Good morning, young hobbits! However, if it is not morning, or you are not a hobbit, I will just say 'hello'. So hello, humans who are currently experiencing some time of day that is not morning.

I know it's been a while, dear readers, but I... got distracted.

But fortunately, or unfortunately if you hate me, LoversForeverTogether sent me a review which inspired me to write again. It mentioned one Evan Rosier, who I have developed a strong liking for, and sent me into fits of giggles for reasons which are not obvious, not even to me.

I think I promised someone an Iggy centric chapter, but that will have to be later, because I tried writing one earlier, but got stuck. Also, my 'N' key got stuck, so there might be a few Ns missing here and there. Apologies for all the awkward moments where Fang is called 'Fag'.

Also, I still don't own the rights to Harry Potter or Maximum Ride. However, I am now the proud owner of some apple juice.

Eight: Scraps of What Used to Be

As we ate our breakfast - which, although it would've been considered amazing in our dumpster diving days, was downright pathetic by Hogwarts standards - I couldn't help but notice the disappearance of one Evan Rosier. Not that I was complaining, of course, but still, years of running from kidnappers had made me uneasy with people not turning up when they should be. Now, mind you, I'm not suggesting that Evan Rosier was kidnapped - after all, who'd want to kidnap a fourteen year old? And no, me and my flock do not count in that question. We're hardly normal, even by magical standards.

So as I devoured my second tiny box of cereal with milk that Will (the Ravenclaw I nearly killed when I cooked dinner) had somehow made from powder and water, I decided to oh-so-casually strike up a conversation with the other Slytherin here, gently probing him for information.

'Uh,' I stopped, realising that I couldn't remember his name, 'Have you seen Ev - I mean, Rosier this morning?' Oh yes, all hail the glorious Maximum Ride, master of the art of subtlety.

He turned to answer me, and I couldn't help being a little mesmerised by his eyes. One was ice blue, and the other silvery grey. The effect was rather disconcerting.

'He... left. Last night.' came the rather vague reply.

'Left to where? Why?' I asked, frowning slightly. I didn't like vague answers.

The expression on his face hardened. 'I fail to see how that's any of your business.' he said stiffly, turning away to both dispose of the cardboard box in his hand and shut down the conversation.

I frowned a little harder. I wasn't satisfied, or entirely convinced that they weren't secretly plotting to kill us, but pressing the matter would be awkward and suspicious.

Besides, it couldn't hurt to curb my paranoia a little, could it?

Actually, knowing me, it probably would.

-o-o-o-o-

Later that day, after an equally disappointing lunch, Chantez annouced, with a slightly wilted grin (perhaps she wasn't happy with non-Hogwarts food either), that we should all go on a short hike in the forest surrounding our camp. Sensing that this was not so much a suggestion as an order, we all complied, and soon enough, found ourselves ankle deep in thistle and dead leaves.

Nadia Swan, of course, complained about it all the way.

I trailed near the back with Fang, dawdling a bit to avoid Swan and Lockhart (who was not living up to his claims of being an expert hiker).

'Remind me to wait until no one is looking before I kill them.' I muttered to Fang.

Fang chuckled slightly. 'It could be worse.' he told me.

We walked in silence for a while, until our silence was interrupted by Sirius' shrieks as James pushed him into a rather large mud puddle.

'Mr. Potter, I am most disappointed in you!' Sirius said, imitating Professor McGonagall. 'Ten points from Gryffindor for your blindingly ugly mug!'

'Hey, uncalled for!'

They continued bickering. Remus merely ignored them, no doubt used to their antics, and Peter rolled his eyes and pointed out a colourful bird to Rose.

I became so engrossed in the scenery (or rather, imagining various scenarios which somehow all ended with me analysing the best way to fight in the tangled undergrowth, which, incidentally, was usually fly above the trees and hope the attacker didn't have a gun), that I didn't notice that we had pretty much circled around and were now about eleven feet away from the campsite until Fang nudged me.

'Over there.' he said, pointing to a tree which looked as though a bear had clawed it.

Dodging to the very back of the line, I quickly ducked through some plants that tried to smack me in the face and came to a small clearing. Fang followed me, only more silently than I had done, because, you know, he's Fang.

We gazed at the tree, which had large pieces of bark gauged out of it. The two trees next to it had suffered a similar fate.

'Hey.' Fang gestured for me to walk over to him.

When I had reached him, I realised something. From this angle, the slash marks on the three trees formed a straight line, as if the damage had been done by someone standing in this very spot.

'Wow, that's pretty vicious.' I mentioned. I looked down. 'Hey, what's that?' I pointed out two scraps of parchment surrounded by scorched leaves at the base of the tree closest to us. I knelt down, and picked them up. They both seemed to be from a letter, probably the same letter. I read it the first one, which appeared to be from the corner of the parchment, deciding it didn't count as reading other people's mail if it was just a signature.

'Most regretfully... someone.' I attempted to read the name scrawled on it, then showed it to Fang. 'Can you read that?' I asked, unable to decipher the swirling signature.

He peered at it. 'Antonin... something.' he said. 'Can't make out the last name.'

I nodded my thanks, and scanned the other scrap of parchment. 'My deepest sympathy... guardian, assuming... I had hoped... unable to find...' I read. 'Everything else has been burnt away.'

'It doesn't make much sense.' Fang remarked.

I ripped up the scraps as small as I could. 'Whoever's this was, they obviously didn't want other people to see.' I explained. 'It's the least I can do. I mean, I did read it.'

'Max? Have a conscience? No way, man, no way.' Fang teased, and I rolled my eyes at him.

I let the ripped parchment flutter out of my hands, and we hurried to catch up to everyone else.

-o-o-o-o-

Stargazing proved to be as boring as all hell, if hell were boring, which, in my case, it probably would be. It would also be filled with assholes constantly annoying me.

Anyway, we all gazed at the sky, hoping to see something interesting, while Lockhart blabbered on and on about his apparent expertise at everything, which had yet to be seen.

'Oh, hey, look!' Sirius pointed at a cluster of stars. 'It's my crazy mother!'

We stared at the patch of sky he was pointing at for a while, before Remus said: 'No one else can see it, Sirius.'

'Well, it also looks like an elephant. See? Just there...' He traced it with his finger.

'Yeah... still nothing.' Peter said.

'Well, I think it looks more like a giant turtle.' James put in.

'All I see is some stars.' I said.

Sirius sniffed in disdain. 'You just lack imagination and epicalityness.'

'Not a word.' Remus told him.

'What did you just say?' James demanded. 'What the hell did you just say?'

'That looks like a bird.' Rose asked, pointing at another patch of stars before the argument could develop any further.

'Where?' Peter asked.

'Just there...' she replied, tracing it as Sirius had done with his elephant and/or mother a few seconds ago.

'I'm not seeing it...' Peter said.

Rose huffed impatiently, stood behind him, grabbed his hand, and traced it with his fingers. 'How about now?' she asked.

'Ohh... looks a bit like a bat.'

'It's an eagle!'

'Nope. Bat.'

'Eagle.'

'Definitely a bat.'

'Definitely not a bat! Eagle!'

'Nah. Still a bat.'

'It is so an eagle!'

'Liar, liar, pants on fire, hanging from a telephone wire!'

'It's a frog.' Fang said, sitting down against a log. Rose and Peter ignored him, opting instead to delve into insults such as 'toast-for-brains', 'whale-humper', and 'dickface'.

'It's still just some stars to me.' I told him.

'You can't see it from that angle.' Fang replied.

I sat next to him. 'Okay, so where is it?'

'Nowhere. I lied.' Fang smirked, and pulled me closer.

Our romantic bliss - wait, what did I just say? Ignore that.

The comfortable silence was not destined to be, however, and it was soon interrupted.

'I am not an ass-butt! I may be an ass, but what's the point of calling me a butt-butt? That makes no sense!' Sirius shouted at James, who, being the very epitome of wit, pushed him into a puddle. I was starting to believe that pushing people into puddles was some sort of bizarre wizarding ritual. It sure happened often enough to be.

Whatever. As long as they weren't pushing me into any puddles.

Wait, scratch that. I'd just push them back. And then have a mud fight.

Because I, Maximum Insert-Middle-Name-Here Ride, am a mature, responsible member of society.

-o-o-o-o-

Pretty soon, we all got bored with stargazing. Half of us went to sleep, and the other half wandered off into the forest to play some game I'd never heard of. Must be a wizard thing.

So then it was just me, Lockhart, and Fang.

I was wrong before. That wasn't hell. This was hell. Lockhart was rambling on and on about something I wasn't really paying attention to, and Fang and I were shooting glances at each other, both of us feeling the awkwardness practically raining from the sky.

You know, I never thought I'd be glad to hear Nadia Swan's nasally voice, but I was right now. I covered my ears as she yapped something to Lockhart, and proceeded to drag him away.

Mission: Get Rid of Pest accomplished.

Does it count if I didn't do it personally? I mean, technically, the results are still there, but I didn't do anything.

So it's not so much accomplished as just gone.

Oh well. I'm going to call it accomplished anyway.

'Max?' Fang asked.

'Huh?'

'Voice? Or just spacing out?'

'Just thinking...'

About how much I love you. I nearly said it, but stopped myself just in time. It wouldn't do to look like a mushy lovesick idiot now, would it?

-o-o-o-o-

I stirred, and blinked awake. The cold morning air made me shiver slightly, but strangely, my left side was still warm.

Ah. That would explain it.

I'd fallen asleep curled up next to Fang. We were both still outside, so it was lucky that we didn't subscribe to the notion of pajamas, otherwise we'd be freezing.

Someone should invent pajama jackets. Then maybe I'd sleep in pajamas. I mean, it's really cold in Scotland. Seriously. This is when it sucks to be a bird kid, because we have really high body temperatures, so we get cold pretty easily. I pretty much live in jackets.

I sat up, because Fang's arm was around me, and I was guessing I was probably cutting off his blood circulation, and that would suck.

Evidently, I wasn't as graceful as I had hoped, because my movement woke Fang.

'Morning.' I greeted.

'Mmf.' he replied, still half asleep.

He sat up suddenly, scanning our surroundings, old instincts kicking in.

'We fell asleep out here? Damn, no wonder it's so cold.' he said.

'Well, we're leaving today, apparently, so tonight you can sleep in a nice warm bed.'

Man, we were really getting spoiled. Now we were complaining about waking up cold and a little stiff, when several months ago, we were complaining about waking up to murderous Erasers. A year of this and I'd be a right little princess. Maybe I'd even wear a dress. I mean, I was already wearing robes, and that was pretty close to a dress, right?