AN: Guys I don't even have an excuse ok I'm just terrible at updates. Not a lot physically happens in this chapter, but I think you learn a lot. Please read and review!

Chapter Twenty-Five
Of Bad English Accents and Lots of Introspection

50 years ago

"Jayna?" Jayna Marjolaine Blackwood I opened her bedroom door to her cousin raising her eyebrows in slight surprise.

"When I said to get back to me soon, I didn't mean ze minute you got back. I'm surprised you even bozered to drop Alexis off." Roland lowered his eyes in embarrassment but he couldn't supress the grin curling the corners of his lips.

"Why are we speaking in English?" He replied eventually, his accent much more pronounced. Jayna rolled her eyes and tutted at him.

"I don't want to be over'eard." She gave him a considering look. "Are you going to stand zere all night?"

"Why, is zere somezing else you zink I could be doing?" He asked innocently, leaning against her doorframe and into her personal space. Jayna went up on the tips of her toes to bring their faces closer together. Just as Roland's eyes began to slide shut in anticipation she shoved him lightly on the chest and spun away, going further into her room.

"Business first, cousin." She chided with a smirk. Roland narrowed his eyes at her but closed the door behind him. She refused to give him the satisfaction of turning round, but couldn't hide her gasp when he wrapped his arms around her from behind, bending to put his head on her shoulder. He kissed the side of her neck lightly and murmured into her skin.

"Your wish is my command." Jayna barely heard him, arching her neck to give him better access, and it as her turn to be frustrated when he moved away to lounge on her bed. "Ze fortune-teller told me zat I will dedicate my life to discovering a mystery I will never find, but it will be found."

"Your life?" Jayna said sharply.

"Careful, cousin, you might look like you care." Jayna huffed at him. "Do you know which mystery she was alluding to?" Jayna hesitated a second too long before shaking her head, but she should have known that Roland wasn't easily fooled. His arched eyebrow was all it took for Jayna to lie down on the bed with him.

"It's probably just a coincidence."

"But?" Roland prompted.

"But one of my contacts in England is convinced zere's some extremely powerful magical object 'idden in zat pazetic school of zeirs. Problem is nobody knows what it is, or what it does, only it makes 'orcruxes look like child's play." Roland felt a shiver go down his spine. "'E zinks that we don't 'ave a 'ope in 'ell of ridding ze world of ze filz wizout it."

"Do we go to England?"

"'Ave you forgotten zat you are getting married in a week Roland Blackwood?" 'And not to me' echoed in the space between them and Roland noticeably drained of interest.

"What do you want me to do zen?"

"Tensions are rising in England, and ze States are getting paranoid because of it. Now is no time to be chasing fairytales. We wait to see 'ow zis tension will be resolved. We'll send aid if it's likely to win, and from zere we'll work on ze States. If it doesn't take we will learn from zis person's mistakes… And perhaps start chasing fairytales."

"What tension?"

"Some idealist by ze name of 'Voldemort' apparently."

"Inventive." Roland snorted.

"Now, now; if 'e does well 'e'll do 'alf our work for us." Roland conceded the point with a short nod and continued gazing at the ceiling. Jayna rolled so that she was half on top of him, her legs between his and her chin propped on his chest. He looked down at her, bemused.

"I believe you 'inted at some ozer more pleasurable activity earlier, remember?" She teased.

"Engaged, remember?" He shot back. She rolled her hips and he hissed in surprise.

"Semantics. You still 'ave a week of freedom. Spend it wallowing or kiss me, your choice."

Roland grinned wryly as she pulled herself up so their mouths aligned. "Well zat's not much of a choice at all."

Lee was the first person in her family to own a wand. In Uagadou, and all of Africa's Wizarding schools for that matter, the students were taught to channel their magic through their hands. Wands were precision tools used only by some African witches and wizards, and tended to be owned only by those who had particularly pernickety jobs, such as architects. Lee was still better at wandless magic than her classmates, but she only used it when performing destructive spells like bombarda; she had no talent for targeting without a wand.

Her father was not often in England, and when he was he found it hard to talk to Lesedi about anything other than her condition. For a world-renowned public speaker, Lee found him rather terrible at talking about what really mattered. Therefore it was her mother that tried to teach her the self-transfiguration Africans were so famous for. They never discussed the other subject Uagadou was known for; Alchemy, because it wasn't taught until sixth year at Hogwarts and… Well. Lee wasn't going to see sixth year.

Alone in a clearing in the forest she'd found perfect for practicing her wandless magic, Lee picked up her Beater's bat and swung it into a tree with a scream of frustration. She hit it again, and again, and again, until finally she put too much force behind it and the bat went spinning out of the clearing, her wrist twisting as it flew out of her grasp. Lee fell to her knees, panting for breath, feeling angry tears and more screams rising up in her throat. Her face crumbled and she covered it with her shaking hands, leaning her head against the beaten tree.

She hated this.

Her life. Everything.

She didn't even feel sick. She wouldn't feel sick until she was going to die, and until then every cold or stomach bug had her spinning into a full-on panic attack. What was the point?

"WHAT'S THE POINT?!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, startling the birds above into flying away. She watched them go, wondering if everything good was destined to leave her.

"Lee." Said a calm voice behind her. She spun round, holding her hands up in defence, to find James Potter holding her bat. Out of the shadows of the trees Sam came over to his side, her expression unreadable.

"Go away." Lee snarled, but her voice cracked in the middle. James shared a glance with Sam. He passed her the bat and left without another word, cold hands shoved into his robe pockets.

"One of my friends just told me I'm going to Hell for dating you." Sam said, conversationally. Lee started in surprise, and then anger, clambering to her feet.

"Tell me who it is and I'll beat their face in." Lee paled. "Was it Lydjah or Jayna? I swear to Nundu-"

"It wasn't either of them. Nundu?" Lee frowned, flustered.

"It's a magical creature native to my- native to East Africa."

"Huh." Sam twirled the bat in one hand, looking anywhere but Lee before suddenly stopping, her eyes trained sharply on Lee's hand. "Lesedi; what happened to your wrist?" Sam using her full name was uncommon, but more startling was that twisting her wrist had apparently lost her control on her self-transfiguration of her arms that hid the track marks from injecting the suppressant drugs of her treatment. Thankfully the rest of her arms were covered but it didn't really matter. Lee held her truths close to her chest for everyone else's safety… But perhaps sometimes that was too close. Lee knew she'd lose Sam if she didn't start giving some honesty, and right now that would require more strength than prying a secret from her heart.

Lee turned her wrist more fully towards her girlfriend so Sam could see properly as she edged closer. With a deep breath in, Lee ran her left hand over her right wrist, and the marks disappeared. Sam's eyes shot to hers. "I have the Dreamless Sleep Potion because I have chronic insomnia," a stretch of the truth but close enough, "and I come here to practice wandless magic because that's how African people are supposed to be able to do magic and-" Lee gasped for breath, not realising she'd been holding it in. "And I'm never going to be good enough for my father and I'm not allowed to go home until I'm better." Better at what Lee left ambiguous, knowing Sam would think it was the magic she needed to improve. In reality her parents did not even have a house in England; every holiday Lee spent in St Mungos or some other hospital, and her parents had no intention of ever letting her go back to Africa where the healthcare was somewhat subpar in comparison. The increased number of deadly muggle diseases there that Lee could easily contract in her last three months where her illness would begin to completely shut down her immune system, was not helping her case any.

Sam grabbed Lee's hands gently, pulling her back to the present, and to Lee's astonishment there were tears in her girlfriend's eyes. "Fuck him. I'll go to Africa with you." Lee smiled sadly and shook her head.

"He's put a tracking charm on me; he freaks out when I get to the end of Hogsmeade let alone a different continent. The trials and tribulations of being a celebrity's child." This was true, though it did make her father sound worse than he was. Not that Lee cared; it wasn't as if her perception of him was much higher. Sam looked furious. Lee wondered how she'd react if she knew she had to ask the Grey Lady to look after her Quidditch kit for her over the holidays because she knew her parents would pull her off the Quidditch team before she could say 'Mane ya nundu' if they had any idea she was on it.

"So he forces you all to move over to England for his job and then he basically traps you here?" Sam fumed.

"Him and mum live in a house in Burkinabe actually. They just wanted to me to go to school in England." Sam's hands moved to cup Lee's face. Sam was never gentle, could only be gentle under extreme circumstances, but Lee liked that about her. While everyone in her family treated her life she was a leaf two seconds from falling off a tree, Sam held her like she was strong and dependable and unbroken.

"I might punch your parents if I ever meet them." Sam said finally, and Lee found herself laughing, though as ever her laugh was tense and quickly over. Sam seemed pleased by it anyway, and she didn't ask about the track marks. Lee knew she hadn't forgotten, but she also knew that Sam was aware of how much it had cost Lee to tell even these half-truths. She wouldn't push it, for now.

James knew the best thing he could do was forget that scene in the forest. He'd seen Lee in a more vulnerable state than she'd even allowed Sam to be witness to, let alone him. She only vaguely tolerated him on good days. It didn't help that Sam and Lee liked to keep their relationship private and wherever James was… There was usually a small gaggle of people watching him out of the corner of their eye, if not outright drooling over him.

James also knew he wasn't ever going to forget that scene in the forest without magical help, and he didn't even want to think about the reaction Jayna would have if he asked her to obliviate him, not that he really wanted her to.

He rubbed his face with a sigh as he came into the Gryffindor common room, halting abruptly when he noticed the three people stood in his way. Jas Newport, their Keeper, was slowly blinking down at the two sniggering boys in front of the fire. Jas' posture was relaxed and loose, which was at odds for the insults the boys were throwing their way.

Although there were LGBTQ+ people all over the school, the majority of those who were out were in Gryffindor, generally because of the bravery it took to be able to express themselves. Jas was in the year above James and generally tended to wear whatever they felt like that day. Anybody who'd cared to ask knew that Jas had two alter-egos they liked to use, Jasmine and Jasper, for convenience; Jas. Nobody knew whether Jas had been born Jasmine or Jasper and Jas was quick to explain that not all genderfluid people had such clear cut rules like they did and there was a whole spectrum of people out there. For Jas personally, it was stereotypically obvious whether they were Jasmine or Jasper that day, generally depending on their clothes and hairstyle though Jasper often wore make-up in much the same was Jasmine did, and Jas had long since told everyone that they didn't much care what pronouns were used to describe them. For years the Gryffindors had tried to find out whether there were actually two 'Jas's or if Jas was a metamorphagus but so far none of the rumours had been confirmed.

Jas today was Jasper, evident by his black combat boots and bloke's uniform. The girls' staircase refused to let Jas up when he was Jasper, which added fuel to the 'are there two 'Jas's' theory, but that wasn't the point of contention today. Instead the boys in front of Jas were making comments about his winged eyeliner that James couldn't help but secretly admire, even if he had little interest in wearing it himself.

"So are you a boy or a girl?" The taller boy asked. James knew their names, but preferred to pretend he didn't; he didn't like being reminded that there were people in his house that were as narrow-minded as Lien.

"I'm a Keeper." Jasper said, sounding bored, brushing a stray hair out of his face with a patient air.

"But what's between your legs?" Asked the other boy. James blinked a little at the brazen question but Jasper seemed unfazed.

"A broom usually." He deadpanned. "James. Practice?" James nodded with a slight smirk. Jas wasn't a person of many words, but James had found them easy to get along with regardless. "Where's Sam?" James winced on his way to the stairs to collect his things.

"Erm. She might be a little… Late." Jasper shrugged, not bothered, and James wondered if anything got under his skin at all.

Albus looked over at Scorpius just in time to catch his own horror reflected in his best friend's face before Scorpius schooled his features back to neutrality. They had just left the 'growing up' talk which was quite possibly the most embarrassing thing Albus had ever had to sit through. He didn't want to ever hear the word 'period' or 'menstrual' near him ever again.

"Oh Merlin your faces!" Molly snorted. Albus and Scorpius tensed slightly as they turned to face her. Molly was dragging a downcast Lien behind her who didn't look up to meet anyone's eyes. "At least you don't have to go through it."

Albus conceded to her point with an easy smile, earning a thankful look from his cousin. "That's very true." He opened his mouth to say something else and then closed it again, leaving an awkward silence to filter over the group. Scorpius, who had been raised in an environment where awkward silences demanded to be settled with smooth words, was the first to cut the tension.

"Lien, what you said was wrong and a complete overreaction but if anyone knows how hard belief systems are to shake it's me. And I think the beliefs my kind practice might be even worse."

"Don't say 'my kind' Scorp." Albus admonished gently.

"Why is everyone so hung up on how wrong my belief system is? I'm not trying to shake it; I don't want to shake it." Lien said, more strongly than Scorpius was expecting. A little flicker of darkness passed over his face, too quick for anyone else to catch. For a moment Scorpius wished Jayna was here; she knew that darkness all too well, however much she strived against it. Then Scorpius remembered that like everyone else, she was a force for good that was too much for him. He'd never say it aloud, but sometimes he was jealous that Jayna had been so badly hurt by her grandfather because at least it was easy for her to draw the line between their beliefs. Jayna didn't want to be like Roland, so she tried to be like the Potters or the Weasleys instead. Scorpius didn't have that luxury; the beliefs he'd been taught, while primarily wrong, weren't always so, and they'd done nothing but benefit him his entire life.

This wasn't something he could hash out with Lien. Lien, while his friend, was, like Molly, never going to be that close with him. Albus was who Scorpius wished he could be; just as much of a Slytherin but with an unbroken shining moral compass. Jayna and him were tied together by their pasts, and Rose was… An unattainable, unthinkable pipedream of the future, but one he'd hold onto until the last of his small shreds of hope were taken from him in the form of an arranged marriage by his parents. The others he was bound to by honour, by the unmistakable bond that forms from putting their lives in danger together with only the other seven to rely on.

The darkness the others saw in Jayna was easily overlooked by the instinct to protect their poor tortured friend, but Scorpius couldn't escape their scrutiny so easily. Nor could he explain that the after image of the spell they had seen from his wand during one of the trials was from the research he'd asked Rose to help with (though of course he hadn't told her the real reason behind it either). Scorpius was aware of five things at all times, no matter where he was.

1) He owed Jayna the little happiness he currently possessed

2) Jayna's family had not been murdered by accident

3) There was a spy in the school who had tried to kill Jayna and Cararon, which probably linked to 2)

4) Rose Weasley was the most beautiful thing he'd ever had the pleasure of meeting

5) He was no more deserving of her than she was of being shackled to him, knives and all

The research, therefore, had been looking for a spell that could explain how the Blackwoods, almost all competent witches and wizards, and some more than competent (Scorpius didn't know if Jayna knew how intimidated all the other Pureblood women were by Celina Daviau), had been murdered as easily as taking sweets from a baby. Rose's natural curiosity and slightly mischievous personality had been easy to harness to this task, and while he kept expecting her to flinch away from the spells he cautiously brought up, all she did was wonder aloud about the potency of dark magic.

Scorpius was jolted back to himself at Albus' careful nudge of his elbow and noticed Lien and Molly had gone.

"You alright? You looked a little spaced out." Scorpius flashed him a quick upturn of his lips as he pulled his bag more securely onto his shoulder and gestured down the corridor to their next class.