"Hey, um, can I talk to you?"

"Jace, I was just looking for you! Have you had anything to eat all day?" Emmara sounded faintly displeased, and he paused to think about it.

"Well, I guess not, but I wanted to—"

"Have you had anything to drink all day?" she asked severely. They were in the corridor just outside the Hufflepuff boys' dormitory, where he'd finally managed to track her down after class. He might've stayed a little late working with Ral in the independent studies room. He hadn't noticed what time it was, too wrapped up in his work and in the fact that this was the first time he'd really spent time with Ral all semester, which was honestly a little worrisome.

"Uh," he said, shaking his head, trying to get him mind back on the conversation with Emmara. You get to snog Ral if you break up with her, he reminded himself, then felt abruptly guilty for thinking it. Shuffling awkwardly, he tried to engage with the question she had asked him. "No, I haven't, I don't think. Emmara, I—"

"Here, have this, you idiot. I saved you some dinner." She pressed a sandwich into his hand—roast beef, his favorite—and the flask of water she always carried.

Jace squirmed, feeling even guiltier. "I really, um, this is kind of, um, I need to talk to you…" he trailed off.

"Eat and drink something, and then I will be happy to listen."

"I'm not—sure you'll be happy—" he said haltingly, but he took a bite of the sandwich and washed it down with a gulp of water just to appease her. She stepped forward, breasts brushing slightly against his front, leaned up and kissed his cheek, then rested her head softly against his shoulder.

"Merci, Jace. You know, I do worry about you. Now, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Jace's stomach twisted. She was so lovely, and so caring, and so thoughtful. She gave a little wriggle against him, and he remembered why he'd asked her out in the first place. That cute little toss of her hair. The adorable little smile. The curve and swell of her breasts even beneath her robes. God, she was beautiful. And she'd said yes to him, Jace Beleren, grubby, boring, nerdy legilimens. She wasn't bothered by the legilimency thing; unlike a lot of people, she found it fascinating. She'd helped him devise all kinds of tests for it—how could he have thought she didn't care if he succeeded at what he was good at? Potions just wasn't where his main talent lay.

"Um," he said. "Oh, it's nothing, I guess. I'm just really tired. And anxious."

She looked up at him from under her lashes. "I could help with that, perhaps?"

Biting his lip, Jace nodded, feeling heat creep up his ears and down his stomach. "Mm, yeah, that, um, that would be nice."

"Let me get those robes off," she breathed, pulling his head down for a long, lingering kiss. Funny, Jace thought vaguely as his hands slid down her shoulders, she smelled almost like the lab, that weird chemical smell mixed with ozone. It was strangely comforting.

Ral decided not to go to dinner. He figured, if he was just going to be dripping sparks everywhere, other people might be a little uncomfortable with him around. He'd been getting through to Jace—his friend had almost been fucking normal while they were playing around in the lab. Fuck, he'd almost thought—the way Jace was looking at him and brushing up against him, that just maybe he was actually—Ral shook his head fiercely. They'd always been pretty touchy-feely, especially for guys. Didn't mean that Jace thought of him that way. Didn't mean he thought of Jace that way, either. Obviously. He wasn't jealous, he told himself again, tiredly. It was starting to sound a little fake even to him.

Moodily, he kicked at a stone, and watched it skitter across the lake, sent a bolt of lightning shooting after it, and then guiltily realized he hadn't even formed the spell in his mind. It had just sort of—happened.

"Good evening, Mr. Zarek."

Ral jumped about a foot into the air, then whirled around to find Professor Lovegood standing behind him. She moved stupidly quietly. "Uh, hi," he said, shuffling his feet, and wondering if she'd seen his little lightning trick.

"Would you like some help with that?"

Ah, fuck. "With what?"

"The lightning." Lovegood smiled, tipping her head to one side. "You're quite talented with it. Elementalism, I expect. I'd ask if it runs in the family, but you're a Muggleborn, aren't you?"

"Elementalism?" Ral asked sharply.

"Oh, yes." The professor waved her hand. "It's more common in other places in the world, but I think Ms. Nalaar may be one as well. It's an affinity for a kind of magic dealing with a particular kind of element, sometimes it's a bit hard to control at first. I have some books on it, if you want."

Ral stared down at his hands and back up at her, feeling a little bit deflated. He'd been expecting to have to be on the defensive. "Um, thanks, sure," he said a little awkwardly.

"Don't worry about it, just be careful when you get emotional. It's generally good form not to electrocute the people around you."

"Electrocution means they die," Ral corrected automatically. "You mean shock."

"Oh, yes, it would be good if you could avoid that as well," Lovegood's smile widened, and Ral honestly could not tell if she was joking. "I hear you're working on a magical artifact to transform lightning kinds of things, too. I wonder if you could use it to control your own lightning?"

That was—an excellent idea. Ral liked that idea very much. Transforming and storing the electricity that he kept accidentally producing—that would make it so fucking easy to power stuff. Damn. Why hadn't he thought of that? He'd been too busy worrying about his lack of control and trying to make it stop. That was kind of annoyingly dumb. Stupid jerkbrain. He wanted to hit it. "Yeah, probably," he said, remembering that Professor Lovegood was still there. "Thanks."

"You seem a bit worried. Is there anything else you'd like to talk about?"

He shuffled his feet together. Was it worth it to tell her about Jace possibly-being-under-a-spell? Ral opened his mouth, then shut it again. He really did not want to hear about how he was just jealous again. He was tired of not being taken seriously. He sighed, then shook his head. "It's nothing. I'll be fine."

Jace hadn't realized that Chandra was even in the Hufflepuff girls' dorm when he went to look for Emmara, so he was definitely not expecting it when she punched him in the face. It hurt. Jace said, "ow!" indignantly, and then sat down. "Merlin, what the hell, Chandra?"

"You broke Ral's heart," she snapped. "I should be asking you that!"

"I did not!" Jace protested, dabbing at his nose. There didn't seem to be any blood.

"You bloody well did." She stood over him with her hands on her hips, and Jace cringed slightly.

"That's absurd," he said, as calmly as possible. "How could I possibly have done that?"

"Gee, I don't know, maybe by stringing him along and cuddling and all kinds of things—" Jace flinched at that, guiltily thinking back to their interactions the day before, "—for years, and then going and asking out a bitchy French girl instead of him? You guys were sleeping together."

"Okay, yes, but not like that! We've been through this about a thousand times!"

"It still counts!" They stared at each other, breathing hard. Jace was the first to look away, feeling faintly queasy.

"This is stupid," he said finally. "I wasn't stringing Ral along, and I haven't broken his heart. Have you seen Emmara?"

At the question, Chandra swelled up as if she was about to explode, but before she could actually punch him again, someone else called her name. "Have you seen Nissa?" Tamiyo asked. The small Ravenclaw gave Jace a rather bemused smile, and then looked back to Chandra.

"I was just looking for her," Chandra said, sending Jace another glare. "She's probably napping. We were up late last night—" Chandra paused, "—um, doing homework."

Still rubbing his nose, Jace got slowly to his feet. "Uh huh," he said. "I'm surprised she's in this dorm room," he said pointedly.

"Do you want me to hit you again?" Chandra snarled. "Sorry, Tamiyo. That's her bed, over there."

Tamiyo nodded in thanks and headed across the room, while Jace continued to watch Chandra nervously out of the corner of his eye. "Nissa," he heard Tamiyo say, "I'm sorry to wake you, but—Nissa?" Tamiyo looked up uncertainly. "Does she usually sleep this deeply?" she asked.

Chandra frowned. "No, she's a pretty light sleeper." She and Jace looked at each other, and Jace suddenly felt his heart skip a beat.

"Nissa?" he said as well and hurried across the room. Nissa was huddled in her bed, knees drawn up to her chest, eyes shut. He shook her shoulder, and her head lolled to the side. "Oh, Merlin."

"What is it?" Chandra's voice peaked with sudden terror. "Nissa?" She shouldered Jace out of the way and knelt beside the other girl. "Wake up! Hey!"

"Is she breathing?" Jace asked, suddenly terrified.

Chandra uttered a noise that, under other circumstances, might have been comical, a small, breathy squeak. She bent hurriedly over Nissa. "Ye-es," she said uncertainly after a minute. "Merlin, Nissa, please. Please wake up."

"I'll go get Madam Pomfrey," Tamiyo said in a small voice.

Jace stood back, not knowing what to do, trying not to stare as Chandra desperately tried to wake Nissa up. Finally, his friend took Nissa's hand and pressed it to her cheek in such an affectionate display that Jace suddenly wondered if the two of them were—he covered his face with his hands, thought about Elspeth, tried not to think about this happening to Ral. He felt as if he was going to be sick.

Harry sighed and paused to look out the window at the rapidly-darkening sky. What an evening. First, he'd had to convince Ron that no, Draco wasn't holding him hostage, yes, he wanted to be here. Then he'd had to convince Draco that Ron wouldn't fuck everything up simply by being there. He still didn't actually have a clue how Ron had found them or what he was doing here, because he'd been too damn busy trying to avoid the entire hotel room exploding.

"Hey, mate." They'd agreed Ron could at least stay the night, although Draco had been adamant that Ron would be taking the floor on the furthest side of the room from him. Harry, who'd heard a little about Ron's behavior toward Hermione and Draco in the recent years, was inclined to agree.

"D'you want to tell me what's going on now?" Harry said. Maybe he was a little snippy, but he'd actually been looking forward to having a little time by himself with Draco. Was that weird? It might be weird.

"I got worried about you!" Ron snapped back. "I wanted to talk to you about something, and when I found you, I figured out Malfoy was there as well, and you weren't at Hogwarts. Can you blame me?"

"You realize he hasn't been a threat in…" Harry counted on his fingers, laughed ruefully. "Merlin, almost ten years?"

"Yeah, well, he could've been playing a long game," Ron muttered, running a hand through his red hair. He held up a hand when Harry looked skeptically back at him. "I know I've been fucking up for a while now, but I've been trying to do better. I even got a therapist like you suggested."

Harry's eyebrows went up at that. He and Ron had had a screaming match a while back that had culminated in him yelling something about Ron needing a therapist—he hadn't expected that to be taken seriously, even if he thought it was true. Harry thought, rather guiltily, that he also probably needed a therapist, but he still hadn't been able to get himself to try and find one. He figured he'd be more comfortable with a Muggle, but that would present its own problems.

"I fucked up again," Ron admitted, and that was so surprising to hear from him that Harry turned slowly away from the window to look at him. "I shouldn't've assumed you couldn't take care of yourself, even if I don't like Malfoy. Sorry, mate."

"Yeah, well, apology accepted," Harry said warily. "So why were you looking for me?"

"I want to apologize to Hermione," Ron said, shuffling his feet on the carpet. "I haven't talked to her in a few years, and I miss her." He put a hand to his forehead. "But I don't want her to think it's a romantic thing, I just miss her as a friend. I mean, I still think she's gorgeous, but I don't fancy her anymore. And I really fucked everything up when we were together."

"Yeah, you did," Harry agreed, leaning back against the window. "But I think she misses you, too."

"Yeah?" Ron smiled a little. "I guess that's good. I was so fucking paranoid after everything, I just…my head was pretty bad there for a while."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Mine, too."

His friend nodded awkwardly. "It's not really how I thought life was supposed to go, I guess," he blurted, staring at the floor. "Y'know? I sort of thought we'd kill the evil wizard and then live happily ever after, me and 'Mione, you and Ginny. Have kids, send them to Hogwarts…and when it didn't happen like that, I didn't…" he trailed off again and shook his head. "I dunno. Don't think I dealt very well."

"Mmm." Harry shuffled his feet again. "I'm shite at this, you know," he said, abruptly.

"Oh, yeah, me, too, mate. Sorry for putting you on the spot."

"S'okay. Shake?" Harry put out his hand awkwardly, and Ron grinned at him and took it.

"I promise I'll fix things up with Hermione. Seriously, what are you doing all the way out here in the middle of nowhere, though?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Trying to track down a possible dark wizard," he admitted, and Ron's eyebrows went into his hair.

"With only Malfoy as backup?"

"We've worked well together the past few years," Harry said, aware that he sounded vaguely defensive.

"Well, I still don't like him," Ron answered.

"And I don't like you, Weasley." Draco was back from taking his shower, and Harry glanced over to see that he was wearing an emerald-green robe, open to the waist, his blond hair plastered wetly to his head. The strip of pale, damp skin down the center of his chest was oddly compelling, and Harry had to force himself to look away, in case Draco or Ron noticed he was staring.

"Oh, piss off, Malfoy," Ron said tiredly.

"Oy," Harry said. "I don't want you two getting into another argument. You're both my fuh—my friends—" (that was a strange thought) "—and we've got to figure this thing out, in case it really is something dangerous."

"Let me help," Ron said. "I'd feel better."

"If he wasn't alone with the ex-Death Eater, you mean?" Draco drawled. "I don't particularly want your company, Weasley."

Harry squirmed. He hated feeling as if he was playing referee or taking sides, but… "Draco, more people's not a bad thing," he said. "I trust Ron, and he's already helped me take out—well, you know. Voldemort."

Draco opened his mouth as if he was about to protest, then shut it again. "I suppose you are more experienced than I, Mr. Weasley," he said grudgingly. "As long as you've got Potter's back."

"Of course I have his back!" Ron said hotly. "It's you I'd be—"

"Ron! Shut the fuck up," Harry said before he could finish. "You're coming along. Just drop it."

Ron ground his teeth together and folded his arms, but he nodded. "Fine," he said. "I'll stay here tonight, get some supplies in the morning. Can you tell me what exactly we're looking for?"

"Happy to," Harry agreed warily, letting his eyes slide back to Draco for a moment. He couldn't read the expression on his friend's face, but he felt his stomach twist a little guiltily. He needed to get Draco alone at some point to talk, explain, maybe apologize. He'd find time, he promised himself. He would.

Ral was spending a lot of time skulking outside the hospital wing these days. First Elspeth, now Nissa. And now Elspeth wasn't waking up at all anymore. And Chandra had already had one dizzy spell bad enough that she'd fallen against him during Potions, but Madam Pomfrey still didn't know what was wrong. Now, given just how dismissive of Emmara Jace had been during their one individual study and how he'd promptly gone back to cooing over her mere hours later, Ral was one hundred percent positive that she had him under a spell and was probably also responsible for the "bug" going round the girls' dorm. After all, both Elspeth and Nissa were Hufflepuffs. Just like Emmara.

Naturally, no one was going to listen to him. It was first-year all over again, Ral thought irritably. But fine. He'd saved Jace once, he could do it again. Deciding to stop worrying indecisively and actually do something made him feel a lot better, but he still needed to figure out how to start.

The door to the hospital wing opened. "But—" someone was saying.

"I'm sorry," Madam Pomfrey's harassed voice said, "but as you are neither enrolled as a student here nor a relative of the young lady in question, I cannot let you see her."

"I am—"

"I don't care if you're the Prince of Whales, deary, the answer is still no." A small figure was maneuvered out of the hospital wing, and the door was shut in her face.

At first, Ral thought she was a child, since she couldn't have reached even five feet in height, but glancing down at her, he saw she definitely had too much figure for a child. The young woman looked up and frowned at him. "What?" she snapped.

"Sorry." He took a step backward.

The young woman breathed in and blew out her breath in a sigh, then waved a hand at him. "No, it's not your fault," she said glumly. "I was just hoping to see Elspeth, and apparently I am not 'permitted to do so'."

"Who are you?" Ral asked in confusion. She wore a long white robe trimmed with black edges and emblazoned in the center with a round circle with twelve large triangular protrusions radiating outward from it.

Drawing herself up to her full height, the girl answered, "I am Teysa Karloff of House Orzhov." Deflating slightly, she continued, "And I'm Elspeth Tirel's penpal."