"I'd rather take an Avada Kedavra to the face."

A little overdramatic than normal, but in this case, Abeo thought it fit.

Rose fixed him a glare. "I'm serious, Abeo. Tristan's wand is a problem, and as Ravenclaw prefect, it's your job to sort it out."

The Arithmancy corridors were quiet and mostly undisturbed; Arithmancy, magic dealing with the supernatural properties of numbers, was not a popular subject at Hogwarts, especially given it was only offered to fourth-year students and above. Nestled high in the towers, the walls and corridors nearest the Arithmancy classrooms were sharply cut and lean of decoration. Logical, forthright, just like maths.

As such, it was the perfect place to hide. Abeo liked to retreat here when he needed time to think. Unfortunately that also made it the perfect place to be accosted by uptight girls asking for way, way too much.

"You're a prefect too," Abeo pointed out, though he knew immediately that she was going for the male angle of his role. He quickly said, "He's a complete bellend, Rose. I've spent the last three weeks trying to avoid him."

"I know," she said, with a twinge of sympathy that meant she really, really did understand. "But the truth is I've already told him."

"Oh?"

"He hasn't listened to me," she said. Each breath was pained; apparently she'd fallen ill over the weekend and was still recovering three days later. "So I'm hoping you'll change his mind."

There was a reason Abeo had done his best to avoid the notorious popstar. One: he'd become the talk of the school, and Abeo didn't need that spotlight in his life, to be associated in any way with him even though they shared a room and house.

Second: he'd completely pulled away Lonnie from their friend group. Likely just a phase, Abeo thought, but his brow furrowed anyway. Lonnie liked to dip in and out of things, and when she fixated on something, she really went for it, but Tristan wasn't a thing, a hobby, he was a person. What if she abandoned their group for good? Forgot about the friends she'd had since her first year here? Her absence was hurting Teagan, too.

Third, and finally: Tristan Asher was a complete and utter douchebag. Enough said.

Abeo ran a hand along his cropped hair. "I don't know if I can convince that idiot of anything, let alone to part with a wand."

"I don't care how you do it," Rose said. "Buy a new one for him, tell him he can have it back later, appeal to his good looks—"

"He is not good-looking," Abeo groused.

"Just get him to give it up. It's dangerous."

"What's wrong with his wand anyway? What wood and core is it?"

"It's, er," Rose's lips rounded. "I don't know, but it doesn't obey him, and it nearly— it could hurt someone, is all."

"Why not get a teacher to do it?"

"I'm trying not to get the teachers too close."

Abeo snorted. "Because of this party?"

"Ssshhh!" she hissed, waving her arms about and looking around. No one was here; Abeo knew it. "Yes, because of the party. They'll ask too many questions, like how I know the wand is dodgy."

"How do you know?" He raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong with his wand, Rose?"

"It doesn't matter," she snapped, in a way that said, yes, it matters a lot, but Abeo wasn't going to press. "Just do something about it, okay? I'll see you in DADA."

"Fine."

She left him alone at the top of the stairs. Abeo tried not to grimace. He'd done his fair share of unpleasant tasks as prefect, but nothing as bad as this. It was unheard of to go after another wizard's wand, demand they destroy or change it, but if there was something wrong with it… the only class they shared was Charms, but he'd been too focused on his own work to pay attention to Tristan. Was he going to react like a baby would when their favourite toy was stolen?

He eventually slunk down the stairs, moving quickly to his next class. Defence Against the Dark Arts. The desks were neatly ordered in front of an old chalkboard. Professor Oliviera had yet to emerge from his office off the little stairs at the front of the classroom, so Abeo found his desk and sat down.

The door opened. Abeo looked up. Scowled.

"Covington."

The boy who'd entered had a dreary, dismal sort of aura, the kind radiated from rain storms and grief, but Abeo knew better than to think of it as anything but a front. There was a leanness, a hardness, to him, like a sheathe for a sword. Harmless in appearance, but hiding sharp depths within. His smooth, black hair was plaited to his shoulder, his eyes dark and skin fair.

"Fulami," said Sorrel Covington, voice a low rumble of thunder, accent a strange concoction of Irish and English. He drew his gaze away and found his own desk, almost the opposite side of Abeo's, and sat down, discarding his Slytherin robes over the back of the chair.

Trust Sorrel Covington to be early. Abeo looked desperately at his watch. Fifteen minutes until this damn class starts. Fifteen unnecessary minutes in Covington's presence. Maybe he could escape? Go to the Ravenclaw common room? Hell, sit in the corridor? Abeo relented in his chair. No. Then he'd look like he was running away.

Professor Oliveira's door opened; out popped a face with a well-maintained blooming of stubble.

"Ah, good. Can I trust you boys to push the desks out? I need the space for demonstrations."

Please no. But Abeo said, "Yes, professor," like the annoyingly good student he was.

"Of course, professor," added Sorrel, though he looked like he'd rather jump off a cliff.

Or take an Avada Kedavra to the face. Really, what was it with stupid people in Abeo's life?

The two boys stood. Sorrel used some of that hidden strength to push his desk to the windows. Abeo, bristling that he'd decided not to use magic, took the opposite side, nudging the desk until it was flush against the wall. The sharp screeching of the moving desks punctured the silence between them, and it wasn't until he'd successfully moved most to his side that he realised Sorrel had done the same. One desk remained perfectly in the middle between them.

Abeo went for it. Sorrel went for it. They both reached it at the same time.

Am I really going to be this petty? Abeo thought. Yes. He tugged the desk his way as Sorrel tugged it the other.

"There's more room on my side," Abeo said through gritted teeth.

Sorrel's dark eyes glittered coldly. "There's clearly more room on my side."

"You never could count properly, Covington."

"It's not to do with number, Fulami. It's to do with space. There is more space on this side because the front door is on yours. Thought Ravenclaws were meant to be wise?"

"Why are you getting so arsey about a desk?"

"Same to you."

Abeo didn't rise to the jab, but before he could do anything Sorrel gave a fierce tug and yanked the desk from Abeo's hands, then smoothly pushed it against his side of the wall. Hidden strengths. Though Abeo mostly celebrated the fact that Sorrel was not on the Slytherin Quidditch team, so as to see his punchable face less, he had to admit with power like that he could easily survive under the gruelling training regimes.

Abeo moved his stuff and sat impatiently on the edge of a table. Sorrel did the same on the other side, but kept his mouth shut as he opened his textbook on his lap and reviewed the topic. It was an excruciating five minutes before Lonnie arrived, arms intertwined with the international students Minhyuk Park and Halie Williams, with a sulky Rose trailing behind. A stab of jealousy caught Abeo in the gut; it wasn't just Tristan, it seemed, that had pulled Lonnie away.

Yet she grinned brightly when she spotted him, brooding in the corner, and rushed over. "Hi, Abeo! What's with the expression—" Her eyes drifted to Sorrel, and then she whispered, "Oh. Saxophone. What'd he do?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Abeo groused. "Arsehole through and through."

"Just ignore him. He's an eejit." She gestured to Minhyuk and Halie. "I was just telling Minhyuk and Halie about the party! There's a dress code. Casual formal. Dresses and suits. That okay?"

"I'm invited?"

"Of course! I vouched for you. Tristan—" She cut herself off hastily. "Well, never mind what he said, I wanted you there and he agreed."

"No, no," said Abeo, as Minhyuk and Halie dumped their stuff. "Tell me. What did Tristan say?"

"He just— he just thinks you're a bit overbearing, is all."

"You mean I put up less with his bullshit?"

"No," said Lonnie, though it was clear he'd said pretty much that. "Come on, Abeo. You can't not go. It'll be fun!"

Great. So Tristan was talking smack about him to one of his supposed best friends, and now he was going to have to use his authority to rip away his precious wand? This would never work, no matter what Rose wanted. She was clearly listening to the conversation too, her ears subtly turned this way as she unloaded her textbooks.

"Are Coop and Teag and Feliss going?"

"Obviously!"

"Then I'll think about it."

Lonnie squeezed his arm gratefully, then began to take out her own stuff. Oh, what he did for friends. It was a comfort to know the others would have his back. Teagan especially. She was never easily won over by celebrity culture, not like Lonnie, nor even like Felicity and Cooper, were. With them around this party would be a bearable affair, at least.

A dark thought crossed his mind. He could stop it altogether, if he wanted. Use his prefect authority to shut the party down before Tristan could even open his mouth to argue. But no. Abeo wanted to be known as someone to trust, not someone who used his title to stamp out fun.

(Basically not like Rose, but he'd never say that to her face. How Tristan had convinced her to hold a party was beyond him.)

The rest of the class soon trickled in, including the other international students – Brooke, Malina, Suzume, Karlin – and Scorpius Malfoy, who as always found a space with the other Slytherins and began rolling his shoulders to warm up. Abeo's eyes darted between him and Sorrel, alone and still glued to his textbook, and a quiet smile emerged on his face. Whatever dumped in Sorrel's bed every morning affected everyone's attitude towards him, including his housemates.

It was satisfying to see him alone.

The professor's door clicked open. Oliveira strolled out, wand in hand and black robes billowing. His ivory button-down did little to hide his impressive physique – certainly worthy of a teacher of Defence Against the Dark Arts. He was blond-haired, blue-eyed, his skin weathered from battle, but he couldn't have been older than early thirties. A handsome face marred by the past, definitely.

"Move to the edges, please. We're continuing where we left off with protective spells. Quiet, now." He eyed Lonnie, who cut off whispering to Brooke. "Okay. Watch me. Repello Muggletum!"

A wispy substance blossomed from the edge of his wand like a fountain. It seemed to coat the room in a shimmer before dissolving from eyesight completely. A few students made noises of awe.

Abeo rolled his eyes. This would be easy.

"Anyone know what this spell does?"

Rose's hand shot up first, but Oliveira picked on one of the Slytherins.

"Casts an area where Muggles won't wanna' go."

"Correct. This is one of the most imperative spells necessary for wizardfolk. I'm sure you can guess why, especially considering such a spell was discovered during the time of persecution for witches." He waved his wand, expelling the last of the substance before it vanished, and turned about the room. "It does exactly as its incantation says, repelling Muggles. What happens to Muggles when they come across an area protected by this spell?"

Rose's hand shot up again. Oliveira frowned as no one else did. "You know this was required reading?" When no one obliged him, he turned to Rose. "Go on."

"They experience a feeling of discomfort, of wrongness, and they turn around and try to escape as fast as possible."

"Correct. So, this is what we'll be working on. Don't underestimate the difficulty of this spell – many trained wizards have trouble with it. I hope by the end of next week we'll all be able to cast it perfectly, but that might be a little ambitious. Once everyone gets some grasp on it, we'll move outside to practice on larger areas." He pocketed his wand. "I'm going to pair you up for this. Let's see…"

Abeo took a perceptive step closer to Lonnie, but Oliviera's eyes crashed against his, and he knew he wasn't fooled.

"You two will just talk. Lonnie, with Rose. Abeo, with… Sorrel."

… Shit.

Abeo considered pairing up with the Slytherin to be less preferable than running naked through the Ministry of Magic hallways. Their eyes clashed – Sorrel glared daggers at him as they reluctantly moved to stand together. Sorrel's powerful scent rolled off him, wood and cloves, the crackling of a firepit.

Once Oliveira had grouped everyone, he stood on the landing of his office stairs, allowing them space to work.

"First pair to do is successfully will get points for their houses."

"You better not drag me down, Fulami," Sorrel muttered, drawing his wand. It was a brown tinged with green, the handle dark and the wood light. Ugly. "I don't expect you can help yourself though."

Abeo gritted his teeth. No. He would not deck him in the face, much as he deserved it. Oliveira was still watching them all tentatively as wands raised into the air and incantations bleated feebly with little results.

"You do it then, since you're so clever," Abeo muttered, gesturing for Sorrel to continue. Hilariously Sorrel was several inches shorter than him, and it was just the smallest advantage he liked to use to full.

Sorrel cleared his throat, traced the wand in the air and said, "Repello Muggletum."

It sprouted a tiny, wispy substance. Nothing else.

Abeo snorted. Sorrel's jaw hardened.

"Your turn then."

Abeo draw his wand. "Repello Muggletum!"

The resulting puff of magic was not much better. Flushing, Abeo resisted the urge to watch Sorrel's reaction as he continued to practice the wand movement again and again. Mild chatter drifted around the room, but both Abeo and Sorrel were silent, waving their wands and muttering to themselves.

"Slytherin, ten points," Oliviera called suddenly. "Well done, Scorpius, excellent wand work as always."

Abeo watched Scorpius perform the spell. The enchantment eased from the tip of his wand like he'd been doing it his whole life. Not two steps away, Rose was watching him, furious with herself.

"Abeo, Sorrel." Abeo ripped his eyes away to Oliviera, who was now staring at him. "You're paired for a reason, so your partner can give you guidance. Wand movement, pronunciation, gumption. Come on now."

Sometimes it felt like Oliveira knew how much they loathed each other, and prompted them to work together for the sheer fun of it. Sorrel let out an aggravated grunt.

"Repello Muggletum."

This time the spell emerged and split from the tip of the wand. Not nearly as powerful as Oliveira's casting, nor even Scorpius', but better than nothing. Abeo resisted the urge to grumble; it'd only been twenty or so minutes, and already Sorrel had done better than him.

"Well?" Sorrel pressed, staring sideways and tapping his foot. "Have you got nothing to say?"

"Your stance is bad," said Abeo.

"That's a weak criticism."

"If you can't take weak criticism, love to see you when you get strong criticism."

Sorrel let out another noise of dissent. "You're telling me I'm bad for the sake of it."

"I'm legitimately saying your stance is shite and you won't accept that."

"I won't accept baseless criticism."

"You won't accept anything."

"You're pathetic, Fulami."

"Better than being an arsehole."

"Boys!"

Abeo realised a moment too late that the classroom had gone silent, that everyone was watching them argue, that Oliveira was glaring at them beneath hooded brows.

"This is terrible behaviour, from both of you. Five points from Slytherin. Ten from Ravenclaw—"

"What?" Abeo protested. "But—"

"For swearing," said Oliveira, glaring down at him. "Another outburst like that, you'll both get detentions. Get on with your work. Now."

Even though he'd lost his house points, Sorrel's smile was infuriatingly smug as he continued to twirl his wand in practice. Burning with rage, Abeo clamped his mouth shut and continued on his own, barely saying another word to Sorrel, until the bells clambered through the classroom. Then he couldn't escape fast enough.

He waited around the corridor wall for Lonnie, who appeared almost instantly, cloak haphazardly slung over her shoulder.

"Abeo! That was awful, I'm so sorry."

He grunted. "Do you think professors have selective hearing? He was chatting so much shite and yet I'm the one who lost the most house points because of my language."

"He's green for a reason."

"Not all Slytherins are bad."

"Yes, but green is definitely bad."

"… What?"

"I don't know," she said quickly, leering into space as if looking into another plane of existence. "I've never liked the colour green. It's ominous." Then she grinned. "Let's go to lunch!"

Teagan was sitting between Felicity and Cooper at the Hufflepuff table, ignoring the confused stares from the other Hufflepuffs, and waved them over when Abeo and Lonnie approached. Abeo watched Lonnie's eyes – there was a second, perhaps shorter, where her own gaze went searching for Tristan, but when she couldn't see him she waved back and moved towards the Hufflepuff table. Abeo was equally relieved and tense. Another moment to put off this stupid task as long as possible.

Really, he was only prolonging what was inevitable. He didn't say anything as he sat down with Lonnie, whose mouth was already moving a mile a minute. Did she know something about his wand? It was possible. Lonnie prided herself on knowing exactly everything about everyone, and she'd been hung on Tristan's arm all week.

"— pets aren't allowed. Tristan doesn't want fur or feathers or… toad… getting into the Butterbeer barrel."

"Aw," Felicity said, frowning into her soup. "I wanted to bring Pumpkin. She really hates being cooped up in the dorms all day."

"Are you sure?" Cooper asked Lonnie. "We can't even bring one?"

"Nope." She leered at Coop. "And no, we are not having a repeat of Operation Flying Cat."

The whole group gasped.

"But it was such a good idea!" said Felicity. "If not for… well… you know…"

"Wasn't Operation Flying Cat your idea, Lonnie?" reminded Teagan.

"It was!" Cooper cried. "It got me detention for a month!"

"Yes, well," Lonnie lifted her chin, "I've turned over a new leaf since then."

Everyone looked at Abeo. Expecting a sharp retort or something, probably, and if he were in the mood for it, he might've challenged Lonnie on the idea that she couldn't turn over a finished project, let alone a new leaf. But his tongue was dry, so he let out a single, non-committal, "Heh," and went back to moving around his mashed potato with a fork. He glanced up; Teagan was watching him intensely, but the moment their eyes met she looked down to the side and avoided his gaze entirely.

"Is something wrong, Abeo?" asked Cooper.

"It's Sushi Covington," Lonnie supplied. "He made us lose house points during DADA."

"Ooooooh."

Felicity's cheeks puffed. "Oh, well, I should… we should go over to him and… tell him off!"

"Yeah, that will really show him," Abeo snorted, and his heart lightened slightly when all four of them laughed. "It's fine. It's not him, actually. I have… something I need to do."

"Oh?" Lonnie said, grinning. "What is it?"

He rolled his lips once before, "I've been asked by… er, someone, to confiscate Tristan's wand."

Lonnie went totally still.

"His wand?" asked Cooper. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

"That's what I want to know, but the… er, person who asked me to do it wasn't very open with details." He raised his eyebrow. "You know something, Lon?"

"No," she said at once. "No, I don't know what you mean."

Teagan frowned. "You always go red when you lie."

"I-I'm not going red!" insisted Lonnie, going red.

Abeo levelled her fork at her. "Spill."

"It's nothing— none of our business, really—"

"Lonnie!"

Stabbing himself in the chest would've been better timed than Tristan's arrival, hair flopped over the newly-shaved side. There were two girls on his arm – Gryffindors – who were grinding their teeth with jealous rage as he approached and smiled down at Lonnie, eyes on her.

"There you are. I was looking for you."

Lonnie stood up at once. "I-I was just having lunch with my friends."

"Oh? Naturally, of course, the lovely Teagan and Pependragon. The Hufflepuff boy, and—" His lips curled up in false pleasantry as he laid eyes on Abeo. "Fulami."

"Asher."

"Well, I hate to ruin your time together, but Beautiful, we have so many details to plan. I think I'll need to put you on guest list too, because that foreigner Karlin keeps telling me how much he hates every single person I request on the list—"

"Aren't you a foreigner?" Abeo muttered.

Tristan ignored him. "We can raid the kitchen on the way, if you're hungry."

Lonnie stared down at her barely-touched plate of potato and peas. "Okay." Then she faced her friends and smiled. "That's okay, right? I'll see you all later?"

Felicity and Cooper nodded, ever too nice to say anything. Abeo didn't bother disguising his displeasure, but Lonnie wouldn't do squat about it since she knew that was one of his perpetual moods. Teagan, meanwhile, smiled brightly – an act that would fool anyone who wasn't her best friend, but not Abeo. He knew her well enough to know that the unintentional slight hurt. Lonnie grabbed her stuff from beneath the table and was out the door with Tristan and the two Gryffindors before they could all say another word.

"Did…" Teagan hesitated, staring blank-faced at her plate, "did we do something wrong?"

"No," said Abeo at once. Then he stood. "No, it's not us. It's not even Lonnie. It's that damn bastard Tristan."

Maybe he didn't know the true reasoning behind the wand, but if he could get this one-up on him right now, maybe he'd feel better about everything.

Taking his bag, he said, "I'll be back."

"Where are you going?" asked Cooper.

"To find Tristan and do my job."

He slung it over his shoulder and hurried out of the Great Hall. Tristan and Lonnie hadn't gone far – abandoned by the Gryffindor girls, it was just the two of them that headed down the stairs towards the kitchens, chatting animatedly. To his despair he noticed that Lonnie's face had entirely lit up, truly engaged with whatever they were talking about. As if there was anything engaging about Tristan at all.

"Hey!" he called after them.

Both looked surprised when he skidded to halt in front of them, Tristan with an edge.

"Hey, Abeo," Lonnie said, "what are you—?"

Abeo grabbed Tristan arm. "I need to talk to you."

Tristan made noises to protest, but his strength wasn't anything compared to Abeo's when he pulled him away, both taller and wider than the celebrity. Tristan shrugged off his arm when they came to a hallway of paintings, who were watching the exchange with nosy curiosity.

"You can't just— just manhandle me," said Tristan, somewhat red in the face. "What could you possibly want—"

"Your wand," Abeo said, not bothering to wait on it. "I'm here to confiscate it."

"My—? Ugh, not you too," he groaned. "For god's sake, my wand is fine."

"I got word that it's dangerous."

"Many people would conjure falsities about me to slander my and my family name, obviously," he snorted, attempting to neaten his collar and shirt. "I have so many antis."

Antis? Ugh. "I'm not asking as an anti, I'm ordering as your prefect."

Tristan turned his body away. "What do you expect me to do in class without a wand? Twiddle my thumbs?"

"There's a Hogsmeade trip in a few weeks. You can buy one then."

Tristan visibly recoiled. "Ew, no, no, I do not want any of your peasant— er, ahem, locally-sourced wands, thank you." But at Abeo's glare, he relented. "Listen, I can carry an amazing tune, but I need a wand."

Does he really, though? Abeo massaged his forehead. "Either you hand me that thing over, or I escalate the situation."

Genuine fear rippled in his eyes. "Did she really snitch—? Ahem, I mean—" He composed himself, standing upright and giving Abeo his best impression of a serious individual. "Fine. If you insist on being a snake, I will agree to hand over my wand, on the condition," he said quickly, as Abeo retracted his hand, "that I be allowed to keep it until I get a new one. I can have my wandmaker over in a few days."

Times like these that Abeo wished Rose had given him more details. Just how bad was Tristan's wand, exactly? Seeing no other option, he flicked out his hand.

"Fine, but I swear, if it comes to bite me in the arse—"

"It won't," said Tristan, gathering himself once more before he sped down the corridor and called, "I'm practically angelic!"

Unsurprisingly, Abeo didn't believe him.

A/N: Hello everyone! I have to say, this was one of my favourite chapters so far, if only for Abeo's general grumpiness, hahah. Hope you enjoyed it too!

So we are (finally) introduced to the elusive S-twin, Sorrel Covington, submitted by the wonderful LunaRose2468! What's up with his attitude? Why does he hate Abeo (and everyone) so much? We're also introduced briefly to a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Matthias Oliviera, submitted by the lovely Wondy-SW! Both characters have important parts to play... but in what way? Guess we'll have to wait and find out...

If you love-hate Karlin as much as I do, you should check out comosayllama's Zolotov Cocktail! It's a neat AU with Karlin in the role of foreign liaison for Koldovstoretz school, welcoming in a familiar face...

Thanks for reading! As always, leave a review.

~ GWA

NTT: "Sometimes I even put on a French accent!"