Chapter 21 - Broken

It took Ezra a few moments to recover from the blast. It had happened in such close proximity that it had winded him, and by the time he could breathe again, the Inferi were making their way onto the docks and crawling towards him at an alarming speed, considering they were dead. He inched away hurriedly, managed to get to his feet, and started to jog backwards.

He was a little worse for wear, covered in week-old facial hair and dirt from the bottom of the boat and acne, but he could still cast spells. This he did, though the incantation was drowned out by the huge rush of fire that exploded from his wand.

A giant, flaming dragon crackled through the newly-dark sky, huge and blazing. The Inferi began to scream; the dragon ducked low, scooping a couple of them into its massive jaws. Ezra flicked his wand, concentrating hard, and a new stream of fire started - this one a giant snake.

The fire was streaming from his wand continuously, and so he couldn't properly look behind him. When he heard Daniella's cries of fear, he arched his arm behind him to keep the flow going and whipped around to see her.

"DANIELLA!" he shouted, louder than he might have ever shouted in his life. The great snake, having just claimed another ten Inferi, turned and began to slither through the sky towards the end of the dock where Josiah, Noah, and Daniella stood.

Ezra flicked his wand again, and again, and again...

He was running so fast that by the time he reached them it was hard to stop; he stumbled for a moment, tripping over his own feet. The flames had followed him; the air was filled with the screaming of burning Inferi.

But Daniella...

"Let her GO!" Ezra screamed, his eyes-pitch black in the dark so that the fire was reflected in them. All of the separate fire beasts collided in the sky, creating a mass of fire so bright that it hurt to see; then, they formed a giant, fearsome cobra.

It lunged.

It was so large that its tail was still at the other end of the docks, lighting the wooden beams on fire as it slithered along. Where its belly touched the water, the magical fire made it hiss and turn to steam. The boat that had crashed was still burning in the distance.

The massive cobra had its hood extended, and its great head filled Ezra's entire field of vision. It bared its teeth for only a moment above the Inferius that had a hold of Daniella, then bit down with incredible speed.

The Inferius collapsed in a pile of ashes.

Daniella didn't realize she was screaming until she heard a familiar voice shout back her name. Her heart ached. He was there. She wanted to look for him, but those disgusting, gooey hands were still trying to push her into the water. She lost her balance, falling back, but kept throwing every hex she could remember at the Inferius. Nothing worked.

Then the night became bright with yellow and orange and red. They looked up in time to see a huge dragon made of flames cut through the sky, illuminating dozens of Inferi only to scorch them a moment later.

A shadowy figure came running towards them, the fire-dragon-snake in its tail. She felt the heat of the flames kiss her skin as the Inferi that surrounded them, the Inferius that had a hold of her, were destroyed, one by one. She was too mesmerized to remember how to speak. How was Ezra able to do that?

He looked terrible, uneven beard, greasy hair and clothes and he looked almost as pale as the creatures he'd just destroyed. She never loved him more.

She slowly got to her feet again, unsure what to do, not knowing what he would do. On the main street, chaos was still raging, but she barely took notice of any of it. She couldn't look away from Ezra.

Once all the Inferi stopped screaming, due largely in part to being very dead instead of just undead, Ezra stumbled back a few steps and muttered something hoarsely. The angry orange flames suddenly turned blue, as though they had frozen solid; then, the cobra slowly dissolved into a fine, sparkling mist, like stardust.

The Slytherin looked around wildly for Daniella, found her, and ran to her.

"Are you okay?" he asked, closing one eye against the smoke that was now mixing with the fog in the aftermath of his Fiendfyre.

"Sorry for ruining the moment," said Josiah in a small voice. "But was that Fiendfyre?"

"Yes," said Ezra, flatly. He was slightly out of breath from all the running. He panted for a few more moments, leaning over Daniella, when he had a sudden strike of memory. He stood and turned, trudging with effort to the crumpled figure of Logan. His thin ebony wand was pointed down at the older boy.

"You," he whispered. Then, without warning, he bent down and grabbed Logan's arm. He ripped the shirt away from it ferociously and held it, exposed, by the wrist. A dark, jet-black mark was visible on the pale skin of his arm. "You worthless, lying piece of shit. Look your sister in the eye and tell her yourself. I want her to hear it from you."

Daniella smiled hesitantly at Ezra, but before she had a chance to answer, Josiah interrupted them. She wanted to give him a good smack for doing that, but then Ezra took off again.

As he closed in on Logan her heart kept to her throat. Someone was going to end up dead tonight.

She rushed closer to them, one hand raised.

"No, Ezra, stop, it's alr-" She looked at Logan's arm that Ezra was holding up and froze in place. Her eyes were still watery from all the sudden light and smoke from the flames, but...

"What's that?" She asked, not wanting to believe what instinct was yelling at her.

Logan looked from Ezra to Daniella, then started laughing, a low, vicious chuckle. Using his free arm, he pulled himself up from the ground.

"What should I tell her first? Maybe I should tell where you learned to destroy Inferi?" He yanked his arm out of Ezra's grip and straightened up. "Or have you come clean to her already? Have you told her about the position that's waiting for you, that you've been groomed for all these years? You're no different from me, Greengrass."

Logan wrestled his arm from Ezra's grip, and the younger boy stood, slowly circling around Logan as he walked. He returned the chuckle with a terrifying, mirthless smirk.

"It's the Dark Mark," he answered Daniella's question, not taking his eyes off of Logan. His wand was held with an amazingly steady hand, pointed at Logan's chest. "It's what you get when you become a Death Eater. Tell me, Logan, when did you sign up? A few weeks ago? Months, maybe? Perhaps even a year? I wonder."

Ezra, who was wearing short sleeves, exposed both of his forearms, which were pale and slightly dirty, but free of tattoos.

"Sure, Logan, you can tell her. But after you tell her what my parents wanted for me, what they were grooming me for, make sure you throw in the part where I ran away from home. I ran away from home because I - unlike you - have qualms about torturing people to death."

He paused, leaning forward.

"Which is why you're not dead yet. But you should be. I should have killed you. I should kill you now."

As Greengrass talked, Logan met his sister's watery eyes. Eyes that looked so much like his own. He'd seen love and care in her eyes, when she was little. He'd seen pride and patience. He'd seen disappointment, frustration and anger. He'd never seen fear and rejection until today. One moment later, he couldn't see anything at all, anymore. Nothing.

Those were the eyes of a stranger staring at him, as Daniella finally gave up her brother.

Logan froze, more disturbed by that than he would be willing to admit. Something inside twisted and twisted, until it broke.

"Let it go, Ezra," his sister told Ezra softly, her voice sounding to Logan very distant. "He's not worth it."

Logan blinked slowly, absorbing those words. The meaning of them. He was alone now. Truly alone. He had nothing but his cause, his master. And revenge.

He looked at Ezra, sideways, his own wand hanging loosely from his fingers, along his side. He let his hate and jealousy towards Greengrass fill him, engulf him, erasing the pain of Dany's rejection.

Ezra's jaw was set so tightly that he could feel the tension in his forehead and all the way down his neck. He heard Daniella's voice, distant and soft. It rolled around in his mind and took him a few moments to fully comprehend.

He was so, so angry.

But he lowered his wand.

"We are nothing alike," he whispered, locking eyes with Logan one last time. "The Muggles and Mudbloods aren't your problem, Logan. You've chosen the wrong side. You're a fuck-up. Never make the mistake of thinking I'm like you."

He turned, reaching out to grab Josiah in one grimy hand, since he was closest.

"We're going."

Noah let out a resigned sigh as he took Jo's free hand. He'd misjudged Greengrass. He foresaw another apology in his immediate future; he wasn't happy with the current tally between the two of them.

Daniela was the last one. She looked at Logan one last time; he just stood there, an odd, sad smirk on his busted lips, looking at her, wand loose on his hand.

She looked at Ezra, trying to figure out what was going through his mind. As always, it was hard to tell; as always, she would gladly look at him for hours, trying to figure it out. But she needed more than that. She just wasn't sure he could give her that, or even if he wanted to.

He was willing to go back with them. She told herself that was good enough, for the time being. She took Noah's free hand.

Once everyone was close enough for Ezra to grab, he closed his eyes and pulled them through magical space at breakneck speed. Apparating with four people was especially uncomfortable; when they landed on the front steps of the condo, he inhaled deeply, glad for the air.

"Oh," Josiah said, suddenly panicked. "I'm so sorry, I changed the Charms so..."

"Just open the door," Ezra replied tonelessly.

"Okay," Josiah half-squeaked.

The Ravenclaw waved his wand for a brief moment, and they all piled into the front room. Jo shut the door behind them.

Ezra looked around tiredly; someone had moved all of his things into the front room, and they were sitting in a pile, rather haphazardly. Then again, he had left in rather a hurry - he supposed he couldn't be cross with them forever.

"I am going to take a shower," he announced slowly, gesturing toward the bathroom. "And shave, and eat, because for the past week, I have been living in a boat. We can talk about all of this tomorrow when I don't feel like a filthy Muggle hobo."

Inwardly, he was proud of himself; he'd learned what a hobo was from watching Crossroads.

-/-/-

Daniella was sitting by the window when the sky started to change from pitch black to grey, pink and then blue. She'd rolled around on the bed for hours, barely getting any sleep, and eventually just gave up on trying.

She dreaded the conversation that was coming. That wait, and the knowledge that he was under the same roof as her, but had purposefully avoided her last night made it obvious that he hadn't forgiven her.

Restless, she took a quick shower and made her way to the kitchen, to cook breakfast. Nobody had had much to eat last night, and she lived with three men, most of them voracious. All the while, she listened intently, trying to make out any sounds that came from the common room.

Ezra woke up on the couch feeling like a prince. He'd never gone so long without shaving, showering, or eating a proper meal before; waking up to the smell of bacon on an actual piece of furniture after a week of living in a small, dirty boat was like waking up in paradise.

He stretched, catlike, allowing himself to enjoy the feeling before all of the memories of the previous night returned to his sleep-fogged mind.

They'd thought he was a Death Eater.

He sat up blearily, rubbing one eye and looking over at the television, which was on, although the volume was low. He'd found that the low drone of unintelligible Muggle conversation helped him sleep; it was somewhat of a comfort.

He looked at his things, which were still in a pile on the floor beside the couch.

He was a man of pride, as was well known, and he didn't like to admit that his feelings had been hurt. The fact remained, though, that they had; he knew that he was very different from the others, perhaps even foreign in a way, but he'd felt like they had been coming to terms which each other's difference. He might have grown up hating Muggleborns, sure, but that was because it was all he had ever been taught, and nobody could rightfully be expected to rebel against that until they were proven wrong.

Sure, he might have grown up learning Dark Magic and planning to help conduct a mass genocide, but he'd run away before then, and that was what mattered...

Right?

Now he wasn't sure. All he knew was that, when push had come to shove, they hadn't trusted him. He had been trying so hard, trying as hard as he was able, and they had believed whatever Logan told them with barely any resistance at all. Had they thought so poorly of him all along?

He put both meticulously-cleaned feet on the cold faux-wood floor and stood up, padding quietly across the room and into Daniella's half of the condo. He poked his head in, looking first at the table, then at her. He couldn't hold her eyes, so he quickly looked to the side.

"Good morning," he murmured.

Daniella met Ezra's eyes. The frying pan rattled against the dishes. She focused her attention back on it and pressed her lips together, telling herself to calm down.

"Good morning," she greeted back, moving busily around the kitchen, avoiding him. "Sit down, breakfast is almost ready."

When she couldn't think of anything else to do, she took her seat on one side of the small table and studied him cautiously. "Thanks for helping us last night."

Ezra pulled out the chair he had Transfigured a few weeks ago and sat, wordlessly.

He would be lying if he said that he hadn't been thinking about Daniella. In fact, he'd been thinking about her constantly, especially when he'd been stuck in that stupid boat. He had also cried a little, which he would never admit; in his mind, he was still blaming it on the extreme hunger he'd had to suffer while trying to make one can of beans last for two days.

He wasn't sure what the state of their relationship was now, although he knew that he was still wounded from last week's events. He also knew that hearing her cry for help had pierced his heart like an arrow. He had never worried for anyone so much, never cared so completely about anyone that he had been compelled to risk his own life.

His eyes remained fixed on the scratched tabletop. His chin was cradled in one hand, so his reply was muffled.

"You're welcome."

Ezra looked up, then quickly away again.

"I don't suppose I have to tell you that none of that was my idea."

"I know," Daniella murmured, not quite daring to look him in the eyes. "I think I knew from the moment you left."

She poured scrambled eggs and bacon into one dish and silently pushed it in his direction. Then she served herself, even though her stomach felt more like a tight ball of mixed feelings. "We didn't handle things right. We let-" she interrupted herself. "I let my doubts get the best of my judgment. I guess I wanted to believe my brother wasn't that… that…"

She sighed, closing her eyes. "I know it won't make a difference, but I'm truly sorry."

Ezra's heart lifted at this, quite against his will. Of course, he would have preferred her to have known before he'd left, but the fact that she had only doubted him for a moment... it still hurt, but a little less. At least he knew that she hadn't spent all that time cursing his name.

He accepted the plate gratefully and began to cut the eggs into small pieces with his fork.

He listened, and then was silent for a long, long time.

"I know," he said finally, taking his first bite of egg. He closed his eyes, savoring for a moment, before continuing. "I know I don't seem like the hero type. I suppose I just thought... after how hard I'd been trying, it would have made some difference."

He started to work on the bacon; even though he'd had dinner the night before, he felt like he hadn't eaten in a year.

"I'm just glad it didn't get you killed," he murmured, quietly. "I camped out there because I knew... he wouldn't have mentioned it if he hadn't been planning something. But if I hadn't been there..."

He didn't want to think about what might have happened.

As she apologized, he looked up. His eyes were tired, but not angry.

"It's still nice to hear," he admitted in a mumble, stuffing more bacon into his mouth.

"It would've made a difference, Ezra. The things Logan said, and that other man… I had my doubts, and they had them too, but we wanted to believe you had a reasonable explanation. So we came back to talk to you."

Daniella hesitated, but pushed on, perfectly aware that her next words might ruin every chance of her ever getting him back. But they needed to change some things in their relationship if they wanted it to survive.

"But you left." She wanted to touch him, but kept her fingers tightly wrapped around her fork. "All I needed was an answer. I would've believed you, Ezra."

She looked at her own plate. "How can you expect me to trust you blindly, when you don't trust me enough to tell me something so big? Why didn't you tell me the real reason you ran away from home?"

Ezra closed his eyes, as though he was trying to wish away the conversation out of sheer willpower. He inhaled and exhaled deeply.

"You were supposed to know the answer," he said finally, shaking his head. "Of everyone, you were supposed to be the one person who was on my side, the one person I could trust. And then, suddenly... you say I don't tell you enough, but really, I've spent the past few months living with you. You know what I've been up to. Or you should have known. And when I warned you about Logan, you should have believed me. Why do I always have to prove to everyone that I'm not going to murder them in their sleep?"

He laughed hollowly.

"But no. I see. That's fine. Listen to me carefully, Daniella. I ran away from home for a lot of reasons - of which the fact that my parents are one of the major financial supporters of You-Know-Who was only one. I ran away from home the moment I realized that I loved you, and that I couldn't live a peaceful life with you if I didn't fight against my family every step of the way. So that is what I've done. For you. You are my family now, do you understand? You are the only family I have."

He looked up at her; his eyes were deep with hurt.

"I'm trying, but I can't change overnight. And, for the record, if I didn't know any Dark Magic, you would probably be dead. So, again, you're welcome."

Ezra looked off to the side miserably, putting his fork down on his plate and looking off to the side.

He wondered if Crossroads was on yet.

The accusations hurt. For months, she'd defended him against everyone else. And then one hesitation, one doubt, and everything had fallen to pieces. "I'm trying too! Do you think it's any easier for me?! I used to trust that completely… in my brother. Until he broke that trust, so many times that I couldn't trust anymore. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to put my trust in someone again? I was scared, Ezra..."

Her eyes burned; she blinked, looking away for a moment. She'd messed things up so badly! He was the only family she had as well; him and Jo. But she didn't know how to fix this, because clearly they weren't getting anywhere.

"I was weak... I'm sorry," she said in a low voice, smashing her eggs with her fork. "Thank you for saving our lives."

Unable to sit still, she stood up and turned to the sink, to start washing the dishes, so she didn't have to watch him get away from her.

Ezra remained motionless and silent as she moved quickly, slamming the dishes with a clatter and carrying over to the sink, where she busied herself in an attempt to get away from him.

He really didn't have any idea, he realized. He had never trusted anyone before he'd trusted her; he'd never had to worry about anyone breaking his trust, because he'd never given them any. It wasn't safe for a person like him to trust. Despite all his efforts to the contrary, he had been irreparably damaged by the manner in which he'd been raised. All of those years he'd been starving for affection, and now, just when he'd had it, he'd gone and fucked it up.

The door opened and closed. He looked up.

"Oh," said Josiah, meekly. "Sorry, bad time?"

Ezra stared at him blankly for a few moments, wondering how anyone could possibly be so daft and likable at the same time. He supposed it had something to do with growing up in an actual family, where people cared for you and you returned the favor. Perhaps it made you more sensitive to other people's feelings.

"No," Ezra said flatly. "I was just leaving."

Josiah gave him a wide-eyed, concerned look, fidgeting with his hands and the hem of his sleepshirt awkwardly as though he wanted to say something but was restraining himself.

Oh, Merlin's pants, Ezra thought dryly. They were going to be here all day.

"I just wanted to say..." Jo started, uncertainly. "I'm really sorry. I knew in the back of my mind that it was all wrong, the whole time, and I should have said, but I was just so scared... I guess what I'm trying to say is that I... I never thought you would hurt us, Ezra. I mean, I know we aren't the best of friends, but I think I know you a little better than that, and... it must have hurt your feelings quite an awful lot."

Ezra blinked into the rambling apology, not sure which part he should focus on the most, or if he should be cheered or irked by it. He decided to try the former, as it was unlikely that he was going to get any other sort of encouragement anytime soon from anyone else.

"And that Fiendfyre was really, really wicked cool," Josiah added, a little breathlessly. "I know it's Dark Magic, but I thought sometime... maybe... I mean... you might teach me. If you want," he added hurriedly.

A few beats of silence passed.

"Thank you," he said, quietly. "I'll think about it."

More silence.

"Are you going to finish your bacon, if you're leaving?" the Ravenclaw asked innocently.

Ezra huffed out a short, weak laugh despite himself.

"No, you can go ahead. I'm... I'm going out for a while. I thought I would try to find us another house," he said, hoping that didn't sound like some sort of lame excuse, because it wasn't. They wouldn't be able to stay there for more than a few days, and they certainly wouldn't be able to go back to work at their former places of employment.

Josiah pondered this for a moment.

"Okay," he said slowly, offering the other boy a small, warm smile. "You should get Noah to go with you. I'll stay with Dan and help tidy up. Not that I don't trust you!" he said immediately, realizing how that had sounded. "Just that... you know... it's not safe for us to split up. I think we all learned that yesterday."

After a while, Ezra nodded.

"Yeah," he affirmed. Then, with a click of the door shutting behind him, he was gone.

Daniella heard the conversation in silence. Ezra left without saying another word to her. Sighing sadly, she turned her head slightly to the table. "I can make more bacon if you want, just let me know," she said quietly, cleaning her hands on the kitchen cloth.

She leaned back against the counter, throwing glances at Jo every now and then, biting her nails. She never bit her nails. "He didn't forgive me," she said suddenly. Huffing out a breath, she murmured, "I made a mess of everything, I know. But he's so infuriating, sometimes!"

Josiah, who had picked up the two pieces of bacon remaining on Ezra's plate and was now chewing them determinedly, covered his mouth with one hand so he could politely talk while chewing.

"That's fine," he said, swallowing. "I would be keen on some more eggs, though, if you're willing. He's finished his."

He looked at the egg crumbs sadly and then back up at his best friend. She was biting her nails; she never bit her nails. He gave her a small, encouraging smile.

"He's a man, love," Jo told her comfortingly, as though he wasn't one. "They have been known to do that from time to time."

He pulled the chair that Ezra had recently vacated closer to him and plopped down in it, crossing one leg over his thigh and resting his elbows on the table.

"What did he say?" he asked, an open invitation for her to vent her frustrations.

"Sure." Daniella was thankful for the chance to get busy again; for the chance to pour her heart out without having to face Jo.

"He said I should've known; that I should've believed him and known that Logan was lying. He said I was supposed to be on his side, that he thought he could trust me. As if he was saying he can't trust me now; saying that I betrayed him. It was my brother, what was I supposed to do?"

She scrambled the eggs a bit too furiously, then took the plate from the table and poured them onto it. Maybe she'd made too many eggs, she thought offhandedly. She sat in front of Jo, setting the plate in front of him.

"I wanted to believe my brother wasn't so bad. But I also wanted Ezra to tell me it was all a lie. That I wasn't wrong about him But he just left, and it's my fault. Because I drew him away from his family, and he only has me now, and now he doesn't trust me and he barely even talks to me!"

She paused to catch her breath, feeling lightheaded from the outburst. "He's too proud, Jo. He acts like nothing affects him, but then when it does, it's so intense… I don't know if he'll ever really forgive me. If he'll ever trust me again."

Jo listened patiently, trying not to interject. It was clear that Dan needed this time; she needed to vent to someone who wouldn't judge her, and Josiah knew that he was the only person she had right now who could be that for her. He thanked her for the eggs with a smile and pulled them closer before digging in.

He wasn't necessarily sure that he needed four eggs all to himself, but he didn't have the heart to say that, either, so he was determined to eat them all and be happy about it.

"Mm," he hummed in the back of his throat, both in appreciation for the food and as an aid to his thought. "I know, love. But he doesn't have any siblings, right? Before he met you, did he even have friends?"

Josiah wondered if this was a mean thing to say, and looked properly sheepish before continuing on.

"I mean, you and I understand how that is, because we grew up with our siblings, but it's like he told you - you're all he has. I'm not saying you're wrong! He is very poor at communicating, no doubts 'bout that. It was awful, the way he handled it. I'm just saying he probably really doesn't understand. The only way you learn how to share your feelings is by experience, and if you don't show him how, he won't figure it out. Bless him, he still can't tell a nickel from a quarter, and I've shown him six times."

Having said this, Josiah downed a few more forkfuls of egg. He looked at his best friend, and could see the sadness in her eyes. Ezra's eyes had been like that, too. They had been like that as long as he'd known the other boy. They'd probably been like that longer. But the fact was that they were both in pain, and it wouldn't do them any good to keep snipping at each other. It would only make the situation worse.

"He'll forgive you," Jo said confidently. "I'm sure of it. I think he forgave you truly when he decided to come home with us. He would have left otherwise, wouldn't he have? He just doesn't know how to say so. He'll definitely, definitely forgive you. Just give it a bit of time, aye?"

Daniella huffed. "He had Sabrina, I guess. With friends like her, who needs enemies?" She lowered her voice.

Her upper lip trembled in the ghost of a smile. "I hope you're right. I just miss him. A lot. I never thought I'd need someone so much." She sighed, resting her chin on her hand. I want him to feel happy, for a change. But I don't know what to do."

"See, it's no wonder he's so bad at all this," Josiah said, solemnly.

He reached across the table and covered her hands in his own; he gave them a squeeze, then, and smiled.

"I know. Love is hard sometimes. Even Noah and I have problems now and then, you know?" He pulled his hands back to his side of the table and folded them in his lap. "But he'll come 'round, you'll see. He needs you as much as you need him."

Jo finished the remaining eggs on the plate and pushed it back. He definitely wasn't hungry anymore, that was for sure. Then, he pondered Dan's question for a long, hard moment. Sure, he knew how to make men happy, but he wasn't sure that she wanted to hear what he had to say...

"Well, I wouldn't buy him anything," said Jo wisely. "He's been bought things his whole life, innit, but he's not any happier for it." The Ravenclaw trailed off uncertainly. "I don't know, Dan... but I'm sure you'll figure it out when the time is right. Think of it as falling in love all over again."

-/-/-

Noah stretched, sprawled diagonally on the bed. He didn't have many chances to take up all the space. His body felt heavy and lazy, like he'd slept too much. Which he had, he realized, as he looked at the clock.

He jumped out of bed, dragged his feet into the bathroom, washed his face and got dressed. The knuckles of his right hand were achy and bruised. He smiled at the thought of how much more that asshole must have hurt.

He peeked into the fridge, found half of a turkey sandwich and took a large bite. What would he do with himself all day, now that he couldn't go back to work? He left his side of the condo to find Jo, and found Ezra instead, eyes fixed on the tv.

Crap, he wasn't quite ready to humiliate himself for a second time in less than two weeks. He looked at the other boy and sighed loudly.

"I can't believe I have to do this again." He looked at Greengrass a bit longer, then rolled his eyes in resignation. "I'm sorry I misjudged you. We were unfair with you and it turned into a huge mess." A thoughtful pause. "It was a good thing you were there. I don't think we could've escaped those things. It was a pretty cool trick, by the way," he finished, then looked around awkwardly at anything but Greengrass.

Ezra glanced up from the TV, slightly unwillingly, as Noah entered the room. At least the other boy was awake - he'd gone through two episodes already, and he was itching to get out of this house. Just being in close proximity with Daniella right now was making his heart ache and his jaw clench. He wasn't sure which was worse.

Their eyes met, and they stared at each other for a while. Then, Noah apologized.

Ezra was finding this whole accepting apologies thing to be very awkward, and he wasn't sure why he was suddenly having to do it so often. He puffed out his cheeks with a sigh, looking back to the television as he tried to think of something reasonable to say.

"You're welcome," he settled on, after a while. "Now that we have that out of the way, Johnston told me that I should take you with me to look for a new house. The fact that you are the least awkward person I can take with me at the moment should say more than enough about my current situation, so please don't make this any more difficult than it needs to be."

Noah looked at the door that led to the other side of the condo, then back at him. So, those two weren't getting along yet. That was a shame. Even though he wasn't exactly close to Daniella, the mood in the house in the past week was driving him crazy. Couldn't these people just make up and make out, and be done with it, he wondered.

"Sure, why not? Getting out of the house sounds like a terrific idea." He snorted at Ezra's last request, shaking his head. "I'll do my best," he said dryly.

He grabbed his keys from the table, then moved around a couple boxes to pick up the two helmets he had in the corner.

"Let's go, then."

Ezra, already dressed and relieved that Noah didn't put up any resistance, got to his feet and smoothed out his black button-down shirt. He had the sleeves rolled up, which was rather out of character for him; he had seen someone do it on the television and was giving it a try.

It wasn't until the other boy offered him a helmet that he stopped, staring wordlessly for some collection of moments.

"What's in Merlin's name do you propose I do with that? What is that, anyway? I've always wondered when I pass them on the way in. I thought they were ugly bowls with straps." He took the proffered helmet and examined it critically. He chanced another look up, nonplussed. "They aren't bowls, are they?"

Surely no one could blame him for being absolutely sure.

Noah stared at Ezra, trying to keep his mouth from opening. He wanted to face-palm instead.

"Bowls…" He repeated, his voice choking. He groaned; then frowned. "They're helmets," he said slowly.

"And they're not ugly," he added stiffly, rather matter-of-factly. "I propose you put it on your head, unless you want your precious brain scattered all over the road if we have an accident."

He shook his head and opened the door.

"You weren't really expecting to go around town looking for houses on foot all day, were you?"

Ezra pondered this new information for a few moments.

"Well, they look fine for helmets, I suppose," he mused. "You do have to admit they'd make hideous bowls."

He put the helmet on his head experimentally, adjusted it several times, and began fiddling with the straps. Then, as though he'd just had a realization of massive proportions (which he had), he stopped and gave Noah a very dull, humorless look.

"What do you mean, 'an accident'? What kind of accident?" He studied the other boy critically. "You mean these helmets are for your - that - that Muggle contraption you keep locked up downstairs?"

No. No, absolutely not.

"I wasn't," he replied, somewhat hotly. "I was planning to Apparate out of the city and look for houses elsewhere. Because I am a wizard, of age, with an Apparition license."

He took the helmet off, looking incredulous.

"Surely you don't mean to say you thought we could stay in Liverpool," he added, with some disdain. "This place will be crawling with spies by now. You'll probably be dead if you step out the front door."

Noah laughed, he couldn't help it. "You really are something."

He looked back at the other boy as he started to freak out – he had hoped he could avoid that – then closed the door again, and put down his own helmet on the table.

"First of all, I have never had an accident." At least not after getting my license, he thought, but didn't say. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm a really good Quidditch player. And driving a motorcycle – that's what they're called – isn't so different from riding a broomstick, except you stay on the ground."

He took the helmet from Ezra's hands and put it on the Slytherin's head, adjusting the stripes with clean precision.

"Secondly, doesn't matter which town it is, if you go around Apparating all over the place, we'll end up doing it in front of a bunch of Muggles, and get ourselves in trouble. I thought the whole idea of us living among the Muggles was to hide from the magical word?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. "I haven't used the motorcycle, so they won't be looking for us on one."

He guided Greengrass to the small, slightly dirty tall mirror next to the door.

"With that on, no one will recognize you." He looked over Ezra's tall, lean body, at his clothes, so proper and old-fashioned. "I hope."

He put his own helmet on and opened the door again.

"And take it easy, mate. We're supposed to not make this difficult on each other, right? Don't worry, I'll leave all the tactical planning to you. Just tell me where to drive to."

Ezra raised one dark, high-arched eyebrow, but said nothing. The way Noah equated it to a broomstick soothed him a bit. He wasn't an all-star Quidditch player, or even very athletic, but he had ridden a broomstick numerous times and wasn't completely terrible at it. A broomstick that stayed on the ground didn't sound dangerous at all, really. He wondered how Muggles managed to have accidents despite being so close to the ground all the time.

He allowed the other boy to squish the helmet onto his head and fasten it securely, although the quip about Apparition made him frown. Apparition was an incredibly convenient, unbeatably fast, and a perfectly decent method of transportation.

But he had to admit that Noah had a point. Muggles didn't take well to people appearing out of thin air.

"Yes, alright," he conceded with a sigh. He examined himself in the mirror critically; the helmet didn't really mesh with his hair or his outfit, but he supposed that couldn't be helped.

"How fast does it go?" he asked after a while, curiously. He knew that a Cleansweep Seven could register a very respectable 50 kilometers per hour, but wasn't up-to-date on the specifications of Muggle transportation. "Not too quick, I suppose."

He followed Noah out of the condo and out onto the sidewalk.

Noah studied Ezra for a long time after that question. He grinned.

"That depends on how brave you are, and if you want to be back in time for dinner." He said, sounding cryptic. "Come on, before you start panicking."

He didn't say anything else until they reached the motorcycle. He took his wand from his back pocket and tapped the seat of the vehicle with it to undo the protective Charms he'd put on it.

He patted the seat. "Isn't it a beauty?" He asked with a dreamy smile. "It took all the galleons I ever earned until I was 16, and some help from my parents to buy it and restore it."

He opened the small gate in front of the building and took the motorcycle outside. Then, he straddled it, started the engine and turned to Ezra. "Jump in. Where are we going?"

Ezra stared at the motorcycle dumbly. He'd just had another realization, and this one was slightly more unpleasant than the other.

"So," he began, experimentally. "I'm to sit behind you, is that it?"

It must be, he thought, because he couldn't see any other way they were going to manage this without getting killed. He inhaled deeply, pressing his teeth together with unhealthy force.

"Bloody hell," he growled under his breath, sliding onto the motorcycle behind Noah and trying to get situated. He tried not to look too murderous as the bike inched forward, and Ezra slid further up the seat so that Noah's back was very much between his legs. Then there was the matter of his hands, which was very awkward, perhaps even more so than the former predicament; he compromised by sinking his thin, claw-like fingers into Noah's jacket and gripping them tightly.

"Far away," Ezra said vaguely, once he had come to terms with the humiliation. "Out of the city. Drive until you see woods. And for Merlin's sake, don't take your bloody time."

Noah's helmet allowed him to hide his amused grin. He swiveled down the visor, laughing quietly as Ezra struggled to find a position. The other boy was extremely uncomfortable, but Noah, as amused as he was, had to think about their safety. Daniella would have his head on a platter if Ezra fell off of the motorcycle because he wasn't holding on.

"Hold on tight. Don't worry, you're not my type, anyway," he teased, trying to lighten up the mood.

Without waiting for a reply, he spun the handle and they took off. He drove slowly at first, enjoying the feeling of the vibrating engine, the power of the bike. He'd missed that. He missed flying even more, but he was content to enjoy one of his passions for now. Then they arrived at the highway, heading out of the city, to the North, and he showed Ezra what the 'Muggle contraption' could do.