Chapter 23: Pound of Flesh

"Why the hell," Sylvia chattered sourly, drawing her winter cloak more tightly around herself and punctuating the action with a shudder, "do we still have to take the carriages up to the castle when it's this bloody cold? You'd think after all these years they would have thought of something else that didn't involve us freezing half to death."

"Why didn't you use the charm Professor Gladstone taught us?" Hugo, a cap over his curly head of hair, asked. "Caloranus?"

"Caloramus," Sylvia corrected him. Then, flippantly, she added, "The other one gives you the bum-squirts."

Rose was sitting across from them, and hadn't said much of anything the entire trip. At this, though, she visibly rolled her eyes and looked out of the window with a scowl.

Hugo's head jerked and made a face as well, indicating that he was disgusted but also intrigued. "How do you know that?" he asked.

Sylvia gave a grin that then turned into a grimace. "I may or may not have botched that spell in our first year…"

Albus's face fell. He knew exactly the incident to which Sylvia was referring. And he knew the exact person that had been on the wrong end. Just thinking about the name and face made his blood boil so much that he no longer even felt the cold as the students walked in a large, huddled pocket toward the Hogwarts entrance courtyard.

James and Scorpius, of course, had been punished severely for their role in the incident last term. But what had happened to them had paled in comparison to what had been done with Eamonn Temple and Stephan Vaisey (he felt his entire body tighten again as the names passed through his mind.) Temple had been stripped of his Prefect badge, and both he and Vaisey had been placed on House exile for the rest of the year. They were no longer allowed in Gryffindor Tower. Not only did this not seem harsh enough as far as Albus was concerned, but in Vaisey's case in particular, it almost seemed downright merciful.

Albus wasn't sure if Scorpius could have brought himself to murder someone. He was fairly sure, however, that if Vaisey had been allowed to sleep under the same roof as the both of them, that Scorpius would have had a go at one point, even with the proverbial sword of Damocles over his head. For that matter, Albus himself wasn't sure he wouldn't have tried it at this point. He hadn't seen Vaisey anywhere other than classes. He obviously wouldn't be daft enough to try anything in front of a teacher, but if he ran across him in the hallways…

Albus, as a general rule, didn't hate many people. It was a very short list. But these two, he did. Even then… it wasn't revenge he wanted. He wasn't like Rose. He wanted something deeper than that…

His eyes started scanning the sea of faces. It was difficult in the dark like this.

"Are you looking for James?" Sylvia noticed his investigative body language.

"No," Albus replied. "Someone else."

"Well, good luck," Sylvia answered. "It's pitch black until we get to the…"

"...bridge," Albus finished. They were coming up on it. An expanse that seemed unnecessarily long and narrow. Albus had been across a few times before and didn't particularly love glancing over the edges. The castle itself was built on a promontory, and between that and the path that led to the carriages was a covered bridge that served as a choke point. Walking three students shoulder-to-shoulder was a close thing, and nearly impossible if one of them was particularly wide. Over the edges, if one were so unfortunate, was one hell of a drop into the icy waters below.

"Y'know, me cousin blew up this bridge once," a young boy's Irish-brogued voice rang in the dim light a few paces in front of Albus.

"Quit yankin' my wand," another boy replied. "Really? He didn't get into awful trouble?"

"Nope. In fact, it was the professors that told him to do it," the boy replied proudly. "It was back at the Battle of Hogwarts. A whole mess of Death Eaters and beasts were trying to cross so they had him rig up the bridge, sent Professor Longbottom across as a decoy, lured 'em all on, and then - BLAMMO!" He yelled. A young witch jumped and let out a squeal. "Smithereens."

"Merlin's balls," the other boy chuckled, with the characteristic furtive naughtiness of a young boy using a mild oath. "Speaking of Professor Longbottom, I heard he was maybe coming back - but I haven't seen him."

"I thought his baby girl was ill," a girl's voice mentioned. Albus couldn't see her face from here but she had the slightest hint of an accent that he didn't recognize.

"She's all better now, I thought," the story-telling boy - Albus could've sworn he remembered his name but apparently not - answered.

The girl sighed. "I miss him."

"We know why," chuckled the story-telling boy.

"Eff off, Gil," the girl replied huffily.

"Ooh, saucy," Gil laughed. "Not sure your dad would be so keen on hearing you talk like that."

"I'm a witch, so there's not much more I could do to offend him," the girl replied with a bit of a bitter laugh.

"Really?" the other boy piped in. "Your parents don't like that you're a witch? Mine were actually pretty chuffed when they found out."

"It's different for us, Ethan," the girl explained, her voice turning sad. "If I'd been born where my parents came from, there might've been a mob at our door waiting to kill me. ...It's a religious thing."

"Wow, that's intense," Ethan replied. "But isn't that bloke that teaches Ancient Runes from there, too?"

"Professor Halim? No, he's from Egypt," the girl replied. "It's not exactly the same. They're a little bit different there. Actually, one of the oldest wizarding schools in the world that's still standing is in Egypt. I bet that's where he went."

"Wonder how he ended up all the way in Britain?" queried Gil.

"No idea," the girl answered. "Wish I could take Ancient Runes so I could ask him, but I don't think you can until third year."

"Um… 'scuse me." Hugo started to pull ahead.

"Hugo, where are you going?" questioned Rose, sounding a bit panicked at her brother's sudden departure. But he was gone already, having slid and jostled his way through the throng of walking students toward the front.

The last thing Albus heard of him was a call of "Khalilah!"

Sylvia opened her mouth to say something to Rose but Albus looked at her quickly. "Don't say it."

Sylvia looked at Albus, closed her mouth, and pouted.

Albus couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief when they emerged on the other side of the covered bridge into more open space. The entrance courtyard was surrounded by a stone colonnade. The ground below them was partially paved with a cross of stone that divided four patches of grass that appeared unnaturally verdant for midwinter. Students were supposed to be heading toward the Great Hall, but it didn't appear as if any of them were in any particular hurry. Many were greeting classmates they had not seen in several weeks (some more enthusiastically than others, Albus noted as he caught sight of an older pair of students against one of the columns). Albus averted his eyes and tried to look in the other direction, only to find Sylvia staring right at him. Or maybe through him.

"Uh…" Albus uttered awkwardly. Sylvia nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Nothing!" she exclaimed, now very decidedly not meeting Albus' eyes. "Never mind."

Albus angled his head in confusion. What the hell was that?

"Cory!" a slightly familiar-sounding voice shouted from somewhere out of Albus' field of vision. Albus whirled around in that direction and discerned the reddish-blond hair of his younger cousin, Louis, currently embracing a Black boy Albus was reasonably sure was surnamed Nicks. They broke their hug, then engaged in a handshake of sorts that took roughly six seconds and was absurdly convoluted. They crossed to where the paved paths met in the center of the courtyard, but someone else was coming at them from the side -

Louis and Cory were bumped, nearly to the ground, as a much larger student ploughed into them, seemingly heedless of their presence.

"C'mon, mate," Louis growled with more than a dash of irritation.

The older boy whirled around.

"Don't 'c'mon, mate' me. Watch where you're going next time," he sneered, glowering down at the two smaller lads.

Albus knew that voice.

"No," he heard escape his lips. He broke into a brisk walk, then a run. He heard Sylvia call for him, but she might have well been a mile away now for as little as he could hear her over the blood pounding in his ears.

"Hey." Albus called loudly, approaching the small altercation. Louis stumbled aside and called his name in surprise, but Albus didn't address him. He only had eyes for one person at the moment. "Hey. Temple."

"I don't have an issue with you, Potter," Eamonn Temple replied with a scowl. "Get out of it."

"No," Albus answered briskly. Meanwhile, to his left he heard something of a row happening:

"Geroff!"

"Don't be an idiot! You're gonna get yourself expelled!"

He recognized the two voices - ignored those, too.

"Apologize to Louis," Albus said. Oddly, he noticed right at that exact moment that his voice had stopped cracking on him during times of high stress. What a weird thing to notice in this situation...

"Or what?" asked Temple. "Seriously, Potter, mind your business."

"I am," Albus answered. Then, he repeated himself. "Apologize to Louis."

"Hey, Al, it's fine," Louis remarked, clearly unnerved by what he probably saw as Albus not acting like himself.

"No, it's not," Albus replied without looking at his younger cousin. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw other students in the courtyard beginning to gather and look. He glanced at Temple again. "Apologize to Louis."

"No," Temple replied simply. Then, with a scoff, he asked, "What'll happen if I don't? What's ickle baby Potter going to do about it? I'll tell you what - nothing. He's not gonna do a damn thing."

Albus made to respond, but was cut off when something wet and sloppy hit him below his eye. He froze, realizing what it was as it slid down his cheek, and the next thing that issued forth from Temple's mouth were words that Albus heard but barely perceived. Temple was right in front of him but his voice might as well have been from fifty feet away, echoing down a tunnel.

"You're an ungrateful berk, you know that? If it wasn't for me, your sister would've got tuned up the same way Hugo Weasley did-"

"EVERTE STATUM!"

He pulled the wand from the sheath on his left hip and fired the spell in one motion, hitting Temple dead center in the chest and knocking him off his feet and high into the air. Gasps rang through the courtyard, and whoever hadn't been looking before, certainly was now.

There was a scuffle behind him - then the loud, sharp sound of a slap and a yell. Then, Rose's voice followed: "Expelliarmus! I'LL HEX YOU SIDEWAYS, BITCH! STAY BACK!"

"OI! Cut it out!" another voice shouted - one that Albus vaguely recognized as familiar, but couldn't place.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Albus heard Rose incant. But he dared not look behind him to check to see how much damage his cousin was causing - much less with Temple rising to his feet to level his wand.

The burly former Prefect looped his arm a bit -

"Locomotor Mortis!"

Albus recognized the incantation, knew by the nature of the spell where it would be aimed, and sidestepped it, as a red spark burst against the ground, bringing up dust and stone fragments.

"Vermillious!" he shouted in reply. A jet of brilliant red light burst forth from his wand tip, enveloping Temple in a shower of sparks. It staggered him slightly, but he did not buckle.

"Vermillious? Really? First-year bollocks," Temple spat disdainfully. Then he aimed his wand. "Vermillious Tria!"

His brother's voice: "AL, MOVE!"

A blast of red light about the diameter of a fist shot toward Albus quicker than thought. Even if he had known a counter, he hadn't had enough time. Searing pain shot through his chest as the spell made impact. He felt his feet teeter and the one thought that consumed him as he felt himself being forced backward was that he could not lose the ground. If he lost the ground, he was on his arse. And if he was on his arse, this had all been a waste. So the spell drove him back, back, back, eating into his chest and shoulder. Until finally, it guttered. He was still standing, and his torso still in one piece, though smoking and lain partially bare to the chill January night air by the spell having burned a chunk through his robes, jacket, and shirt.

There was a lull, a moment of silence.

"Bloody hell - he hardly flinched!" an astonished voice sounded. Temple seemed frozen in surprise for a moment, too, probably sure that the duel had been over. Now, though, he was several feet away. Just where Albus wanted him.

"Vermillious Tria!" Temple fired the same spell again - but at this distance, Albus could sidestep it. He started to back away but then felt himself hit someone, who braced his fall.

Backed into a corner, he jumped forward stuck out his wand, hoping his first time ever trying this spell would work: "Protego!"

Temple's jinx shot off what looked like a flickering barrier and into the air (bursting like a firework), but not before putting Albus to his bum. He took a breath, feeling suddenly faint as the world around him spun horribly for a second…

He felt a sting in his ankle. He looked down. A rope had coiled itself around it.

"Carpe retractum!" Temple's voice called.

A split-second after Albus realized what was going to happen, he was flying forward, dangerously fast and feet-first, thankfully off the ground where the stony pavement couldn't grind the skin off his back. Arms flailing, he took wild aim at his rope captor: "Diffindo!"

There was a tearing sound and Albus's foot came back with the short end of the now-split rope, whilst the long side fell limply to the ground between himself and Temple, who was preparing another spell. He looped his wand again. Albus sat up.

"Aculeo!"

"AAAAAAARGH!"

Albus was quicker this time. He'd sent a Stinging Hex at one of Temple's knees. Stinging Hexes were a minor type of curse that weren't the most painful thing in the world of wizards by which to be hit. As their name implied, they typically caused a red welt or swelling on the skin wherever they made contact. However, to an especially sensitive area, like a joint, they could be one hell of a bother. Temple hissed as his gait went lopsided and unsteady. That knee was starting to blow up like the devil as soon as Albus had cast the hex successfully. In a matter of seconds, Albus knew, Eamonn Temple wouldn't be able to move much, if at all.

He hopped on his one good leg, overbalanced, and nearly fell as he staggered back toward the short stairs that led into the breezeway.

Albus started toward him slowly, unsure of what to do now that he had Temple in a weakened state. He hadn't planned that far ahead. Someone had, though:

"Albus, finish him off!" A shrill shout came from behind him. This made Albus hesitate. Was that really what he wanted to do? He had made his point, right? Or maybe, he hadn't quite yet…

He raised his wand slowly, indecisively.

Much too much of either of those things.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Albus heard the yell, but it was too late. He felt an invisible vice snap his legs together and his arms to his sides all in one motion. His wand clattered to the stone pavement. And all too slowly, he started to teeter backward.

"Immobulus!" a girl's voice cried.

His body froze again, locked in place from another angle. Awkwardly, he was doing something that was neither standing nor lying nor floating, but somewhere in between all three, with nothing attached to the ground except his heels.

And to his horror, he watched as an auburn-haired girl walked past him.

"That was a cheap shot," Rose said furiously.

"I was just…. defending myself," Temple huffed breathlessly, clearly tired from all of the exertion. "He's the one... who attacked me... first."

"This whole year," Rose said loudly, advancing on him, "you haven't done a damn thing with that badge you had except bully my family and make our lives difficult."

Temple hissed. "Get bent. I'm not begging you or anybody else for mercy."

Rose breathed a mirthless laugh. "Do you have any idea how much I hate you?"

Temple breathed heavily, still staggering on a knee that was growing worse and worse by the second. "I don't care."

Rose's next words were short and menacing. "You will."

"Rose, don't," is what Albus wanted to say - but his mouth, like everything else on him, was frozen in place by two different spells. All he could manage was a whimper. Rose heard it and glanced at him for a second, but immediately turned her head back toward Temple.

"Isn't your mum Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?" asked Temple, obviously hoping this would get Rose to reconsider.

"You think that helps you in this situation?" Rose asked. "You attacked her son."

Albus could see Temple's face lose a bit of color. Maybe because of pain (he teetered dangerously on that knee again), but maybe because of fear.

"You're screwed," Rose said, her voice chillingly tranquil, almost emotionless. "Maybe, if you've got a shred of remorse, I won't do anything you can't come back from."

Silence.

"Didn't figure as much." Her lip curled in an uncharacteristically ugly expression. Temple raised his wand.

"Vermilious-"
"Expelliarmus!"

Rose's incantation was quicker, and her spell swatted the wand from Eamonn Temple's hand before he finished.

"Pugnus Maxima!"

Rose thrust her wand forward. The air in front of Temple's body distorted. He coughed and doubled over, as if struck. Rose slashed her wand again, and this time a dull thud echoed across the courtyard. Temple's head snapped to the left and then his body followed, spinning and staggering all the way around in a circle, looking for a moment like he had lost his balance and might pass out on the spot.

When Temple looked up again, the cheekbone underneath one of his eyes was visibly swollen and quickly turning a nasty indigo color, and there were streaks of dark red around his lips and jawline that could have only been blood from a busted lip. Rose advanced on him slowly, a very disturbing look in her eye. And it was at this point that Temple finally seemed to concede to the weakened position he was in, as he limped backward, making odd movements with his hands. They clenched into fists for a moment, but then seemed to open, palms out toward Rose in what looked like a wordless suggestion of mercy, if not a plea for it.

But if Temple had seen the expression on her face the same way Albus had on that terrible evening a couple of months past, he would have known already; any pleas for mercy at this point, wordless or otherwise, were doomed to fall on deaf ears. She raised her wand again, and began to circle it.

Rose, stop it, Albus thought desperately, the hexes he was under rendering him unable to speak. He's Disarmed, it's over…

She began to draw small circles in the air with her wand, still training it upon Temple's torso. "You're a coward. And now I'm going to snap you in half. Ponderus-"

"Alright, that's enough!"

A loud, commanding voice rang - probably rather fortunately, because whatever spell Rose had been about to cast didn't sound the least bit innocent. Temple was leaning against one of the columns closest to the stairs and had to hop out of the way as a fully-grown wizard man with blond hair and a beard descended the handful of stairs at a bit of a jog. "All of you, into the Great Hall! You shouldn't be messing around out here to start with!"

Students moved toward the entrance to the breezeway as if prodded in their respective bums by hot pokers. By the time the man emerged from the throng of bodies moving in the opposite direction, Temple was gone as well, leaving only him in front of them.

Slowly, Professor Neville Longbottom approached them, drawing a wand.

"Finite Incantatem," he said. Albus wasn't entirely prepared to be released from his magic bonds at that moment and had no balance as he staggered backward on his heels and then, yes, eventually did wind up landing on his bum. A second later, a pair of arms were on his shoulders from behind.

"Are you alright?" a girl's voice asked. Hearing it, Albus wasn't sure whether to feel pride or shame.

He looked up at her. Her eyes were wide, and her lip smeared with blood. Instantly, a pang of regret shot through him as he realized what the sounds behind him had been. He turned to look behind her and saw Neville approaching a boy lying on the ground, rigid as a board.

"That idiot," Sylvia intoned. "He should have known better."

Neville uttered the countercurse again, and the boy sat up, revealing a shag of curly brown hair that Albus recognized.

"Are you hurt, Mr. McLaggen? And be honest - I know how you are," Neville added.

"I'm fine," he answered, jumping to his feet and shooting a glare in Albus's direction before turning one on Rose.

"Don't look at me like that," she shot back, almost disdainfully. "You'll get worse next time-"

"Rose, that's enough," Neville interrupted, the tone of his voice now just on the edge of dangerous. "Desmond, hurry up and get out of here. You too, Sylvia." Sylvia left Albus's side started to walk, but not before glancing back at Albus with an unreadable expression. This finally left Albus and Rose alone with Neville. He glanced at each of them in turn. "You both come with me."

Albus had never seen much of Neville's office before, save for once or twice when asking for help with a particularly tricky Herbology assignment. Even then, it had been little more than once or twice. Albus typically had a decent handle on Herbology. It was probably his best subject, behind Potions.

Rose flumped into the chair next to him and folded her arms, cocking her head defiantly as she and Albus both watched Neville calmly assumed his own seat across from them.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit disappointed with you two," he finally spoke after an uncomfortably long silence. "I didn't think either of you - especially you, Albus - were the type to attack another student without provocation…"

"Without provocation," Rose repeated as if incredulous, and the glare she was throwing Neville probably would have atomized a lesser man. "'Without provocation.'" She laughed one of those mirthless laughs that had become uncomfortably characteristic lately. Albus shifted to the far side of his chair, not entirely comfortable now with his proximity to her.

Neville visibly grimaced and kneaded the bridge of his nose.

"That was… that probably wasn't the best choice of words, admittedly," he conceded. "I understand you two are upset. I can't even say you don't have a right to be. But as a Hogwarts Professor… I'm obligated to protect every student within these walls. Even him. Even from you and the rest of your family. The school's dealt with the situation. Potters and Weasleys going after Mr. Temple and Mr. Vaisey, everyone collecting their pound of flesh - that's not going to be how this plays out. It can't be. Not under my watch."

"Then you should have thrown the both of them out," spat Rose, not looking at him. "Or, you should have been here, and none of this would have ever happened…"

For the first time since that night, Albus saw Rose's hard facade crack. She blinked rather rapidly, pointedly not looking at either him or Neville, and her hands gripped the armrests so hard her fingers left dents in the scarlet-dyed leather.

"Are you saying you think you or anyone else here at this school is more entitled to me than my own wife and daughter?" Neville asked.

"So you're saying what you owe your family is more important than what you owe Hogwarts?" Rose snapped back. "But I guess until you're a certain age, that's completely wrong, isn't it?"

"No," Neville uttered patiently, "what I'm saying is -"

"Just stop talking and give me whatever punishment you were thinking about," Rose cut across him. "...Hypocrite."

"Rose…" Albus muttered, taking a look at Neville's face. He looked genuinely wounded.

The professor swallowed hard. "Fifty points from Gryffindor - and you'll be serving detention next Saturday and Sunday. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to speak to Albus alone."

Rose did not need telling twice; she pushed herself up from her chair and left the room, throwing the door open forcefully. Albus expected it to slam behind her as she departed, but the room-rattling sound he anticipated, never came. Instead, the door to Neville's office stood there ajar and silent, which was almost more awkward. Neville raised his wand. "Cludo." The door swung shut gently enough.

Neville set his wand down on the table and heaved a sigh.

"Rose isn't a bad person. I know that," he answered. "But she's had problems managing her emotions for as long as I've known her. Between what happened back in the fall and all of what's going on with her mother… I wasn't expecting something like this to happen, but I'd also be lying if I said I was shocked. I think she'll be fine in the end, once everything calms down a bit."

Albus didn't say this aloud, but Neville was much more optimistic about that than Albus himself was.

"You, though…" Neville went on. He shook his head. "I've never known you to pick fights with anyone. Even in this situation, I thought you'd keep your composure."

Albus's face changed. He felt bile at the back of his throat.

"In all seriousness, Albus. Are you okay?" Neville queried. Then, to drive the point home, he leaned over the table and added, "I'm not asking you this as your Professor and Head of House. I've never seen you like this before."

Silence.

"...You said you thought I would keep my composure," Albus answered. "What you really meant is, 'you didn't expect me to fight back.'"

"Albus…" Neville replied uncomfortably. "It's -"

But Albus shook his head. "It's alright. Nobody does. But you weren't here to see Lily. She had nightmares all through the holidays. Then, if that weren't bad enough, he tries to push my cousin Louis around. And he spat in my face. He literally laughed at me and spat in my bloody face, after all he's done already. And everyone just expects me to sit there and take it because it's all I ever do."

Neville exhaled through his nose sadly. "I think a lot of people admire your kindness, Albus. You don't have to go out of your way proving to them how hard you are."

"Sometimes you have to fight back - just so everybody knows you can and will," Albus answered. "I thought you of all people would understand that."

There was a moment's pause - then Neville let out an utterance, a sighing groan that sounded almost like an expression of disgust. "Twenty-five points from Gryffindor and a detention," he said. "And no more of this. Stay away from Vaisey and Temple, you understand?"

"Sure," Albus replied. That would be easy enough, he thought. It was only sheer bad luck - or good luck, depending on one's point of view - that he'd run across Temple in the courtyard to begin with. As long as they didn't continue to mess with him and his, they wouldn't have anything to worry about.

"Haven't spoken with your mum and dad in a while," Neville commented next. "How are they doing?"

"Alright," answered Albus. "Are Alice and Ms. Hannah well?"

"Well enough," Neville replied, finally betraying a hint of a smile. "Hannah wasn't thrilled about me coming back, but she understood. With the Headmaster already gone, Hogwarts can only afford to miss so many teachers."

Albus, with a bit of a cringe, asked, "...You're not going to write to him about this, are you?"

"If I had to write to parents every time a Hogwarts student had a scrap, I'd never get around to teaching," Neville said, the wry smile never leaving his face. "Now… if you want to get back into the tower quietly, I suggest you get moving. I expect the rest of the students will be done with supper soon. The password's anno novum."

Albus nodded and stood. It was a good thing, he thought, that Neville wasn't seeking to make him feel shame for his actions. Albus felt regret, but only the type of regret that came from having to choose the lesser of two evils. In his estimation, that was what he had done. But as he went to reach for the door, he heard Neville's voice again.

"Albus."

His hand had gripped the doorknob, but he stopped and turned around.

"There's more value in being yourself than you think," he said. "People are watching you."

Albus didn't understand this in the least bit, so he simply nodded in agreement and exited, trying to figure out what Neville meant on the way back up to the Gryffindor common room.

"Back so soon?" sang the Fat Lady.

"Anno novum," Albus deadpanned, not particularly in the mood for a conversation.

"Alright, alright, I was just trying to be personable," she crooned huffily as her portrait turned aside to let the way in.

He glanced around. The common room was completely empty. Just as well, he thought. This way he could disappear into his dormitory without much fuss. He made his way across the common room, and up the stairs, to the top half of the tower. A lion's head grew forth from the wooden door, underneath a gold-inlaid plate that read: "THIRD YEARS." Albus turned the knob and entered.

The room, he only noticed properly today, seemed much, much bigger with one of the four-poster beds missing. Even the castle, Albus thought, seemed to recognize that Stephan Vaisey was no longer welcome here. He was just about to muse about how very empty their dormitory would appear with only three beds, when he noticed that the fourth bed was occupied at its edge.

A sharp intake of breath came from the boy sitting there. His silvery-blond hair, almost white in the moonlight filtering in from outside, was wild in a disturbing, disturbed sort of way. It looked almost as if he'd been -

As if to answer Albus's question, the boy reached his hands up to his head, took handfuls of his platinum locks, and pulled, taking in shuddering, sobbing breaths. A guttural groan escaped him. He looked - and sounded - to be in agony.

"Scorpius."

Instantly, the boy jumped to his feet, producing a wand and leveling it at Albus's chest. There was a madness in his gray eyes, which had bags under them on a face that had gone pale and waxy, save for the streaks under his eyes. Sadly, Albus recognized two things immediately. Scorpius had been crying, first off. Second, he hadn't slept well recently - as in 'several days' recently.

"What do you want?" Scorpius Malfoy growled, still pointing his wand at Albus. Albus didn't flinch. He both knew Scorpius wasn't really going to hex him (he would have done it already) and, frankly, wasn't entirely sure Scorpius could bring off a proper spellcasting wand motion to begin with as badly as his hand was shaking.

"I thought you were staying home," Albus commented.

"I was. Obviously, things changed," Scorpius snarled bitterly. "Not like it's any of your business."

"...What happened?"

This was a bad question to ask.

"Shut up!" Scorpius wailed, trying to reinforce his grip on his outstretched wand - an action that made his hand shake even more violently. "Shut the hell up! And stay over there!"

Rather quickly, this had turned frightening. Albus slid backwards through the space between their two beds, until he was up against one of the four posters of his own. Trying to stay calm, Albus sat down atop his bed, not even looking Scorpius in the eyes in order to present as little threat as possible.

Things went silent, save for Scorpius's heavy, ragged breathing.

Albus swallowed. "Thank you."

"For what?" Scorpius's tone was still aggressive.

"You know what," Albus replied. "I should have said something then. And I'm sorry."

"You think that makes me feel any better?" Scorpius said through his teeth. "Well, it bloody doesn't. Nothing… nothing…"

He repeated the last word over and over again, starting at a murmur and increasing in volume and urgency each time.

"Nothing, nothing, NOTHING!" he began yelling. He whirled around, pulled at his hair again. Then, rather alarmingly, he walked straight to the wall, slammed his forehead against it twice and then punched it with a clenched fist.

Then, his violent motions stopped. His fists unclenched, his wand falling to the floor with a clatter… and he slumped against the wall, his body racking soundlessly.

Lily

Lily's eyes shot open as she heard the stifled cry. In reflex, she sat bolt upright. After the moment or two that it took for her to realize where she was, she threw the covers off herself. Pale ankles, feet, and toes peeked forth from the ends of emerald pyjama pants dotted with golden-skinned, golden-winged, golden-haired ladies with clawed talons at the end of feathered legs.

"No ropes…" she whispered to herself, barely coherent, and she flopped back onto her pillow. An uncomfortable, cold dampness at the back of her neck prompted her to rise again, though. On her green-cased pillow was a rather prominent stain. She ran a hand across her own face to find it damp as well. She had been sweating rather a lot - and it could not have been because of heat. She had typically found Slytherin's dungeons rather cold.

She sat there for a moment, closing her eyes, listening to her own heart, which was thumping in her ears. Her breaths were heavy and labored, her face and red hair still dripping sweat. She felt like she'd been running for miles. Even her legs felt a bit sore.

"Lily?"

A small whispered voice called her from across the room once, then again.

"Lily?"

She opened her eyes and peered out into the dark-blue dimness of the room. Reaching around off the edge of her bed, she found something long and hard and her hands closed around it.

"Lumos," she whispered. The end of her wand shone brilliantly, giving just enough light for Lily to see the form opposite her.

A girl about her age with lank, dark hair that favored one shoulder, was sitting with her legs crossed at the very foot of her bed.

"Are you alright?" the girl asked. Lily didn't talk to her much. She seemed nice enough, but there was something sad in her voice that made her hard to listen to for very long. Whenever she talked, that is. That wasn't often. This had to have been the first time Lily had heard Ophelia Bode speak since before the holidays.

Lily was too flummoxed by the fact that Ophelia was up and trying to speak to her, to actually answer the question.

"I heard you yell out. Was it a bad dream?" Ophelia asked at a whisper. "...I have them too, sometimes."

Lily wasn't sure whether to feel better about it now or not. Almost unconsciously, she glanced at the four-poster next to hers. Karyn Harper was sleeping soundly. Lily's face fell, unable to resist being a touch envious at Karyn and frustrated at herself. Things had been going well after she'd gone back home. But now, her first night back in the castle…

"Do you know what time it is?" Lily queried, not willing to discuss the nightmare.

"About quarter of six, I think," answered Ophelia.

Lily heaved a sad sigh; quarter of six was just barely too late to try to fall asleep again without risking oversleeping. She had class early that morning.

She left her dormitory for the washrooms to shower, returned to dress, and departed again, this time for the common room, where she intended to sit in front of the hearth and try to stay awake until the Great Hall opened for breakfast at seven. To her great surprise, however, the couch was already occupied by a girl staring into the fire. She had short, curly hair of a jet black that fell in ringlets over one of her two green eyes. Lily recognized her.

"Lena… right?"

The girl jumped, clearly not having expected a visitor.

"Lily," she said. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Couldn't sleep," Lily replied. Lena glanced at her sadly. Then she shifted sideways on the couch - a wordless invitation for Lily to join her. Lily obliged.

"Are you worried about your brother?" asked Lena. "For what it's worth, I don't think he got expelled."

"What?" uttered Lily. What had James done this time? Lena turned to her.

"You weren't there?" she asked.

"I saw James in the Great Hall at the feast yesterday. He seemed fine," Lily replied.

"Not James - Albus," Lena said. "Albus got into a duel with…." Lena stopped mid-sentence, her eyes darting away from Lily as if reluctant to name the person in her presence. "...with somebody."

"Where did you hear that?" Lily asked incredulously. "Al doesn't duel."

"Well, he did yesterday," Lena replied. "And I didn't hear about it. I saw it."

Lily's heart punched her in the chest from within as the realization hit her that she hadn't seen Albus or Rose at the feast that day. Granted, the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables were still set up on opposite sides of the Great Hall from each other. Still, Rose and Albus were typically together with that girl Albus fancied, Sylvia. Her, Lily had seen - but Sylvia was more or less by herself (although she'd found a seat near Freddy), which was very unusual.

Albus and Rose were typically rather easy to find. But Lily had not found them.

"If they didn't expel Steph…" Lena trailed off.

Lily hadn't seen much of Lena since… then. But she knew several people about whom Lily was curious.

"Was…" she started. Then, not knowing how to phrase or tone the question, she shook her head. "Never mind."

"What is it?" Lena replied.

Lily shook her head. "You haven't been hanging out with Brynne or the rest of us."

"I can't," Lena replied immediately. "It's just… it's all a bit much. And maybe I'm weak for that, but I don't know what to do. To watch someone you care about so much turn into… well, you've seen as much of him as I have."

Lena paused.

"God, I'm sorry," she gasped, looking straight at Lily. "I didn't mean to remind you…"

Lily shook her head. "Not like I can just forget if no one talks about it," she answered. The nightmares that had come back, after all, had started not long after that day in the first place. "So, you… know one of them?"

Lily knew that already, of course, from listening to Lena and Brynne talk for the past several months. She was just curious as to what Lena would say in reply.

"I did," replied Lena. Then, with a sad glance away from Lily, she added, "I thought I did."

"You were friends once, weren't you?" queried Lily.

"I… yeah," Lena stammered. "Friends. Ever since we were babies. But…"

She trailed off again. "But what?" Lily prodded.

Lena smiled. "Nothing," she said. "Every time I listen to it in my head, it sounds stupid now."

"...What's stupid?" Lily queried. "Did you like him or something?"

Lena shook her head. "More than that."

This caught Lily off guard. More than that? What could possibly be more than that?

"I, um…" Lena laughed again. "When I was a little girl and… maybe later, when I wasn't so little anymore… I always thought… well, hoped… Steph would ask me out at some point at school and then, when we were old enough… that we'd get married."

Lily raised both eyebrows. "Married?" she uttered. "But you've got to be at least seventeen, right?"

"Well, of course. But I didn't want to wait much longer than that because I'm not sure how -"

She stopped suddenly and then stared at Lily, seemingly realizing that she'd said more than she had originally intended. But now Lily was curious, and Lena also seemed to realize that she could not now leave her thought unfinished.

So, she gazed out at the fire and, with a sad smile, declared, "I'm not sure how long I'll have."

Lily was completely thrown off by this. "What?" she uttered. "That… that doesn't make sense. My godmother was already thirty before she got married, and that's still not old."

"Well, what if I don't make thirty?" Lena asked.

Silence. The crackling fire. Lily put two and two together.

"Is something wrong?" she asked. "Are you ill?"

Lena's black curls undulated as she shook her head. "Not exactly. I mean, not now. It's… my mother's side of the family, the Greengrasses… well, one of our ancestors a while back… she offended a powerful witch. And the witch put a dark curse on her. 'May your wives and daughters weave with frayed threads.' In other words… the women in our family have always had ill health - not lived as long as others. My grandmother was barely thirty when she died - giving birth to my aunt Astoria. It's an odd thing. Hit or miss. One Greengrass girl may be fine, and another…"

She trailed off, shaking her head.

"We think it missed my mum somehow," she said. "She's one of the few that's had two children and come out fine. That's usually a good sign. But my aunt Astoria fell ill around Christmas. Mum told me her health was never the best growing up..."

"So are you…" Lily tried to ask the question delicately. "You know, cursed?"

"I'm not sure," Lena admitted. "It may be me. Might be Titania. Might be neither of us. Sometimes it skips a generation or two. Or three. Blood malediction is weird that way. But unless somebody's found a way to break it, there's always the chance…"

She trailed off.

"Besides that…" Lena said, clenching her fists. "Steph deserved better. He wasn't a bad person. He was just a person… a lot of bad things happened to."

This upset Lily a bit. "What could possibly be bad enough that somebody would turn into…"

Lena stood suddenly. Looking at Lily, her expression suddenly dark. "I wouldn't go digging for that if I were you. Not if you're looking to sleep through the night again."

And she departed for the staircases, leaving Lily alone.

"Wait…" she uttered fruitlessly into the silence several seconds too late. "I wanted to ask you about… someone else."

The emerald flames in front of her popped and guttered. Fire, she knew, could give warmth and light if controlled and kept in the right place. If allowed out of control, it could kill and burn cities to the ground. No matter the type of fire, though, they all had one thing in common:

None of them started on their own.

It was strange when she looked back on it days and weeks later. But Lily Potter's nightmares about that awful November afternoon disappeared after that conversation. It wasn't that what had happened to Lily hadn't been terrible… But real fear was not knowing if a curse inside your body or inside the body of someone you loved was going to kill you or them in a week, or in a month, or a year, or ten. And compared to that… a few jumped-up school bullies honestly seemed kind of small.