Chapter Two

Three years later…

A bell chimes from somewhere in the history wing of Columbia University's large, sprawling campus, releasing dozens of eighteen- to- twenty-two-year-olds from their final exam of the semester. The once-quiet halls come to life as the students file out of their classrooms into the corridors, laughing and chatting and making plans for the weekend. One in particular, though, stands out, because he is the only student not searching for friends from another class to complain about the exams they have just taken, or discuss which clubs to hit in order to blow off steam after finals. He makes his way through the growing crowds, focused solely on getting out of here and heading home.

Justin Russo, now twenty years old, cut a sharp figure, even in his worn old gray hooded sweatshirt and ripped not-on-purpose jeans. Three years have been kind to him – he attracts more than a few female stares as he cuts through the crowds. But, as usual, he never even spares a glance their way, and eventually they give up and return to their more-willing counterparts.

Fighting his way out of the history wing, Justin heads towards the subway station on 116th Street, appropriately named Columbia University Station, where he finally has a moment to stop and rest before the subway screeches into the station.

It's been three years since the fateful night at the museum. Justin, now a junior at Columbia University as a history major, has grown up to be an extremely intelligent and practical wizard and a successful monster hunter. He's even started teaching at WizTech in his spare time, a new class on the history of the magical world and how it relates to the present.

But with Max's eighteenth birthday looming in just under six months, every (far and few between) family get-together is feeling the stress of the upcoming competition. Justin and Alex always make excuses to be out of the loft when their dad is teaching Max magic lessons, and even Alex's using magic to clear the table causes the whole family to tense, an ever-present reminder that soon only one of the Russos will have their powers.

A loud screeching sound as the subway car comes to a stop at the station, jolting Justin out of his thoughts. After a twenty-minute subway ride, followed by a five-minute walk, Justin finds himself back on a familiar street.

"God, it's good to be home again," Justin says to himself, walking down the street that he used to come down every day in high school on the way home. He hasn't been back here much since he left home to go to college; it brings back too many unpleasant memories. Not much has changed – there's the ice cream parlor, and the bookstore, and vintage clothing store that Alex loved, and…

A lump the size of a baseball lodges itself in Justin's throat as he passes a very familiar building. The space was bought out and turned into a nail salon over two years ago, when the elder van Heusens moved away, but the stubborn neon sign still remains, only partially obscured by a flimsy paper sign. Swallowing his tears, Justin hurries past what used to be the Late Nite Bite and doesn't stop running full-speed until he reaches the familiar brightly-colored building of the Waverly Sub Station.

"Justin!" his mother's familiar voice calls from somewhere inside, and before he's even stepped two feet into the restaurant she's barreling towards him full-speed, nearly knocking him off his feet with a full-body hug (quite surprising, since he's grown a couple inches in the last few years and she's remained the same petite height). Her hair is streaked with new, unfamiliar gold, a nice contrast to the caramel-brown curls, and her face, lined slightly with age, is the same as it always was. A fuchsia-pink V-neck sweater and dark jeans adorn her body under the omnipresent white apron, and she teeters on spiky fuchsia pumps that nearly bring her to his height. "Mi hijo, how I've missed you! Why don't you come home more often?"

"Sorry, Mom," he says, extracting himself from her tight grip. Having just been confronted with the reason he's avoided Waverly Place whenever possible, he simply replies, "You know college life. Demanding professors, lots of papers, all-nighters… the time disappears before I know where it's gone."

She looks at his face, smoothing his unruly dark hair with her manicured nails. "You look tired, mi hijo. Are you sure you're getting enough sleep in college? And you're taking care of yourself? Eating right?"

"Yes, Mom," he says, rolling his eyes.

"Honestly, Justin, you don't look so good. Try and relax while you're at home. Heavens know you look like you could use a hot shower, a good meal, and a long nap."

"It's just finals, Mom," he insists, making his way into the restaurant as it occurs to him that standing by the door and having this conversation probably isn't the best idea. "Everyone gets worn out around finals."

"Well, if you say so," she says, her pink-painted lips turning into a pout-frown that she'd mastered long ago, although usually used when Alex did something particularly crazy. "But worn-out or not, I miss my Justin. Can't you come home more?"

Justin hates to see Theresa upset, but at the same time, he knows that promising her that he'd try would be pointless. Because even if his overbearing schedule ever allowed time to return to Waverly Place besides the obligatory twice-a-year at Christmas and spring break, he knows in his mind that he never would. "We'll see, Mom," is all he says, bringing his bags up the spiraling staircase to his old room, which thankfully looks almost exactly the way he left it.

When he heads down the stairs, another familiar voice shrieks his name, and instantly he's enveloped in another huge hug. "Oh Justin, it's so good to see you again!" she exclaims, and even though three years have changed all of them in many ways, Harper is still mostly the same crazy girl she was in high school.

When she finally releases him, he examines her latest crazy outfit. Surprisingly, she seems to have toned down her wardrobe a bit – a simple black sweater and a bright red miniskirt over opaque black tights and red suede platform pumps, no food or animal prints or big plastic accessories anywhere in sight. Her auburn hair hangs down her back, a straight curtain nearly to her waist, topped by a black headband, and little tiny ladybug earrings dangle in her ears – the one reminder of the Harper Finkle from high school.

"Harper, stop attacking my brother," comes a sarcasm-tinged voice as familiar to him as the air he breathes. Alex sets down her bags and pulls Harper off of Justin, before reaching in and squeezing him in a tight hug herself. Three years ago he would've pushed her away – three years ago she wouldn't have done it in the first place – but now he hugs her tight and breathes in the comforting scent of her… perfume? The idea of his sister wearing perfume is hard to comprehend, but so is the image of her standing in front of him, nineteen years old, a full-grown woman.

Her long, dark curls cascade down her back like their mother's, the clipped shoulder-length bob of her late high school years re-grown out again. Her petite, curvy teenage body has been replaced by a more grown-up figure – all straight lines and sharp angles, her cheekbones more prominent and her figure more… womanly. Gone are the crazy, bright colors and flowy printed fabrics of her high school years, replaced by dark skinny jeans, a white tank top, and a brown leather motorcycle jacket. Her boots are tall and brown leather with a wedge heel, and the faint line of her wand on the side is just prominent enough for someone to see – if they know what to look for, that is. Colorful, slightly ethnic beaded jewelry adorns her neck and wrists, with long dangly earrings to match nearly brushing her shoulders.

Justin attributes part of the look change to her studying fashion design at FIT with Harper. Who'd have thought Alex Russo – the girl voted most likely to wind up saying "Would you like fries with that?" behind a McDonald's counter – would be in design school, and actually like it? Their schools being in such close proximity, Alex is the one member of his family that Justin has stayed in constant touch with. Another improbability – Justin and Alex actually getting along.

But then again, the last few years have turned a lot of pre-conceived ideas about the Russo children on their ear.

"Alex! Harper! You're here!" Theresa cries, pushing Justin away so she can hug Alex. Alex rolls her eyes, but then smiles and hugs Theresa back.

"Mrs. Russo!" Harper squeals, throwing her arms around Theresa as well. "Thank you so much for letting me come home with Alex for the holidays."

"Nonsense, Harper," Theresa protests. "You know you're practically a part of the family." Harper beams, and Justin shakes his head at the thought. One crazy sister is enough; he doesn't need two. But ever since her parents' divorce, Harper has slowly but steadily become part of the Russo family… and Justin finds himself admitting she's actually not as bad now. Of course, part of the change might be that she's finally gotten over her scary crush on him and is now happily dating Zeke Rosenblatt, his best friend from high school. (It's weird, but maybe the two eccentricities balance each other out, somehow. They make each other happy, anyways, and that's all Justin cares about. At least someone should be happy, if it can't be him).

"Justin! Alex! Harper!" Jerry exclaims, bounding down the spiral staircase from the loft. "Theresa, why didn't you tell me our kids were home again?"

Theresa rolls her eyes behind Jerry's back as he hugs first Justin, then Alex, and finally Harper. "Hey Dad," Justin says warily, knowing he's due for another parental lecture on why he should come home more often.

To his delight, Jerry doesn't seem to want to lecture him today. "Justin! The Mets game is on and there's four-cheese pizza in the freezer. You want?"

Justin laughs and rolls his eyes; the children may have changed, but the Russo family elders will always be their same old selves. "Maybe later, Dad. Right now I want to catch up with–"

"Max!" Alex cries, as the door of the sub station swings open and their seventeen-year-old little brother walks in, his arms weighted down with textbooks. Max has grown into a handsome young man – like a taller, thinner version of Jerry. Of the three, Max has changed the least in these last three years. He's toned down his eccentricities and lost most of his wacky, childish sense of humor. He's also become surprisingly interested in school, although Justin attributes some of that change to his new girlfriend, Annaleigh Whitmore. Max was perhaps the least likely of all of them to be in a serious relationship, but Justin has met Annaleigh and he can't say he disapproves. Annaleigh is everything Max is not, and just what he needs. He couldn't be happier for his younger brother.

The fact that he ran out of the room as soon as he could when Max first introduced them has nothing to do with Annaleigh.

"Alex, Justin!" Max exclaims, dropping his books on the counter. "When did you guys get in? Sorry I'm so late – study group with Annaleigh."

"What were you studying? Chemistry?" Theresa raises an eyebrow and scolds him playfully. "Put your books away, mi hijo. We do run a restaurant here."

"Alright, Mom." Max rolls his eyes but lopes up the stairs, books in tow. When he returns, he turns to Justin, "Hey Justin. Good to see you again."

"You too, little bro," Justin returns, ruffling Max's hair playfully.

"You gotta come out with me tonight. Annaleigh's parents have tickets to the opening of a new gallery at the New York Hall of Science in Queens. When I told her my family were coming home this weekend, she managed to score tickets for all of us."

"You're gonna get Alex to go to a science museum?" Jerry raises her eyebrows in shock.

"No you're not!" Alex exclaims from behind the sandwich counter, where she's fixing herself and Harper some snacks. "Harper and I are meeting a bunch of friends from FIT tonight. We're going salsa dancing at this new club in the West Village and then catching a late-night movie."

"I thought the point of having everyone home for Christmas vacation is that we all spend time together," Theresa sighs. "You're all barely home for a day and already you're making plans with other people."

"So?" Alex asks, snapping her fruit-flavored gum. Theresa sighs.

"Justin, you're welcome to come with us if you'd like," Harper says, helping herself to some of the fruit Alex has sliced up.

"Just leave the dorky button-downs and khakis at home," Alex adds, and out of the corner of his eye Justin can see Theresa purse her lips. "I've got some menswear samples if you need them. Oh, who am I kidding? Of course you'll need them. I'll leave them outside my door for you."

"No way," Max exclaims. "Justin won't need them – he's coming to the New York Hall of Science with me and Annaleigh." Turning to stare at his big brother with eager eyes, Max adds, "Right, Justin?"

Justin tenses, his gaze bouncing from Alex to Max. Any other time he'd choose the museum without hesitation, but…

"Um, you know, I think I'm gonna stay home with Mom and Dad tonight," Justin decides finally, and behind him he can see that Jerry and Theresa are all big smiles. "Sorry, guys, but since both of you are going out, I'm gonna stay in. I've got a ton of extra-credit assignments to catch up on, anyway."

"Only you would do extra-credit over Christmas break," Alex rolls her eyes. "Harper and I are gonna go set up upstairs. We'll see you all later. Come on, Harper." Dragging their overstuffed suitcases behind them, the two girls disappear up the staircase.

Max heads around the side towards the sandwich counter, pulling out bread and assorted sandwich fixings from the side compartments. "Why didn't you want to come with me and Annaleigh to the museum?" he asks, starting to fix his sandwich.

"It's nothing personal, Max," Justin starts, trying to figure out how to not offend his brother. "I just… really need to get cracking on those essays."

"Is it something about Annaleigh? Last time you came home, well… you kinda bolted after I introduced her."

Justin swallows the lump in his throat, unsure what to say. Annaleigh is a lovely girl, sweet and charming and funny, but she reminds him too much of her. "N-no… really, Max, I just want to start my assignments."

"It's fine," Max says, staring at his sandwich. Justin knows that things are actually not fine, as Max put it, but, unable to do anything, he just stares out the window.

"I've got a lot of homework," Max says, piling his sandwich onto a plate and snagging a bag of chips off a hanging rack. "See you later, Justin."

"Yeah… later, Max," Justin replies, watching his brother head up the stairs with his snack.

"You okay, mi hijo?" Theresa asks from behind him.

"Just a little tired, that's all Mom," Justin replies.

"Well, if you're not interested, Justin, I'm gonna go watch the Mets game," Jerry announces. "Theresa?"

"No way," she declares. "I'm cooking. Our kids might be busy little city-hoppers tonight, but they're all staying in for dinner."

"Suit yourself," Jerry says, already halfway up the stairs. "You know where everything is, right Justin?"

"Yes, Dad," he says, rolling his eyes. Justin is twenty now – he doesn't need his parents to remind him where everything is in his own house. "Go watch your game."

Jerry doesn't need to be told twice; he bolts up the stairs, Theresa laughing and following at his heels. Finally, Justin is truly alone.

Pouring himself a glass of water from a pitcher, Justin wonders why he even bothered coming home at all. Clearly, his family functions just fine without him. And staying at Columbia would have been far better for him in the long run.

Not to mention, there's no reminders of her at Columbia.


"You sure I can't persuade you to stay any longer?" Theresa begs. "School doesn't start for another couple days – and you're only fifteen minutes away by subway."

"No, Mom, I have to get back. The Columbia library is far greater than the New York Public Library, and there's a couple books I need for a research project."

"I'm happy that you're so dedicated to your studies, sweetie, but do you really have to? It seems like we just got you and Alex back, and now you're leaving us again."

In hindsight, perhaps planning his return trip to Columbia on the same day Alex decided she had to go back to FIT to meet with someone about designing costumes for the student play wasn't the best idea. But there's only so much stewing in Memory Lane that Justin can take.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't exactly plan this. If it helps, I promise I'll try to come home more often." After the awkwardness of the first day, Justin actually managed to enjoy himself with his family. They had a wonderful Christmas together, and the Sub Station is still strewn with the remains of Alex's spontaneous New Year's party from the night before.

"Alright, honey," Theresa says, smoothing down Justin's hair. "I love you."

"Love you too, Mom."

The walk to the subway station is uneventful, as is the subway ride back to campus. After dropping off his meager duffel back at his dorm room – and a quick chat with his roommate about their respective holidays – Justin gathers his research and notes to take to the library. He knows the route by heart now, having paced it so many times before, so it's not hard to let his mind drift to other things.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry." Justin looks down to see all of his research on the floor, and a pretty blond girl kneeling down picking it up. "I can't believe I wasn't looking."

"It's no trouble," Justin says, automatically bending down to help her. Something about her voice is strangely familiar…

She hands him a pile of his papers, and as he looks up to get a glimpse of her face, his heart stops.

Staring back at him are the soulful brown eyes of Juliet van Heusen.