We Few
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
Make him a member of the gentry, even if he is a commoner.
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
Before the Battle of Agincourt, 25 October 1415
William Shakespeare's Henry V, Act 4, Scene 3
Author's Note: And we're off. For those of you who are new I thought it might be important to add that this is a part of a series. And while I try to make each story I write stand alone, I also don't like to have to remind the reader about every detail, I like you to try and figure it out and remember on your own. So it might be helpful, if you want a better idea of Lucy's background, to read the two stories that immediately preceed this one in the series. The Egyptian Exodus is short, just 5 chapters, chronicling the summer before this year, and gives a good background on Lucy's situation. Rockinghorse People, Rebels, and Redcoats is the year at Hogwarts before this, and covers a little more of Lucy's history, the formation of the BA and the International Society as well as the introduction of all the characters in those two bodies. It should not be necessary to read either of the stories before these in order to understand this adventure, and in all honesty, I would almost rather you not read them before the others, as my writing back then annoys me, and Lucy comes close to emulating She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and I'm afraid they might put you off the series entirely, if thise introduction hasn't already accomplished that. So welcome back to me few loyal reviewers, and away we go.
Chapter One: Violent Beginnings
"Afternoon, Miss."
Lucy smiled inwardly at the familiar Yankee twang and gave the Marine sentry her most dazzling smile as she flashed her passport. She breathed easier once she had passed onto the embassy grounds; she had been experiencing a nagging worry all the way across town that she couldn't place. The school year had yet to start, she couldn't possibly be in trouble already.
Well, not probably in any case.
However, nothing could harm her inside the solid and reassuring walls of the American embassy, and the mere sight of the flags filled her with such unexpected good humor that she found herself smiling at nearly everyone, from the family standing in line to the bedraggled man in an overcoat on the stairs muttering about paperwork. Following the now familiar path she climbed to the third floor and preceded down the hall, turning in at the office door, fifth on the right, emblazoned with the title "American Citizen Services."
A pretty woman in her 30's, blonde hair pulled back in a bun, sat talking on the phone in a thick Georgia drawl and motioned Lucy to take a seat.
"Yes Mr. Prescott...no, Mr. Prescott...well I'm afraid that's not quite how diplomatic immunity works here in the UK Mr. Prescott. Yes but-... I see that but-...Be that as it may, sir, the fines will still have to be paid... Well you can take that up with the people over in Judicial Assistance, would you like me to connect you? Please hold sir."
The woman gave Lucy an apologetic smiled. "Be right with you honey," before punching two buttons on the phone.
"Betty? Hi, this is Ruth May from Special Consular Services. I'm fine, thanks. Listen, I hate to do this to you, but I've got Leo Prescott on the phone, again... Yes, well, he apparently changed his mind... Uh huh, well I told him the Consulate doesn't do that but I figure maybe if he hears it from you he'll get himself over to the High Court before we have to deport him...I agree but would the paperwork really be worth the reward? Thanks sugar, he's on line five."
Hanging up the phone with a sigh of relief Ruth May Baker nearly jumped out of her chair to see Lucy sitting patiently.
"Lordy child, I'm sorry, I plumb forgot you were there. What can I do for you?"
Lucy smiled. "I'm Lucy Montero, I have an appointment."
Ruth May glanced down her schedule, "Oh right, with Ms. Womack. Go right on in honey."
The appointment didn't take long. Ms. Womack was a secretary Lucy had met the year previously, who had agreed to hold a few sealed documents for Lucy, on the arrangement that she renewed the contract at a pre-appointed time. If she did not, they were to be unsealed and the directions inside followed. Those instructions were a complete mystery to everyone except Lucy, however the possibility that the documents contained a detailed description of the wizarding world, documented evidence, and the directions to Diagon Ally, St. Mungos, and half a dozen other locations was too real to be ignored. They had provided her with a small bit of protection from the less scrupulous of the Ministry workers, and as long as she remained healthy and free, the documents would never be opened.
Not that they seemed to matter very much given the events of the past summer. A far greater threat to both the wizarding world and Lucy's own beloved Western Circle had emerged, and she was certain that given the recent reign of terror she and her record of Ministry Immigration Violations were a rather low priority. She signed the lease that would guarantee the documents remained locked up until the spring, and made her way downstairs.
The clock started to chime as she emerged again into the London morning. At that sound Lucy pulled her thoughts back to the present and made a dash for the first cab she saw.
"King's Cross please, and as quickly as possible."
As she settled into the seat of the cab, she was too preoccupied with the morning traffic to notice that the man in the rumpled overcoat from inside the embassy was now outside the embassy, watching the cab pull away. Had she been paying attention a few moments later in the ally next to the building, she would have been rewarded with the extraordinary sight of the man in the overcoat transforming into a slight young woman with pink hair. She withdrew from the pocket of the coat a very small bird, to whose leg she tied a small note, and then let it fly. The remarkably quick little animal was out of sight in seconds, heading north. Her job more or less completed, the mysterious woman pulled a candy from her pocket, tossed the wrapper on the ground, popped the sweet in her mouth, cast a careful look about, and promptly vanished.
As it was, she was gone just moments before another young woman appeared spontaneously in the very same alley. She bent down, picked up the candy wrapper, and held it to her nose. Smiling, she tucked it in her pocket, and set off around the corner towards the embassy.
A marine approached as she walked through the door. "ID please- oh, back again are you?"
She smiled charmingly, "I forgot my papers."
"Well, good luck with that then miss."
"Thank you."
Upstairs, in the office of Special Consular Services, just as Lucy Montero was speeding toward the train station, there was a knock on Ruth May's office door.
"Why, hello again Miss Montero, was there something else I could do for you?"
The girl smiled, "Yes, there is."
King's Cross was crowded, and Lucy, not very tall to begin with, was having a fine time of it trying to maneuver her trolley through the busy platform.
CRASH
Lucy grabbed her elbow and let fly a string of Spanish curses that would have made a sailor blush. She hopped up and down to distract herself from the pain, and frowned at the middle aged wizarding couple, their arms firmly about the boy of thirteen, pushing the trolley that had nailed her on the right side, as they made their way through the barrier without turning back.
"Oh I'm fine, no need to worry about me," she grumbled. Honestly, what was their hurry? And a boy of that age, did he really still need both his parents to put him onto the train?
"Sever the umbilical cord, do it now," she muttered, as she tucked her elbows in and fought the traffic to take the barrier at a run.
As she came through she saw the same family stalling directly in front of the barrier. Damn silly thing to do. In what could no way be considered intentional, Lucy accidentally let herself run just a little bit too far, her trolley connecting solidly with the back of the boy's, sending his trunk flying across the platform.
"Excuse me," she smiled, turning her attention toward the train. Now, if she loaded up in that baggage car there she would only have to move about 50 feet...
All thoughts of loading up vanished as Lucy caught sight of the next person to come through the barrier.
The tiny blond girl, however, was checking her trunk, and had her back turned, thereby placing herself in perfect ambush position.
Lucy abandoned her trunk and sprinted towards her victim, ready to pounce.
She hadn't gotten within five yards of Marguerite Ducasse when she found a wand at her throat and three sets of burly arms restraining her, pushing her down to her knees.
"Put your hands on the ground," the only one she could see commanded in a thick French accent.
"Uh, I was in Cleveland."
"What?"
"I don't know what you think I did but I was in Cleveland that week, I swear."
At the ruckus, the blond girl turned around, then raced over.
"Bastian!"
However, she was restrained by yet another burly Frenchman.
"Ecoutez-moi, s'il vous plait! C'est Lucy, mon amie!"
It seemed that the pressure of the wand at Lucy's throat eased a fraction. Bastian turned to Marguerite, who had shaken of the other guard's hold.
"Qui est-ce?"
"Elle c'est Lucy, mon amie. Ne c'est pa dangereuse."
At this Marguerite shoved past Bastian, and pulled Lucy to her feet. She continued to argue furiously with the five French guards, none of which weighed less than 180 pounds, and who, Lucy was certain, knew 25 ways to kill short Hispanic girls without touching their wands. Whereas Marguerite couldn't weigh more than 85 pounds and looked like Goldilocks reincarnate.
And there was no way Lucy was stepping out from behind her until this was all resolved.
After much foot stamping on Marguerite's part, as well as shaking of fingers and dirty looks, the arguing ceased. Then, much to Lucy's surprise and the guard's chagrin, Marguerite pointed to Lucy, ordered something, and then waited, expectantly, foot tapping.
Bastian cleared his throat. "My apologies, mademoiselle. It was a mistake." He gave his men a narrow look. "We are all very sorry."
The rest of the squad mumbled their apologies, after which Marguerite stood on tiptoe to give them each a kiss on the cheek, before they moved away to bring her trunk aboard the train.
Lucy breathed easier once they were out of earshot. "Ok, if I hug you, are they gonna hex me?"
Marguerite beat her to the chase. When she pulled back she promptly collapsed into a state of hysterical laughter.
"You know, you may think that being held at wandpoint by four of the largest Frenchman I have ever seen is funny, but it really isn't."
Marguerite hiccupped and wiped her eyes. "Oh, sorry Lucy, but that was priceless. Don't worry, I convinced Bastian, you remember him, don't you, that you were a friend and not at all dangerous. He has strict orders to keep his distance unless I call for him."
"He does seem a little on edge," Lucy huffed as she began to drag her trunk. Her run in with the magical French Secret Service had mean that the nearest baggage cars were full, she'd probably have to walk to the other end of the train to find a space. Marguerite, un-phased, skipped along next to her.
"Well, they aren't the only ones on edge you know. I mean, look at all the parents here. Even the sixth and seventh years have heaps of family here to send them off, and they don't look like it's for nostalgic purposes either."
Lucy took a look around. Marguerite was right. Just past the annoying family that had attacked her on the platform she recognized fellow seventh years saying goodbyes to parents and young siblings, it even looked like there were some aunts, uncles, and grandparents turned out as well.
"They look sad," she commented softly. And no wonder, from what she'd read in the Daily Prophet. A shadow had fallen over the wizarding world in the past few months, and no one was safe. Hogwarts was probably the last haven left that was still out of Lord Voldemort's reach, and even it had shown signs of weakness. Families clearly understood that anything could happen in the months to come.
Marguerite sighed, "Well, it's not a happy time to be sure. Papa and mama would have come to see me off, but they needed to stay with Andre and the ministry."
"How is your brother doing?"
Marguerite and her older brother, Andre, were the children of Monsieur and Madame Ducasse, the French Ambassadors to the British Ministry of Magic. Andre, who had graduated from Beauxbatons some years earlier, had been alone in the family's London residence that summer when it was attacked with a Dragon Breath Bomb. The attack had lead to the entire Ducasse household staff being sent on sabbatical, and replaced with French Ministry Guards. Hence, the brute squad that was currently following the small girl. As for Andre Ducasse, the young man had been terribly burnt, but had been in stable condition the last Lucy had heard.
"Much better. His sight is coming back, and the doctor thinks he'll recover it completely."
Lucy paused, "I didn't know it was injured."
Marguerite studied the ground intently. "It was a side effect that the gas had on his eyes. They didn't realize it was a problem, that sort of gas isn't normally found in that kind of a bomb, so they didn't flush them out immediately. At first they thought his vision problems were the result of the head injury, but it kept getting worse, slowly, but surely. Once the traumas were healing they took a closer look, and figured it out. They caught it in time, they think."
Lucy couldn't help but stop and pull Marguerite into a hug. "I'm so sorry."
Marguerite held on for a bit before pulling away. "He's going to be fine," she stuck her chin out a bit defiantly, "He's going to be good as new."
She had to be one of the strongest people Lucy had ever met. "Of course he is. I, on the other hand, am going to collapse if we get all the way to the end of the train and don't find a compartment."
They peered inside. Lucy's trunk would have to be shrunk to the size of a matchbox to fit in there.
Lucy groaned.
"It's not possible. OK, let's go-"
She was cut off as a pair of arms grabbed her from behind, spinning her around.
"Trunk trouble, love? Never you fear. Grab that, will you mate? I'll get this little Sheila on board."
"Wesley Lane, if you don't stop that I'm going to be sick."
"Who are you calling Wesley?" Came a second Australian voice from the right. "Gosh, what are you packing in here, rocks? Put her down Wills, I might need help hauling this thing."
"It's not that heavy!" Lucy shouted indignantly, desperately trying to get her bearings. "Marguerite, you are not helping, don't think I can't hear the giggles."
The world stopped, and she was still scooped up in William Lane's arms. "Phew, forget that mate, give us a hand, I might need help hauling this thing... Ow! Hey, that's not playing fair."
Lucy didn't moved her wand one inch from William's eye. "Down. Now."
William lowered Lucy to her feet. Lucy cast a steely gaze at Marguerite, who was still dying of laughter on the ground, and smoothed out her shirt. "A simple hello would have sufficed. What would Warren have said if he could see you now? Your brother was a gentleman."
Wesley Lane guffawed. "Our brother was the one that recommended we do it."
William, in a lower voice, added, "Audrey told him about hows the French girl had a bit of a rough summer. Warren told us to try and cheer her up. Truth be told you were both looking a little low."
Well, now what was she supposed to do about that. She rose up on her toes and kissed the Aussie on the cheek.
William looked quite pleased with himself. "I always knew Warren was a smart one." His gaze slid further down the platform, to where Chandrika Sanji was pulling her trunk along. "Ah, another lady in distress. Wesley, hurry up with that."
With a tip of his imaginary hat to Lucy and Marguerite, they were off down the platform, and Lucy watched enviously as Wesley carried her trunk as if it held no more than air.
Marguerite wiped her tears of laughter on her sleeve and leaned on Lucy. "They're funny."
Lucy sighed. "They're a handful. Two, in fact." The Lanes had reminded her that, as the elected head of the Gryffindor International Student Body, they were also partially her responsibility this year. She could cheerfully strangle their older, recently graduated brother Warren for doing this to her.
"Come on, let's-"
Marguerite's shriek had her whirling about.
But Marguerite was already being whirled about and placed squarely back on her feet by an enthusiastic Chester P. Parker, who had grown ten feet over the summer, or so it seemed.
But Lucy, fairly sure she hadn't been the only one to hear that shriek, cast as wary glance over her shoulder, and saw five burly men striding in their direction.
"Uh, Marguerite, you better call off the brute squad before they tie Parker down to the rails with his own intestines."
"What!" Parker squeaked.
"She'll tell you later," Lucy put a hand on the second year's shoulder as Marguerite rushed by to pacify Bastian and his companions.
At that moment she saw someone waving at her from behind Bastian's frowning form.
"I've got to go, I'll see you at the feast."
"You're leaving!" Chester squeaked again, his eyes never leaving Bastian and his very large hands.
"Trust me,old man,he hates me more than he hates you."
She left the quivering Hufflepuff to his fate, and moved along the train towards the slightly intimidating eyebrows of Dimitri Chernyshev.
"Chernyshev," she greeted the sixth year Slytherin with a handshake and a nod.
"Montero," the burly Russian grinned, "Good to see you back."
"And you," Lucy glanced over Dimitri's left shoulder and waved to Katya Kuzmin, who was loading trunks. "Have a nice summer?"
Dimitri shrugged, "Undefeated, can't complain."
Lucy frowned, "Um, right."
A large hand clapped her on the back, "Summer Quidditch League, it's all he'll talk about. We'll be lucky if he ever shuts up."
Dimitri smirked, "What's that, do I hear the bitter moan of St. Petersburg's sore loser? Get over it Vlad, its not healthy to hang onto all that rage."
Lucy grinned as Vladimir passed by her to heave his trunk into the luggage compartment.
"Oy there, I've got a system!" Katya flashed her prefect's badge the way the FBI might flash their identification. Vlad grumbled, but eventually the 5th year pulled his trunk back to wait while Katya resumed organizing her system.
Dimitri chuckled. "Listen, you're the Gryffindor Supreme...err...head, umm, the head, yes?"
Lucy chuckled, "Something like that, I can't quite remember the title, but, well..." she pointed to a tatty piece of paper with the letters "SP" written on it pinned to her shirt.
Dimitri nodded, "I am so for the Slytherins. We thought it would be a good idea to have a meeting as soon as possible."
Lucy nodded; Dimitri was the head of the Slytherin Chapter of the Hogwarts International Society, as she was the head of the Gryffindor Chapter. Just what exactly the society was supposed to do was anyone's guess, as it had only formed officially the previous term.
"Sounds good. Any ideas as to where?"
Dimitri shrugged, "We're not hiding from anyone anymore, the library'll work fine."
Lucy nodded, "All right, I'll talk to the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs."
"Was hoping you would do that. I'd do it myself, but they get a bit skittish around us, as you know."
Lucy smiled, "They don't mean to really..."
Dimitri chuckled, "Oh yes they do. But we're used to it, and working around it, which is where you come in."
"Right, I'll get back to you then."
The whistle blew. With one fluid twist of her wrist, Katya sent several dozen trunks smoothly flying into the baggage compartment. She closed the door with a flourish, crossing her arms and looking extremely pleased with herself.
Then, of course, she shrieked.
"Onto da train! Now! Slytherins, on board before I start to loose my summer good humor."
With a nod to Dimitri, Lucy stepped on board and began to move down the cars.
The section was predominantly Slytherin. She was greeted with cheer by Saori and Mai, fellow international students that she had roomed with in London over Easter, but they weren't who she was looking for. A few more cars brought her into Ravenclaw territory, and it wasn't long till she heard the voices she was searching for.
"Now, that wasn't my fault."
"Not your fault? That's rich, considering the burn marks that remain on the floor to this day. Did the fireplace walk itself halfway across the room?"
"Those were probably from that bloody bird, isn't it?"
"Lucy always kept him in the corner Lynx, there's no way Sparks caused that mess. It was you. Drunk."
"I was not!"
"I saw you! You're only lucky Lucy didn't find you in that state."
She poked her head in, "Lynx is lucky I didn't find him in what state, Bet?"
Lynx Brimstead flushed from his toes to the roots of his extremely wild platinum blond hair. "No state whatsoever. It's good to see you Lucy, how was your summer?"
She decided to let whatever it was that Lynx had so obviously burned up in her absence slide, and gave the 6th year Hufflepuff a warm hug. She then plunked herself down next to the other boy in the compartment, who leaned over and saluted her cheek.
"Rasheph, thanks so much for the papers this summer."
Seventh year Ravenclaw Rasheph Radu grinned, "Oh that? Don't mention it. Say, you moved around quite a bit didn't you? Have a relaxing holiday?"
"Not nearly. How about you Bet, alls well at castle Tsepish I hope?"
Bethany Tsepish, the final occupant of the compartment, rolled her eyes and tossed her long black hair. "The last of the medieval tapestries bit the dust in July, but the outside still looks all right, and that's all that matters."
The Tsepish family was an old pureblood clan with a well respected name and not much else in their possession. For all of their Romanian noble connections, the family fortune had gone dry years and years ago, as Bet had revealed to Lucy privately. Enterprising young soul that she was, the seventh year Slytherin had been paying her way through Hogwarts by running a high stakes gambling ring in the dungeons.
A ring to which Lucy would be eternally grateful, since they had donated the funds that had enabled several Hogwarts international students, including herself, to pay tuition and fees for the forthcoming term after the Ministry had withdrawn their scholarships.
"Good to know." Lucy settled herself down. "So, any developments over the summer?"
"Well, didn't you read about Lynx's second cousin being found in a most unorthodox position in Bath- ow!"
"That woman is not related to me, for the forty-seventh time!"
Bet sighed as the two boys grappled on the floor. "Lemon drop, Lucy?"
"Yes, thank you." Feeling much like she was watching a televised hockey match, Lucy scooped up a handful of candies.
"No, no Rasheph, you'll never hold him like that, you have to immobilize the-"
"Lynx, now that was just flat out cheating."
"But creative, you have to give him that."
"Mmm, very Slytherin of you Lynx, I'm surprised."
"But that has to be the most pathetic headlock of all time."
"This is kind of sad, now that you mention it. Didn't you have any brothers at all?"
The wrestling match continued despite the heckling, and eventually could not be contained within the compartment. With one twist Lynx pulled himself and Rasheph through the compartment door and out into the corridor.
"Ow!"
The scream, however, was female.
The boys froze at once, then scrambled up, revealing the crumpled form of a small black girl, with a very bloody nose.
"Oh, geez, sorry about that, it was an accident."
The girl scrambled to her feet. "Accident my foot!" As if to prove it, she stamped her left foot.
At that moment three things happened. The door to the compartment slammed shut, both Rasheph and Lynx's heads twisted to the right, as if they had been smacked, and Lucy felt a ringing in her head.
A glance at Bet showed her that she had heard the ringing too.
The stranger grew very quiet, pinching her nose and backing away.
"Listen, it's ok, really, I'm just going to find a bathroom and-"
"No!" Lucy and Bet shouted at once.
"I've got a handkerchief right here."
"Why don't you come and sit down for a minute, you know you might have hit your head. The boys were just about to take a nice walk to cool off."
"And find the snack cart, weren't you?"
"Er, right. Yeah, let's go." Sheepishly, Lynx and Rasheph slunk off down the train.
"They're normally pussycats, really. Come on in, I'm Bet, this is Lucy, and you are?"
"Agatha, Agatha Dunstan."
Lucy pressed her handkerchief to Agatha's nose, and noted the Hufflepuff badge on her cloak.
"Your in Hufflepuff then? That will make Lynx feel extra guilty. Do you know Lynx?"
Over the next half hour they discovered that Agatha Dunstan was a third year Hufflepuff with Quidditch dreams and herbology nightmares. She lived in London, which explained the cockney accent, her mother was a nurse at St. Mungos and her muggle father was a children's book illustrator.
Bet finally decided to stop beating around the bush.
"So how long have you been able to toss stuff around without a wand?"
Agatha paled.
Lucy elbowed Bet in the ribs.
"Cause, you know, Lucy can, she's been doing this since forever."
This caused Agatha's eyes to widen and earned Bet a second elbow in her ribs.
"What? You knew she could do it, I knew she could do it, she might as well realize she can do it."
Agatha shook her head. "How did you know?"
"What, besides the shaking compartment doors and excellently timed mental smack-down that you gave the boys?"
"That- that couldn't be me."
Lucy patted her hand. "Besides that, your were glowing like a roman candle, mystically speaking."
Agatha leaned back against her seat. "I could never explain it, I just thought it would go away."
Lucy sighed, "Do you want it to go away?"
"You can do that?"
"Probably, if you don't want to learn how to use it."
"Use what?"
"Your gift," Bet grinned, "You sort of stumbled right into an informal meeting of the closeted magical freaks of Britain."
"What?"
"Barbarians Anonymous, that's what we call ourselves."
"We're thinking of having buttons made, but that would defeat the purpose I suppose."
"You mean you all can do this?"
Lucy shrugged, "We're all a little different. I was raised in a school for magic like this, so I can do it all, sort of. Bet, Rasheph, and Lynx, they all discovered their abilities more recently."
"And we're all good at different things. Rasheph can put images into peoples heads, I can hear thoughts, in a way, Lynx makes things fly around and blow up."
"What?"
Lucy rolled her eyes, "He's an elementary firestarter, but he has a long way to go on the control."
Agatha shook her head. "Wow. How come I never heard about this before?"
"We don't exactly advertise. People tend to get nervous."
"Right, right, of course. Wow."
"Like I said, if you don't want to do this, you don't have to. It's fairly simple for me to make it go away at this stage."
Agatha studied her shoes for a long while. "I might have taken you up on that, before I realized that I wasn't alone."
Bet grinned. "Trust me, you're connected to more people than you think through this."
Agatha smiled, "Well, count me in."
"Huzzah!" Came a cry from outside the compartment, and Lynx, Rasheph, and a younger boy with curly brown hair burst through the door, ending up in a heap on the floor.
"Not again," Bet groaned.
"But we brought sweets!" Lynx popped up, nearly bobbling the cauldron cakes, which Agatha rescued.
"How long have you boys been outside," she asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Long enough to realize that we have a new member," the curly haired boy grinned. "I'm Magnus, by the way, ran into these two at the tea trolley."
Magnus Mercury had only joined the BA at the very end of the previous term. The club itself had spontaneously formed during sixth year, when Lucy, who had been trained all her life at the Espiritu Institute, a Western Circle school in Northern New Mexico, realized that there were other students at Hogwarts with the "gifts" to manipulate natural energies. The club's existence was kept a secret, since Lucy knew more than anyone how most Hogwarts students reacted to the presence of "wandless wizards". She had made the mistake of not being discrete during her first year at Hogwarts two years ago, and had learned from it. In the terms since, she had made a greater effort to fit in, and, in the usual pattern of teenage gossip, her "oddity" was soon forgotten, or at least, ceased to be an entertaining topic of conversation; of which she was very grateful.
Bet, Lynx, Rasheph and Lucy had been the BA's founding members, and Magnus had found his way into the association on his own, through Rasheph. Lucy didn't question that, she was an Espiritu, which made the BA an extension of Espiritu, and Espiritu, unlike some Western Circle schools, never recruited. There was a certain mysticism surrounding the school's founding, and traditionally the students found a way to the school, rather than the other way around.
Which is why Lucy saw Lynx and Rasheph's "accidental" tackling of Agatha as a perfectly natural means of introduction.
And indeed, the girl seemed more comfortable in the company of the clowning trio, and she extended her hand, "Agatha Dunstan, Hufflepuff."
"Mercury," Magnus managed between bites of his cake, he wiped his hand quickly on his trousers before returning Agatha's handshake, "Ravenclaw."
"Rasheph Radu, Ravenclaw."
Agatha raised an eyebrow at the badge on Rasheph's robes, "You're a prefect?"
Rasheph blushed. Bet giggled, "He's normally a bit more sedate. You can blame it all on this fellow," she poked at Lynx, who had squeezed himself between Bet and Agatha on the seat.
"Lynx Brimstead, Hufflepuff as well, I haven't seen you around much."
"Your on the Quidditch team," Agatha shrugged, as if this explained everything.
"Yes, and he does get hit in the head a lot, poor darling. You know Lynx, Agatha might be going out for Quidditch, you should pull some strings."
"Oy?" Lynx, his mouth completely full of chocolate frog, grinned broadly, which was a terrible brown and gooey sight. "Well, I'm not captain, but you ought to try out."
"Yes, because we all know Hufflepuff's chronic reliance on a deep reserve bench." Lucy snickered.
"Hey, just because your lot finally managed to get through a year without having your seeker mortally wounded during game time is no reason to get up on your high horse with me. Or shall we recount the record breaking injury list of two years ago?"
"Uncle," Lucy growled.
After the boys had finished stuffing their faces with the sweets that they claimed to have brought for the girls, the conversation flowed easily from Quidditch to classes to Rita Skeeter's latest book. The train chugged north, darkness had fallen, and Magnus was launching into another epic tale of the authoress' addiction to herbal teas (among other herbal products) when Marguerite appeared at the compartment door.
"Lucy, could you spare a moment?"
Lucy excused herself and followed Marguerite down the train.
"What is it?"
"We just got a letter."
"What? Who? Where? How?"
Marguerite sighed and pulled her along toward the back of the train. "A letter, addressed to the International Society, just a few moments ago at the back of the train, delivered by a swallow, we think."
"African or European swallow?"
"What?"
"Never mind. Who found it?"
"The Slytherins, you know they like to take up the final couple of cars, well apparently it kept knocking on the window of Dimitri's compartment. When he opened it the bird flew in, dropped off the letter, and flew back out. They haven't opened it yet, they sent Sasha to get me, I'm supposed to bring you and Sergei, and someone else is tracking down Gisella."
Gisella was the head of the international Hufflepuffs, and Sergei was in charge of the Ravenclaws.
They found Dimitri in the back baggage car of the train, along with Katya, Vladimir, and Koji/Kentaro, the Tsujimoto twins that for the life of her Lucy could never tell apart.
The caboose of the Hogwarts Express was designed for trunk storage, not passenger comfort, Lucy soon realized. The Slytherins were sitting on a few stray trunks that weren't piled to the ceiling, so she and Marguerite opted for the floor.
"What are you doing back here?"
Dimitri nodded towards a very full ashtray near the back door.
"Right. So what's this about a letter?"
Katya tossed the envelope across the car. "Came about five minutes ago. No idea where from, of course, we wanted to wait until the rest-"
At that moment sixth years Gisella Trifiro, Sergei Petrenko, and Aysha Doman burst into the car, followed by a more serene Sasha Yudin, a Slytherin 2nd year. "What's going on?"
Vlad groaned and lit another cigarette.
Once the story of the letter's appearance was repeated and they agreed everyone was on an even footing, Katya eagerly ripped the envelope open.
"Well?"
Katya flipped through what looked like several pieces of paper, then sighed and handed two to Marguerite.
Marguerite glanced at it, "It's in French. Why would they write to us in French?"
"This is not Russian," Katya passed the papers she was holding over to Dimitri, who shrugged and passed them to Vlad, who handed them to Sergei, who handed them to Sasha.
"Let me see." Sasha raised her eyebrows at Lucy's request, but handed the papers over. Lucy flipped to the end.
"The signature is appalling, Vincent Laaa... or is that a 'K'..."
"Lucy, can you read that?"
"No, but I thought that if we knew who sent it, we might have an idea about at least what language it was written in."
Gisella looked over Marguerite's shoulder. "What does it say?"
"It's says that they are writing on behalf of the Beauxbatons student body."
"What!"
"Shhh! Go on..."
"Valerie... Valerie Krann..."
"Lucy, can't you do that any quieter?"
"I've almost got it!"
Lucy was being completely ignored, as she held the paper up to the light to better make out the letters in the signature.
"What does Beauxbatons want with us?"
"They heard about us, and what we went through last year, how we stood up to the Ministry and ultimately became recognized by the government and the school."
"Is that what we did?"
"Not really, but it sure sounds nice when you put it that way."
"What else does it say?"
"They realized that we are the only kind of official student organization at the school-"
"What, the Amphibian Acoustics don't count?"
"And as such they want to-"
"Hey! Who the hell is Victor Krum?" Lucy interrupted.
Dimitri's eyes nearly fell out of his sockets. And the letter was nearly lost as he made to rip it out of Lucy's hands. Sergei intervened.
"I don't believe it, you're right Lucy, I've got an autographed picture and that's his signature."
Dimitri was still reeling, and drooling. "The letter is from Victor Krum... let me see it."
"Who is he?" Lucy took the letter back from Sergei. The boys were clearly not stable enough to handle the document.
"He's a Quidditch player," Katya sighed. "Comes from Bulgaria, he was here for the TriWizard Tournament three years ago, the Durmstrongs Champion."
Lucy was on her feet and picking her way around trunks, headed for the door.
"Where are you taking Victor's letter!" Dimitri cried.
"Nicholas or Svetlana Kornakovitch, their families are from Bulgaria, their parents sent them here because they don't like Durmstrongs politics. This letter is probably written in a language they can read."
"Well can't you leave it with-"
BANG
Lucy had her hand on the doorknob, with the door partly ajar. The explosion knocked her back over a trunk. The car swayed crazily to one side and the shriek of protesting metal was nearly deafening.
They saw the trunks sliding on the racks, but there wasn't time to get out of the way. Lucy didn't even think to scream, but instinctively curled up and threw her arms over her head before the luggage came crashing down and the world went black.
OoO