Best Laid Plans
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or Pride and Prejudice. All recognisable characters, content, or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.
Part One: The Defence Association
Chapter Seventeen:
William awaits her in the (magically expanded) prefect's compartment. He's changed into his uniform, his badge for Ravenclaw Prefect pinned to the lapel of his blazer. He looks far more put together than he had at St Mungo's, crisp and clean and entirely too handsome, and Helena can almost believe that there is nothing at all wrong in the auburn-haired boy's life.
Helena knows better, of course.
"You're both prompt, I see, And properly dressed, as well," Charlotte observes. "No wonder Professor Flitwick chose you two."
William stares out of the window, his hands clasped behind his back, silent in his study of the scenery passing them by.
Helena exhales, offers the Head Girl an awkward smile, shrugs minutely. "THere's nothing charming about tardiness."
Aunt Cassiopeia's words are familiar on her tongue, an ironic refrain Helena's repeated often over the years. William recognises them - she can see him smile through his reflection in the glass - and despite herself, Helena can't help but feel she's accomplished something.
Evidently, Grimmauld Place has completely addled her senses.
"Right," Charlotte nods - in acknowledgement or agreement, Helena's not sure - and rummages through the stacks of parchment in front of her. In the doorway, Helena can't tell if it's homework or part of her responsibilities as Head Girl, but either way, Helena doesn't envy her. "Do you two know what you're supposed to be doing? The last patrol's a bit different to the others."
"Make sure everyone's in their uniforms, I suppose," Helena replies. By the window, William is still doing his best impression of a statue.
"That," Charlotte confirms, "But you also have to make sure there are no stragglers on the train when everyone's disembarked. You'll board the last carriage, but not before you've confirmed everyone is on their way up to the castle."
Helena nods, unconcerned. It sounds easy enough. "Is there anything else?"
"Just the usual," Charlotte replies with a dismissive shrug, "Maintain order, break up fights, reprimand bullies, so on and so on. Any questions?"
Helena shakes her head. William does too, once, before Charlotte moves on. She reminds them of their patrol route, reminds them of what authority they wield, and of the expectations they bear as Hogwarts' prefects, and then sends them on their way with a cheery wave.
"How have you been?" Helena asks, hesitant. They're on their way to their assigned patrol route - generally occupied by Slytherin lower years - and the silence between them feels oppressive.
William casts her a sideways glance. "As well as can be expected, I suppose. And yourself?"
"Oh, I can't complain," Helena replies with a dismissive wave of her hand, "Same old, really."
"And what of your family?"
"They're well," Helena replies, "Leo starts Hogwarts this year."
William blinks, nonplused. "Really? Last time I saw him, he must have been - what - six? Seven? Gods!"
"Something like that," Helena confirms, shrugs, smiles ruefully. "Time flies, I guess."
"Seems like it."
"How's your mum?"
William shrugs, frowns, averts his gaze. "She's as well as she can be. Healer Preston says she's hit a plateau. She's not going to get better, but for now, she's not getting worse."
"I'm sorry."
"It is what it is. How are your parents? I understand they were moved into in-home care?"
Helena takes the diversion in stride. He obviously doesn't want to discuss it, though she can't honestly fault him for that. It's a difficult situation, tied up in all the mess of emotions and family and all of the prolonged agony of a longterm, inevitably fatal illness, and Fitzwilliam Darcy has always been the type to keep things close to his vest besides. She feels bad for prying, actually, but there's comfort in the knowledge that he'd not rebuffed her concern.
"They were. The new location agrees with them, I think. They spend a lot of time outside."
"I'm glad they're doing well," he says, tone earnest.
"Me too."
After negotiating the lunch trolley, clusters of students in the narrow hallways, and a few of their fellow (patrolling) prefects, they finally reach their designated section of the train. The compartment doors are all closed, the privacy blinds drawn shut, and the corridor is nearly deserted.
"A quiet patrol, do you think?"
Helena contemplates the door at the end of the corridor. It leads to the next carriage, and they're expected to patrol it, as well. It's the last carriage, where Neville and his friends usually situate themselves, and Helena expects if there's any trouble, Neville will be involved in some way, shape, or form. All the same… "I hope so."
"Do you want to split up?"
"No. Strength in numbers, right?"
William arches an eyebrow. "Do you think we'll have to fend off a horde of infarie?"
"That would probably be easier," Helena mutters. She's only sort of joking.
"It will be fine," Fitzwilliam assures her. He's trying not to smile, or laugh, or both, and Helena pulls a face. "What's the worst that could happen?"
Helena considers the chaos Fred and George Weasley are capable of, considers Neville's frankly prodigious ability to draw trouble to him like a magnet, considers all of the ways a train full of unsupervised, wand-wielding school students can create mischief, and not for the first time, wonders if it's too late to change her mind about this whole prefect business.
"I guess we'll find out."
Despite his best efforts, William smiles. "I guess we will."
-!- -#-
Before Neville can draw them into his own brand of chaos, trouble finds William and Helena in the form of George Wickham. He's a Slytherin in the year below them, his place at Hogwarts sponsored by William's father, and Helena can't say she's overly surprised.
George Wickham has always been malicious, and his cruelty has only gotten worse with age. Helena doesn't actually expect to find him tormenting the lower years, per se, but then, if she had to make a list of those students from whom she'd expect such behaviour, the son of Pemberley's steward would be on the top of it.
William swears under his breath, displeased. There is anger in his expression, resentment and dislike and scorn, and in another instant, he is striding towards the tableau, Helena only one step behind him.
It's Leo he's targeted, after all, and Helena's not about to let that particularly poor life choice slide.
While William disarms Wickham, Helena sets about undoing (and documenting) the hexes the Fourth Year has used upon her brother. SHe's seething, and Leo is trying not to cry, and retaliation is tempting.
"I knew you were a despicable human being, Wickham, but this is beyond the pale."
"Loosen up, Darcy, I was just messing around," Wickham answers. William has disarmed him, but the Slytherin is entirely unconcerned, "No harm, no foul, right? That's the rule, isn't it?"
As children, it's the excuse Mr Darcy would claim whenever Helena, William, or Neville were hurt at George Wickham's hands, and her response to it - incandescent fury - is visceral.
Helena wants to wipe the stupid smirk off his stupid face. Violently.
She refrains. Wickham is goading both of them, but they're both familiar with his games, and they know better than to rise to his bait. It will only lead to trouble for them, and neither Helena nor Fitzwilliam need that.
"Your wand will be confiscated until we reach Hogwarts. You can collect it from Professor Snape after the Sorting Feast. Helena and I will report this to the Deputy Headmistress, and your punishment will be decided by her. Your sponsor will also be informed. Now, get out of my sight."
Wickham offers them a mocking salute - to match the mocking smirk on his mocking face - and meanders back to his compartment as though he has all the time in the world.
Excepting the Death Eaters who destroyed her family, Helena's fairly certain she's never loathed someone so much in her life. His audacity is unbelievable, Mr Darcy's fondness for the Slytherin more so.
William paces in a circle, agitated and tense. His face is flushed with his temper, and without warning, he declares, "I hate him."
Helena glances at him, unsurprised, and returns her attention to Leo. "You and me both."
Helena has no idea how William endures George Wickham's outrageous sense of entitlement, only worse with age, but she can't imagine it's easy.
As her fellow Ravenclaw fumes, she counters the last of the hexes on Leo, and taps her wand to the parchment on which she'd been documenting everything in the form of an incident report. It folds itself into an aeroplane, and another tap sends it on its way to Charlotte.
Leo slumps against her side, Helena sweeps her fingers through his dark hair, and regrets that her brother's introduction to Hogwarts has turned so very unpleasant. She'll have to let Sirius know.
Hopefully, Lord Blackthorn will have something to say to Mr Darcy regarding the man's charity case.
"Is he all right?"
Leo straightens up, and firms his resolve. His hands still shake. "I'm fine."
Helena doesn't believe him, but she doesn't challenge him, either. She and William walk with him to his compartment though, and then return to their patrol once they're both assured that he's settled back in with his friends. She expects he'll not be found far from them for the remainder of their trip.
"Something needs to be done about him."
William offers her an unimpressed side eye. He's very much aware of the issue - lives with the reminder, in fact - and he doesn't need Helena to point out the obvious. It's probably been on his mind for years.
In response, Helena offers him a sheepish shrug. She hasn't thought about George Wickham for years. Her childhood tormenter's abrupt (and unwelcome) reappearance in her circle of awareness has left her as flatfooted as she is angry.
"I'm open to suggestions."
"Give me time. I'm sure between us, we'll think of something."
William is dubious, but all the same… "I hope so."
-!- -#-
Author's Note: An early chapter, just because. There will be another delay until the next. I'd like to build up my store of pre-written chapters, so…
Hope you've enjoyed. Thanks for reading. Until next time, -t.
