Chapter 11: A Necessary and Fateful Convergence, Pt. 1

James saw it developing almost before it happened.

He and the Gryffindors were on offense again, with a chance to take the lead after an initial deficit. He and Sylvia had scored a goal each. Asher Rodney, meanwhile, was harassing one of Ravenclaw's Beaters, Donaghan Craig, blocking his flight paths and serving as a general nuisance. He was freelancing; James knew this and Freddy probably knew it, too. Given the results, though, they weren't going to complain about it just yet. Rodney took himself out of the offense, sure; but he also took Craig away from Sylvia and James. McFadden, as good as he was, couldn't out-beat both Freddy and Desmond by himself. Sylvia and James were able to fly mostly unmolested to the hoops and tie the score.

Of course, a side effect of this was that Craig's simmering annoyance was inching closer to a dangerous boiling point the longer the match went.

Finally, Rodney misjudged Craig and the two bumped in midair. Correctly, Arbiter Thomas called a foul on Rodney – but by then, it was too late. Craig, at least from where James could see, took a swing at Rodney, either with his fist or perhaps with his bat. Thankfully, he missed, but Rodney retaliated. The two ended up locked together and Craig's bat came free as they spiraled down to the ground in a tangle of brooms and robes.

Arbiter Thomas was currently descending after them, blowing shrill but fruitless blasts on his whistle in an attempt to get the two to break up. Finally, his patience ran out; he drew his wand and aimed at the two boys.

A jet of light hit the tangled mass and broke them apart just in time for them to right themselves before slamming into the ground.

Freddy had hovered up next to James and he did not look happy.

"This is gonna be bad," he muttered, throwing himself into a dive to reach the ground. James followed him.

What they and the other players found when they landed, was Arbiter Thomas physically standing between both boys, barring each's way to the other. Shockingly, of the two of them, the older and much bigger Ravenclaw Beater looked to have come off slightly worse. Rodney had evidently landed some sort of blow, as blood was dribbling from Craig's lip. Rodney was obviously not done, either; the arbiter had to physically push him back a couple of times while Rodney shouted, "Not so hard now, are you?" He called Craig something quite rude, at which point Arbiter Thomas shouted, "Enough! Red, eleven—" He called the color and jersey number representing Asher Rodney while pointing in his direction. Then, with an airward flourish of his finger and arm, he shouted, "You're gone!"

The incompatible mixture of vindicated cheers and shouts of outrage rained down on the pitch from above them.

Then, quickly, Arbiter Thomas turned toward Donaghan Craig and Cordelia Byrne (who was standing next to him at this point) and performed the same motion – "Blue, five – out!"

More cheers and jeers, their relative positions and volumes now seemingly reversed.

"What?" Cordelia questioned. "Why? Rodney's the one that bloodied his lip!"

"I called a fair foul," Arbiter Thomas reasoned. "Your man went at red's nut with his club. You know as well as I do that's an automatic ejection. Can't do that. Not in any ruleset on any level of Quidditch."

Cordelia rolled her eyes and then glared at Craig. Pointing vaguely in the directly of Rodney (who was departing the pitch without argument), Craig started, "He—"

But Cordelia was clearly not in the mood. Very obviously trying to keep her patience and barely managing to pull it off, she responded flatly, "Just… go."

Craig yanked his broom up off the ground forcefully and walked back toward the showers by himself.

"He needs suspended," someone behind James commented.

"What?" squawked Cordelia.

"'What?' That's the second time in as many matches he's gone out of his way to try and injure one of our players!" Desmond McLaggen yelled, walking in the direction of the Ravenclaws.

"Cool it, Mac." Freddy got to him early and held him back.

Arbiter Thomas was slightly apologetic in his expression as he responded. "Not in my power. You'd have to take that to his Head of House or higher."

"Both Ravenclaws," Desmond stated cynically. "So fat chance of that happening."

"Well—" Arbiter Thomas grimaced. With a sigh, he obviously decided not to get into the debate. "Captains, set your new lineups. And cut it off here – any more funny business and you'll hit the showers early along with the offender."

Freddy seemed unconcerned – Rodney had gone a bit rogue, after all – but Cordelia's reaction to this was a bit comical to watch. She opened her mouth and made a wild gesture to protest, but stopped midway through, palmed her face, and kneaded the bridge of her nose. Taking a deep breath to try to calm herself, she said, "Lennox, grab your bat. Martell, you're in at Chaser."

Martell stood out in the Ravenclaw lineup. Black and visibly over six feet, he was nearly as tall as Arbiter Thomas and every bit as lanky. James guessed that, as he was a reserve, he wasn't Lennox's equal on a broom. At least, he hoped as much.

If he was, this was going to be a pain.

"That's Lennox going from Chaser to Beater, Nicks coming in at Chaser. You get all that?" Cordelia Byrne asked Arbiter Thomas.

"Yep," he replied. Then he turned to Freddy. "Weasley?"

Freddy's nostrils flared. "Gold's in at Chaser."

Arbiter Thomas nodded. "Penalty shot to each team, then we play on. And keep it clean!"

As the teams separated, James strode to catch up with Freddy, who was grumbling to himself. "I'm such an ass. I should've reined him in."

"Good luck with that," McLaggen commented from Freddy's other side. "You knew it was gonna be personal from the off."

"Doesn't matter," Scorpius, in typical Scorpius fashion, intoned, his thin mouth set in a firm line. "He put what he wanted above the needs of the team."

"You don't understand anything, do you?" McLaggen scoffed. "Have you ever fancied a girl, Malfoy?"

"What's that got to do with anything?" snapped Scorpius, now looking uncomfortable.

"Yes," Sylvia, who loved needling McLaggen, remarked. "Please share with us your wisdom, Mr. 'Expert'."

McLaggen had a very un-McLaggen-like reaction to this. He scowled and looked away from her, but the sudden flush of pink on his face was obvious to James even at a distance. "I-I never said I was an 'expert'. I-I've heard… things. Listen, I'm not saying what he did wasn't a bad idea, it's just…"

He trailed off.

"Well, it gets Craig out of the way, right?" Sylvia queried.

"There's that," Freddy answered. Judging by his facial expression, though, that fact wasn't much comfort for him. Angling his head toward Alphonse Gold, he remarked, "You're going to have to take the shot since you're coming in for Rodney."

"Y-yeah. Fine." Gold, a second year, didn't get to play very often as the team's youngest reserve last year. In fact, if James remembered correctly, this was the first match he'd actually gotten into. No wonder he was nervous.

Those nerves showed, unfortunately, when the teams took to the air again and he took his shot. It went wide of its mark and the Ravenclaw Keeper, Callahan, didn't even bother moving to defend anything.

To make matters worse, since Craig was a Beater that had been fouled, the Ravenclaws could have their pick of who they wanted to take their penalty shot. Cordelia elected to do it herself. A skilled feint sent Brookstanton pealing off in the wrong direction, and Cordelia put the Quaffle through the hoop right behind him. What small joy James got from knowing he could give Brookstanton grief about the play later, was tempered by the fact that Gryffindor was, once again, down a goal.

Even Freddy didn't do a great job hiding his disappointment. His shoulders slouched, but for only a second. Everybody had to get back on task, and most of the Gryffindors did so only after Sylvia sped past them with the Quaffle under her arm. It turned out to be a bad idea. One of the Bludgers clipped her broom. It wasn't a direct hit, but it did send her into a roll, which made her drop the Quaffle. Davies from Ravenclaw grabbed it. James scanned the pitch. Cordelia Byrne was flying nearby, looking at Davies, calling for the Quaffle. Neither of the girls saw him.

James made his move and, sure enough, by the time Davies wound up to throw the pass, he was between Cordelia and the ball. He reached out, plucked the ill-advised pass from the air with one hand, and shot like a missile toward Ravenclaw's hoops. As he approached, Callahan bobbed around on his broom from hoop to hoop uncertainly. Something whirred on James's right. Instinctively, he dove a bit, ducking his head as well, just in case. After a split-second passed and he knew he wasn't about to get his skull cracked open, he looked around just in time to see Lennox on his left, striking a Bludger with his club. Behind him, though, he saw Sylvia careening around the edge of the pitch. She had a headstart, but Marjery Davies was tailing her, and with a faster broom, gaining ground. Lennox didn't see this, though; and if both Beaters were focused on James, then….

James slung the ball around Lennox, who wasn't ready. It was far out in front of Sylvia and it looked like James had missed his target by a mile….

Except he hadn't.

The ball spun back, just as he'd planned. Sylvia flew right into the ball and, a bit surprised, nearly dropped it. By the time she had control, she was feet away from a wide-open hoop. She let it go and cleared herself, and the ball sailed through for an easy goal.

As the Gryffindor section roared and the goal was announced, James couldn't hold himself back from a fist pump.

"Whoa!" Alphonse Gold, who was a bit late to the action, shouted from behind James. "That was a wicked bender! Where'd you learn that?"

"I'll teach it to you later – watch Nicks!" James pointed, as Cordelia and the Ravenclaws were coming back on offense. Knowing my luck, he thought to himself, I'll never be able to bring it off again.

As the game wore on, though, even James was surprised by how evenly matched they were. Neither team was able to pull ahead by more than ten points. After an hour and a half that felt like much longer, Gryffindor was actually up by a goal, ninety to eighty…

And then, in a moment, the game ended.

Going for the Snitch, the two seekers collided in what probably could have been a foul called on Rohan Lynch. Alas, it was not, and Lynch came up with the Snitch.

It was strange; James didn't like the idea of playing Seeker, and he certainly wasn't ever going to suggest that he could do the job better than Malfoy could. But if there was one thing he hated about playing Chaser, it was that the Chasers didn't have much impact on whether the team won or lost a game. They weren't wholly immaterial. Most Quidditch cups, the Hogwarts Cup included, placed teams based on some combination of record and total points scored.

That wasn't much comfort today, though. They had lost, and that created a leaden feeling in his stomach that wasn't going away. Solemnly, each team lined up its ten players for sportsmanlike handshakes. Davies and Cordelia Byrne had especially stiff ones for James, probably more to make a point than anything. Cordelia, though, had a very strong grip anyway, which certainly explained a lot. Nevan McFadden was big but seemingly gentle on the ground. Callahan subtly tried to break his hand, which James felt he should have seen coming; he'd made the Ravenclaw Keeper look silly on a couple of occasions.

Louis was last in line. He shook James's hand firmly and looked a bit downcast for someone whose team had just won the match. It was only as he was starting to walk away that James realized his younger cousin and smuggled something into his palm. It looked like a tiny piece of parchment.

"Whoa – what's this?" James turned to query.

"Don't know," Louis said. "A girl in my year asked me to give it to you. Secret admirer note, maybe?" he suggested, managing a smirk that suggested perhaps some sort of firsthand experience. Then, his face turned thoughtful, as if he'd just remembered something. "Then again, she was from Slytherin… not saying you wouldn't have any admirers in Slytherin, it's just that… well, Lily's in Slytherin, right? Might be from her."

It did seem like the sort of small-scale mischief Lily would engage in, James thought. Maybe, though, she just missed him. They hadn't gotten to speak beyond an occasional wave in weeks.

"Whatever it is, it's probably important," Louis reasoned. "Try not to lose it."

Louis started to walk away, but James called after him. "Lou!"

Louis turned around.

"Don't get too down on yourself," James advised him. "I didn't play much my first game, either, and I came out alright."

Louis managed a half-smile before turning to walk away.

James investigated the small piece of parchment in his hand. It was a square, maybe an inch lengthwise and a little less than that in width. Black lines striped it. It looked weirdly like a full sheet of parchment in miniature…

Probably because it is, James thought, pocketing it. He went toward the locker room, trying to remember the last time he had practiced an Engorgement Charm.

James hadn't been expecting the locker room to be a very happy place after the loss. Asher Rodney, by the time the rest of the team arrived, had evidently used a locker as a stand-in for Donaghan Craig's jaw, given that it was sporting a significant dent. The news of the loss did nothing for his temper.

James, at his locker, cringed when he heard the cry of "How? How could you let Lynch beat you to the Snitch?" because he knew it wasn't gonna end well. "You tired? That it? Another late night patrolling with your stupid Godric's Guard mates?"

"Stop it, Rodney," Freddy warned.

"No, go on – I'm interested to hear this," Scorpius cut across him. "Maybe you should've played Seeker instead, since it's so easy. Wait a second – you couldn't have, because you were busy getting ejected like an idiot and weren't on the pitch to help us at all."

"I did what nobody else had the balls to do," Rodney defended himself.

"You got in the way," Scorpius snapped. His teeth were grit. "I had the Snitch in my sight and Lynch was nowhere bloody close. Then you pulled your stunt and we had to stop play to keep you and Craig from murdering each other."

A few seconds of silence, and the short disagreement appeared to be over – until Rodney, at his locker, murmured one word:

"Convenient."

Scorpius was sitting next to James, facing the lockers with his back to Rodney just as James was. When James looked over at him, Scorpius's gray eyes had assumed a truly dangerous-looking blank stare.

"Are you calling me a liar?" Scorpius stood and opened his locker. "Let me guess – the Malfoys before me did a lot of lying, so I must be a liar, too?"

"I never said that," Rodney answered loudly. "But, now that you mention it—"

A horrible clangor rang through the small room as Scorpius slammed his locker shut harder than James thought humanly possible. "I'M NOT MY GRANDFATHER! And you know what?"

He finally turned around.

"You're never going to be yours, either."

James hardly had time to parse the full impact of Scorpius's statement when Rodney lunged at Scorpius. James, already much too close to the action, leapt out of the way – which was fortunate, because Rodney soon had Scorpius pinned to the row of lockers right where James had been sitting. The area got crowded very quickly, with McLaggen and Freddy both working to separate the boys. There were a lot of limbs flying around and James thought he might have seen Rodney throw a punch. In the end, the helpers succeeded, and the two were safely pinned away from each other, when –

"Everte Statum!"

A flash of silver lit the small room and then there was a deafening noise like a cannon going off, followed by the awful, metal-crunchy sound of Asher Rodney slamming back-first into the lockers on his side of the room. Covering his head with his arms, Rodney slumped to the floor in a heap.

"STOP!" Freddy shouted. "GET OUT!"

Freddy shoved Scorpius toward the doorway. He was apoplectic; James hadn't seen him that angry since the Valentine's Social two years ago. That said, he, unlike Scorpius, hadn't managed to produce a wand seemingly from nowhere – so, despite his rage, he could advance no further than the end of the outstretched wooden stick in Scorpius's hand.

"Get out," Freddy repeated. An awful idea, James thought, because Scorpius, judging by his facial expression, had well and truly snapped, and looked ready to curse anyone else that got too close.

"Maybe I should be that bloke you're all so afraid of," Scorpius said. "You bastards obviously don't know the difference anyway, right?"

And with one last venomous scan of the room, Scorpius stormed out.

Rodney, it turned out, was mostly alright, although extremely sore. But he gathered his things and left the locker room by himself, long before Freddy's speech to the team, which was uncharacteristically toothless and essentially amounted to "we were good, but they were better". The rest of the team filed out slowly, until only James and Freddy were left. Freddy didn't say much of anything on his way up to the castle, either. It was obvious he wasn't in the mood to talk – which was fine, because James really wasn't either. Murphy was at the landing just outside the tower.

"Rough day," he said somberly, looking at the large, round window. It appeared that even the weather disapproved of how things had gone; not long after the match ended, it had started raining. Hard.

James could only let out a sigh and approach the window. There was just enough room for him to sit in the windowsill, right up against it, so he did. The window itself was cold; October rains in Scotland were not typically warm rains.

"That's putting it mildly," James said. "I get the feeling we've lost at least one of our players for the year."

"Whoa," Murphy uttered, angling his head. "Somebody get hurt?"

"Malfoy and Rodney had a huge row after the match," James explained. "Well, fight, really. Each one blamed the other for costing us the game… and it basically all went to hell from there."

There was a long, rainy silence.

"Eff this year," James finally muttered. "The whole damn thing. Not even Quidditch is going right…"

The last thing put a lump in his throat as he thought about it; James wasn't entirely prepared for it but managed to swallow it down with a long stare out of the window.

"Albus get back alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, he's fine," Murphy replied. "Lily was with him during the match." As if he knew James would look at him and make a face of surprise in reaction to this news, Murphy didn't break stride: "Temple caught her and started giving them trouble, so I went and got some help."

"Help?" James repeated.

"I think Hagrid was happy to see them," Murphy remarked. With a smirk, he added, "You lot haven't been keeping up your tea appointments. At least Albus has got Care of Magical Creatures this year."

James couldn't smile, but he felt comforted. Hagrid certainly wouldn't have let anybody harass Albus and Lily or keep them from being together, no matter what the rules were. Murphy had made the best move, as always.

"I appreciate it," James said thickly. "Don't know if I ever said that, but…"

"Oh, god, don't get mushy on me, mate," Murphy chuckled. "All part of the plan, right?"

"Plan?" answered James with a bit of a laugh. He knew what Murphy meant – he just couldn't believe he was still going on about it.

"The plan?" repeated Murphy. "You, me, Magical Law Enforcement, a hundred years of peace in Britain, that whole bit?"

It was half dream, half in-joke – lofty grown-up goals from a pair of twelve-year-old boys who knew next to nothing about the world. James was going to become the Head Auror one day, after his father retired. Murphy was going to rise through the ranks of Hit Wizards and have the career his own father never got to finish. Together, they were going to make Britain safe, put down any would-be Dark wizard threats, and give their home country a century of uninterrupted peace, the likes of which hadn't been seen since before Grindelwald.

But that was when they were twelve, could still dream, and were slightly stupid.

"A hundred years of peace in Britain…" James muttered, shaking his head. "Can we try a hundred days of peace at Hogwarts? A hundred hours, at least? That's about a week, right?"

"Just over four days," Murphy calculated with a maddening nonchalance.

"Nerd," James teased, chuckling cynically. "Why didn't you take Arithmancy again?"

"Because Hit Wizards don't need O.W.L.s in Arithmancy," Murphy said simply. "And because Vector's a mad old bat."

"Still feel like it'd be more interesting than History somehow," James pointed out. Murphy laughed in agreement.

"So Louis is on the Ravenclaw team," he commented. "That's a surprise. He always came off to me as a pretty boy that wouldn't want his hair messed up."

"Like you, you mean?" James joked.

"Yeah. Sure," Murphy deadpanned. "So what did you two talk about?"

"Well, he was kinda put out that they didn't let him into the match," James recalled. "He gave me a…"

And, for the first time in several hours, James remembered it. He began fumbling around in his shirt and the pockets of his jeans, fearing that he might have left it in his robes, which were in his locker, which was at the bottom of Hogwarts's hills on the other side of the grounds. Fortunately, when he changed out of his Quidditch uniform, he had somehow remembered to bring the tiny square of parchment with him. He held it in his palm.

"This. He said it was a message, but…"

"A message?" queried Murphy. "From who?"

"Not sure," James admitted. "I think it someone's put a Shrinking Charm on it, so… damn. My wand's back in the dormitory. Have you got yours on you?"

"Yeah," Murphy replied, producing his wand. "En—"

"Whoa, whoa," James stopped him, leaping from the windowsill and replacing himself with the parchment. "I'll just set it down."

"You don't trust my aim by now? Shame, mate," Murphy chuckled. Pointing at the small square of parchment, he incanted, "Engorgio."

An eldritch warble accompanied the spell as the parchment in question stretched to the size of a full leaf. A bit cautiously, James approached it and picked it up. As he sat down again to read it, he immediately noticed several things.

The paper itself was messy. Its texture was uneven, as if it had been wet and then dried in several spots. A corner was missing, and the edge near where the corner would have been was black and brown. Either there had been an accident or whoever wrote the letter had considered destroying it before changing their mind. Lastly, most of the writing – several paragraphs worth – had been scratched through so thoroughly that it was illegible.

What was left was near the bottom, a few sentences.

"If you haven't forgotten me, I think it's time we saw each other," he read. "If that's what you want, I'll be at the Room of Requirement Sunday at noon."

It wasn't signed. That didn't matter. Even if the handwriting was so quickly and unevenly scribbled that it was nearly unrecognizable (had the hand that wrote it been shaking?), the message only made any sort of sense coming from one person.

James was blank for a moment, and it frightened him. Surely, he thought, he should have been feeling something.

"'If you haven't forgotten me'?" he finally repeated. "Why would—"

James knew, of course, he realized as his stomach sank.

"We're going, obviously," Murphy said.

"Tomorrow?" James murmured, his mouth dry. "That's barely any time to get ready..."

"Ready? For what?" Murphy asked.

"For what?" replied James. "I have no idea what I'm going to say."

At this, Murphy chuckled, shaking his head.

"What's so funny?" James bristled.

"It's mad," his best friend replied. "You act like you're meeting her for the first time or something. You've known her for two years. What's so different now?"

"You know what's different." James fumed.

But Murphy shrugged. "But that's not really 'different', is it?"

James frowned and looked away from Murphy.

"You know…" Murphy started again, this time a bit more hesitantly. "I've got a theory. It's a mad theory, but…"

"What's that?" James asked.

"This whole… situation between Gryffindor and Slytherin…" Murphy reasoned. "Have you ever thought that maybe you and Brynne might be the key to stopping it?"

James smiled mirthlessly and, in fact, had to fight down the urge to laugh. It was nothing against Murphy. He meant well; he almost always did. It was just that the idea itself was so… well, ridiculous. If he could bend the entire world to his will like that… this whole thing would have never happened in the first place.

"No, I haven't," he finally said. "Honestly, the more I've thought about it, the more I wonder if the last thing Hogwarts needs is someone like me. We're looking for peace, aren't we? I'm a fighter."

"Yeah. Exactly," Murphy replied simply. "So are the Aurors. So's your dad. Any peace we've ever gotten or kept is because people had the balls to fight the right way for the right things."

"I'm not leading anyone else into danger," said James. But Murphy's face was contorting even as James spoke—

"Damn it, will you stop it with the guilty act?!" he snapped. "You can't control anything doing nothing. Things are going to keep moving with or without you – probably somewhere no one wants them to go. And Brynne… well, you know her better than I do. And I know she hasn't stopped. She won't stop. She'll never stop until she knows it's over. And if she's got to do it alone – if you let her do it alone… you might try to meet her on the other side and realize there's nothing left of her."

The last sentence struck James like a stunning blow to the chest. His senses failed for a moment. He looked straight at Murphy, but then noticed something moving in the background. A pair of unmistakable green eyes were staring back at him. Their owner had been almost in mid-stride.

"Albus?"

A girl's voice called and a girl followed it up the steps. James recognized her instantly, although she had long since changed out of her Quidditch uniform to a raincoat, jeans, and boots. A knit cap in Gryffindor scarlet held her dark hair away from her face. Her brown eyes darted around and settled on James.

"Oh. Hi," Sylvia said, the lack of wind in her proverbial sails obvious by the tone of her voice.

"Hey," James replied awkwardly.

"You haven't seen Scorpius at all, have you?" she queried.

James shook his head. He saw a bit of the air go out of Albus's posture. Sylvia, though, reached over to Albus and gently pulled on his arm without saying a word. Albus glanced again at James. His mouth said nothing but his green eyes delivered a sad discourse. He hated this; he hated all of it. He was trying to put on a strong front so no one would worry, but he was obviously exhausted at holding the façade together. If someone, anyone could do anything…

He and Sylvia departed down the stairs, leaving James to reflect on all that Albus had said without saying.

"I have to, don't I?" he muttered, somewhat to himself. "If there's even the smallest chance that it could help…"

"No," Murphy disagreed, walking over to the wall next to the windowsill where James was seated and leaning back against it. "You don't have to do anything. But you don't want to do nothing, do you?"

James stared down at his hands. Murphy was right.

"What happened?" James finally asked. "With you and Serra? You never told me."

Silence. Of course Murphy wasn't going to give up the goods now, James thought. He hadn't for most of the year.

"I chucked her."

James looked up. Murphy wasn't meeting his eye. James didn't dare press the issue by asking any more questions; this was as much as Murphy had talked about the issue since it had happened.

"Doesn't make sense, does it?" Murphy went on with a joyless chuckle. "I figured you'd be pissed at me, as much as you went through last year."

James frowned. "What's done is done, but… why?"

"I never felt like I'd earned it," Murphy answered after a while. "I know, it sounds stupid… no, it's stupid. It is. It's completely daft. That's not how any of this works."

James was confused. "What?"

Murphy shook his head. "It's one of those things you just have to figure out for yourself. I can't really explain it to you and have you understand it," he said.

James stood at last and took a deep breath.

"That makes no sense, mate."

"I know," Murphy replied simply. "But it will."

Albus

"Every time he decides to go missing, it's raining," Sylvia groused, her voice actually barely audible over the driving squall. Rain was coming down (and sideways) so forcefully that Albus felt himself dampening even in the process of working an Impervius Charm. They'd just learned them recently and this was rather a trial by fire… or by water. "Why'd Tommy decide to send us anyway? Doesn't he know you two haven't been getting on?"

"We're still the closest thing to friends that he has," Albus replied.

"Really?" Sylvia asked. "Temple could've sent some of his bloody goons, right? Vaisey wouldn't do it?"

"Scorpius and Vaisey don't like each other. You know that," Albus countered, trying not to sound too scolding. "Even if they're on the same 'side'… whatever that is."

"Where do you think he would have gone?" asked Sylvia.

Albus raised a hand to shield his eyes at least somewhat from the torrent. A high tower with a spiraling staircase was not far away.

"We might as well check the Owlery first," he suggested.

"I'm going to have to wring my clothes out after this," griped Sylvia. "When we find him, can I kick him in the throat?"

"Probably not," Albus deadpanned.

"'Probably not'?" she repeated. "Means 'maybe so'…"

"No."

"You're no fun."

"I'm plenty fun. I just don't think Scorpius is in a great mood to be kicked in the throat."

"But he deserves it."

Albus sighed heavily.

"It was a joke," Sylvia finally reassured him, draping an arm around his neck. Normally, Albus wouldn't have minded for obvious reasons, but today, it was cold, damp, and uncomfortable. Albus squirmed away a bit. Sylvia got the hint, but her face fell.

"Sorry," Albus remarked aimlessly. "About the match, I mean…"

"Well, you know…" Sylvia murmured, managing a smile. "Can't win 'em all. I mean, you can, it's just bloody difficult. I had fun. Didn't get my hair pulled this time, which is an improvement…"

"You've had that happen to you?" Albus queried. They had reached the steps that led up the Owlery tower.

"Oh, yeah," Sylvia said, cringing. "Last year against Hufflepuff. It hurt like hell."

Albus frowned. "Bad things always happen to you when you get too close to Hufflepuffs. Maybe you should stay away from them."

"You might be right," Sylvia mentioned.

They climbed a few more steps.

"You're not sore about losing?" Albus asked.

"Well, I don't like losing," Sylvia answered. "I hate it. But I still get to play, so it's not the end of the world. I'm just glad I'm alive to do it."

"…I am, too. Glad you're alive, I mean."

"Really? That's good. I was starting to wonder."

"Seriously?"

"No." A laugh. "Hell, no. You're…"

"…What?"

"…Never mind."

Lightning flashed blindingly, making Albus flinch. Thunder guttered overhead in booming cracks as if the heavens were breaking.

"This isn't letting up anytime soon, is it…?" Albus muttered, willing himself to climb the stairs more quickly. Somewhat fortunately, the staircase eventually snaked into the tower itself, giving him and Sylvia relief from the downpour. Unfortunately, it was at this point that Albus realized just how cold the owlery was. He gave an involuntary shiver as he crossed the threshold – so much so that he almost failed to hear the voices:

"Well, since you're such an expert, tell me what the hell I'm supposed to do!" somebody snapped.

A gasp from behind Albus indicated that Sylvia had recognized the voice as well, "That's—"

"Shh," Albus hissed quickly, deciding it was better for him and Sylvia to remain still and not expose themselves too quickly. "He's talking with someone."

"I say, to hell with them," another voice – a girl's – responded carelessly. "To hell with all of them. You don't need them. You don't need to prove anything to them. They want to keep treating you like that, they can find someone else. See how strong their team is without you. I bet they'll be crawling back before long."

"I don't understand you," Scorpius said.

"What's that mean?" the girl's voice asked with a similar flippant tone of voice.

"You have no friends," Scorpius said, rather bluntly. This was punctuated by a gasp from the girl – or maybe it was a laugh. "Nobody likes you. Everybody thinks you're some sort of… mad dark witch in the making that got another chance she didn't deserve. That doesn't bother you at all?"

"No," the girl replied just as bluntly.

"So how do you manage to bring that off?" Scorpius queried, sounding annoyed.

"That's simple," she answered. "I just realized I had to stop caring."

This time, it was Scorpius's turn to chuckle mirthlessly. "Wish I could do that."

"No, you don't." The girl's answer was immediate, yet her voice shook for the first time when she spoke it. "You deserve better than that."

"Do I?" Scorpius asked cynically. "People hate me for existing."

"That doesn't mean there's something wrong with you – those 'people' are effing stupid," the girl replied stubbornly. "People see what it's easiest to see. They're too lazy to think for themselves, most of them. They don't bother with details…"

"Uh…" Suddenly Scorpius's voice turned nervous.

There was a long silence. Then the girl spoke again.

"You're… interesting. I can't drag you down with me, though," she said. "Flipendo!"

There was a thunderous sound, and the walls of the owlery shook. Before Albus could react any further, Sylvia had torn up the stairs past him. He gave a fruitless reach for her arm for a moment before deciding to follow himself.

As he emerged into the chamber, there was a slow-motion moment where Albus had enough time to survey Scorpius, on his feet, next to Lilith Cross, and behind them a shapeless form of something on the ground. At the same time, though, Lilith was already charging up another spell and aiming.

Sylvia swore as she ducked out of the way. There was a crackling noise. White sparks burst from one of the stone bricks dangerously close to her and Albus's heads.

"Don't come any closer!" Lilith warned. Sylvia, well past the point of negotiation, made a move toward her anyway – but then Lilith held aloft a glowing wand and screamed: "I'M NOT JOKING – I'LL HURT YOU!"

Scorpius glanced at Albus and Sylvia for a moment, then intervened. Firmly against her initial resistance, then gently as she calmed and stopped fighting him, he lowered Lilith's wand arm.

"This was your big secret?" Sylvia asked. "Everything you put the lot of us through—"

"I didn't put you lot through anything," Scorpius interrupted coldly. "I thought I was over the fact that I have to explain myself to people over and over. I thought I was alright with it – well, you know what? I'm not! I'm tired and I'm pissed off! Sure, everything's just great as long as I can keep up an act, but let me just drop the ball once. Let me have one bad day or do one thing you don't understand, and it's right back to, 'See? That Malfoy's a piece of shit anyway. I knew he was no good.'"

"Scorpius—" Albus thought he'd be the one trying to calm Scorpius down. But he was hearing Lilith's audible voice layered over his mental voice, and soon realize that his words had gotten lost from his brain on his way to his mouth. It had been a couple of years since he had seen Scorpius like this.

"Fine, so you're frustrated. I get it," Sylvia replied – but judging by her tone, she obviously didn't, Albus thought. "That's still not a good reason to go prancing around with some – some –"

"Some what?" Scorpius snapped.

"You can't tell me you don't know what Godric's Guard really are!" Sylvia exclaimed. "They're—"

"I knowwhat they are, Sylvia. That's why I joined up with them in the first place!" Scorpius snarled. "Vaisey and Temple don't care if you've never pointed a wand at them. You've got the serpent for an emblem, you're an enemy. If you think there's the slightest chance I let one of those two near Lena again without having something to say about it, you're mad."

Silence. That revelation certainly changed things.

"Is that all?" asked Albus. "You could've explained that."

"And you could've just trusted me," Scorpius bit back. "When was I supposed to explain? With the other members staring at me, with you and Rose pointing your bloody wands at my head?"

"You're not helping yourself," Sylvia countered. "First Godric's Guard and now Cross? Of course it's going to look bad if you don't explain yourself to anyone."

"He's got nothing to do with me," Lilith said casually. "We just came across each other by chance. You can have him back if you like."

"What? Screw that," Scorpius immediately protested. "I'm not going with them anywhere."

"Tommy sent us to bring you back to the castle," Albus advised him. "He's trying to do you a favor – if he doesn't see you out here by yourself, he doesn't have to dock Gryffindor any points—"

"You think I give a damn about Gryffindor's points?" Scorpius interrupted. "What the hell do I look like, trying to earn the House Cup for a bunch of people that don't even like me?"

"This is obviously getting us nowhere," Lilith remarked almost airily, with a showy shrug. "So if you don't mind, I'm going to get back to my business – Aculeo!"

Albus and Sylvia both flinched, and so did Scorpius a bit. The spell, however, was not aimed at any of them. Lilith had whirled around and fired it, strangely enough, at the floor. It clearly hit something, though, because the jet of light burst against a surface and made a nasty hissing sound that was followed by a loud scream.

"It wasn't a bad charm," Lilith said, talking to the spot on the floor now, seemingly heedless of anyone else in the room. "You just did a rubbish job keeping yourself hidden. Accio Cloak!"

It was as if a blanket in the exact colors of the stone-and-wood backdrop had been removed. What was now there was a girl, supine, scooting back on her bottom, hands around one knee, wearing a grimace of pain.

Albus stepped forward, barely aware of Sylvia's effort to keep him from doing so. "What are you doing?!"

Scorpius must have registered something abnormal about Albus's mood. His gray eyes flickered toward his fellow Gryffindors and then back toward Lilith, who studied the newcomer and then let out a sigh. She walked slowly over to the girl, who was obviously a bit younger and frightened out of her mind. She kept scooting back until her back was against the wall. The little girl's eyes met Albus's from across the room…

"Don't move," Lilith said without looking at either Albus or Sylvia. "This doesn't have anything to do with you."

Lilith knelt before the little girl, who was obviously either too hurt or too afraid to get up and run. She sucked her teeth three times in an expression of pity. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Adrienne, right?"

The little girl gave a whimper, neither of affirmation nor denial.

"He's a real bastard for putting you in this situation," Lilith said, in a tone Albus guessed she meant to be soothing. However, it wasn't working, to put it mildly. The youngest witch looked near ready to wet herself with fear. "Can't imagine your brother's too happy with him."

An instinct within Albus's gut had taken over again. "You'd better not hurt her!" he warned.

"Hurt her?" Lilith seemed to find the suggestion humorous. "Why would I do that?"

Again, Adrienne tried to scramble away from Lilith. But as she put weight on one of her knees – likely where Lilith had hit her with the Stinging Hex a moment ago – the pain proved to be too great. She let out a whimper and went to her backside again.

"Ooh… that looks bad. Probably all swollen. I wouldn't try walking on it if I were you," Lilith commented in a cloying faux-sympathetic voice. "In fact, it's probably better if you don't move at all." She pointed her wand. "Petrificus Totalus!"

A point-blank white flash erupted from her wand and enveloped Adrienne. When it disappeared, Adrienne was on her side, propped up against the wall in a stiff position that looked extremely uncomfortable.

Scorpius looked horrified, and even paler than usual. "What the hell did you do that for?" He aimed his wand in Adrienne's direction. "Finite—"

"Stop," Lilith implored him, which prompted a silence that was broken only by the uncomfortable and unnerving sound of sobbing from the little girl frozen against the wall. Lilith stood up, backed away a few steps and stared for a moment at the results of her wandwork. "She's spying on me for someone. She's not the first, either. Sometimes it's a prefect, sometimes one of the older students."

"Malcolm," Albus blurted out almost without thinking. Both Sylvia and Scorpius (the latter somewhat despite himself) turned to look at Albus. "You think it's Malcolm."

"You're clever," Lilith answered. Albus wasn't sure whether she was being sarcastic or not. Suddenly, something in Scorpius's eyes glazed over.

"You think Malcolm tried to kill you," he said. "I just remembered."

"What kind of rubbish—" Sylvia uttered, glancing between the other three. "Malcolm's a weirdo for sure. He can be a bit of a prick, frankly. But kill – he wouldn't kill his own students. No teacher would... and not a Hufflepuff from his own house. You know how much he loves that lot…"

"I don't think he wanted me dead," Lilith admitted. "I do think he – or someone – wanted me out of the way."

Silence.

"About the fire…"

"You did it, didn't you?" Sylvia asked.

Slowly, silently, Lilith Cross nodded. There was a pregnant, almost cold sort of pause in the air, during which all that was audible was the rushing torrent outside and the echoing sobs of the cursed girl against the wall.

"You bitch," Sylvia muttered shakily.

Sylvia drew her wand. Albus knew his instinct should have been to stop her. This time, though, he didn't move a muscle.

Scorpius did, though.

"Stop," he implored her, forcing himself in front of Lilith – an action that, judging by her expression, Lilith did not expect. "That's not the whole story. Are you going to let her finish or what?"

"No, I'm not," Sylvia answered. "Get out of the way."

"That's exactly your problem!" Scorpius exclaimed suddenly. "You've all got your bloody minds made up already and you won't let anyone else talk!"

"What excuse could someone possibly have for what she did?!" Sylvia argued. "Albus almost died! I almost died! Hell, you almost died! Why are you defending her?!"

"I've got… this theory…" Scorpius replied weakly. This only served to anger Sylvia all the more. She scoffed.

"A theory," she said. "You're selling your friends out because of 'a theory.' You know what?"

She raised her wand again.

Albus heard a scream from… somewhere. Sylvia was seeing red, not paying attention. Albus himself reacted, though – he whirled around just in time to see a girl emerging into the room from the staircase.

"Flipendo!" the voice of a witch cried. Sylvia was just now looking over her shoulder – not fast enough. Albus dove between Sylvia and the caster…

It was like a punch to the ribs. His wind left him. His senses went haywire and his world blurred with pain and motion. Strong hands braced around his chest and kept him from falling. An arm that did not belong to him extended from out of his torso, holding a wand, firing a spell.

Albus got enough of a look at the new black-haired girl on the other end of the spell and let out a gasp.

The black-haired girl cringed in anticipation for the hit, but a whirl of black robes thrust its way into the spot and shouted an incantation. A dome of wispy light flashed into appearance for a second as the spell from Albus's end was deflected and sparked harmlessly against a nearby wall.

Of the two new wizards that appeared, the one in the hood and black robes, who had cast the last spell, appeared to be weakened by their own efforts. They crumpled to a kneel.

Just when the action appeared to be over, a third wizard – a lank-haired boy Albus recognized – leapt into the room, surveying everything. He went over to the black-robed figure.

"Again?" he asked. "You need to stop doing that."

But the black-robed mage shrugged him off. "I'm fine," she – at least by voice she was a 'she' – replied a bit stubbornly. She stood, with a bit of difficultly.

"Ants in a flooding colony," she remarked, seemingly apropos to nothing. "That's what we've been turned into."

And then, she lowered her hood.