Thicker Than Blood

by MissusWitch

Prejudice runs rampant even in a world without Lord Voldemort, but when a Potter boy is sorted into the House of Slytherin, the next generation is set to change forever. This is the story of Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy, and how their friendship guided each other in times of love and strife. AL/OC, SM/RW

11. Wheels to Wisdom

Chapter 11: Wheels to Wisdom

Wheels to Wisdom

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the Great JKR. I just tinker-tanker.

AAA.

All hell had broken loose on the Hogwarts Express.

It began with booze. Someone clever enough to remain anonymous (though fingers waggled towards James Potter) had surreptitiously managed to bring aboard a crate of it past the staff and into the prefect's compartment. The seventh year class, who had grudgingly assumed the mantle of responsibility over the younger students during their last year of Hogwarts, were in full agreement that their time at school had officially ended, and so what was there left to do but leave with a bang? The Head Boy and Head Girl were certainly in no position to stop them and neither were the prefects. This highlighted the fatal flaw of the student governance system that its creator had not anticipated:

Teenagers with alcohol.

As a result the first, second and third-years were left unattended, quarantined somewhere towards the front of the train after realizing that they were much too young to join in on the fun and that watching their elder counterparts muck around was not something they were keen to remember over the holidays. Fourth-years, who were caught in the unfortunate transitory stage between too young and not cool enough, were left to hang around the middle part of the train and catch glimpses of the debauchery to their envy. This meant that the older students had full dominion over the back three carriages, and the Hogwarts train ride they had remembered in their younger years as an idyllic few hours of innocent fun turned into a full-on rager. The usual functional spaces on the train became tools of teenage fancy. Compartments transofmred into binge-drinking game rooms or private snogging facilities. The corridor effectively became a lounge for those that needed a quiet space to giggle and sober up. The trolley lady, bless her heart, had turned into a fulltime source of directions to the loo.

Scorpius Malfoy was having the time of his life. Their compartment was filled exclusively with fifth-year Slytherins and he had nicked three bottles of Firewhiskey and a generous flagon of Cherry Sparkles from the prefect's compartment. Knowing he had supplied all the boys and girls in his year with enough alcohol to hyperventilate their livers, Scorpius truly believed he deserved a reward and so, when Chantal flopped onto his lap and proceeded to snog him senseless, he gladly reciprocated. The one thought that floated through his mind as he registered the faces of his peers around him was: Where is Potter?

Al had deserted the Slytherin compartment shortly after nicking two bottles of Ogden's "finest" rum, a beverage that could not be named without obligatory quotation marks due to its questionable quality. He was now settled amongst the Gryffindors, preferring the somewhat quieter atmosphere to the racuous Slytherins (especially after Vera Zabini had thrown herself on him with insistent declarations that they were meant to be together). As the two bottles were passed among Rose, Rowan, Drew, Amanda Longbottom and Elissa Travers, their speech turned steadily less coherent and higher in volume. Al looked around the compartment, noting sadly that there was one face missing, and wondered: Where is Carpathia?

That left Carpathia with neither the Gryffindors or Slytherins and in the exclusive company of Devon Lynch. Since that day in the forest they had remained inseparable. The two precious weeks between the end of exams and Devon's final day at Hogwarts had flown by mercilessly. She had seen and felt so much of Devon she could feel his presence radiating all over her skin, pulsing in and out of her as if she were breathing in him. Climbing aboard the Hogwarts Express and seeing other faces was like surfacing for air after weeks of being in an underwater dream.

Still, they held fast to one another, bumping and snogging along the walls of the narrow, dimlit corridor as students hastily darted past them.

"Shouldn't you go find Adara and the other seventh years?" murmured Carpathia in between passionate kisses. She thought of Al and wondered how long it had been since she'd last seen him. "Just to say goodbye."

"And what good would that do?" replied Devon, his eyes closed, "I'd rather be here with you anyway." They fumbled their way into a compartment, tripping over the edge of a seat and tumbling uncontrollably into the darkness so that they were blind except for the carpet and soft cushioning at their fingertips.

Carpathia's giggles were drowned out by Devon's deep, gasping laugh. She felt his breath on her cheek as he said: "Well, that's lucky. This one's empty."

"That's more than I can say for your dorm room."

"Indeed."

They kissed for several more minutes on the compartment bench, and he gingerly shifted his body towards her until his leg had wrapped over her own and he was nearly on top of her.

"Devon."

"What? Do you want me to stop?"

"No, I just—I'm really-" Carpathia started, and her face brimmed into a smile. "I'm really happy, that's all."

"Me too, Pegs," said Devon with a roll of his eyes and an affectionate smile. "Me too."

"I dunno what I'd do next year without you around. Come to think of it, I don't know what Erin and Keegan will do now that you and Adara have graduated."

"Destroy their livers, probably."

"Buy Muggle fags."

"Oh, the horror."

Carpathia chuckled, and stroked his face with one hand quietly for several seconds. He took her hand and pressed it to his lips. "We had a good year though, didn't we, Pegs?"

"Yeah," she answered, "And now you'll be up in Ireland and I'll be at Hogwarts. It's not too far."

"Mm." He had resumed kissing her, sinking down on the lower end of her body. His fingers brushed against her navel as she felt him lift up her shirt, and then his lips were on her stomach and her bellybutton.

"Dev—Devon," said Carpathia somewhat unsteadily as her hormones registered what he was doing to her. "Where will you be working, anyway?"

"What? Oh," Devon paused for several seconds, and continued, his tone lighthearted, "One of dad's casinos closer to Dublin. Deskjob. Boring as fuck."

"Oh, I see. When would you start?"

"Er…right away, I suppose. I'm not too spot-on with the details."

"Would it be really alright for me to come visit so soon? You'll be busy settling in."

"It's fine, Pegs."

"But you just said you had to work right away."

"I'll take a few days off to show you around the place."

"Are you sure?"

Devon's head rose from her navel, wearing a slightly exasperated expression."What's with the interrogation?"

Carpathia frowned. "Sorry. I just—I have to lie to my parents and if I'm doing that, I'd like to know when we're going to see each other next. We never talked about, well, plans."

"I thought plans were obvious."

"Not really. You told me…you loved me and that you wanted me to visit you over the holidays, I said yes, we snogged, and we've been doing that ever since," pandered Carpathia uncertainly, and now realizing that the way she was saying it did make it sound all rather stupid. "We are still staying together, aren't we?"

Devon withdrew his hands from underneath her top, and his face finally appeared before her with a tender smile. "Yes, love, we're together." His lips curled slightly, as though he was mocking himself. "Like Bonnie and Clyde. Flowers and chocolates. The whole drill. You're coming to visit me next week and that's the end of it."

"Oh," exhaled Carpathia, not understanding why she had felt so unsettled before. "Brilliant." And then with a satisfied feeling in her gut she gave herself into Devon's wandering hands, and as he kissed her all over, she felt those hands wander up her shirt and shivered in nervous excitement when she felt his cold skin brushing against her chest.

It wasn't anything they hadn't done before, but this time she could feel his need emanating from him, more determined and resolute than before. Her top slipped off in a frantic haze, followed by his, and soon his other hand had found the button of her jeans. Before she could utter a small warning call, he was tugging down the hem of her trousers, his hand edging his way down her underwear. She gasped, and he pulled away immediately.

Just like that, they had drifted into uncharted territory.

"Carpathia…" his voice was hoarse and dazed, as though he was coming out of a dream. "Sorry, I forgot you were…still a…"

"Virgin?" finished Carpathia with a flushed expression, her heartbeat thundering in her chest. "Yes, and… we're in a train compartment…"

"Does that bother you?" said Devon quickly, "We could put a Muffliatocharm over this place and you wouldn't have to hear anybody outside…"

"No, that's not—I mean yes, do that, but—that's not-" Carpathia cut herself off with a sharp breath and closed her eyes.

Since when had the thought of losing her virginity made her feel so nervous? She had known ages ago that when the time finally happened she would have no romanticized notions about it. Sex was, really, just sex.

Devon trailed the side of her face with one finger, looking at her with a sheepish expression. "Do you want to? We don't have to if you don't want to…"

His dark green eyes were really hauntingly beautiful in the dim light, much more subtle than Al's eyes had ever been, though Carpathia wondered why she had to make that comparison.

"I do…I just have a lot of nerves that need calming down. It's no good when I'm like this," she explained wryly.

"Oh." Understanding flashed across his eyes. "Well, you know, I've still got…if you want some…"

The silver box. PEGASUS. The same old battle roared up inside her, as if she could Al's voice speaking in the back of her mind: Iz doesn't feed me alcohol or narcotics as a past-time. "Devon, no. I'm never taking that stuff again and you shouldn't even have them-"

"It's not," explained Devon gently, "It's just a pill to help you relax. Promise."

Devon reached for something inside his pocket, and when she heard the rattle of the pills inside, she swallowed and nodded.

He met her eyes, looking almost apologetic, and placed something hard and circular in her hand. She rubbed the tiny pill against her fingertips in apprehension. "Only if you want to."

The desire in her blood and the intense look in his eyes had won her over, and yet…Carpathia hesitated, opening her mouth in a moment of indecision, but his eyebrows rose and then the whole situation seemed ridiculous; why did she go so far just to doubt this much? She clamped her hand over her mouth, and his eyes widened when she swallowed.

It took only several moments for the effects of the pill to hit. She could feel her muscles relaxing amongst the stiffness of her bones, and the dim lights suddenly threw the compartment into shades of gold and rose, and all Carpathia wanted to do was sink into Devon's arms and feel nothing and everything. She had never taken a drug except for PEGASUS and even then she'd only enjoyed the calm over the euphoria.

"I love you," It came out as a sigh, more of an answer than a statement, though she wasn't entirely sure why at that moment it had felt so necessary to reemphasize that.

Devon's eyes softened and he bent down to kiss her. "I love you too." And it seemed that she had responded sufficiently, because he slowly pulled down her underwear and ventured where no one had ever gone before.

Carpathia closed her eyes, and somewhere amongst her muted emotions she could sense terror and ice-cold excitement, but Devon was good at what he did and all of that was washed away into a haze of that all-consuming, rosy-gold happiness, which left her nothing to do but to give herself to him.

AAA.

"I think I'm properly pissed now," commented Amanda Longbottom with a loud giggle as she finished off her round of Ogden's and passed it to Rose, who uncapped it and put the bottle to her lips.

Drew smirked. "That was fast. Weak,Longbottom."

"Prick, Caraway."

"That's got a nice ring to it," remarked Rowan. "Prick Caraway…"

"People would think he was overcompensating," added Al as Rose silently passed the bottle to him. The acrid smell made him want to vomit, but he held his nose and swallowed another mouthful. The alcohol burnt a path of fire down his chest and seemed to add another brick to his head. "Ugh, that's awful."

"Do you remember our first bottle of Ogden's, Rosie?" recalled Amanda, leaning her shoulder into Rose's and almost falling into her lap.

Rose purposely looked away. "Can't recall."

"Of course you do, Rosie-Red, it was the first time we-"

"Shhhht!" Rose hissed, clapping her hands over Amanda's mouth. "Mum's the word, remember, Mands?"

Drew's eyebrows perked up in interest. "First what? First what?"

"Sod off, Drew."

"Is this what I think it is?"

"Fair warning: I willuse this bottle to smite your testicles if you don't back off."

"Oh my, it is."

"Flippin' hell."

"Red, I'm beggin' ya for details. D'you know what the implication of that statement sends to us blokes over here?"

Rowan nodded solemnly. "Drew will never know the color of Amanda's socks."

"Shut up, you knobhead. If you don't divulge, Rose, and trust me, whatever it is it can't be more filthy than what's already going in my head, it'll rot through our brains over the summer and you'll find zombies sitting with ya on the trainride next term back to old Hoggers."

"I don't want to know," called Al, but no one was listening.

"Oh come on, Rosie," whined Amanda in a sing-song voice, "Let's tell them! I want to tell a story!"

"Tell them about the time you gave Roswood a seizure in Herbology when you bent over in front of him and your pants ripped."

"You bitch. Well, you asked for it. It was the first time Rose ever-"

"Ever realized Mands over here has breasts for brains," finished Rose loudly, leaning into Amanda's face with a cheeky grin. The girl was so out of it she simply groaned and tried to sit up, but couldn't. Then, Rose faced the others and stage-whispered: "That's why she's got such big tits you know."

"Does she?" inquired Drew as if he had just noticed, his attention now piqued onto the subject of women's anatomy. He took a good eyeful at Amanda's chest and then, after a sizable pause, "Go out with me, Longbottom?"

There were groans all around.

"Mate."

"You're a pig."

"Hey, let the lady talk," protested Drew indignantly. He turned back towards Amanda with a smile that was almost tender. "You've always fancied me, haven't you, Longbottom?"

Amanda was still lying over Rose's lap, oblivious to what was happening. "Where's that bloody bottle—hah, what?" She seemed to realize that Drew was still waiting for an answer, and so she promptly replied, in the best way she knew how to, with an "Oh, right" and a stuck up middle finger.

There was a burst of laughter around the compartment and Drew's face twisted into acknowledged defeat, allowing Rowan and Al to stand above him and pour a sizable portion of Ogden's "Finest" into his mouth. Then the compartment door burst open and several seconds of hazy silence passed before the compartment's current residents registered that standing in the doorway were Scorpius (with Chantal latched onto him like an urchin), Lucas, and Gareth Nott.

"Ohoy, Potter and the Gryffindors," stated Scorpius, his face quite flushed already. He amended himself when he saw Rowan's navy Ravenclaw robes peeping from under his seat. "And Thomas. Did you steal liquor from the Slytherin compartment, Potter?"

Al shrugged. "Can you steal something that's already been stolen?"

Scorpius tapped his foot. "At least have the balls to steal something that people actually want – not bloody Ogden's."

"Actually we were just talking about my breasts!" announced Amanda quite proudly, having finally managed to sit up from Rose's lap.

Scorpius took several seconds to appraise the topic at hand, and then he opened his mouth. "They're nice." Amanda beamed.

Al regarded his roommate with a quizzical expression. "You were looking for something?"

"You, actually." He surveyed the room with critical eyes. "Where's your other half?"

"Somewhere off with her friends. Why?"

"Just didn't expect to see you not your sorry, googly-eyed self, is all."

"Gosh, I'm so glad I restored your memories, Malfoy."

Lucas slid past Scorpius and wriggled in next to Al, shoving a disgruntled Drew aside. "Hey, mate." He was grinning from ear to ear like an idiot. "Some trainride, eh? Your brother's a complete wanker, but he sure knows how to throw a party."

"So I've heard."

"Not much of a party in here at the moment," smirked Scorpius, and then he drew out two bottles of Firewhiskey from the inside of his coat and tossed them to Drew and Rowan. "Here, spread the love."

"Christ. Thanks, Malfoy," whistled Rowan with raised eyebrows. "Awfully generous of you."

"Haven't you heard the saying, 'alcohol brings out the best in people'?"

"Where did you score the whole lot?"

" 'ee stole them from ze Prefect's compartement," blurted out Chantal with a throaty laugh. It seemed that liquor was able to significantly thicken her French accent. "Scorpius can be such a bad boy." She kissed him promptly on the cheek.

"Yeah, well, he really shouldn't steal from his fellow prefects, seeing as he's one himself," commented Rose acidly.

Rowan elbowed her and said pointedly at the prefect's badge glinting on her chest, "So are you."

"Right," adjusted Rose dazedly with a dismissive wave of her hand. "But I'm drinking Ogden's, which no one actually wants to drink. Well, unless you're Ogden himself, but he was probably a bastard who took advantage of everyone around him by selling his horrible stuff, which begs the question: why do we still drink Ogden's if we know it's awful? Because we're idiots…" she concluded with a satisfied smile, "Who trust bastards."

"Rose is drunk," explained Al, more to Scorpius than anyone else. He was staring at her with a rather amused expression.

Rose tutted. "I am not. Your mother's drunk."

"Right. Point made."

"Well, zat is completely understandable," said Chantal, flouncing into the compartment and sitting cross-legged across from Rose with a tantalizing smile on her lips. "Eenglish girls cannot 'old zer liquor as well as Frenchgirls. French girls haff been drinking zis stuff since zey weretwelve."

Rose rolled her eyes and thrust the bottle in Chantal's direction, clearly displeased with the statement.

"Right, so I guess we're staying," mused Scorpius, stepping into the compartment and swaying slightly as the train buckled. "Coming, Gareth?"

Gareth, who still had not uttered a word since he had arrived, gave no indication that he had been drinking except for the fact that his face was the exact hue as a tomato. He nodded gruffly, followed Scorpius, and the two boys squeezed into the space next to Chantal so that Scorpius was shoulder-to-shoulder with Al. The space suddenly felt like the inside of a sardine can.

"So this is happening, then? We're mingling with Slytherins now?" grumbled Drew, "What's next? Sharing Quidditch strategy?"

"We provided the alcohol," pointed out Scorpius.

"Not to mention that I'm Slytherin Captain and I've been sitting here for twenty minutes," reminded Al with a snort, "As for Quidditch strategy, you could learn a little something from us."

"Damn right!" reinforced Gareth, his voice heard for the first time, and the entire compartment let out a series of guffaws. He looked around him and shrugged in puzzlement. "Wot? We destroyed 'em this year."

"Thanks to our Captain," said Scorpius, a rare compliment, and Al grinned.

Drew folded his arms and sat back with a defiant glare. "Complete fluke. We coulda won the last match, you lot just-"

"Completely annihilated your defense line?" suggested Al, now returning to his familiar post as Quidditch Captain. No one, not even Gryffindors, could deter him from remembering his place when it came to Quidditch. "I remember. Got an earful from James." He smiled wickledly. "Plus, our Seeker caught the Snitch fifteen minutes in." Drew scoffed. "Don't believe me? Ask the commentator."

Rowan confirmed it with a nod. "Fastest game Hogwarts has seen in years."

"There you have it," said Scorpius, raising his bottle to Al, and when Al met the other boy's eyes there was a proud glint in them. Who would have thought this year was the year we would have played side by side? The thought flashed quickly through his mind, now thick with memories of the best Quidditch he'd ever played in his life. "Best fucking team on the planet. Up yours, Gryffindor!"

"Up yours, Gryffindor!" the other Slytherin boys in the compartment yelled, downing their drinks.

"Well, darling you haff always been wonderful," slurred Chantal, crawling onto Scorpius' lap after he had finished his drink. He turned to her, looking somewhat surprised what Al would have assumed was her lack of propriety. Chantal never behaved any less than prim and proper in public. "So handsome on your broomsteek…."

She giggled slightly and there was a stupefied expression over his features, no doubt fueled by the alcohol, as she leaned in and planted him one on the lips, her hair falling into a glossy curtain over the two of them.

Drew coughed. "Buggery hell, Malfoy."

"Ugh, I think I'm going to be sick."

"Excuse me."

The last sentence had come from Rose. She had uttered it so softly that only Al sitting next to her had heard. She got up from her seat and parted through the clamor, almost unnoticeably, as the other members in the compartment were preoccupied with shaming the snogging couple. Al glimpsed a strange, stricken expression on his cousins's face, but before he could act on it, she had opened the compartment door and closed it behind her.

Not certain that he knew at all what was happening, or if he was equipped to handle Rose's emotions, Al shrugged it off and turned towards the conversation with a daring grin on his lips, ready to engage in a Quidditch debate that now transpired between his housemates and the Gryffindors.

AAA.

Rose left the compartment unable to breath. She walked a little ways down the corridor and then, when she thought it was far enough, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, feeling as though her heart was about to burst.

Get a grip, youbint, she told herself, her head swimming from all the liquor she'd consumed. You're not meant to feel this way. He doesn't remember. You knew this when Al told you a couple days ago. He doesn't remember.

But it didn't stop the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes, which made her slam the wall angrily with a fist, more enraged at herself than anything. He wasn't the same person anyhow! Why did she bloody care? He had Chantal and they were bloody Slytherin King and Queen and they—they could have each other.

If there was anyone she ought to be miserable over, it should have been Carter, boyfriend of two years, not Scorpius Arse-of-the-Milennia Malfoy.

It's just the alcohol,she told herself, fighting to calm her breathing, alcohol heightens activity in the amygdala, the portion of the brain responsible for primal urges and therefore easily subjected while intoxicated to intense bouts of emotion—what the fuck am I going on about?

There was a loud laugh to her right, causing Rose to peer down the corridor. She spotted the familiar shine of golden-brown hair and the bulky figure of Carter McLaggen, stumbling into proximity with his hands around…Easy Ellie.

Rose smiled wryly, as if she had just discovered the punchline to her own joke. She kept her eyes on the new couple, wondering if she could will herself to feel more perturbed about this and less about Scorpius Malfoy-maybe if she did she could return to their compartment and not feel like she wanted to stab Chantal with one of the girl's own three-inch heels.

"Rose." She squeaked in alarm as Rowan materialized before her. He waved a hand in front of her face.

"Sorrry. You scared me."

"Are you alright? You just walked out of there."

"I'm sure no one noticed."

"That doesn't explain why-" Rowan followed her gaze down the corridor, where Carter was now kissing Ellie quite ferociously against the wall. His eyes darkened. "Prick. It's hardly been a fortnight since you two…and now he's off with…do you want me to sock him for ya, Rose?"

"Please don't. I was the one who broke his heart." Rowan's presence had an amazing effect; the sense of panic she'd experienced just minutes ago had begun to recede.

"You know, you've been off since…since you and Carter…you know…and Drew and I are starting to worry." He amended himself. "Well, I am at least. I won this year's Best Friend award after all."

"You are the very best," Rose agreed.

"Do I have to bring out Ogden's "Finest" for you to talk?"

"Oho. And he starts to use coercive techniques."

"Don't get snarky. You two did go out for awhile and he wasn't the nicest bloke in the end." He paused. "I'm only asking because I don't want to have to think about you all summer while I'm trying to get my tan on." The smile at the end of his sentence punctuated the joke.

Rose took a deep breath. "Don't judge me."

" 'course not."

"I haven't stopped thinking about someone. Someone else."

Rowan took this information in with surprise. "Oh. Blimey. Already?"

Rose exhaled. "I said, don't judge me."

"Right. Um. Wow! Good on you for fancying someone already!"

"Damn it," said Rose. The exhaustion of having kept it a secret for so long broke, and words came spilling out on a river of emotions. "This is insane. To think I could ruin something that's been working all this time just because it was Carter of all people that got the idea into my head. What a bloody irony. Now I can't get the idea of us being together out of my head and on top of that, I'm afraid that it really does just existin my head…" she fell back against the wall, her voice softening. "Do you understand what I'm saying, Rowan?"

"Yes," said Rowan, his voice suddenly quiet. She registered his adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "I do."

"I should get over it, shouldn't I?" she said faintly, staring into the dark triangle-shaped shadows that had formed onto his features from the swaying lights above them. "It's just a misunderstanding on my part."

"That's stupid," replied Rowan, reprimanding but tender. The buckling of the train had prompted him to shift extremely close to her and she could smell his breath. "It just takes time."

She blinked, and the train bounced once more, throwing in some space between them. "Maybe one day then. When we're both ready."

"Well, there ya go, Red," said Rowan in that same quiet tone, cuffing her cheek affectionately. "See? Look at that, you're smiling."

Rose shot him a look, but he was right; she was smiling, and quite largely at that too. "It's the alcohol."

"Either way. It's a better look for you."

"Are you saying I'm ugly, Thomas?"

"Oh no. Love is a red, red rose, that's newly sprung in June, remember all that?"

"Scarringly."

"Well, if I hadn't just won Best Friend of the year, I'd say you were exceptionally sprung." He slung his arm around her shoulder and steered her back towards the compartment. "And while we're on that vein, I'm going to dutifully reiterate that I never liked Carter anyway and you're better off. Shall we head back inside and get even more sloshed?"

She nodded. "Merlin's beard, yes."

AAA.

There are three stages of PEGASUS: calm, euphoria, and then…poof, you're flying. These were Devon's words but, medically speaking, completely supported by years of testimony. The PEGASUS drug was the most potent dose of dopamine known to the Wizarding world, activating parts of the brain that could induce magic without uttering a single word. Mostly through physical acts such as 'flying', which no one could really explain. Some said it was literally the physical act of levitation; others believed it was all in the mind.

Carpathia had lost her virginity in the middle of the calm. It was a hazy experience, scattered with memories tinted in rosy-gold light of panting and bare skin. There were flashes of terror and delight and she couldn't remember when it had begun and ended, because time now seemed unnescessary, an arbitrary, bothersome thing. That was how the calm made you feel.

In a thunderclap, Carpathia found herself suddenly in the prefect's compartment, not remembering how she got there. She took several long breaths, trying to find some sort of direction in the fog.

Where was Devon? When had she and Devon separated? It had to have been after the sex, of course, but had he said where he was going?

Come to think of it, how the fuck had she walked all the bloody way here?

Her heart began to pound. Okay, Thia. First things first. Find someone you know.She pushed past a gaggle of loud, giggling Ravenclaw prefects, and headed for the knot of people in the center of the room, a likely watering hole for booze.

The calm was beginning to fade. She could feel the round warm bubble in her chest flattening, the sharp edges of guilt and regret materializing as the memories of the last hour rose to her mind. It's just something to help you relax. The recollection of his voice, smooth with persuasion as his fingers gripped the bottom half of her torso, flooded her like a bucket of ice water.

A gnawing conviction was begin to form in her mind, but she pushed it away in vain. She was going to murder Devon Lynch when she found him.

"Watch it!" Her eardrums burst and she swerved right into a crowd of boys. She heard the rattle of glass bottles and instinctively stepped out of the way. "Oi! We've got a whole crate here."

"Kevs, mate, this way!" That was Fred Weasley. Al's cousin.The identification promptly made her stumble in that direction.

Without fail, she soon came across James Potter. On top of the seats he towered above the crowd, his hair nearly touching the ceiling. "To another round of debauchery, my fellow graduates!" Then, he raised a cup of smoking liquid and downed it one gulp.

There was a loud cheer and several people raised their own cups and drank in unison. The noise made Carpathia sway on her feet slightly, upsetting her balance.

She fell sideways, knocked into a slight figure beside her, and felt the splash of warm liquid on her wrist.

"Oh, shit! Sorry, I didn't mean to-" Carpathia recognized that shrill voice instantly, and turned.

It was Isabel, but unlike any version of Isabel that Carpathia had seen before.

"Car-Thia," she made a strangled noise, and Carpathia's eyes focused blearily on the girl's askewed hair and blue eyes. So blue. Carpathia felt that she could fall into those gleaming, bright orbs forever.

"Hi Isabel," she said, faint but calm. She was certain there had been something to grab onto in the near vicinity, but her hands flailed into empty air. "Everything alright?"

Isabel reached out to steady her. "I—fine. I'm fine. How long have you been standing here?"

Carpathia's brain computed that it was Isabel's hands gripping hers, but they felt solid and cold, like dead tree vines. "I'm looking for Devon Lynch. Have you seen him? I really must find him." 'I really must find him'? Shut up, you twat. The pounding of her heart was becoming quite distracting. She was afraid someone could hear it, and that thought made her blood skitter in her veins like…like…she closed her eyes and thought, a tap-dancing spider.

Yes, let that image stay in your head, Carpathia.

I can think what I want.

Her skin felt too tight over the sinews that made up her body, threatening to rip apart and expose her for what she really was under flesh. Oh, if she could crawl out of herself and be free. She had to do something. Her hands itched to scale the walls around her.

"Carpathia, are you alright?"

"What?" Carpathia answered, humming to herself. She was hearing the music and yet it filtered through her ears, the words as elusive as sand in the wind. It was fucking brilliant. Her head swayed forward, then back again, disconnected from her body. "Where's Al?"

Was there something I was going to do? I can't remember.

Isabel dropped her hand, and the motion was like gravity turning up on its head, dragging Carpathia to the floor. "I don't know. I thought you were with him."

The pounding in Carpathia's heart was now in her head, expanding like a balloon behind her cranium, filling out into the walls of her skull. Her eyes were level with Isabel's chest, and she drilled her mind into focus on a solitary unbuttoned button on her blouse. The beautiful gold-colored piece remained static as the world swirled around them.

"Help-" The words barely escaped Carpathia's lips audibly. She pressed her hands against her temples, trying to stop her brain from leaking out of her ears.

"Oi!"

When her head turned to the sound of the person calling at her, there was another thunderclap and the world exploded into a myriad of colors, bouncing off another in a way that was physically impossible and yet still the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

"Hey, you! You alright?" Isabel's flustered expression had vanished and was replaced by the face of James Potter.

"Al…" murmured Carpathia, her jaw still hanging as James's face appeared to her in a bobble of flourescent orange and purple.

"Shit. I know you." His hands cupped the sides of her face, replacing where her hands had been. She gasped in relief that he was applying the correct pressure, afraid that if he'd miscalculated the storm in side her head would cause her head to explode. Clearly, her display of relief did nothing to dissuade him. He shook her brusquely. "Carpathia. Can you tell me what happened to you?"

"James." Isabel's voice, high with anxiety, echoed in from the distance. "She was there. She saw-"

"Saw what?" Anger ripped out of James' mouth and Carpathia could feel every syllable as clearly as someone had torn hair out of her skin. She squeezed her eyes closed. "That's right. Nothing. This didn't happen."

Carpathia moaned. "Where's Devon?"

"Right," said James, considerably gentler, "You are absolutely fucked and we are going to get you some answers."

"James, I-"

"Don't touch me, Marrieto. It's cocked up enough as it is."

This had evidently chased Isabel off, because James put his hands on Carpathia's shoulders and was steering her towards a table. Carpathia gripped the solid surface like it was a life-raft. "Merlin's beard, what are you on?"

"Where's Devon?" gasped Carpathia, trying to shake away the blinding colors. "He was there one minute, then he was gone, and I think he gave me..." She almost said the 'P' word, but it tumbled down her throat in a moment of common sense.

She could only register James' eyes on her, tense and furious. "What. Are. You. On?"

She gazed at the sticky, wooden floor. "I don't want to get him in trouble."

James swore. "Bloody Lynch and his clan. You're a mad lot, aren't you?" He took her hand, and she reigistered his fingers, warm and clammy, "Don't let go." He raised his head and barked, "Move!" They drifted through the crowd, and then she heard James shout, again, "Stormwallis!"

"James?" It was Erin's voice that replied. She appeared before them, her features laced with confusion. "What do you want?"

"Where the fuck is Devon Lynch?"

"Christ, Potter, loosen up. Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is that they sent his wand to Dublin."

Wand. Dublin.That didn't make any sense, argued Carpathia's dull rationale. "What happened to his wand?"

Erin's voice elevated in shock. "Thia? Is that you? What's the matter?" Carpathia felt the girl's hands on her forehead. "You're shivering."

"I'm…" But Carpathia could only recall her last moment with Devon, the faint brush of his lips against her head as she'd put her top back on. His hand grazed her cheek briefly. Sorry, love, that didn't hurt, did it?"Why isn't he going to London? Why didn't he say goodbye?"

"Why would he be going to London?"

"He's meeting his father there."

"Right," said James slowly, "What have you heard?"

The world spun dizzyingly around her. "We slept together."

Erin put her face in her hands, and when she looked up again, her expression was distraught. "Fuck. Oh you silly, silly bint. Come on, we've got to find Keegan and Adara." Carpathia felt her friend's cool hands on her own but they did nothing to push back the onrising tide of panic. "Potter, feel free to head back to your own party."

James caught Carpathia's shoulder firmly as she tried to break away. "No, I'm coming."

"Suit yourself."

Carpathia's fists clenched and she steadied her voice with a shaky breath. "What is going on?"

AAA.

Al wasn't entirely sure when he sobered up, but he became suddenly aware that the compartment, which had been previously filled to the brink with Gryffindors, was now empty except for Scorpius, Gareth, Chantal, and himself. The realization came as a surprise. He hadn't even registered how much of a good time he'd been having.

Then the train jerked to a stop, throwing the three of them against the wooden panel that lined the overhead compartments. Scorpius fell to the ground, swearing.

"What was that?" groaned Al, climbing back to his seat. He drew open the curtain and registered the dark clouds rolling over stretches of pasture. "We haven't reached a station."

The seats beneath them rattled as the engine continued to hum in hiatus. Then, after a considerable amount of pause, the train whistled to life, expelling a clouds of exhaust that pulsed gently against the window. Gareth frowned against the glass. "Did someone get off?"

"What makes you say that?"

Gareth pointed. "Ye reckon that looks like panic mail?"

A flock of owls hurtled past their window in a perfect, precise sweep, each one of their talons encapsulating a bright, scarlet envelope. They rocketed upwards and onwards, towards the glittering sea of lights that was London.

"Feck," breathed Gareth, his voice tinged with caution as they peered out and watched the flock disappear into a faint dot in the distance, "The Hogwarts Express has only lost two passengers the whole time it's been running. The train's going mad."

"What reason would anyone have to do that? We're nearly bloody there." said Scorpius, no doubt still irritated that a lovely, purple lump was spreading across his forehead. Chantal, who had momentarily disentangled from him during the hiatus casued by the incident, had crawled back into very close proximity and was now comfortably locked to his side again.

"Someone who has very good reason not to be near the Ministry of Magic," she said.

Al frowned. "Like who?"

Chantal's tongue clicked in impatience. "Haven't you heard? I suppose it was all very hushed up, but given a small place like this, the gossip mill must have finished churning out the backwater by now."

Al exhaled. "Will you do me the pleasure of divulging what you already want to tell us so badly?"

"I thought you might have heard from Carpathia."

"What are you on about?" said Al, and a cold sense of foreboding washed over him.

Chantal shrugged nonchalantly. "Devon Lynch, of course. He never graduated with the rest of his class. They expelled him."

AAA.

"Little C." Adara's cool voice seemed to pull her out of the watery depths of her mind, and Carpathia blinked several times, quickly trying to piece together where she was.

They were sitting in a quiet compartment now, away from the music—just her, Erin, James, and Adara. When that had happened, she wasn't sure, but she took a shaky breath and was relieved to be able to hear the sound of her own voice.

"She's fucked," said James bluntly. "And if something happens to her I'll never hear the end of it at home, so explain, Silvas."

Adara tutted. "That's what happens when you give underage witches a potent, illegaldrug." She turned to Erin with a placating shake of her head. "I asked her to stay away from him, you know, but she wouldn't listen."

"Goddammit, Adara," burst out Erin angrily, and she took a step closer as though she was about to take a swing at her. "This isn't funny！Look at her!"

"Sorry, but I'm not the one who fed her the pills," continued Adara in that same cool voice, though there was now an undercurrent of fire beneath her words. "So he's bolted now, hasn't he? I had a feeling when the train stopped…there were about several dozen Howlers sent off in every direction. Someone must have helped him out. The wards on this train are protected by extremely powerful magic."

"I don't—I don't care. What does that have to do anything?" said Carpathia, putting her head in her hands.

"Your boyfriend gave you pills so you wouldn't tell anyone when he snuck off," said Adara a matter-of-factly, "And he's tangled up in some serious shite."

"He sedated me," said Carpathia slowly, as though it was just beginning to hit her. "He said they were just pills to help me relax."

But it came to her then, simultaneously shocking and unsurprising, like old wounds reopening from a freshly sharpened knife. It'll help you relax. She could remember the feeling of docility overcoming her inhibitions as he'd begun undressing her, and then the feeling of a second pill sliding in between her lips when he had kissed her tenderly. That second pill…she could recall the small, circular edges, the smell and taste of peonies, oh how stupid she had been.

Devon Lynch had tricked her.

There was a palpable silence, and Erin pounded the wall with a furious choke. "Goddammit, Adara."

"Ditto, Silvas, before I go mad myself," ground out James.

"Merlin's beard, nothing's going to happen now that she's with us, alright?" snapped Adara, though she did sound shaken. "This is the whole story, I promise you. I'd known for a while that Devon had acquired a supply of Pegasus pills and was feeding them to a younger student. I knew that it was Carpathia, of course, and I decided to look into it not because I was jealous - " She shot Erin a scathing look, "But because Devon has never gotten so close to anyone in such a short space of time. There was something suspicious about all of it, so I snuck into his room and found evidence of his money laundering problems."

"I knew about that," mumbled Carpathia, suddenly very tired.

"Darling, it wasn't the money laundering, it was who. There were letters in his trunk, burnt around the edges, no address or any indication over who had sent them except for a crest at the bottom of the pages…a black hand with a serpent wrapped around the wrist. And the words in these letters…they weren't just threatening him, they sounded like…" Adara paused, and her eyes flickered to James. "There was a line that said that if Devon mentioned anything about the pills, anything at all, they would make him 'disappear like the old days'. The old days. Doesn't any of that sound familiar to you?"

There was silence in the compartment, and then James cleared his throat. "Go on."

"I didn't bother reading another word. I got straight out of there and went to the Headmaster's office to report that Devon was in possession of illegal drugs. I didn't mention you or the letters, even though Longbottom practically groveled for details. Despite what—what you may think of me, the last thing I am is…" Adara's spine straightened and she looked at Carpathia in the eye with conviction. "I care about him too."

Carpathia simply waited for the other shoe to drop.

"Well, the Ministry became involved to confiscate the drugs, and because Devon's of age, the consequences were ugly…"

She hesitated, then continued. "They said he was going to have to be tried at Wizengamot and that his sentence could be up to two years in Azkaban, depending on the outcome. Hogwarts expelled him, of course, and Devon was tagged with a spell that would allow his whereabouts to be constantly monitored until the very minute he arrived at King's Cross and the Aurors could take over."

Adara gazed at Carpathia with a look that was almost akin to pity. "I truly am sorry. I wanted to believe he was innocent, but he's gone now. It doesn't look good."

Carpathia took a deep shaky breath. Erin reached out to her, mouth opening to explain, but Carpathia stood her ground and the words tumbled out, filled with venom: "You lot should have told me."

She stood up on swaying limbs, feeling oddly numb. There was no pain, no anguish, not even anger. Just…emptiness. She felt as if she had been poured empty.

"We were supposed to be friends," she said quietly.

James got to his feet. "Listen. I think you ought to head to-"

"Impendimenta!" shouted Carpathia, and as the flash of light sparked out of her wand and prompted James to slam against the back of the compartment, she bolted into the darkness, eyes seeing nothing but the red of pain that swelled from her chest. When the stream of music reached her ears again, the red bloomed before her in all the colors of the world and she let down her last conscious mental defense so that it would engulf her completely.

AAA.

"Pegasus," echoed Al with a dull click of revelation. So Devon had been on drugs—and not only drugs, but illegal, deport-worthy drugs. Why was he so entirely unsurprised?

"Ah oui, such a large scandal. Ministry authorities conducted an investigation to ensure it wasn't happening to other students. Mr. Lynch was in quitesome trouble," reported Chantal with a reproachful shake of her head.

Gareth seemed to be wrestling an inner battle of staying put or leaving the compartment to put a hole through someone's wall. His face was morphing into a nasty shade of scarlet. "But Carpathia's been—been—fraternizing with—d'ya think she knows?"

"She wouldn't do something so stupid," replied Scorpius in confident tones, though his forehead was etched with heavy lines of contemplation. "She would have told someone. At least she would have told you, Potter. "

Al stayed silent, his mind whirring furiously in rage and dread. What had he been doing the last two weeks? Why could he not recall seeing Carpathia at all? What if he had missed something critical?

"I haven't seen her in days," said Gareth, numbly. "But I never…I never thought…"

There was something niggling at the edge of Al's mind like an incessant worm. What was it, exactly? A word, a phrase that he had heard in passing.

"See ya later, Pegs."

The way Devon spoke to her. The way she had smiled when he'd walked by and brushed her arm with a passing hand, her cheeks reddening to a secret only they shared. He had remembered his own feelings of bewilderment and annoyance upon realizing Carpathia's new friendship with this odd, naturally charismatic fellow. He remembered questioning her about the nickname in an attempt to make a jab at their relationship, and how she had simply shrugged it off and refused to answer.

Now, of course, he knew.

"Gareth," he said suddenly, his hands tightening. "We need to find her. Now." His heart raced as he grabbed his jacket and opened the compartment door. He turned and found Gareth still rooted to his seat, staring up at him helplessly.

"For fuck's sake, Nott, move your negligent arse before I stick something very sharp and pointy up it," he snapped, and even Scorpius' eyes widened at the venom in Al's tone.

He headed down the dim-lit corridor without bothering to see if Gareth was following. It abruptly occurred to him that James' wheelie soiree, while bloody epic and whatnot, posed quite a safety hazard to the younger passengers on the train. He could barely see where he was going and he doubted first-years would have had better luck.

"Potter, wait up," he heard Gareth's footsteps echoing behind as he called out, but Al ignored him and rounded the corner—

Smack! His glasses swung off his face as he collided into a solid figure. He recognized the grunt of pain immediately from the other party. The world blurred into a swirling mass of dots. He touched a pair of hands he knew and, in them, felt the familiar plastic shape of his glasses.

"I keep telling dad contact lenses are a smart investment," said James dryly as Al readjusted his vision.

"James," breathed Al, grasping his brother by the arm. At his touch a spasm of pain crossed James' features. "I need to find-"

"Carpathia," finished James brusquely, shaking Al's hand off, "I know. I was with her, but she's gone now so I came to find you."

"You were—Bloody hell, nevermind. She's gone?" said Al incredulously, "What do you mean, she's gone? Why would let her go off like that?"

James closed his eyes. "Never satisfied, are you?" He opened his eyes again and gazed at Al with an indeterminable, stiff expression. "She was off her tits on something bad, Al. That bloke Lynch…he fed her pills Dad would have him locked up for, and now he's on the run and who knows what he did to her before he left. I tried to stop her but she was upset and threw a punch of a hex. I had the wind knocked out of me."

There was a ringing in Al's ears as he understood James' words. Gareth inhaled sharply and began to swore profusely, his words going up in register with every passing second.

He's been giving it to her, and I didn't notice. It was the guilt that tore Al apart the most.

"Where was she headed?"

"Back of the train."

Al had heard enough. He pushed past James with the feeling that he was going to hex the first person who got in his way.

"Al, what can I-"

"You can help by going to get help."

Al heard his brother mumur his assent, and as he plowed through the dim hallway he heard Gareth's panting and his steady stream of dark muttering from behind. They reached the first compartment and Al wrenched open the door. A couple third-years years stared back at him over a game of Gobstones. Not Carpathia. Al slammed the door shut.

Next compartment. Two sixth-years locked heavily in a snog-fest. Nope, not Carpathia.

After the fifth compartment, the tension building up in Al's ribcage seemed to spill over in panic and he swore loudly in the corridor, kicking the wall while Gareth watched silently. He then promptly found himself facing a girl in a plaid shirt and pigtails, who had halted in her tracks and was now staring at him rather bemusedly.

Al's brain lit up when he realized he recognized her. It was one of Isabel's friends—Tracey, no, Tricia.

"Hey! Listen, have you seen Carpathia Nott?"

The girl's nose scrunched in distaste. "Shouldn't you be with Izzy?"

It occurred to Al suddenly why he'd never enjoyed the company of Isabel's friends. "Dealing with a bit of an issue here. Please."

"Well, I know Izzie's been looking for and don't think she'd be pleased to hear that you're spending time with Nott instead of her."

"Bloody hell, Iz was supposed to be with you-" Al started, but then shook his head in exasperation at Tricia's stern expression and folded arms. It seemed that no one was really where they were supposed to be at the moment. "Just tell me if you've seen Carpathia."

Tricia sighed irritably. "I saw her walk through the rear-door just behind me. We're in the last compartment so there's nothing out there except for a little platform where passengers aren't allowed. Makes the perfect smoking spot, but I've never gone out there myself. I was always afraid of falling onto the tracks but that's Carpathia, I suppose." She eyed Al with a pointed look. "Weird girl, y'know?"

Gareth, who had heard every word, looked as pale as a sheet. "Did she…did she look alright?

"Tch. Anything but," said Tricia with an emphasis. "She was crying and laughing and looked all sorts of mental. Dunno what she was on, but I'd like to get some of that—Oi!" she protested as the two boys roughly pushed past her.

Al's heart was pounding so loud that he could hear it in his ears. They had learned about magical drugs during Madam Curatis' Health and Safety class in their fourth-year, and Pegasus had been one of its darkest units. A drug with intense hallucinogenic properties, it was used as part of the recruitment effort during the march of Death Eaters across Great Britain. The false sense of euphoria during these hallucinations helped enhance docility for those under the Imperius curse, but left victims mad once the curse had been lifted, thanks to the commonly recorded effect known as 'flight'.

The rows of text displaying instances of PEGASUS deaths in Al's books suddenly sprung to life in his mind.

Dee Waxbury, a Healer from St. Mungo's, jumped off a building under the assumption she was able to fly. Reggie Creetripe, lead singer of the Dark Art Boys, was electrocuted on a telephone wire after hallucinating that he had become a bird…Alfred Button, former head of the department of state affairs in the Ministry of Magic, found dead in the Ministry courtyard after consuming pills containing hallucinogens that prompted him to leap out of his office window…

No, he thought. Not Thia.

They had reached the end of train. Al hung back, fear shuddering through his veins, and Gareth twisted open the door handle of the rear-door. A blast of wind greeted them as they stepped onto the platform in trepidation. Al stood, frozen, as the train tracks and trees rushed dizzyingly past them.

Then, his mind registered what he was seeing. There, standing at the edge of the railing with her back turned towards them, was a figure dressed all in black. Her short, inky hair flapped in the fierce wind.

"Carpathia!" shouted Gareth, fear alive in his voice. "Don't jump!"

Don't jump,that's what Al wanted to say, but the words were ripped out of his mouth. His heart was pumping so loudly that he felt as though his head would burst, and the heat in his bloodstream that had been a result of continuous alcohol-consumption and the thought of Carpathia's body colliding onto the train-tracks was really all too much…

The last thing Al registered before he lost consciousness was Carpathia raising her arms, as though she was about to take off in flight.

AAA.

"Wake up, you twat."

Al blinked open his eyes, and the first thing he saw was Gareth's stricken expression melt into one of absolute scorn.

They were sitting in a clean compartment, the windows drawn open. The rows of residential housing that lined central London coasted steadily past them. A cool female voice radiated through the intercom…

"…train now ten minutes till King's Cross. Please be advised that there will be extra checks upon disembarking the train due to a security concern. Again, there will be extra checks on the platform. Additionally, students who have been caught responsible for the degradation of the Hogwarts Express will be notified by their Head of House by mail over the consequences of their actions…parents have been notified by owl…

"What a nightmare for the Hogwarts Express, eh?" said a soft familiar voice that made Al's entire body loosen with relief. "I suspect with the additional checks James won't be able to conceal the bottles of booze so easily, but too bad Mr. Potter is too nice of a father to do anything about it."

Al sat up, clutching his head as the blood rushed to his brain, and turned towards the source of the voice. A rush of happiness greeted him as he noted Carpathia perched on the other side of the compartment, her legs tucked beneath her. Her silver eyes shone bright with composure, but her hands—Al swallowed-her hands trembled in her lap.

"You're alright," he said, a little stunned, because she was. "I thought you—you were going to-"

"Jump?" finished Carpathia with a wan smile, "Bit melodramatic, don't you think?"

"You fainted, Potter," snorted Gareth with derision.

Al turned pink. "Don't tell Malfoy."

A smile had begun to form on Gareth's lips. "We had to carry you back inside."

Al groaned, and Carpathia swatted her brother's arm. "Leave him alone, Gareth. You were worried too." She smiled quietly to herself. "It was…unexpected."

"Of course I was worried," growled Gareth, facing his sister with a murderous expression. "I'm your bloody brother, not some swotty nancy-boy who thinks he's Albus feckin' Dumbledore but can't hold his stomach." Al flushed even redder. "Wait till mum and dad-"

"No," said Carpathia, her voice injected with panic. "Please, Gareth, not a word."

"But he hurt you."

"Adara never mentioned my name and I'd do anything to keep it that way. Please, I'm asking you to do something for meand not for them. No one has to know what happened to me and Devon Lynch, not after today." Her face stiffened in resolve. A steely glint had appeared in her eyes, and just like that, her frailty was gone. "Not until I find him."

The tension in Gareth's expression fell apart, and he sighed, putting his hand against hers for several moments. It struck Al how similar the two of them looked just then, their dark heads pressed together and their identical pale faces lined side-by-side.

"I'm sorry, y'know," Gareth mumbled gruffly, and Al could have sworn he heard tears in his voice. "I know I act like it doesn't matter to me, but I ought to know when people like-like Devon Lynch are taking advantage of ya…" he shook his head, and wiped his eyes angrily. "I just didn't know how to talk like we used to. After you were Sorted, I dunno, things fell apart, and I didn't want Dad to think that I'd turned-"

"It's alright," replied Carpathia gently. "I know what home's like. I've been there."

"It's not fair to you," objected Gareth in a firmer tone. "It's s'not. At all." She nodded, tiredly, and he kissed his sister's cheek briefly.

"Gareth?" asked Carpathia in the same gentle tone. "Could I have a word with Al? Alone?"

Gareth hesitated momentarily, but then he fixed an evaluative gaze on Al and something in his defensive stormy-grey eyes crumbled. It was, finally, a look of trust. "Yeah, alright. I'll be just right down the hall." He headed for the door, turned the handle, and then told his sister before he disappeared out into the corridor.

A heavy silence followed Gareth's departure, until Carpathia finally found her words.

"You know, I-"

"It doesn't matter," grounded out Al firmly, reaching over and taking her hand. "I was never the type to sayI told you so'. I just wanted you to be alright. That's all I've ever wanted for you. You are—you are alright, aren't you?" He inquired anxiously, watching her cheeks quiver.

"Not now, not yet, but I will be," she said. Her eyes were tinged red, and Al had a feeling it had taken her everything to hide her emotions from Gareth. "I slept with him, Al. After telling myself for years that I wasn't ever going to be taken for a fool or let anyone walk over me…all I can feel now is Devon's footprints."

Al squeezed her hand fiercely. "Have I mentioned that I'm going to beat his brains out?"

Carpathia choked out a laugh. "If you don't faint first."

Al responded to that tease with a serious look. "I have a few tricks up my sleeve, Nott, I'll have you know. I am Slytherin's Quidditch Captain."

"Well that settles it then," she replied with a smile. A perturbed expression suddenly crossed over her features, and he knew that there was something else on her mind.

"What is it?"

"I found a letter," she said. "In my pocket."

"From Devon?"

With the hand that wasn't joined to his, she slipped into her pocket and withdrew a piece of folded parchment that has inked with a drawing of a black hand in its right hand corner. "I was trying to read it out on the platform. I needed to be away from everyone else, and I wanted the satisfaction of throwing it onto the tracks after I was done."

"What does it say?" asked Al in low tones, glaring at the parchment so furiously that he hoped it would simply disintegrate before his eyes.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I stood out there for ages, deciding whether or not I should open it, but I couldn't do it." She paused. "I was hoping you would. Maybe there's something in there that could help the authorities."

"Me?"

"Yes," she said slowly, handing him the parchment with shaking fingers. "I trust you more than anyone. If you tell me there's something to read, then I'll read it."

Her earnestness prompted his anger to abate, and Al took the parchment silently with his fingers.

"Alright." He unfolded the parchment and, feeling Carpathia's eyes on him, skimmed through the lines, imagining Devon's swotty voice in his mind.

Dear Carpathia,

You probably hate me. And you'd be right to do so.

I'm an arse beyond all imagining, worse than my father, who—as you know—was always a step away from dying spectacularly in my head. Anyway, I'm not writing this to talk about me or to gain any sympathy.

I do care about you. Let me say that first. I care for you because you saw me in a way no one ever has. You also saw a lie, but that doesn't matter, because I felt for a moment that the two of us could have been that version of ourselves for each other, even if it wasn't how it began.

How it began was simple. I became entrapped in something so malicious that I could no longer find my way out. Powerful people came looking for me, and no matter how I tried, there was no stopping them. Have you ever seen power that even gold can't touch? It inspires more fear than any beast or authority figure. You were my way out. You made me feel for a moment that it wasn't happening because you, Pegs, love people to the point where reality disappears.

I can only apologise for realizing too late how wrong it was not to give you the whole truth until after we slept together. I was a bloody selfish fellow and couldn't stand to have you look at me any differently. It's better now for you to hear it with everyone else. It's better that you also never find out where I am going so I'm sorry, for a second time, to subject you to what you swore you'd never do again. It was the only way to slip past you.

I haven't much time left to write this. I cast a sobering charm on you so that the effects of the drug would wear off faster. Don't want you hurting yourself, Pegs.

Perhaps one day we'll get the chance to meet again. Perhaps you'll be with someone new, maybe even that Albus Potter you were always such close friends with. I just want you to be happy.

Well, fuck. There's no time left. I am truly, terribly sorry.

-Devon.

Al stared at the parchment for several long moments, turmoil gathering in the pit of stomach. The hand that was holding Carpathia's suddenly felt very, very prominent.

"Anything worth noting?" inquired Carpathia with a tinge of anxiety, no doubt having noticed the change in Al's expressions.

He exhaled and tucked the parchment into his pocket without another second's hesitation. "Nothing that you don't already know."

Carpathia's eyes stayed on his to check for any uncertainties, but when he returned her gaze with a smile, she smiled back and embraced him. He held her then, inhaling the familiar scent that emanated from her soft black hair. She had always smelled like pepper and wood-oak, like an outlandish creature from the forest. It was something that had always been a constant in Al's life, and in that moment, he didn't want to let go.

But of course they had to when the train finally pulled into the station. Because no matter how much Al wanted to ensure that Carpathia would be fine, always, he could not watch her indeterminably. They promised to see each other over the summer, and Al made her swear that she would write him if she ever felt that she needed to talk about what happened.

With that last thought hanging between them, they walked over to their respective families. Carpathia embraced James fully in thanks and he responded with an awkward but brashful smile. And then, after a last exchange of looks with Al, she turned towards her stony-faced parents with Gareth in tow.

Following Carpathia's departure, life reverted back to normal. There was no mention of drugs and runaways. James laughed off his father's reprimands over the alcohol stink on their breaths with a comment that 'there would, always would be, trouble at Hogwarts'. Rose, despite her despondency on the train, was surprisingly chipper as she hugged Rowan goodbye and vowed to get him the most "unbelievably unbelievable birthday present indeed" for August.

And, of course, there was Isabel. Isabel, who could light up Al's world with just the mere sight of her walking towards him. Isabel, who Al was finally able to introduce to his parents with a sheepish grin, prompting his mother to raise her eyebrows so high that Lily quipped they would need to accio them back to earth. Isabel, who momentarily drove away Al's concerns about Carpathia because he could not stop thinking in that moment how perfect she was, despite the look of embarassment that graced her features as she shook his father's hand and the shadow that passed, unnoticed in the background, across James Potter's face.

The importance of that shadow was lost to Al, for it hadn't occurred to him that peace in life could be so elusive. If the trainride had been any indication, it seemed they still had a lot more growing up to do.

AAA.

Reviews appreciated!

~MIssusWitch