A/N: And the real plot actually begins this chapter, now that I've introduced the characters' situations. Any suggestions are welcome, as are criticisms.


"Argh!" Alfred yelled, smashing his fist against the girls' locker room door in anger. Berwald, a hulking fellow seventh year, caught his hand before he could do any more damage. "I can't believe they'd do that. Again." He huffed, spinning away and ripping his wrist from Berwald's grip. Mathias grabbed his shoulders, shoving him back against the wall.

"Alfred, get a hold of yourself. Madam Pomfrey said that she should be right as rain tomorrow. It's just a sprained wrist." Alfred scowling, shoving Mathias off and crossing his arms.

"It's the fourth fucking time this week that they've done something like that, Mathias, not counting the time that they cast a stinging hex on me just as I was turning into Madeline. They 'accidentally' tripped her in Potions and caused her a bloody knee. They just 'happened' to hit her with a shrub trimming hex in Herbology. It was totally 'by chance' that Eduard dropped his solid gold goblet on her head while she was looking under the desk for a pencil during Transfiguration the other day. And let's not forget that they obviously 'didn't mean' to shove her down four flights of stairs this afternoon on her way to practice. Yeah, that's all blooming bad luck, all right." He snapped at the captain. "Something's going on, and I don't think it's just about her. It's about all of us." He picked up his broom, slamming his locker shut and slinging his bag over his shoulder. "I'm just saying, we've got to watch ourselves now. It's not a coincidence that all of them are on the same damn team that we're neck in neck with for house points and Quidditch stats. So watch your backs, and especially watch Maddie's. They obviously know she's the lynchpin of this team." Mathias nodded his assent, drawing murmurs of agreement from the rest of the team.

"Alright, everyone, that's a deal then. We don't let our guard down, and Maddie's got someone with her at all times, okay?" With the routine team fist bump (Alfred's contribution to the team rituals), they left the locker rooms in pairs and trios, walking back up to the castle. Alfred walked alone, steps heavy and angry. He didn't bother dropping off his stuff in the Gryffindor tower, instead bypassing it to step straight onto the staircase that took him to the top of the Head Tower, where Arthur and Madeline's common room was located. Muttering the password (scones, as per Arthur's choice), he hopped through the portrait hole and dumped his bags down onto the rug in the entry hallway. The common room was empty, the fire flickering low, and Madeline's bear Kumajirou sat blinking steadily in front of it.

"Where're Artie and Maddie?" He asked it, crouching down.

"Who?" it said, pointing to Arthur's room.

"Thanks, little buddy," he said, getting up and hopping the couch to lean against the door handle, pushing it slowly and quietly open. Madeline was sleeping, her wrist bandaged heavily and held carefully between both of Arthur's slender hands. Those green eyes looked up at Alfred's uncharacteristically silent entrance, beckoning him over to the bed.

"Heya," he whispered into Arthur's hair, giving his forehead a kiss and sitting on the bed next to their prone figures.

"She just fell asleep a few minutes ago," he murmured back, tugging at Alfred's ratty sweatshirt in an attempt to force him to lie down beside him. Alfred kicked off his boots and shucked his sweatshirt, tiptoeing around to the other side of the bed so he and Arthur could sandwich Maddie in a defensive cocoon. Tanned, muscular arms twined with pale, sweater clad limbs to wrap their precious girl in fierce protection. A soft kiss later, and the two boys were drifting off into an uneasy sleep.


Arthur dreamed of losing. He dreamt as she fell. He dreamed of watching from the stands, unable to move, as his girl fell from a great height, tumbling head over heel, her golden hair shining in the darkness of the pitch. He saw the team, he saw them try to catch her, brooms speeding and moving, but there was no hope. He saw her hit the ground with a porcelain crash, her body a rag doll in the grass. He woke up with tears on his cheeks.


Alfred dreamed of loving. He dreamt pale skin and rose skin and gold skin all tangled up together in the sheets of red. He dreamt clothes sliding off and fingers trailing, of red kiss marks on collarbones and skin slipping smooth as limbs locked and the bed shook. He dreamt of their red cheeks and blue-green-purple eyes, or wrapping his arms around the others' slender bodies and cushioning heads on his muscle bound chest. He dreamt of light exploding and sensation blurring and the long slow descent back into steady breath and tired bodies. He woke up with rubbing thighs and tight jeans.


Madeline dreamed of lions. She felt their hungry golden eyes all around her, watching her walk down the corridors of her dreams. She dreamed of their claws on her back and their teeth at her neck. She dreamt their hot breath on her face, their smirking expressions in her view, and she shivered and screamed for help. She woke up with arms all around her and lions nowhere in sight, but the terror still caught in her chest.


And it was only one in the morning, but the three were awake. Arthur clung tight, reassuring himself that his golden girl was still there. Maddie lay still, holding their arms to her abdomen and stealing their warmth. Alfred shifted uncomfortably, his head kind of spinning and his stomach kind of tense and hot. When Arthur's hand brushed his hip, seeking to pull them closer together, he groaned, trying to muffle it in the pillow too late.

"Alfie?" Madeline asked, turning to face him. "Are you alright?" He took a deep breath, burying his face in her neck and bucking his hips against her thigh.

"God, you smell so good," he murmured, arms wrapping tight around his lovers. "I can't even help myself." Arthur smirked on the other side of Maddie, grateful for the distraction from his pessimistic dreams. He pressed close against the girl's side, pushing the three bodies together and sliding a knee through her thighs to put pressure on Alfred's aching groin. Madeline gasped into Alfred's hair, Arthur's knee brushing and pushing against her in a way that caught spindly nerve heat in her stomach too.

"Arthur," she breathed, her head falling back, hair splayed golden thread nimbus across the pillow. Alfred shoved, drove her flat on her back beneath him, catching bitten red lips with his own and tasting her deep while Arthur watched and rubbed his need on their side. Thin fingers snaked between the kissing bodies, catching on buttons and zippers, tugging fabric away from skin. He pulled himself up, insinuated himself behind her, lay her back flush against his chest and bit little hot wet kisses on her shoulder. She gasped and bucked and drew away for air, panting and slumped against him. Alfred grinned, his cheeks hot and eyes glazed and shirt half undone, coming closer to grasp Arthur's chin and slip his tongue along eager lips.

"Mmmm, Artie, you're such an instigator," he whispered along the other boy's jaw, sucking his earlobe into the heat of his mouth. Arthur just whined and pulled him closer, and they let themselves blur into a deep, hot, sticky honey glory that lasted them the night.


Madeline shivered, dragging her scarf close and hurrying along to the greenhouses. It was her first class of the day, Advanced NEWT Herbology, and she was bemoaning the lack of heat in Greenhouse Five, where today's lesson was held. She had just barely managed to escape her teammates to get away to this class, the sheer necessity of time and space allowing her to go down to the greenhouses alone. They'd been following her nonstop since her last "accident", and it was only the fact that Sadiq couldn't afford any more tardies in Care of Magical Creatures that had let her escape escort. Honestly, these shift things were getting ridiculous. She was Head Girl, and certainly she should be able to take care of herself. And honesty, Madeline didn't find it that big of a deal that she was being bullied. She was the best Keeper at school, she was the Head Girl, she was the one person that Peeves didn't terrorize, and she was dating the two most eligible young golden boys in the entire seven grades. These were all reasons enough, she thought, given that she'd been harassed for less before. And the injuries weren't all that bad, though the shrub trimming hex had made horribly odd designs in her body hair, as it was meant for topiaries. She was just glad that it hadn't been aimed at her head. Alfred and Arthur had had a note of desperation around them that night, pressing her closer and holding her tighter than usual, and while she didn't mind it in the least, it had let her know that they were really very worried about her.

So far, there had been four days without incident. And here she was, Wednesday morning, nerves on end and wand in her jacket pocket, feeling the paranoia of her teammates sink into her. Every night at practice, Arthur came to watch them, guarding the stands in order to make sure no more Stinging hexes were cast at unsuspecting players. It was actually kind of nice for him to be there to shout suggestions about their formations out from below in the stands. Not paying attention to where she was walking, too busy thinking of the past few days, Madeline slipped and slid and twisted her ankle on a wet patch of stubbly grass.

"A-ah, ow," she moaned, sitting up and pulling her jeans aside to assess the damage. It didn't look too bad, something a quick Inflammation charm could fix. She hardly noticed the person coming up beside her before their shadow blocked the weak sunlight from her face.

"Do you need some help?" A strangely accented Slavic voice asked, a pale white hand outstretched towards her. She looked up into purple-red eyes and a long pastel pink scarf wrapped around a thick neck. Slowly, she took the proffered hand, standing up carefully and righting herself.

"Thank you," she said, smiling up at the strange boy. "You're Ivan, right? Ivan Braginski? I'm Maddie." The boy laughed, a strange quiet giggle, and grinned childishly down at her.

"Oh, I know who you are, Madeline Williams. You are the Keeper that always manages to thwart my boyfriend's teammates from scoring. You are a source of great frustration for him, da?"

"Who's your boyfriend?" she asked, confused and slightly unnerved.

"Ah, you know him, Gilbert," he said, nodding his head. "He seems to have a strange fascination with you, little Madeline. I find it rather… unhealthy." She shivered at the menacing undertones of his voice, drawing her book bag closer and backing away.

"R-right. Well, thank you for helping me up, Ivan, but I really must be going, my class starts soon and I can't be late…" She trailed off, turning quickly to flee towards the large glass building, away from those dead purple eyes.

"I'll be seeing you, comrade," the large boy called, waving to her as she retreated hastily.

But she just couldn't seem to shake the shivers Ivan's eyes caused.


Silver and green wrapped wood hit the wall, red eyes dark and angry. Gilbert flopped back onto the bed, frustrated, his translucent shaggy hair silver snow against the dark pillowcase.

"Why is she so obtuse?" He muttered, rubbing his eyes furiously with clenched hands. A large, thick hand petted his head, comforting him with soft movements.

"She'll get it soon," Ivan said soothingly. "I make sure of it, da? Just for my Gilbert." Gilbert rolled over, burying his face in the other boy's lap and twining their fingers together.

"Thank you, Vanya," he murmured into the soft fabric of the boy's sweater. Soon, Ivan would make her understand. Soon, Madeline would be theirs.


And so we meet our "villains".