bare elevator, saying, 'She's been waiting for you.' tonelessly.

Ben and Alex stood side by side, and awfully quiet when they reached the Head of Special Operations office, an official looking gold plaque reading TULIP JONES across the front. Alex felt a surge of small affection run through him; no doubt Mrs. Jones was as shaken up about this as he was. He had learned that she was very partial to children, having two of her own killed, and hated every moment of what she did to Alex. She never asked for forgiveness, but Alex did it anyways.

The dark-haired woman was waiting in the conference room, not her own office as her secretary had told them. Alex looked around, seeing many members of COBRA, and feeling a bit overwhelmed; this was something bigger than what he originally thought. He traded apprehensive glances with Ben, who's mouth twitched downward with every second passing. Eventually, Mrs. Jones noticed their presence.

'Agent Rider, Agent Daniels,' she regarded coolly, 'Thank you for joining us today. You're presence is valuable to today's meeting.' She didn't say it in a mocking way, even though they were the only ones late. Alex nodded and sat down next to Crawley, whom he suspected would be overseeing his missions—as usual. The man had taken up something as Deputy Director, seeing as how Alex had refused the position, but they all knew that next to Mrs. Jones, Agent Rider was the most powerful one of MI6. There wasn't one of Alex's orders that weren't taken.

'And, granted, what is this meeting about?' Ben asked regally, sitting down next to Alex on his other side. Silently, he smirked at the other man's tone of voice. He was impatient, waiting for the action to start. The blonde couldn't blame him; that was personal, like it was with SCORPIA. There was just too much bad blood right now.

Mrs. Jones pursed her lips and stood beside a large plasma screen installed into the wall, clicking the remote held in her slender hands. 'The recent terrorist attack on Brookland Comprehensive school.' she answered promptly. Alex clenched and unclenched his fists. A picture of the burnt remains of the school popped up on the screen. 'This isn't the only attack by this particular group; multiple family suicides, records of explosions where there are flashes of light—most likely flash grenades—before mass murder, broken bridges, collapsing roads, spontaneously combusting homes, multiple brutal homicides,' the TV continued to flicker between grotesque pictures and Alex felt his rage burn hotter with every photo, every accusation that brought fuel to the fire. 'All are connected to this.'

Mrs. Jones stopped of a simple, computer-produced picture of a skull with a snake slithering out of it's mouth. Alex felt his jaw tense; this is like SCORPIA all over again. Except this time...he didn't allow himself to finish. 'We do not know the name of this organization,' the Head of SO said, sounding more than annoyed, 'But we do know that it's the reason why all of these terrorist attacks are happening, even if we do not know how. This symbol has been found at every single crime scene that I have shown you.' Mrs. Jones' voice took a deadly tone. 'A week ago, we have found this man dead at one of the scenes,' a man with cropped blonde hair and dead eyes showed on the screen, his right arm clearly visible, a skull and snake tattooed on his wrist. 'And we have reached the conclusion that at most all the members will have this tattoo. It is not clear whether it'll be on the right hand, so keep an eye out for both.'

A man sitting up higher at the table with pale, translucent eyes and a thin mouth frowned an said, 'What's the name of this victim? Surely, some of his records must have brought up something?'

Mrs. Jones pursed her lips. 'His name is Antonin Dolohov, thirty-four, of Russian descent. He grew up in a prestigious family; his mother is dead and his father went missing when he was five. Homeschooled. Never showed signs of terrorist behavior or anything of the sort.' Alex was soaking up information like a sponge, his mind working miles a minute. Mrs. Jones took a deep breath. 'This is a big mission, even for MI6,' she started out softly, looking directly at Alex. 'Agent Rider is going to be leading it. His partner, Agent Daniels is second in command.' Her tone suggested that there was nothing to be refused; no one would, anyways. Alex had gained quite a reputation in the last few years with his hundred percent success rate. 'Threat level critical; top secret, nothing in this room will ever leave unless given permission by me, Mr. Crawley, or Agent Rider. Security level thirteen.' Buzzing ensued at the news. 'Now—'

Mrs. Jones was interrupted by the sound of the door opening; immediately the guards on either side had gone into action, as did several of the members sitting at the table; Alex shot up with his gun pointed at the door, seeing an African-American man at it's path. He was broad shouldered and tall, completely calm—although there was a bit of nervousness in his eyes—even though he had two guards, Alex, Ben, and two more agents pointing guns at him.

He raised his hands. 'I'm Kingsley Shacklebolt, bodyguard of the Prime Minister,' he started, and moved aside to see the Prime Minister himself standing behind him. He was a man of average height, with small blue eyes and a wide forehead that disappeared into neatly combed, thinning brown hair. He looked like the average Englishman, but his eyes met Alex and the spy lowered his gun, bowing his head respectfully.

'I'm sorry for the disturbance,' he intoned, quirking a smile at the man. 'May I ask for your apologies, sir?'

'No need, Alex.' The Right Honorable David Cameron* smiled, waving the boy down. 'Please, all of you sit. I'm the one intruding here.' Everyone did as they were told, not questioning it for a bit. 'The reason why I've come is because Mr. Shacklebolt here withholds some valuable information about the recent menace on England and greater UK.'

Mrs. Jones nodded and stood to the side, allowing Shacklebolt to become the center of attention. Alex thought he looked vaguely anxious once more, but that disappeared when he started to talk; voice confident and deep. 'From my sources, this terrorist group is mainly terrorizing England simply for the heck of it.' he said shortly, causing a stunned silence. 'They call themselves the Death Eaters—' here, he smiled almost bemusedly. 'Horrible name, I know, but they're nothing to laugh about. Their leader is cruel and merciless, though we do not know his name yet.' Shacklebolt looked toward the Prime Minister, who nodded.

He began again, cautiously. 'There is, however, a secret organization that goes against them; shortened, it's called the OTP, that for which it stands for I cannot tell you, seeing as how I am a member myself.' He cleared his throat and ignored the multiple glares that were sent his way, including Alex and Ben's. 'However, I am allowed to bring the people in charge of the operation to come in and share information. It's case sensitive, need-to-know information, so only the people on top may come.'

Mrs. Jones nodded. 'Of course,' she said shortly, causing Shacklebolt to look at her. 'The ones in charge of operation are me and Agent Rider.' She motioned to Alex, who regarded Shacklebolt stiffly. The man, in return, seemed to twitch and his eyes expressed something as shock and disbelief before they disappeared. Alex had to give him credit; he knew how to keep his composure.

'I'll take Agent Daniels with me,' he said, looking toward Ben for his acceptance. Ben smiled slightly, showing that he was in. Alex turned back to the large man. 'So, when and where?'

Kingsley almost grinned, and Alex got a bad feeling.

.:.

Ben raised his eyebrow at what they were looking in front of them; right between two old apartment complexes labeled '11' and '13'. Shacklebolt was staring at them, gauging their reactions. Alex turned to Kingsley and said, 'Are you sure?'

He nodded. 'Positive,' he replied, stepping forward before hesitating. He turned around and faced them with serious, dark eyes. 'There are some things that you will know that no one has known before. I'm trusting you two with this information. I hope you do not abuse it in any way.' He looked at Alex. 'People will judge you. You'll soon understand; I'm just saying to be careful.' He whirled around and took out something from his pocket, not noticing Ben and Alex shoot each other confused glances.

'We'll know in due time, apparently,' Alex murmured. 'Besides, it's not like a little prejudice—for whatever bloody reason—is going to kill us.' There was a faint, feral grin that crossed his face and the former SAS man shook his head. Both snapped to attention when Kingsley said something—Alex was fairly certain he said 'Grimmauld' and 'Order', but nothing else. He didn't know what that would help, but then something amazing, something he'd surely never forget, happened.

The two adjoined complexes seemed to rumble and split, yet the people inside didn't seem to notice at all; the MI6 operatives watched as the stone literally broke in half, moving apart like they were separate entities. Alex saw them halt when the distance was wide enough for a person to go through one at a time, narrow but unmistakable. Alex was so caught up with the unusual entrance that he completely ignored the Kingsley's slight smirk. Ben tugged on his sleeve, and Alex snapped out of the daze he was in, looking at Ben. The dark-haired man was in as much shock as he was, he could see it in his eyes, but Alex also knew what he was saying; questions later. They followed Kingsley into the makeshift alleyway.

Alex saw the vague shape of a door up ahead, and he called to Kingsley, 'You better be explaining all of this soon!' In response, the man turned around, grimaced for a second, before nodding with a gravely serious look on his face. Ben turned to Alex. 'What do you think that was about?' Alex shrugged.

Kingsley knocked on the door and after a second, someone shouted from the inside, 'Who's there?'

'Kingsley Shacklebolt,' said the dark man confidently. 'Overseer of the Prime Minister and agent of the double Orders.' There was a pause before a series of clicks with what seemed like the elaborate opening of a door. Alex had to raise an eyebrow; even if people did manage to find this place (he had to admit, it was very well hidden) they'd have one hell of a time getting through that door.

The rickety structure opened and they saw a short, red-headed man with curious eyes and a wide, relieved smile. 'Sorry Kingsley,' he said apologetically. 'We have to make sure that no imposters come to our door, what with all the dark stuff coming along now.' The redheaded man peered behind Kingsley, catching a flash of blonde hair that came from Alex. 'Who's this?'

'They're with me,' Kingsley cut in smoothly. 'I'll explain once Dumbledore is here.'

The redheaded man pursed his lips, looking unhappy, but opened the door and motioned inside. 'Well, don't just stand out there, come in—come in! I'm sorry about the house itself, it's rather old and unused, we're lucky just to have it. Ah, I was very rude earlier, wasn't I? My name is Arthur Weasley, pleasure to meet you.' He held out his hand formally, but there were suspicion in his eyes that crept along the both of them.

Alex smiled slightly, liking the man's discomposure, even if he was insulted by the mistrust. 'Alex Rider,' said the blonde, shaking his hand firmly. Ben raised an eyebrow from beside him, being almost half a foot taller and bulkier (when were SAS men not?) he also shook Arthur's hand. 'Ben Daniels.' he confirmed.

Arthur nodded and led them somewhere, most particularly where Kingsley was. It was a long, narrow hall before they reached an open door, where Alex could see a bunch of people gathering around; coming, he noticed Kingsley standing on the other side, tense. There was a dark-haired man sitting down on the table, a slightly crazed look in his eyes. Next to him was a scruffy old man with half his nose missing, multiple scars on his face, and a bright blue eyeball whizzing in it's socket. It fixed pointedly at the new intruders. There was a woman with shocking pink hair that matched her toxic green eyes, glaring at them, a man with mousy brown hair and yellow—not exactly golden, not hazel—eyes next to her, biting his lip uncertainly. There were fair more of others there, including a redheaded woman who twittered over Arthur—Alex assumed that was his wife—and a pair of redheaded twins, a bushy, brown-haired girl sitting next to another redhead, and a—you guessed it—redheaded girl sitting by them as well.

Jesus Christ, what, are they picky about hair color or something? Alex thought incredulously. Either most of the redheads where family or this Order was terribly prejudiced. Well, Kingsley had sorted that out earlier, but still...most of them either looked shocked to see new strangers or a bit wary or full out suspicious (most particularly the pink-head and blue eye.)

Alex smiled, amused, at the tense atmosphere. He called out cheerfully, 'Hello!'

Not expecting it, most of the occupants looked stunned, temporarily letting down their guards. Alex looked toward Kingsley pointedly, and he nodded. This exchange was not gone unnoticed by the Order. 'My name is Agent Rider of the Special Operations division of MI6. This is my partner, Agent Daniels.' Ben gave a slight nod at the introduction. 'We hope it'll be a pleasure doing business with you.'

However, many people looked confused, although the brunette girl gasped. Many eyes turned her way. 'The MI6?' she yelped. 'But you...you look so young!'

'What the bloody hell is MI6?' one redheaded twin asked, confused. Alex raised an eyebrow, his way of showing surprise.

The brunette blushed and said, 'The MI6 stands for Military Operations, Section 6. It's run by Her Majesty's government; it's a part of the Muggle ministry, you could say,' she said uncomfortably, and Alex tensed at the unfamiliar word. 'You could also call it the Secret Service for the United Kingdom.' She looked at Alex. 'You don't look any older than us, though!'

'I'm seventeen,' said Alex stoically. 'And technically, MI6 owns me.' Ben winced at this, but Alex ignored it. His age seemed to have gotten through to some people, and for some reason they relaxed. The redheaded woman, however, didn't. Alex continued on, 'They're have been reports since late July about terrorist attacks that have been killing people at random,' he started bluntly, hearing Kingsley chuckle. 'This has, unfortunately, gotten the attention of Her Majesty and from my sources, she's asked us to take care of it.' Some people looked worried.

Ben took out a file from his coat and set it down on the table. 'These are all the terrorist attacks, including homicides, mysterious family suicides, falling bridges and other environmental and psychological damage done to the people of England,' he tapped the folder, which was a good five inches thick. The brunette slapped a hand over her horrified mouth. 'I hope that you know enough of whoever the hell these people are.' Ben's eyes softened. 'They've targeted schools too. Alex's was destroyed a week ago.' Said blonde's jaw muscles jumped at the painful reminder of James and Tom, but he saw what it had done; gathered their sympathy. Well played, Ben.

'You're muggles?' the blue eyed man grunted, standing up. 'Kingsley, how dare you bring muggles in here! Don't you know the Statue of Secrecy?' he hissed, and Alex was taken aback at his blatant rudeness.

Apparently, Kingsley was as well. 'Alastor,' he said sharply, 'They've taken notice. Agents Rider and Daniels had to come here; too many people were dying. This is where we cross the line, even if the Ministry is being too much of a idiocy to care.' he finished, scowling. At the look on the MI6 operative's faces, he corrected, 'Not your Ministry.'

'Where is Dumbledore?' said the man from down the table, glancing at Alex every so often. 'Sorry, the name's Sirius Black. I own the place.' he introduced himself bluntly, grinning at the end. He shot pointed looks to the others, and soon Alex was trying to sort our through a myriad of names, going from as crazy as 'Remus Lupin' and 'Nymphadora Tonks' and 'Alastor Moody' to some semi-normal ones like 'Ron Weasley', 'Ginny Weasley', 'Hermione Granger', and the two terrible twins—all of them had given emphasis of terrible—Fred and George. They gave him a mischievous look, but them it disappeared in the midst of the crisis that was happening.

'I'm assuming this "Dumbledore" person is your leader?' he assessed, pressing his lips together tightly and crossing his arms. 'When will he be coming?'

'Soon,' Kingsley promised, looking at his watch. 'He's at a meeting right now, for a very important person. You'll have to wait a bit, I'm sorry.' At least he sounded genuine. Alex nodded, feeling as though if 'Dumbledore' was at a meeting than he must have some sort of ties to the government or worked for them, at least, to a degree. He had to know his politics as well.

'In the mean time,' Ben started, 'Do you mind explaining some things?'

Everyone shared glances, Kingsley with Arthur, Arthur with his wife—who was looking pale faced and glancing at Alex every so often—Hermione with Ron, Ron with Ginny, Fred with George, Sirius with Tonks, so on and so forth. Finally, Alex felt like he was going to burst out saying if you don't want to bloody tell us anything then fine! but a large crack was heard and to Alex's great shock—and Ben's—a man appeared in the middle of the room.

He was tall and spindly, with a crooked nose and twinkling blue eyes that were half hid behind round glasses. Long, silver white hair fell from beneath his cap and his beard was tied at the end with a piece of cloth that matched his bright—were those robes? The first thought that Alex had of this man was insane. Then, untrustworthy. And, for extra emphasis, insane.

Apparently Ben was thinking the same thing. 'This is getting crazier by the minute,' he murmured in Alex's ear, and the teen agreed silently.

The old man smiled. 'Why, am I late? Sorry, old Fudge was a bit jumpy today, I think he must've had one too many jellybeans.' he chuckled, and Alex came to the conclusion that this must have been Dumbledore. He didn't know why, but he had the extreme urge to laugh, or at least faint, seeing as how a loony man was in charge of their only hope left against these Death Eaters.

Alex spoke directly to Kingsley, raising an eyebrow. 'I'm losing my patience,' he said stiffly, and Kingsley nodded, looking almost nervous.

'Dumbledore,' he started very quietly, 'I need to talk to you. Privately. With Agents Daniels and Rider.' He nodded in their direction, and Dumbledore stared their way, a bit of surprise leaded in his eyes. Alex met his gaze calmly, his own flashing his waning impatience and slight anger that all these precautions—that he certainly didn't understand—were being made without his knowledge. Dumbledore nodded slowly.

'If you'll follow me to the back room,' he said, motioning for Alex and Ben to follow. Kingsley walked forward without hesitation, and as soon as the door closed behind them Alex smiled, amused. 'You know one of those teenagers are going to be listening in, don't you?' he directed toward Kingsley. Seeing the man's bewildered expression, the blonde chuckled. 'I practically saw the gears turning in their heads. The twins, especially.'

Kingsley looked a bit taken aback before nodding. 'Yes, I do agree,' he mused. 'They've done it to other Order meetings...' he looked toward Dumbledore, sending the older man a pointed look. 'But this is too classified for their ears.' Kingsley reached into his coat and brought out what seemed like—a...stick of wood.

Alex watched, stunned as he waved it at the door and muttered a word or two in Latin that he couldn't quite catch; the door glowed, faintly, and he felt a bit more secure, a bit more sure of himself. The stick was waved over the room, and the only thing that revealed his shock was his apathetic face that held a raised eyebrow. Ben was the same.

'You don't look surprised,' Dumbledore observed, eyes watching them carefully behind his glasses.

Ben smirked. 'In our line of work, there is no such thing as "surprise",' he surmised. 'You have to be ready for anything, including the impossible.'

'We don't have the time or the luxury of emotions,' Alex added afterward, running a hand through his hair. Then, he stared at them more intensely. 'Now, are you going to explain this all or are we going to have to figure all this out the hard way?'

Kingsley and Dumbledore shared a look.

.:.

Alex leaned back in his chair, the one that he had been sitting on since Dumbledore had used his "wand" and brought a whole cabinet up into the sky, proving—at least, for a while—that magic was currently real and very capable of doing things that he would have never been able to otherwise. The whole explanation had been long and winded, going from the very start of the creation of "Lord Voldemort". Dumbledore had, to Alex's suspicion, wanted to leave them in the dark at first. But the old man didn't know his way around interrogation tactics; casually, Alex and Ben had him cornered into revealing at most, everything.

From Tom Riddle, to his fears about 'horcruxes', they hadn't noticed when Kingsley left when he had mentioned something about a woman coming to their "wizard" school to keep one student under close inspection, leaving them with what Alex categorized as case sensitive information. Dumbledore looked weary and much like his age when the whole explanation was done, and Alex's head was running with rampant thoughts; from their "muggle" (that was what he and Ben was, apparently) blood and discrimination to the wizards' utter stupidity.

Of course, he wasn't going to say that out loud. They already had Riddle as an evil lord terrorizing his county, there didn't need to be an old man that had his only chance of gaining vengeance for Tom and James to be angry at them either.

'So, let me get this straight,' he started slowly. 'All of this is because one guy didn't like the fact that he couldn't choose how he was born so he took it out on the rest of the wizard population.' Dumbledore looked a bit taken aback, but nodded hesitantly. Alex rubbed two fingers to his temple. 'And your Order thinks that we can't help because we're muggles, which to you are non-magical people, who in term, cannot do a single fucking thing.' The old man blinked at the atrocious language, and Ben let out a exasperated, 'Alex...'

But Alex was furious. 'So, just because we're muggles, to you, it's not our problem, it's yours, right?' he started nastily, allowing a bit more emotion to flood his voice than usual. God, Tom, unresponsive on the hospital bed and James, James, charred and bloody and broken—

'Have you ever noticed that it's muggles that he's killing?' Alex said loudly, his voice raising an octave. 'Have your lot ever cared that people are dying, and that everyone's going through panic and you're just here, sitting, brooding over your own mistakes and theories? For God's sake, what are you doing? Did you really think that we wouldn't notice? What, is every muggle below your notice?' By this time, Alex's voice had taken on an icy, sarcastic edge. 'I could say that you're just about on the same par as this Riddle guy! The only difference is that he stood up and did something about it while the rest of you bigoted idiots sat in your seats and kept quiet!'

There was an angry silence, containing Dumbledore standing in his spot, still, looking reprimanded, horrified, and shamed at the same time. Alex's cheeks were flushed with colour, and Ben stood up stiffly and said, 'We'll be looking forward to working with your Order,' He gripped Alex's shoulder tightly. 'If you need us, we'll be outside, waiting for your decision. But just know—as much as you underestimate us, remember, that we're the ones that's running Britain and the rest of the world.' Ben's blue eyes flashed dangerously, and he and Alex left the room, only to bump into teenagers that were on the other side of the door.

Fred and George stumbled as the door shut behind Alex and Ben, quickly hiding something behind their backs. The brunette girl, Hermione, also stepped back and flushed darkly as she saw the two MI6 operatives come out suddenly.

Ben scowled. 'How much did you hear?'

They shared a look. 'Not much,' George admitted truthfully. 'Only bits and pieces. The door's been charmed heavily. Reckon Kingsley did it. Pretty well too..' he added under his breath. Alex cursed in his mind and snarled.

Hermione, however, looked pretty curious and hostile, all the while offended. 'My parents are muggles,' she said suddenly, looking at them in brutal honestly. 'I care about them. I love them. Also, my other friends for back home, too.' Every word was delicate and purposefully placed. She glared at Alex. 'What gives you the right to say that we don't care?'

Alex narrowed his eyes. 'Why haven't you revealed magic to the world?' he asked suddenly.

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. 'U-um, well...' she stuttered, not expecting him to answer like that. 'I suppose it's because if you knew that magic existed, then people would try to get magical solutions to everything they do.' She said the last part awkwardly, shuffling as Fred and George moved out of the picture.

'Are you so sure about that?' Ben said, crossing his arms. 'You wizards always jump to conclusions, and that leads to bad decisions. Who says that we need your magic? We've been running the country, hell, we've been running the world properly without magic. We're living without magic, eating, breathing, talking, fighting without magic. Why do you think that we need magic to fix things? We've been doing it ourselves, without your help, for millions of years.'

Hermione's mouth opened and closed in shock, looking like a gaping fish. Alex scowled darkly again. 'It's like I said, Ben,' he muttered. 'They only care about themselves. It's because they're afraid as well—who knows how the hell we'll react? We can treat them as if they were the greatest beings on the planet or we could shun them for being different. Cowards, you all are,' he confirmed to Hermione, who's lip trembled. 'I can't wait to get this mission over with.'

Alex and Ben walked down the hall, thinking of getting back to the kitchen, when Hermione's shaking voice called out behind them. 'T-that's all it is to you?' she started, glaring at them both. 'A mission? Voldemort has been terrorizing the Wizard World for years—'

'There you go again, all about wizards,' Alex rolled his eyes. 'God, more muggles have died than wizards. Screw your head on straight and then talk to us—despite having muggle parents, you're just like any other narrow-minded wizard out there, from what I gather.' He shot her an icy look. 'And yes, this is just a mission to me. Something to be completed and then I will move on, like I always do.' Alex's voice was unnaturally bitter, and he turned around and practically stomped away on the inside.

Ben was a bit more sympathetic, turning to the young witch. His shadow was large and brooding. 'His best friend—practically a brother in all but blood, and all that he has left, is in a coma because of your Dark Lord or whatever,' he said quietly. 'His school was blown up, kids and teachers he knew and talked to killed, their bodies practically teared to shreds. You can't expect him not to be mad. I'm surprised that this is just all that he's showing.'

Ben turned around and let the brunette girl fall to her knees, placing her hands over her face and allowing herself to sob.

.:.