"Quickly," Alex hissed. "This way."

They were quite slithering through the aisles nearest to the Restricted Section. Every time they passed an end of a bookshelf Alex caught a glimpse of the bars that went from floor to ceiling, black and polished and imposing. Alex sighed inwardly. As much as she wished to see the Restricted Section—for no other sake, if nothing else, than to see a restricted section—she wondered for the millionth time if they were just wasting time. Net to her Regulus followed easily, looking unperturbed and in command of himself—his poker face, Alex realized. In case they were caught, they had decided, it would be at least more dignified to act as though they had done nothing outside their rights. Regulus, however, had carried out this decision to a scary end.

"What's next?"

"You know what's next," Alex sighed.

Regulus grinned briefly. "I do," he said. He drew out his wand and carefully aimed at a bronze eagle statue sitting on the entrance of the Restricted Section, on one of the marble column jambs.

"Wingardium Leviosa," he whispered. At the same time, Alex drew out her wand and shouted softly, "Diffindo!"

Now the eagle statue was hovering softly above the column and Alex swallowed. Madam Pince was sitting at the entrance of the Restricted Section, pointedly looking over her spectacles at the catalogue of books lying on her small desk. Hopefully she didn't notice anything—yet.

"Animoso," Alex said, pointing directly at the heart of the eagle. Slowly, miraculously, the eagle's head turned slightly, and its wings began to flap, albeit feebly.

"It worked," Alex breathed out, disbelieving. She had practiced on her quill and other things in her book bag, but she wasn't certain if it would work with a heavier object.

"Now where to, Master Regulus?" she asked, grinning. Suddenly it seemed ridiculous that they should be caught in their little enterprise, not at all, and she enjoyed the surge of confidence that filled her slowly from the head.

"Her quill," Regulus suggested. "Fly off with it." Alex nodded and pointed her wand at the eagle again. It took off from its nest, its flight far too graceful for a simple statue, and landed on Pince's desk before grasping her quill with its claws and departing again, into the depths of the Restricted Section.

"Stop!" Madam Pince screeched, waving her wand frantically at the bird. "Stop it, whoever you are!" She fumbled to follow the bird. Alex looked at Regulus. Their eyes met.

Without further comment they sprinted into the Restricted Section. It was late morning—right after the brunch on Sunday—and the duo had ascertained that no upperclass student had entered the library, much less the Restricted Section. Most of the students had gone home for the holiday, and the rest who remained were still barely awake, happily massaging their bellies in the Great Hall. They had discussed the time of the "invasion" several times and concluded that today was probably the most ideal.

"Wouldn't it be safer at night?" Regulus had said one night in the Common Rom, when everyone had gone away to pack. "No one will see us."

Alex thought and shook her head slowly. "Maybe they won't be able to see our faces, but security's tripled in the night. Filch roams around the castle and the door will be locked and I bet there might also be several detection charms placed at strategic corners. Besides, we won't be able to read what's right in front of us unless we have some light, which is sure to get us caught. There's only Pince guarding the entrance in daylight and she's always guarding the books in the library, so she gets up frequently. She usually locks the doors before she goes anywhere, but in case of an emergency—" Alex grinned. "She won't be able to."

Regulus sighed. "I suppose," he said. "Sunday would then probably be the best. Everybody lazes around on Sunday." Alex nodded.

"The diversion," she continued, "we should plant it inside the Restricted Section. Then Pince will suspect that it came from outside, especially if she thinks no one entered the section in the first place."

Regulus nodded. "I'd promised to return Narcissa's books before the break," he said, rolling his eyes. "She's probably too busy watching over Lucius to do anything else. They're from the Restricted Section—I'll plant something in them and when the time is ripe we'll set it off." Alex nodded.

"Bigger the better," she said.

So now they were racing through the aisles of the Restricted Section, running as far away from Pince as they could. Alex looked back briefly. The eagle was nowhere to be seen—hopefully, it was successful in its escape.

"Now?" Alex asked, gasping. The sprint had done nothing for her unexercised lungs. Regulus shook his head.

"Further away," he gasped. "That… thing… is… loud." Without argument they ran further.

"Here. Here might be good," Regulus said. "I saw Pince reshelving those books—they're close to the entrance." He took a deep breath pointed his wand. "Reparo," he said.

Alex furrowed her eyebrows. "Wait, Reparo? What are you do—" The question was answered when a shrill voice rang through the library. It yelled an incoherent jumble of words, very few of which Alex could catch—she thought she had heard 'blood' a couple of times, but she wasn't sure. She put her hands over her ears. Next to her Regulus frowned distastefully.

"I'd put the Sonorus charm on it," he said right onto her hand. "A Howler. It's not as loud as I hoped it would be."

"Trust me, that's more than enough," Alex said. Regulus grinned.

"So what now?" Alex muttered. She could hear Pince's own shrill shouting mix with the Howler's voice, something along the lines of 'Come out, you unscrupulous ruffians!'

"We wait it out," Regulus said. "Like you said, Pince will go outside to look for the culprit." The shouting ceased a little. Alex relaxed her shoulders and searched inside her pocket for the list that Binns had given her, as well as his permission slip.

Regulus looked at her oddly. "Why on Merlin's shoelaces do you have those for?"

"Insurance," she said. "If anyone asks, Professor Binns sent us here and Pince let us in."

Regulus nodded. "Good thinking. Now let's get to work—we have a long day in front of us."


They had spent the entire morning and a better part of the afternoon cooped up in various niches of the Restricted Section, avoiding the watchful gaze of Madam Pince. The goal, they decided, was not to read as many books as they could, but smuggle out as many books as they could; so the pair diligently gathered every book that seemed relevant or interesting, creeping the aisles slowly, their arms trembling with the effort of carrying so many books. When a group of particularly rowdy third-years attracted Madam Pince's attention, Alex and Regulus quickly walked out of the entrance, looking as though they owned the place. They quickly disguised the smuggled goods with other library books at their usual desk and proceeded to sit along with the rest of the students.

"Now that I come to think of it," Alex said. "Where did you get the Howler?"

Regulus smiled rather tightly. "Sheer improvisation," he said. "It was the first thing at hand."

"Yes, but why?"

Regulus put down his quill and sighed. "Barney—you know, the family owl—delivered something to me a few days before Easter. Apparently, Mother wished to express clearly that either Sirius will have to apologize or he wasn't welcome during the break." He shook his head. "I don't think he was planning to go anyhow, but I suppose she wanted to beat him to the punch. Anyway, it seems that Sirius gave her a rather… er, scathing reply. So Mother sent me a letter to give him an earful."

Alex frowned. "She sent you a Howler?"

Regulus merely quirked his eyebrow.

"That's not really fair, you haven't done anything," Alex said indignantly.

"I'm sure that Mother meant little by it," Regulus replied tiredly. "She was probably just in one of her episodes."

Alex pursed her lips, the letters in front of her no longer as exciting as they had been. Regulus never said anything against his parents, so Alex didn't know what was exactly wrong with them other than that they never seemed to be able to accept their eldest son. She wanted to ask more, but, looking at Regulus's expression, decided not to.

"I'd torn that Howler into two before it was finished," Regulus continued. "And had planned to throw it away until I realized that I needed a diversion. We can't get to Zonko's or any other joke shop like that. I do think I heard a group of students talking about some secret mail order..." Regulus trailed off, somehow deep in thought, before shrugging and going back to his book.

"It was a good method anyhow," Regulus said after a while, still looking at his book.

"I beg your pardon?"

"The Howler," Regulus said. "It burns itself after it finishes delivering a message. Or tears itself up. In any case, we are in no danger of being traced."

Alex nodded, but didn't have heart to tell him that that had been the least of her worries. Instead she went back to her book, Foreign Elements by Azamat the Younger. She was surprised to find the book, even more surprised when she realized that it had been translated, with the original ancient text on the side for clarification. It spoke of magic in two opposing parts, where one magic both challenged and complemented the other. The introduction, however, was too theoretical and began to make her lose focus. Her eyes read the same sentence over and over again, wondering why it always ended with a period…

"Foreign Elements! Why, didn't think you had that in you, Wilson!" A familiar voice said from somewhere near and Alex opened her eyes to find Rosier grinning down at her, casually flicking over the book she had been reading. Alex snapped herself awake.

"Lower your voice!" Regulus's hiss came out unexpectedly venomous.

To her surprise, no one contradicted him. "He's right," Mulciber said. "We can't be seen with that book. It's dangerous." He looked around. "Where did you even get that book, Wilson? Most people would have your head for it, you should know."

"I—" Alex began to say, but her brain was still slightly foggy from her slumber and she hesitated. Luckily, Regulus took over.

"I lent it to her," he said quietly, and other boys gathered around the table to listen in. "I had a copy at home. Why not?" He shrugged indifferently.

"Then you should've told her to not take it out of the Slytherin Common Room!" Avery said hotly, and several onlookers looked their way. He lowered his voice. "What were you thinking, letting her read that in plain sight?"

Regulus raised his eyebrow very, very slightly. "Are you suggesting that I have been incautious, Avery?" he asked quietly.

Avery swallowed. Alex could see the conflict playing out in his mind, the urge to argue back and to cringe at Regulus's cool gaze. Alex frowned into the book. She felt uncomfortable whenever Regulus became that way. And it seemed that he acted that way more and more frequently as the year passed.

"Of course not," Avery muttered. "We should just all be careful, that's all." He cleared his throat and looked around. "I have to—I have to find a book. For—for Potions. Yes, Potions." Without further comment he hurried to the nearest bookshelf and Rosier followed. Mulciber gave one last look at the book before leaving. Alex forced herself to look undisturbed, but she had seen the look in Mulciber's eyes—it was almost greedy.

Regulus sighed when he was certain that they were gone. "I didn't think they even knew where the library was," he muttered. "So much for privacy, then."

"Reg, do you—do you know this book?" Alex asked, holding it up. Immediately, Regulus's hand shot up to bring her hand down—gently, but unmistakably firmly. Alex gave him a quizzical look and Regulus looked around.

"I didn't realize that you had that," Regulus whispered. "It's out of circulation. For a reason. There is only a limited number of copies around the world. Surprising, really, that there would be one at Hogwarts, at such a plain sight. It's well known that there's one at my house—that's why I told them I lent it to you. Nothing good can happen if they knew you had your own."

"What's going on?" she asked.

Regulus didn't answer. "How far did you read?" he asked.

"Just the introduction," Alex answered. "It's a bit dull, actually."

Regulus looked like he wanted to laugh. "Dull. Really."

"It just keeps talking about two kinds of magic—"

"Right," Regulus said. "Light Magic and Dark Magic."

Alex looked at him in surprise. "How did you know?"

"Alex, Azamat the Younger was the founder of the theory of duality. That for every magic, there is another kind of magic; and, if all magic is put together, there are two kinds of magic in total. Light and Dark magic."

Alex shrugged. "So?"

"Alex, he's the first person who came up with the idea of Dark Arts." Regulus's eyes were intent and serious as he looked at her. Alex frowned.

"That doesn't sound right," she said. "The Dark Arts that we know is used to hurt people. He talks about Dark Magic that's just really an opposite of what Light Magic is—you know, like opening and locking spell."

"That's how it began," Regulus said. "A harmless idea. Then some people grew scared about what Dark Arts could mean and decided to ban the entire subject from public discussion. Rather hypocritical, really, seeing as Light Magic builds off on Dark Magic. Just the way Dark Magic builds off on Light Magic. It's a pity."

"Regulus," Alex said again, "how do you know all this?"

"It's a part of the history of magic," Regulus said. "Our understanding of what magic is. We don't learn the theoretical aspects until Sixth or Seventh year, when most students drop the class altogether. Which is another pity. People should know more about these things." Alex didn't know what to say to this, but the book in her hands suddenly felt a lot heavier than it did a moment ago.

"Reg, do you think—" Alex frowned. "Do you think people should know how to practice Dark Arts?"

Regulus looked back at her. "Of course," he said. "Isn't that what I just said?"

Alex nodded. "Right," she said. She went back to her book, but couldn't resist stealing a glance at her friend soon after. He was immersed in is book—what it was about, she hadn't asked, and, after their recent conversation, wasn't sure if she wanted to—and Alex considered his hair falling into his eyes and curling around his ears, the crease between his eyebrows, his lips set in determination. Occasionally they moved as he read along a line that he wanted to think over before closing firmly again. Regulus Arcturus Black who was her friend.

Her mother would most definitely not be happy, Alex knew. Although they had never talked explicitly about the subject, Alex surmised that her mother had little love for Dark Arts or the You-Know-Who—that's what Daily Prophet called him anyway—who had been creating havoc and terrorizing civilians for almost two decades now. She had automatically branded Regulus as "a Black" and was clearly not fond of his mother. Alex had resented her for thinking Regulus as nothing more than "a Black boy" who followed his parents' ideals but now—now she wasn't so sure, looking at the bridge of his nose, it wasn't clear if she saw Regulus, her friend, or Regulus Arcturus Black, a boy she didn't know.

"Stop staring," he muttered. Alex's eyes widened but she soon said,

"I'm not staring."

"Yes, you are," he said, "and it's making me feel uncomfortable." Then he looked up and grinned at her, a lighthearted, playful grin, and Alex looked away, feeling oddly guilty.

Polaris Wymond had praised Foreign Elements again and again in her book, citing it as one of her best sources in regards to the understanding of offenses and defenses that should be built around them. She had shown no hesitation about its delineation of magic into Dark and Light magic or the potential harmful effects of Dark Arts—but perhaps Alex spoke simply with the benefit of time and experience of history. Certainly, Polaris Wymond's book did not show any consciousness about Dark Arts as a way to harm people. Quite the opposite, in fact, was her view in some cases; to stop the enemy from entering a mansion, for example, one might put protective spells around the area, defensive in nature, designed to repel outsiders—potentially quite harmful—but it was for the sake of defense and protecting one's own life. And had she not read articles in the Daily Prophet about the regulation being lifted so that Aurors could use Dark Arts to capture the Death Eaters? What separated Dark Arts from non-Dark Arts, then, but who was using it? The ultimate judge, as far as she could tell, would be the future generation…

But Alex remembered some of the more unpleasant books she had come across in the Restricted Section and wrinkled her nose as she remembered the pictures of men with damaged skin, thickened—quite literally—blood, shrunken body parts, and wondered who would ever be able to inflict such harm on another individual. Or what would propel them to do so.

Slightly before dinner she and Regulus decided to take the books back to the dorms, where they could view them with less circumspection. Alex stored the books in her trunk, which she pushed under her bed, and did not open it until she had gone to dinner and came back, feeling suspiciously watched even though Rebecca and Leslie had gone home for the break. From the trunk she took out Bagshot's Legends and Myths—one of the books on Binns' reading list that had actually appeared promising—and flipped open to chapter eight. The Legend of the Four.

The first wizards appeared seemingly out of nowhere, often confused about their abilities and unaware of the existence of other magical folks. It was not until humanity began to congregate into towns and later cities that those with magical powers began to encounter one another and discover their potential. As their community grew larger and larger, four leading wizards of the day decided to properly found a city, known to us only by the name A (some speculate that this is the mystical Atlanta that often features in Muggle fantasies), built by the hand of every man and woman. Four sectors were established to keep the society in order, and thus the Four Points emerged: Libra, responsible for administrative matters; Gemini, food and entertainment; Capricorn, education; and Scorpio, in charge of defense, the peacekeepers.

Although the founders, bound by their ideals and hopes, led the city in peaceful coexistence, envy that gnawed at each sector's hearts led to strife within the once glorious city of A. Libra, drunk with power, wielded their scythe mercilessly, and, after the invention of wand, began to terrorize those who went against their command. Gemini decided to deprive the other wizards of food and merriment in retaliation to Libra's tyranny. Some scholars of Capricorn found the situation hopeless and left the city of A to educate wizards in different parts of the globe who did not have the advantage of collective magical knowledge; the most famous examples of these scholars were the founders of Hogwarts, one of the oldest magical institutions in the world, currently located somewhere in Scotland, United Kingdom. Other scholars began to take sides, some siding with Libra's efforts to rule A with reason and logic, and others aiding Capricorn with their knowledge. Scorpio tried to maintain the outward appearance of peace between the four sectors, but when the war broke out between Libra and Gemini, they found themselves torn between two warring sides that demanded their loyalty. Deciding that it would do least harm to not choose, they remained neutral. When Libra and Gemini threatened to eradicate every last one of its members, however, Scorpio finally made a choice: they disappeared.

When the brutal and bloody war finally came to an end, most of the citizens of A had already fled to different parts of the world, searching for their kin, joining secret magical societies. The glorious achievements of A became misty, dim memories of a distant civilization. The three sectors broke apart, disappearing into different parts of history. Rumors soon began to flow, however, of a secret society among the secret societies, made up of the descendants of Scorpio, now calling themselves Conservato; they maintained the order of the wizarding world through clandestine means, often penetrating the existing societies as their own members, mingling with the indigenous people to gain trust and influence. The center of this society was never found, however, and the rumors soon disappeared.

Now the legend of the Four Points and Conservato would be safely classified as extinct, as it was decided by Bertie Babblesheath that the pursuit of this mythical organization would lead only to a tremendous waste of time and odd consequences. The most recent scholar of this legend was oddly enough Gallert Grindelwald, who was fanatic in his search for the lost society of the Darkhiders. Attempting to exterminate all forces that could oppose him, he followed a trail that he believed would lead him directly to the center of Conservato; however, his explorations came to a dead end, as could only come from chasing after an invisible thestral…

Alex stared at the last word, disbelieving. Was that it?

Certainly, Bagshot treated the legend more seriously than Regulus or Binns, but that was to be expected—she was writing about it. And she had devoted an entire volume to various legends that described the beginnings of the wizarding society, recounting each tale as if they were all valid before offering her views or opinions. Alex flipped through the book, and it was clear enough that all tales started in the same manner—that wizards, scattered across the globe, gradually became aware of their powers—although in some tales select individuals were given magical powers by three gods H, W, Y. There were Greeks who believed there was a special goddess of magic, but to them every godly power seemed magical, too…

Alex rubbed her eyes. The book provided far too many options for her to be able to decide which she found most plausible. Polaris Wymond had spoken so confidently about the Legend of Four Points that it seemed almost indubitable that the legend was false. But supposing that it was true, supposing that it was—why was it so important to a woman in sixteenth century whose family primarily worked in defense and fortresses?

Alex's eyes widened, reading the passage again.

A section called Scorpio in charge if defense and peacekeeping, who later disappeared as a sign of their disapproval of the war. Convervato, a secret society of Darkhiders, whose job was to maintain order and peace of the wizarding society…

But that didn't prove anything. Regulus had said it—Binns had said it. People those days were fond of quoting from old legends and myths. But why this legend—were the Wymonds simply fabricating a family heritage that they didn't exist to feel important? Were they just one of the new rising families that began to gain prominence? Polaris Wymond did not mention any other legends, not one, focusing on the Legend of the Four, repeating, over and over, that while she could not say much on the subject, that her family is connected to it. Had she been relying on the ninth Cygnus to catch the meaning? But why?

Darkhiders?

Bagshot's book had been in the Restricted Section for at least three decades. That much Alex could tell—the book itself was the first edition and there was at least half an inch of dust on the book when she first picked it off the shelf, despite Madam Pince's meticulous attention to the condition of her books. Presumably, no upper class student ever bothered to pick up a book about myths and legends of the magical world when there were books about—she didn't know—Dark Magic or the secrets of alchemy. Come to think of it, why were these banal collection of legends, which most students would probably dismiss as nothing but children's fairytale, placed in the Restricted Section to begin with? And she still didn't have the answer to the first question: was Polaris Wymond truly related to Conservato, a secret society that has existed since—since the beginning of the wizarding society? Or was it the end and disintegration of the wizarding society that truly marked its beginning? Alex didn't know.

Alex looked down at the book. It was a fairly thick volume, twelfth in the series of twenty—surely, no one would notice if it was missing. She frowned. It was probably not a good idea to carry the book around everywhere, however. It was quite heavy.

Without much hesitation Alex held the corner of the page carefully in her hand and pulled gently. The paper easily came loose, almost tearing itself out of the book. She carefully folded the torn page into four before placing it between the pages of her personal notebook, which was promptly put back in her trunk. The book itself she stowed away in her book bag—she would return it to the library tomorrow.

Alex stood in the middle of the room, looking around. Three poster beds, hers most messy because she had recently lain on it, her bag placed far too neatly on the chair in the corner. Her eyes shifted restlessly from and object to another object. She tidied up her side table, feeling edgy, and because she couldn't calm down, she dragged the trunk from under the bed, took out every article of clothing, book, note, and quill from it before arranging them neatly back in them. She even separated her notes from the pile and organized them by subject and date—well, Regulus had been dropping hints since February that they should probably begin to study for the final exams. Who began to study for the final examinations which were in May in February, Alex didn't know. But it was the middle of April already and Alex supposed that it was about time. She sighed, looking at the pile of notes on her bed. At least Regulus will be pleased.

But she was still restless.

She opened the door and slowly crept out of the girls' dormitory. Not many students in Slytherin had stayed for the break, but there were always some older students who was ready with a complaint about noisy first years or something else and she didn't want to give them another excuse. The common room was dimly lit—some students were finishing up a game of wizard chess, and an older couple were sitting in a secluded armchair in the background. Alex decided not to look at their direction. She did not need that right now.

Regulus was sitting on an armchair by the fireside, reading. Alex crept up behind him, looking down at what he was reading.

"Is that—is that Foreign Elements?" she asked, surprised. Regulus didn't look up, as though he had known the whole time that she was there.

"Yup."

"From your house?" the library copy was safely stored in her trunk. She knew. She had just cleaned it.

"Hm." She took this to be one of assent. Alex sat on the foot of the armchair, resting her back against Regulus's shins. Behind her he shifted slightly, but let her stay in her position without comment. The flames had the characteristic lime tinge to it and Alex wondered if the flame was magical or if it was real—if there was even a difference between those two. The wizards took the magical flames as authentic. That should be enough, shouldn't it?

Her mother had not said much about her father. Alex had never pressed her about it, even when she learned that she was a wizard, because she felt it was a subject not to be discussed with her mother, and because her mother never seemed happy whenever the subject came up indirectly or directly. The Sorting Hat had confirmed that her father also went to Hogwarts and was a Slytherin—funny that her mother should object to her having Slytherin friends, then, although perhaps her mother's refusal to talk about her father may explain that sentiment. But she must have loved her father at some point, cared about him deeply. Was it impossible that, had Altair Wymond been the direct descendent of Polaris Wymond, he would have told Sophia Wilson about his family secret? But was Altair a descendent of Polaris Wymond and had Polaris Wymond been truthful when she implied the connection between herself and Scorpio? Or, perhaps more importantly, were her interpretations in any way true? She didn't know.

"Something's wrong," Regulus said. It wasn't a question.

"Nothing's wrong," she said.

"Something is," he said. "So what's wrong?"

Alex looked at the flickering flame, feeling its warmth slowly spreading through her body. The Common Room was warmer than the dormitory. Alex didn't know that. "What are you doing here at this hour, then?" Alex asked.

"Reading," Regulus answered. "Can hardly open this book up there without getting pestered about it. Or worse,…." Regulus paused. He didn't say anything, but Alex nodded.

"Stolen," she filled in quietly. Regulus sighed.

"I brought it from home during winter break as a bit of a side reading," he said. "I knew it wasn't the brightest idea, smuggling it inside the castle, but it's an important text for most historians of magic. I thought I would give it a try." Alex nodded. They sat in silence for a while. Alex could hear Regulus's quiet, regular breathing behind her, an occasional rustle of the pages as he deliberated on turning the page or not, a slight shift of his legs every once in a while for comfort. She leaned her head against his knees. Regulus stilled.

"Alex, what's wrong?"

"I don't know," she answered. "I can't tell what it is." Regulus remained quiet.

"I just wonder—if my—my dad—was something else—and my mum—knew about it," Alex murmured slowly, sounding almost drowsy. "I don't think I should ask her. I've wanted to, ever since I learned—learned that I was a witch. I don't think she'll tell me if I asked. She didn't even want me to come here," Alex paused.

Regulus seemed to consider. "For what it's worth," he finally said, "I think you've done very well the past months. And I—" he cleared his throat awkwardly. "I'm glad I've met you."

Now Alex stilled in her position. Considered. Decided that silence was the best option she had right now.

Thankfully, Regulus still had some things to fill the silence with. "And about your parents—I don't know what happened, so I can't say much about it. But maybe you'll find out more about it—maybe they'll tell you—when they're ready. It'll get better when we're older, you'll see." Then Regulus Black did something unexpected by letting go of his book and gently stroking her hair as if she were a little puppy in need of a comfort. Alex froze, acutely aware of her surroundings and wondering how they had both ended up in this position. At his words of reassurance that things will get better—that she was doing very well—she felt an overwhelming surge of surprise and gratitude and a feeling of comfort that she had not felt in a while. She had discovered an old friend, a precious friend whom she hoped would stay by her side for a long, long time, and, this wish just uncovered, Alex didn't know what to do with it other than just to relax against him and close her eyes for a moment. Respite.

They didn't talk about what happened the day after nor during the entire break. They did not talk about it when they studied for the final examinations together in the library or even when the left for the train station after the final feast. The train ride back home was a quiet one, surrounded by other students who were excited for the summer, eagerly discussing plans, giving out invitations, the early summer sun high in the sky. When the train came to a stop, Regulus helped her get off the train and she accepted his offer without comment. He smiled at her and she smiled back. The exchange lasted very briefly before they parted ways; Regulus went to find his parents, and Alex was met by her mother's welcoming embrace. She looked back and gave him a final wave. He grinned back.