Disclaimer – JKR owns the world and all the characters from the books. I'm just building a few castles in her sandbox.

Chapter 8

Malcolm had never played a card game with built in sound effects before. Exploding Snap was aptly named, because the first time he had a combination detonate, he nearly leaped out of his seat. Since last spring, he'd been a little jumpy where explosions were concerned.

Once he got past that, though, the game wasn't that different from War, which he actually knew how to play. Most of the men in the protective detail were demons for card games, which was understandable for professional soldiers on assignment in countries where more… traditional… diversions were outlawed. Malcolm grinned a little to himself as he thought back to some of the stories they told between hands. If he kept quiet, people tended to forget he was there, and stopped watching what they said. He enjoyed those afternoons and evenings in their informal 'barracks' more than anything else. He swallowed as he remembered why he wasn't still there.

He was rescued from unpleasant memories by the train whistle blaring as they lurched into motion. The door popped open again and a boy with blue eyes, long shaggy brown hair and a sharp nose stuck his head in. "Got some room in 'ere?"

Malcolm looked up from his cards and nodded.

"C'mon, Trish, they got room," the boy said to someone in the passageway. He entered the compartment, hauling on a tall auburn-haired girl's hand. Both were already in their robes.

"Perren Hawkshorne, for the last time, stop calling me Trish!" the girl glowered down at the boy who was half a head shorter than her.

"Okay, Trish," the boy agreed cheekily.

She sighed, rolling her eyes and Malcolm chuckled.

The girl smiled down at him and Tobey, sprawled on the floor playing cards. "I'm Patricia Fortescue," she said, extending her hand.

Malcolm shook it once. "I'm Malcolm, this is Tobey, and that," he hooked his thumb over at the blond girl watching them, "is Anna."

"My name," the girl snapped, "is Annalise Katarina Dolohov."

Patricia turned and inclined her head in a regal manner that mollified the blond girl somewhat, "I am pleased to make the acquaintance of a Dolohov, may your line thrive and prosper."

Annalise blinked. "May the Fortescue line thrive and prosper as well." She smiled faintly.

"So…" Perren said, drawing out the word. "How long have you and Malcolm been dating?"

Annalise's face went scarlet and she thrust her hand into her robes, groping for her wand. She was sputtering incoherently, but what fragments that were intelligible promised dire consequences. Perren took a step back toward the compartment door, and jumped at an explosion of sound coming from the floor.

Malcolm was howling with laughter, arms wrapped around his aching middle. He was lying on his side on the compartment floor, cards scattered around him, face rapidly turning red from oxygen deprivation. Perren stared at him for a moment, and then yelped as a ray of purple light flew past the end of his nose. He dove for cover, stumbling over Tobey. They both hit the floor in a tangle of limbs,

"Annalise, please, there's no need to…" Patricia, hands raised in a placating gesture, stepped in front of the enraged blond girl. Looking up from the floor, Malcolm was sure the redhead was going to get hexed right in the face, but Annalise managed to rein in her temper at the last moment. She jammed her wand back into her robes. Her face still blotchy, she stalked toward the door.

Malcolm felt a stab of guilt. He lurched to his feet and managed to get between her and the door. She fixed him with a glare that was probably capable of melting lead. "Er, look, Annalise, I'm sorry. Perren didn't mean anything by what he said. I'm sure he was just trying to be funny, not mean. I didn't mean to laugh so hard, but it's been a long week for me, and I needed a good laugh. I'd even settle for his lame sense of humor. No one here was trying to be offensive, right guys?"

There were various sounds of assent coming from the compartment, though Perren's seemed to be somewhat under duress, as Patricia was standing right behind him.

Annalise frowned at him in confusion. Malcolm shrugged. "Everyone has unpleasant personal habits. Some people snore, some people tell really awful jokes. I'm sure Perren can't help it, any more than if he had chronic flatulence," at this Tobey snorted and turned red. Perren just glared at him but Patricia had hold of his ear now. "It's just that poor boy's personal cross to bear," Malcolm concluded with a dramatic sigh. The blonde looked at him for a long moment, and then sighed herself. Shaking her head, she went back to her seat, staring at the countryside whizzing past them.

Sitting back down, Malcolm looked at the new arrivals. "You want Tobey to deal you in? We seem to have finished our hand." He looked down ruefully at the scattered cards on the floor.

Perren looked over at Patricia. "Sure, my chess set is in my trunk, Merlin knows where that is now. I think it got stuck onto the prefect's car."

The tall girl nodded as well. Malcolm frowned, trying to remember where he'd heard her name before. "Is something the matter?" she asked in an amused tone.

"Nothing really," Malcolm waved airily. "I just feel like I should know your name from somewhere."

She chuckled, a low and throaty sound that seemed a lot older than her years. Malcolm noticed Perren's face get a little pink. "You're probably thinking about my Uncle Florean's ice cream parlor on Diagon Alley."

Malcolm snapped his fingers. "Yeah, that was it. I'll have to try it some time." As soon as he said that, he realized he'd made a mistake, as everyone but Annalise stared at him.

"You've never been there?" Tobey asked. "Merlin, your folks must be awful if they've never let you." Malcolm didn't miss the glare Patricia shot at the boy.

Malcolm shrugged "We've been out of the country, I've only been to Diagon Alley once since we returned to England." It was technically true. He also noticed Annalise looking at him curiously now. Though her English was flawless, he was pretty sure he'd heard a Russian accent when she was cursing at Perren. With a name like Dolohov, she might actually spend a lot of time in Eastern Europe or Russia. He filed that thought away for future examination, though he wasn't sure why he was so concerned.

At least his explanation seemed to have satisfied his companions. The conversation moved on to other topics. The chief one regarded what would happen when they arrived at Hogwarts. Tobey, Patricia, and Perren's parents had all attended Hogwarts, while Annalise said her parents had gone to a school in Northern Europe call Durmstrang. Perren's cousin had graduated two years ago. He mentioned that all of the new students went through some sort of test that sorted them into different houses within the school. His cousin, however, refused to divulge any details.

"I don't think he was doing it just to be shirty, either," the boy scowled, waving his hands, "though I wouldn't put it past the prat."

"My uncle said something once about 'a bloody hat'," Tobey said quietly. The boy glowered down at a deck of cards he was shuffling, but Malcolm could feel the tension radiating from him.

"Well," he said, trying to change the subject, "we'll just deal with it when we get there. Maybe we'll all end up in the same house. I dare say I could do a lot worse than get stuck with you lot." He smiled as he said it, but he knew it to be true. He hadn't had many opportunities in his life to hang around with people his own age, let alone people he had anything in common with. When he met other diplomats' kids at embassy functions, they usually didn't speak the same language, and the few that did were often hostile or utterly spoiled. He was going to be spending the next seven years going to school with these people. That alone was more of a bond than he'd had with anyone since…

He abruptly terminated that line of thought and shrugged at his fellow travelers. Tobey cleared his throat and started dealing another hand. When Malcolm looked up from the absolutely awful hand he'd been dealt, he noticed Annalise studying him out of the corner of her eye. She's sharper than she lets on, he realized, I better watch what I say around her. He grimaced as he made his first play.

The idle chatter continued as they played several more hands. Malcolm was careful to not volunteer very much and just listened. Even asking the wrong questions could get him in trouble, he realized. It was a little sad, he thought, that he needed to stay on his guard even now, though he supposed it would be good practice for later.

He did, however, learn a few things about the other people. Tobey wouldn't say a thing about his family, but Patricia was quite open. Most of her family worked in some way that connected with her Uncle Florean's shop. Her parents ran a dairy farm in Yorkshire with some 'very special cows'. Her cousins all worked as servers in the shop, or helped prepare ingredients. She herself had learned how to refresh freezing charms at a very young age, using her uncle's wand when he was busy with customers. Tobey asked how she got away with doing underage magic, but she just shrugged and said since she was using her uncle's wand, and he was a blood relation, they probably assumed it was him doing it.

Perren's parents, both Ravenclaw graduates of Hogwarts, worked for the Ministry of Magic as Unspeakables. From what Malcolm understood, they did some sort of top secret research for the 'Department of Mysteries', whatever the heck that was. Again, he didn't want to ask too many questions and reveal the extent of his ignorance.

Annalise actually spoke the least, but from what he gathered from other peoples' comments, she came from a very old and prestigious pureblood wizarding family in Eastern Europe. Privately, Malcolm thought they looked scary as hell when he saw them on platform nine and three-quarters.

"So, did you two," he pointed at Perren and Trish, "know each other before, or are you naturally gifted at bickering?" He smiled as the auburn-haired girl sputter and Perren laughed out loud. Malcolm could have sworn he saw a ghost of a smile flicker across Annalise's lips as well.

"Let's see…" Perren pondered thoughtfully, "I think we've cordially despised each other since, what, age five?"

"At least by six," Patricia agreed. "You were an awful whinging little brat when your parent brought you to the store that time you'd skinned your knee."

"Hey! That bloody hurt! I nearly knocked all the hide off the front of it!"

"Yeah, chasing that poor cat!" she countered.

"That 'poor cat' was a three foot long kneazel cross-breed monster that sodding near ate my owl!" Perren objected hotly.

"So how long have you two been dating?" Malcolm interjected as Patricia opened her mouth. Both of them made strangled cries and began throwing cards at him.

"Shoes on the other foot now, isn't it Hawkshorn?" Tobey asked, grinning.

Perren froze, He glared at Malcolm for a moment then started laughing.

Trish shook her head, muttering, then turned and struck up a conversation with Annalise. After a moment, the pale girl started replying and they conversed in low tones.

"Anyway…" Perren said, turning away from the girls in his seat to indicate his indifference to the snub. "Any more news on Black?"

Tobey scowled for a moment, but said "Nothing new in the Daily Prophet. Suppose he's still out there, then."

Malcolm almost asked who Black was before he caught himself.

"Wonder if the Ministry is offering a reward for his capture?" Perren said thoughtfully. Tobey grinned in an almost feral manner, but Patricia spun back around. So much for ignoring us, Malcolm thought with amusement.

"Don't be an idiot," she snapped. "Sirius Black was imprisoned for murdering a dozen people with a single curse, not to mention what he did for You-Know-Who! When he's caught it'll be by a team of aurors, not a first year student who barely knows how to hold his wand."

"Wasn't thinking about bagging him myself, luv," Perren said with a smile, "I'm more the 'flooing the authorities and telling them where I saw him' type. I am however, sincerely touched by your concern." The skinny boy waggled his eyebrows and the redhead made an exasperated sound.

Malcolm noticed the blond girl's eyes shifting between Perren and Patricia in confusion. After a moment she scowled and looked back out the window.

The four of them started up another game, and Malcolm found himself holding his own a bit better. Annalise showed zero interest in doing anything other than brooding, which was probably just as well. She seemed to be about as much fun as a broken leg. Does being a rich pureblood do that for you? Or is she just a particular pain?

The compartment door slid back and he could see a heavy-set witch pushing a cart. "Would you like something off the cart?" she asked.

Malcolm stood up and peered at the cart, seeing a wide variety of candies and sweets on it. He still had his lunch, and honestly he'd never been one for sweets. They usually were hard to get in some of the places his father had worked, and the local equivalents were sometimes quite odd-tasting. Perren and Tobey, on the other hand, did not hesitate. As they dug Sickles and Knuts out of their pockets, Malcolm reminded himself that he had to make that small bag of coins last as long as possible.

Patricia shook her head as Perren returned to their bench seat, arms loaded with bizarre confections. "You are hopeless," she said and sighed.

"I'm a growing boy," he replied loftily.

"You're an appetite with feet, that's what you are. You're always spending your last Knut on food."

"Oy! Not with the little miss financial planner act again?" Perren cried out in mock horror.

"People who go through life like you do always wonder why they come to a bad end," she replied primly.

"And people like you," he countered, "hit the end of the line and wonder when they were supposed to have lived a little."

"Perren," Patricia replied with a long-suffering tone, "I spent all summer working in an Ice Cream parlor. I've had all the sweets I'm going to want for a while."

"Oh. Right." Perren shut his mouth, flushing. "I suppose you don't want any of my Chocolate Frogs then?"

The tall girl smiled. "I'm fine, but Annalise might like to try one," she said gently.

"Oy! Dolohov!" Perren called out and tossed a bright foil package at the girl.

Annalise caught it reflexively, her mouth hanging open. Finally, she said "Thank you, Mister Hawkshorn" in a quiet voice. She looked down at the package as she opened it. Malcolm blinked as he realized the chocolate was actually moving, trying to jump out of her hands until she took a small bite of it.

"You want one, Malcolm?" Tobey asked him.

"That's all right, I packed a lunch. Thanks though," he added. He reached into his bag and pulled out a sandwich and started to unwrap it. Everyone was quiet as they ate. Surprisingly, it was more of a comfortable silence, and Malcolm chewed, reflecting on how odd a thing this was.

Even though it was still afternoon, the countryside got darker as the clouds stacked up. The door to their compartment banged open again and a tall thin boy with slicked back blond hair stuck his head in. He looked back and forth, a sneer fixed on his face. Beyond him, Malcolm could see two larger boys flanking him.

"Can I help you," Malcolm ask coolly.

"Just looking for someone," the blond boy replied, looking him up and down. "None of your concern."

Malcolm stared back at him, dislike curdling his half-digested lunch.

The boy slid the door shut, but not before they could hear his voice carry. "Just some useless first-years. Potter and Weasley must be farther back, along with that mudblood Granger."

Malcolm jumped a little when Patricia let out a hiss of anger. They all turned to look at her. "Did you hear that word he used?" she asked angrily.

"What, mudblood?" Tobey asked in confusion.

"That's a highly offensive word for muggle-born wizards. I can't believe a Hogwarts student gets away with using it."

Perren's lips thinned, but Tobey laughed out loud. Annalise was frowning at the girl, but she turned with the rest towards the stocky boy.

"He gets away with it because he's Draco bloody Malfoy, that's why," Tobey said bitterly. "His father sits on the Hogwarts Board of Governors."

"Ugh," Perren said.

"I understand the Malfoy family is quite prominent," Annalise said quietly.

"Well, if that's the next generation," Patricia snapped, "then I'd say their fortunes are due for a sharp down-turn."

Before Annalise could argue, Perren cut in. "Is that your fancy way of saying he's a right git, Trish?"

The Fortescue girl colored at the nickname and they went back to wrangling over that. Malcolm noticed Annalise looking around uncertainly. He wondered why he was watching her so much, but realized that she represented a mystery. Her family was more than passing strange. Why was she attending Hogwarts?