IV. From the Torture Wagon to the Prefects' Carriage

It was only a few hours later when Saegon shook Sirona awake, and though she groaned and complained about having not gotten a good night's sleep, she pulled herself from the warmth of the covers and got dressed for the day. She clambered out of the tent with her bag and watched as Saegon packed the tent up with magic. Behind her, Mr. Weasley was doing the same thing with his own tents, the Weasley children looking just as tired and disgruntled as Sirona was feeling. She waved goodbye to the Weasley twins as she and Saegon made their way to the woods; Fred waved back, but George, who had been yawning, had not seen her. Once in the cover of the trees, Sirona reluctantly took Saegon's outstretched hand, and they Disapparated.

With a pop, they landed just outside the Bordeaux house, and Sirona stumbled forward, clutching her stomach — luckily, this time she had not vomited. Before she knew what was happening, someone was pulling her and Saegon both into a crushing embrace, squishing them together with a dramatic cry of "Mes bébés!"

Saegon pulled away from their mother, having to use quite some force to do so as the woman was much stronger than she appeared. Sirona ducked out from under her arms as Saegon loosened the grip their mother had on them.

"Are you 'urting?" Cybele asked, placing her hands on either side of Sirona's face, squishing her daughter's cheeks as she gently ran a thumb over the small cut. "What 'appened?" she demanded, turning to Saegon for answers. "The paper said that there were bodies being carried out of the woods!"

"There were no bodies being carried out of the woods, Mum. Honestly, you can't believe everything you read," he said, making his way towards the house, where Cissonia, Damara and Damona were waiting and watching curiously from the porch. As he approached, the twins ran to him, hugging him tightly around the middle; Damara was talking with great speed, but whatever she was saying was muffled because she had her face buried in his side.

"We're all right," Saegon assured them, patting them on their heads before looking up at Cissonia, who was leaned against the door of the house, failing to present an indifferent facial expression. He sighed. Walking forward — with great difficulty, as the twins had yet to let go of him — he grabbed Cissonia and pulled her into a hug as well. Her resolve seemed to crumble instantly, and her arms flew around his neck as she buried her head into his shoulder. Sirona walked up to the porch as well and put her hands on her hips.

"Right, well, I see how it is. I'm fine too, if anyone cares," she joked, causing the twins to finally release Saegon and rush to her instead. Cissonia let go of Saegon as well, blinking furiously as though trying to hide the fact that tears were stinging her now red eyes.

"Well, the Dark Mark was showing in the sky!" Ms. Bordeaux continued as they all finally walked into the house. "They 'ad a picture of it!"

As if to prove her point, she grabbed a copy of the Daily Prophet off the back of the couch and shook it at Saegon. Sirona could just barely make out the headline: SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP. Saegon snatched the paper from their mother's hand and threw it back onto the couch.

"Oh, c'mon, Mum. It doesn't mean anything," he tried assuring her. "Loads of people were drinking last night, and it's no secret that the Ministry never rounded up all of You-Know-Who's followers. No one was killed, and from what I heard and saw, most of the perpetrators Disapparated when the Mark was cast. It was just a sick and twisted group of individuals with too much liquid courage."

Zacharus waddled on his chubby legs from around the couch towards Saegon with outstretched arms. Saegon's eyes gleamed as he picked the toddler up.

"Hi, buddy! You've gotten so big!"

"You are acting as though nothing 'appened!" Ms. Bordeaux exclaimed. Saegon sighed.

"I'm not," he said in an exasperated way. "It was frightening, for sure, but the Ministry's investigating it now. The only things I know for certain are that no one was killed and that Sirona and I are safe, and that's what matters most to me right now."

Ms. Bordeaux opened her mouth as though to say something else, but Saegon stopped her.

"Mum, I'm very tired, and I'm sure the Ministry will be calling me into the office today at some point. Please, don't make me have this conversation right now."

At this, their mother seemed to concede, but her live-in boyfriend, Augustus Macmillan, took the moment to speak up.

"Oi, your mum's only worried about you. It's her right to ask some questions, wouldn't you say?"

Every single one of the Bordeaux children — save for Zacharus, who was currently pinching at Saegon's nose — shot the man a contemptuous look that quite plainly told him to butt out of the conversation. None of the children were overly fond of their little brother's father. Sirona tolerated him best because he seemed to make their mother happy; he was a loving father to Zacharus, and she knew she had no real reason to dislike the fellow; though, on occasions, he would try and depart wisdom or hand down punishment to her sisters, and Sirona didn't feel that that was his place. Cissonia disliked him the most, and she never bothered to hide that fact; she struggled with feeling like their mother had replaced her father, so she treated the man very similarly to how Saegon had treated her own father. Damara and Damona felt the same as Cissonia, but on a more superficial level; they mostly disliked him because they knew Cissonia did. Saegon, who still harboured some ill-will towards their mother for his and Sirona's father leaving them (even if he wouldn't admit to it), could not stand the man.

"I'm well aware of her rights as my mum, thank you very much, Gus," Saegon bit back sharply, and Cissonia rolled her eyes at the man as though silently backing Saegon. Logically, Sirona knew that the constant undermining of Gus' authority in the house was probably not a good thing considering that he was Zacharus' father. Most of the time, she tried to play peacekeeper between him and her siblings, insisting that he wasn't too bad, but he did have a knack for speaking up when it was best he just kept quiet. She just felt that between their mum, Saegon, and herself there were already enough hands in the pot to hold order in the Bordeaux house, and they didn't quite need his help in that area.

Gus gave a pointed look at Cybele as though expecting her to scold Saegon for his attitude, but she only shrugged as if asking what he wanted her to do about it. Admittedly, she had never been the principal disciplinary of the family; she worked long hours during the week trying to make ends meet for her family, so the day-to-day things like discipline and general caregiving had, for the most part, fallen on the shoulders of Saegon and Sirona over the years. Gus shook his head, opting instead to just leave the room. Sirona did feel slightly bad for the man; he was always outnumbered, and she was certain that they all seemed to him like a tight-knit group or private club that he would never completely be a part of, and perhaps he was right. The Bordeaux children and their mother were a force all their own.

"Well, at least let me fix you up," their mother said, now looking at the injury on the side of Saegon's head. Saegon handed Zacharus off to Sirona before following their mother into the kitchen, where she kept all her remedies and potions. Sirona sniffed at the air before looking at Zacharus and sighing.

"Why is it that I'm always the one left to change your nappy?"

Zacharus only giggled and grabbed at Sirona's hair.

"'Your mum's only worried about you,'" Cissonia repeated in a mocking tone. "Who does he think he is?"

"Cissonia, be nice to Gus," Sirona told her sister, even though she slightly agreed with her. Cissonia flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder and crossed her arms over her chest.

"You be nice to Gus," she said before turning on her heel and making her way to the stairs. Damara giggled, and Sirona shot her a stern look. Damara silenced herself at once — though, she still had a cheeky grin plastered on her face — and she ran up the stairs, bypassing Cissonia on her way up; Damona followed her twin at a much calmer pace. Sirona sighed, shifted Zacharus on her hip, and followed her sisters up the stairs.

In the week that followed, Sirona did not see or hear from Saegon until the first day of September. While he was supposed to be on holiday, the Ministry had been busier than ever, and Rita Skeeter's articles in the Daily Prophet were not helping ease the tensions of the public, quite the opposite actually. So, Saegon had gone back to his flat in London and spent the majority of his time trying to help his department sort out an array of messes.

Sirona was trying to help Cissonia close the old, tattered suitcase on her bed when she heard her mother calling them from the ground level of the house, telling them that it was time to go. As Cissonia laid on top of the suitcase, pressing herself into it, Sirona managed to get the latches all secured.

"What all do you have in there?" she asked incredulously, grabbing her own suitcase and Nimbus, throwing the latter over her shoulder. Cissonia rolled her eyes as she pulled her suitcase from the bed.

"Just because you're some sort of minimalist or whatever doesn't mean that I have to be," the younger girl quipped; Sirona scoffed.

"I'm not a minimalist. I just don't think you have to lug every belonging you own to school with you every year," she argued as she followed her sister down the stairs. She stopped on the first landing, peering through the twins' open bedroom door. "It's time to go, you two. Get a move on."

"Mara can't find her wand," Damona said from the floor of the room as she peered down to look under her bed.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Sirona said, putting her things down and stepping into the room, glancing over to Damara, who was digging in her open suitcase frantically.

"I just saw it not five minutes ago!" Damara said, crumpling up her school robes as she pushed them to the side.

"Perhaps Mona packed it by accident?" Sirona offered, but Damona shook her head.

"Already checked my suitcase."

The twins' room was the Bordeaux House Anomaly; it was where things came to never be found again. Despite their differing personalities, Damara and Damona both loathed cleaning. One might expect this from Damara with her chaotic energy, but Damona, while vastly intelligent and seemingly put together, was just as disorganized and messy. Sirona kicked a stray shoe out of her way as she walked across the room, picking up books and T-shirts and discarded paper as she went.

"I swear, when we get back home, the first thing we're doing is cleaning this room. I wouldn't be surprised if you found Doxies running about in here," she said throwing the papers in the bin, laying the book on a dresser and throwing the shirts into a chair that already had a pile of clothes in it — whether they were clean or not she did not know. At the bottom of the pile, she noticed a richly coloured wooden tip, and she reached down and pulled Damara's redwood wand out from under the pile. She threw the wand into Damara's open suitcase. "There you are. Now, let's go or we'll be late."

Sirona left the room and grabbed her things up before continuing her descent. She passed by Saegon's old room on the next landing, which was now doubling as Zacharus' nursery. So, on one side of the room, there were bright colours with toys, a crib and a changing station; while on the other side, there was an abundance of darker colours and posters plastered on the walls of the Tutshill Tornados and half-clothed women — Sirona often found herself crashing on Saegon's old bed if Zacharus happened to be ill or if Cissonia was being extra bratty.

Down on the next landing was her mother and Gus' room. The door was closed, and Sirona figured that Gus was still sleeping since he didn't have to work that day.

When she made it to the ground floor, she was only mildly surprised to see Saegon in the den, struggling to put shoes on Zacharus, who was kicking about and throwing a fabulous tantrum. Their mother was going through Cissonia's school checklist with her.

"Is the car ready?" Sirona asked, and their mother patted her pockets, spinning around in a little circle as she looked for the keys. When they had still been living with Mr. Cromwell, their mother had taken it upon herself to get a Muggle driver's licence. Subsequently, she had gone out and bought the most horrid looking multi-purpose vehicle that Sirona had ever laid eyes on: a 1984 Renault Espace that currently resided under the giant oak tree in the yard.

As their mother searched for the keys, Saegon finished with Zacharus' shoes. He picked the boy up and gave him to Sirona in exchange for her broom and suitcase.

"You can strap him in that Muggle contraption," Saegon said. Sirona looked as though she were about to protest, so he added, "I had to wrestle all his clothes on him."

Even as Saegon said this, Zacharus was trying to reach down and pull off one of his shoes. Sirona shifted him on her hip, making sure that he couldn't reach down to pull the tiny trainers off his feet. The twins finally made their way down the stairs, their faces lighting up upon seeing their older brother. He smiled at this.

"What? You thought I was going to miss seeing my baby sisters off for their first year at Hogwarts? I'm offended!" he teased.

"Found them!" came their mother's voice from somewhere in the kitchen, and they all finally made their way outside, lugging their things to the old van in the rain.

Discourteously named by the Bordeaux children "The Torture Wagon," their mother had bought the van used back in the summer of 1988. The red paint was peeling off the bonnet, which no one bothered to fix because it was hardly worth the effort. The first few times the van had presented issues, their mother had stubbornly insisted on taking it to a Muggle mechanic for frivolous reasons no one even tried to comprehend. After Mr. Cromwell died, however, Saegon had finally convinced her to let him fix a busted taillight with magic. The car still had its issues, though; typically, minor repairs that couldn't be magicked away with a simple "Reparo" went untouched because it was far too much trouble. Reparo Charms were used if something broke or was torn, but they did not work well for things that had been worn down over time; those spells were much more complex, and they involved at least a general understanding of how the thing was supposed to work in the first place. At one point, Saegon had spent two days straight working on the coolant system because it had started corroding from rust. The only major modification they had made to it was a simple Expansion Charm in the back so that they could fit all of their luggage comfortably in the vehicle with them.

Sirona pried Zacharus off her and tried to place him into the old car seat that they had had to reinforce with magic because none of them were quite sure if they had installed the thing correctly, which was probably for the best since it was a rather old car seat — Sirona didn't know about Muggle safety regulations regarding these contraptions, but she wouldn't have been surprised if it wasn't up to code. The toddler kicked and screamed as Sirona and Cissonia tried to strap him in the seat. He disliked car rides, and none of the other Bordeaux children blamed him in the slightest.

"It would be nice if Gus was helping!" Cissonia said disdainfully.

"Gus 'ad a very bad day at work yesterday, so I let 'im sleep in today; 'e is 'aving the day off," their mother said, causing Saegon, Sirona and Cissonia to give almost identical eye rolls.

"Here you go, Zach," Damona said, offering the small boy a bit of chocolate that she'd broken off a candy bar she'd been eating.

"Oh, don't give him that, Damona. He'll have it all over him," Saegon complained, but Sirona whipped around on him.

"Well, then, you put him in his seat if you've got a better way."

Saegon muttered something under his breath, but he left them to go climb in the front passenger seat as they finally fastened all of the safety belts around their little brother, who was now happily making a mess of his face with the chocolate. Cissonia fell back into her seat with a sigh as the twins climbed into the seats farther back. Sirona sat on the other side of Zacharus, behind Saegon, who was already holding onto the grab bar even though the car wasn't even running.

The only person in the Bordeaux family who liked riding in a car was Cybele, and that was because she got to be in control of it. However, she wasn't a very good driver — Saegon would have bet all of his savings that she'd used a Confundus Charm on her test examiner — and her children absolutely hated the entire experience. Not even Damara argued when told to put her safety belt on; though, she would occasionally whisper something along the lines of, "Not sure how this flimsy thing is supposed to save us if Mum drives us off a bridge." It was for this very reason that Sirona had made her sisters all take a Calming Draught earlier that morning; she'd even taken some herself.

When their mum turned the key over in the ignition, the van let out an awful sounding screech, refusing at first to crank, but after two more tries, the engine roared to life, sputtering and clanking as it did. Saegon inhaled deeply though his nose, pressing himself into his seat as he closed his eyes. Sirona would have laughed at him if she weren't also dreading the drive to London; the fact that it was raining just made it even more frightening. Their mother didn't seem to notice the sombre mood as she clapped her hands together excitedly, not bothering to strap her safety belt on as she put the van in drive.

The trip to King's Cross Railway Station was horrible from start to finish. Right away, their mother had forgotten how to turn on the windscreen wipers, but she had refused to stop the car to try and figure it out, pressing buttons and flipping switches all while she swerved on the road. At one point during this fiasco, Damara had started saying Hail Marys in the back of the car; Sirona had supposed it was for comedic purposes since none of them had been raised to be very religious, but she wasn't so sure. Later, their mother had insisted on turning on the radio and had nearly ran them off the road trying to find a station. They had all arrived at the railway station feeling slightly nauseous and thankful that they had gotten there in one piece. They had all jumped out of the vehicle with great haste, and the twins made a show of hugging each other dramatically, rejoicing that they wouldn't be attending Hogwarts as ghosts.

"You are all 'orrible children. I am a good driver," their mother insisted as she grabbed a sleeping Zacharus from his car seat.

Soaked from the rain, the Bordeauxes made their way into the station, where they took turns crossing through the barrier to Platform 9¾. Cissonia took the twins through first, followed by their mother, who was still holding Zacharus, and then, Sirona and Saegon passed through just a moment later. The thick, billowing steam from the Hogwarts Express filled the platform in a mist, and Sirona saw the Weasleys emerge from it as she and her siblings walked closer to the train. Sirona helped her sisters lug their suitcases onto the train and find a compartment. Afterwards, they all stepped back onto the platform to say their goodbyes to their mother and brothers.

"I'll see you at Christmas," Sirona said to Saegon as she pulled out of their embrace, and he gave a small grin.

"I don't know. You lot might want to stay at school this year."

Sirona quirked an eyebrow.

"What aren't you telling me?"

Saegon only grinned wider, and Sirona frowned. The train whistle blew, and Sirona was forced to usher her sisters back onto the train, waving goodbye to the rest of her family from the window as the train started to move from the station. She ushered her sisters back to their compartments and got changed into her robes, pinning her prefect badge on haphazardly.

"All right, I'm headed to the prefects' carriage, and then, I have to do a bit of patrolling. I should be gone around an hour," Sirona said to the twins.

"Can I go find my friends now?" Cissonia asked impatiently; Sirona sighed.

"If you must, but don't you want to keep the twins company on their first train to Hogwarts?"

"I've only seen them every day all summer!" Cissonia complained.

"Oh, let her go," Damona said, waving a hand dismissively.

"Yeah, we'll keep ourselves busy," Damara assured, giving Sirona an uneasy feeling.

"Damara, behave. Damona, make sure Damara behaves," she instructed as Cissonia took her leave from the compartment.

"No promises," they said in unison as Sirona left the compartment as well.

When she made her way into the prefects' carriage, she was already rolling her eyes at the Head Girl, Michelle Connelly, who was standing importantly at the head of the carriage, chest stuck out to bring attention to her shiny badge. Sirona looked down at her own, dull-looking prefect badge and wondered how long the girl had polished her Head Girl badge to get it to gleam like that; from what she remembered of the Slytherin girl, Connelly seemed to be the type to do such a thing. Sirona walked over to Roger Davies, the male prefect from her year and house, as well as her Quidditch captain, fellow Chaser and good friend. She fell into the empty seat beside him. He seemed about just as excited about his prefect duties as Sirona was about hers.

"Remind me again how it was that you and I were the ones that got roped into being prefects last year?" Roger asked, foregoing a greeting altogether. She shrugged.

"Your guess is as good as mine," she said. "It's not like we're outstanding students or anything. Though, I suppose if you look at the other options from our year, we were the least bad choice."

"You reckon ole Rowena would think our year is a disappointment to Ravenclaw House?" he asked, picking a fuzz off his shoulder, rolling it into a tiny ball and flicking it as far as it would go, aiming for one of the fifth year Slytherin prefects, but it fell short.

"We have Caroline, so most definitely, yes, she would," Sirona quipped, causing Roger to smile.

"Did you see her over the summer?"

"I was too busy taking care of Zacharus to do much of anything else. Though, I did get to go to the World Cup."

"That is so unfair," Roger said. "I would've killed for that."

Sirona quirked a brow at him. Clearly his mind had a hard time focusing when Quidditch was involved.

"Well, it wasn't all fun and games. Honestly, do you read any other portion of the Prophet besides the Quidditch section?" she teased as the Head Students started their introductions. His face blanched at her words.

"Oh, right, sorry," he said, ears turning a slight pink out of embarrassment at having forgotten such a monumental thing that had happened only in the past week. "So — did you really see the Dark Mark — in the sky?"

Sirona nodded gravely, and his eyes widened slightly.

"What did it look it?" he whispered.

"Like the Dark Mark in the sky, Rodge," Sirona whispered back in a sarcastic, mocking tone. Roger rolled his eyes and lightly punched her on the arm.

"You're the worst, you know that?"

"Excuse me, you two in the back," came the voice of Connelly, and Sirona couldn't tell if she was annoyed at having to call them out in front of everyone or elated by it. "Mr. Davies, Miss Solan, is there something—"

"Actually — sorry — it's Bordeaux," Sirona said, holding up her hand to interrupt the girl.

"What?" Connelly said, obviously not confused, just shocked that she'd been interrupted.

"She goes by Bordeaux, not Solan," Roger repeated, a little louder seemingly to make sure the older girl heard it this time, but really only doing it to take the mickey. Sirona had to bite back a chuckle.

"It's a common mistake. Continue," she said, motioning for Connelly to resume lecturing them. Connelly blinked in surprise.

"Right — well, as I was saying: Is there something that you find more important than listening to the instructions we're giving you right now?"

Sirona refrained from rolling her eyes, but Roger spoke up.

"Well, yeah, I mean, what do we need instructions for? How to give a detention?" he asked rhetorically — causing Sirona to really reflect on how none of their classmates had been better suited for the job of prefect than she or Roger. "And, honestly, term hasn't technically started yet. Does anyone even take patrolling the train that seriously? You'd have to be real stuck up your own arse, don't you think?"

Suddenly, all eyes were on them, and Sirona kicked Roger to get him to shut up because she could tell that some of them did in fact take it very seriously.

"You trying to get us jumped, Rodge?" she whispered through gritted teeth, not looking at him or moving her lips. He held up his hands in surrender. Sirona let out an awkward laugh.

"I think what he means is that we've already heard all this stuff last year," she said, trying to smooth everything over. The Head Boy, a Hufflepuff by the name of Nicholas Langley who looked just as bored by all of this as she and Roger were, spoke up.

"Yeah, well, you've gotta suffer through it like the rest of us, so just be quiet, would ya?"

"Will do," Sirona said as Roger gave a tiny, dramatic salute.

The two chanced glances at each other once the Head Students started talking again, and they had to hold back their laughter.

"Reckon we'll go down in Hogwarts history as the worst Ravenclaws and prefects there ever were?" Roger whispered, and Sirona nodded, feeling that was a fit title for the pair of them.

Once they were dismissed, and once Sirona had gone to check on the twins — nothing was on fire and no one was bleeding, so that was a win in her book — she joined Roger and their other friend, Caroline Becker, in a compartment all their own.

Sirona and Caroline had become friends during their first year at school after having both been Sorted into Ravenclaw. Once Sirona and Roger had both joined the Quidditch team during their second year, all three became fast friends with one another.

"Have a good summer, Care?" Sirona asked as she sat across from the curly-haired girl. Caroline sighed dramatically as she watched the rain splatter against the window.

"It would have been better had you bothered to come 'round," she said, trying and failing to sound serious about it as a smirk broke out onto her face. "Dad was a bit put off by my History and Astronomy O.W.L.s, but other than that, it was fine. Besides, what do I need to know about Goblin Uprisings and constellations for anyhow? We all know I'm going to be modelling for Witch Weekly one day," she teased, striking dramatic poses as Roger pretended to take snapshots with a make-believe camera, causing Sirona to laugh.

"Roger tells me you went to the World Cup," Caroline said on a more serious note once the laughter died down. "What happened there?"

So, for the next fifteen or so minutes, Sirona went into detail about everything that had happened at the Quidditch World Cup. Well — almost everything. She conveniently left out the part where both she and her brother had seemingly lost some time; that wasn't something Sirona typically shared with anyone other than Saegon.

After both Caroline and Roger seemed satisfied with Sirona's explanations, they all went on to theorise about what big event was going to be taking place at the school that year, as they had all had to go out and buy dress robes. Surely, Dumbledore wouldn't have made them do that for nothing? Or at least, that was Caroline's thoughts on it. Personally, Sirona figured that whatever it was wouldn't be something she'd want to partake in anyways.