Avocado Monster
After leaving Burke's I didn't really feel up to traipsing around London looking for old Ben, so I decided to flee back to the Adela cave (aka, the flat I shared with Rose). I headed toward the corner with the ice cream vendor from before – he shot me a rather nasty look and muttered "a plague on your family" (rude) – and, picturing the small flat, turned on my heel. The familiar sensation of a thousand burning fires eating through my stomach soon arose (oh, sod off. I'm not being dramatic. You try Apparating and see how you like it) as I spun on the spot, my surroundings blurring together until they resembled Sir Archibald's last present from his stomach (Seth had tried feeding him anchovies. Sir Archibald's stomach hadn't agreed).
Crack.
Just as I was about to land, however, something that felt remarkably like a solid brick wall reached out and slapped me, slamming me back into another wall. Great. I'd landed right in the middle of a wall fight. Trust me to find the two walls in existence that were actually sentient.
I could picture my headstone: Adela Lancaster. Beloved sister, friend, and victim of an unfortunate wall fight. The Tragic Twist in the Humpty Dumpty Story.
Blinking blearily and muttering "stupid walls with their stupid stupid skirmishes – why can't they take it outside?" (my vocabulary has, as you can see, obviously expanded greatly since Hogwarts), I slowly got to my feet, rubbing at my sore head gingerly. I seemed to be in the central hallway that led to the main stairs of my building. An oak door five and a half meters to the right swung open, and a face caked in some green substance poked out. Fantastic. Just bloody fantastic. First the walls, now some monster from Seth's guacamole? I'd told him that the avocadoes would want revenge for all their fallen brethren.
"I know we may be genetically quite similar, but I am female. I am not Seth. Seth is male. Seth is target. Seth is-" I began (hey, I figured if the avocado monster went after Seth I'd have time to call backup and destroy it before it could attack Seth…and I kind of wanted to see how avocado would attack a wizard. I just didn't want to experience that firsthand).
The face's mouth opened. "You all right there?"
Oh. I recognized that voice; it was Clara Delave, the aspiring model who always happened to stop by whenever Dominique was visiting (probably hoping to get in contact with Victoire). Dominique hated when people tried to latch on to her in the hopes of meeting her sister. I could see how it could get annoying, but I didn't mind Clara. She'd been a Hufflepuff three years above us back at Hogwarts and reminded me a bit of Kate.
"Yeah, these walls just…" my voice trailed off as Numberita finally recovered enough to make sense of our surroundings. The walls – the traitors – were as motionless as ever, still draped in that awful paisley wallpaper. Thankfully, Clara was too nice to say anything about my confused state (or the fact that I'd just asked her to attack Seth).
"Erm…nevermind, just had a rough landing," I finished lamely. She nodded slowly.
"Right…well, if you need anything, I'll be right here," she said sweetly before closing the door gently behind her. Hufflepuffs. Evilness is hidden behind all that kindness. I'd bet my last brownie on it.
I usually Apparated directly into the flat, but someone had put up wards. But who? And why? Only Rose and I could Apparate right into the flat anyway, so these wards were certainly overkill. Rose was too busy with her research to take the time to put up such complicated wards and besides, she wasn't paranoid enough to do this. The only people who came to visit us were Seth, Scorpius, Dominique, and occasionally Kate anyway. An image of Kate dressed in the villain costume I'd seen in a Muggle comic book and cackling evilly flashed through Numberita, and I had to stifle a laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
Right, time to get to the bottom of this.
Climbing to my feet, I glanced down at my dust and ice cream splattered top. I could clean it up with a quick spell, but did I want to spend the effort? Eh. It was only Rose in there.
So, holding Al's wand carefully in front of me (what if some goblin had broken in and set up the wards?), I withdrew my key from the recesses of my pocket and inserted it into the lock. Immediately the brass doorknob heated up, the dull metal glowing a brilliant red as its temperatures climbed up to at least 132 degrees Celsius.
"Holy hippogriff!" I hissed, jumping backwards. My right index and thumb were an angry scarlet.
Okay, that was it. Enough was enough. Keeping carefully away from the angry doorknob of doom, I lifted my leg and kicked at the door. By now the whole door was warm; I could feel it even from a full meter away. Thank Merlin I was wearing the thick-soled trainers Rose had given me.
"Oi! Rose! You in there?" I shouted. I waited sixteen painfully long seconds before kicking again.
There was a soft click. I immediately skirted to the side, avoiding the main range of fire, and held Al's wand out with sweating fingers. My back pressed against the wall a half meter next to my door, and I turned my head slightly so that I could see the door swing open.
"Adela?" came Rose's voice. I resisted the urge to run out and tackle her with happiness (she was alive!). What if it was someone under Polyjuice potion? I couldn't be too careless. So instead of hugging my best friend, I asked harshly, "What was my favourite drink back in Hogwarts?"
"Pumpkin juice," a decidedly lower voice answered. I stiffened; Al. How did he get here so fast?
"Adela, it's me. I just got back from Hogwarts to find a band of Aurors ransacking the place. They completely messed up the order of my encyclopedias! Care to explain?" Rose was quite annoyed, by the sound of it.
I fought back a grin; yup, that was Rose. Sometimes she was so similar to her mother it was scary.
I turned and moved to enter the flat. Al was there, his green eyes as bright as ever, though the color was marred somewhat by the surly scowl firmly fixed on his face. Well, it looked like Mr. Bright and Cheerful was back and as happy as ever.
Not.
"How's Vane?" I asked awkwardly as Rose ran back to organize the scattered books strewn across the coffee table.
"She'll be fine. Malfoy got to her in time, and it's nothing we aren't used to," he answered shortly. He stared pointedly at the wand I was still clutching in my right hand. Right.
"Oh!" My cheeks flushed a bit (oh, come on. It was just a wand – why was I blushing? Traitors) as I thrust my hand out.
"Here."
"Thanks," he said slowly, eying me carefully as he plucked it from my fingers. He glanced back at Rose, who was by now muttering rather colourful curses under her breath that mostly involved excruciating deaths and what she'd do with the person who messed up her precious order as she piled the books back lovingly into their place in the mahogany bookshelf Scorpius had given us last Christmas.
When he turned back to face me, he was biting his lip with an uncertainty that he clearly wasn't used to feeling.
He stepped forward a half meter. I stepped back a half meter.
A heavy silence fell.
A muscle in his jaw twitched when he saw my movement, and he sighed before saying, "Are you okay?"
I stiffened.
"I'm fine," I muttered, looking around him to check up on Rose. Suddenly that option seemed a lot more attractive than talking to Mr. Cheerful.
"What happened out there? You froze," he said, clearly not getting the hints to drop the subject.
"Al. I am fine," I repeated firmly.
"Right, because being fine means staring while some dangerous bloke is throwing curses in an enclosed space. I saw, Adela – you didn't even try to duck for cover!" his voice was rising, and out of the corner of my eye I caught Rose looking at us with a worried expression. She was wondering whether she ought to come over and break this…whatever this was before it was too late (the last time I was involved in…something like this had resulted in a broken nose and tentacles sprouting from various body parts).
"Why did so many Aurors show up? There were seven. That's a lot for a supposedly standard occurrence," I shot back. He opened his mouth to retort but soon shut it. Ha. Check.
"We've set up wards around the flat. No one will be able to Apparate directly into it anymore. Now that you've entered it, though, the door shouldn't react to you," he said, changing the subject.
I scowled. I'd liked being able to Apparate directly into my flat. That meant I could be still wearing my smiley-face pajamas and not get judged by all-too-curious neighbors.
"And my wand?" I asked.
He avoided my eyes. Uh oh. That wasn't a good sign.
"It was confiscated as evidence. You'll get it back in a week or so."
Panic gripped my heart with iron fingers.
"My-my wand. What do you mean, a week? I'm supposed to wander around the Wizarding World without any protection for a bloody week? What about your wand? Why wasn't it confiscated?" I shrieked. No. No. This couldn't be happening.
"What if Greyback comes back? Or Ragnuk? What am I supposed to do, smile at them and say, 'Sorry, lot. Can we reschedule this meeting for a time when the Ministry isn't screwing me over?'" My voice was rising, and I was distantly aware of Rose trying to lay a calming hand on my arm. I shook her off angrily.
"I am a sitting duck without my wand. So maybe I froze back there. At least then I had the option of being able to defend myself," I continued.
Al flinched. He stepped forward, gripping my forearms with his hands.
"I'll protect you," he said fiercely, his eyes staring into mine with an intensity that robbed me of Numberita's wits for a full forty-two seconds.
A soft cough sounded to our right. Both of our heads snapped to the right, and we stared at Rose's flushed face.
"Right, your-" she pointed at Al "lot completely sacked the flat while they were setting up these protections. I get that Rag-Ragnuk and Greyback are a threat, but the least you could do is help clean up after your own messes," she said, her hands on her hips. Scratch what I said about Rose resembling her mother. She was her grandmother – just with curly hair and a blonde bloke instead of a ginger one that followed her around.
Al blinked, seeming to realize just how close we were. He coughed awkwardly, stepping back and running his hand through his already-messy hair, ruffling the dark hair so that it stuck up in random clumps that still managed to look quite attract-
MOVING ON.
"You ran off with my wand before it could be taken…besides, I might have…forgotten to mention it. I would have done the same for yours, but I was holding it when they rushed in. Malfoy's estimated that Vane should be able to return in around three to four days – knowing her, it will probably be two," he said, his professional Auror mode snapping back in place. I felt a small, selfish pang to my heart at the affectionate familiarity that coloured his words when he spoke about Vane. Merlin, what was I, some jealous twelve-year-old? I was being petty. Vane was in the hospital and all I could do was be jealous because Al knew her? Merlin, I was pathetic.
"Until then…I assure you, Adela, being a bodyguard might not be the most…ideal of positions, but I will not let anyone harm you," he promised.
My inner "Adela doesn't need no man and is a strong independent woman" sense bristled a bit at his insistence, but Numberita soon bashed it down. My pride might not like it, but wandless as I was…
"Fine. But no creepy stalker activity," I warned.
He laughed, a loud, clear sound that rang through the flat. I couldn't help but smile a bit back. "No stalking," he promised. Then a mischievous gleam that certainly did not send a thrill through me sparked in his eyes.
"Though you never know, Ragnuk might be hiding in your shower…I might have to chec-"
Without saying a word, I withdrew ol' Bessie the Second (OBTS) and whacked him soundly in the stomach.
He doubled over, letting out a strangled gasp.
"You're just lucky I didn't aim lower," I said levelly. I reached down to ruffle his hair (it was as soft as ev-BROWNIES YES I LIKE BROWNIES) and then, with a cheerful smile on my face, moved to help Rose with the books.
"Right, so I assume we should put the potions books next to the charms," I said casually, picking up a well-worn copy of Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger.
When she didn't answer, I looked up quizzically.
"Rose?"
She merely gaped at me, her brown eyes darting from me to the gasping Potter spawn over by the other end of the room.
"Erm…yeah," she said faintly.
"Good, because I always thought putting them by the magical creatures section was just plain illogical," I said.
She still wasn't moving to help.
"Rose! You're the one who wanted to organise the books," I pointed out with a touch of annoyance.
She gave herself a small shake.
"Merlin, Adela. Remind me not to get on your bad side," she said finally, picking up Hogwarts: A History and nestling it lovingly on the top shelf.
I tapped at my head – or, more specifically, Numberita. "Noted," I said.
A pair of hands turned me swiftly, bringing me disconcertingly close to Al. He moved his mouth so his lips just brushed my cheek. I held my breath, my heart racing in my throat –
"You won't catch me off guard again," he murmured, his breath ghosting across my ear.
An involuntary shiver rippled through me.
"Prat," I managed, but my voice was trembling slightly. He pulled back, smirked, and saluted me with a mocking twirl of his hand.
"Until tomorrow," he called over his shoulder. The door shut smoothly behind him.
"Until tomorrow," I echoed softly. After another fifty-two seconds I felt Rose's gaze on me.
I turned.
"What?" I asked.
She hesitated before saying, "Just be careful, okay? I-I don't want…" Her voice trailed off, but her words were still enough to send a resounding slap of reality across my face.
What was I thinking? The last time I'd allowed myself to get close to Al, he'd taken my heart and stomped on it. It had taken me ages to get over him. So I gave Numberita a mental shaking and turned up my smile to blinding levels.
"Rose, I'm fine," I said through double rows of tightly clenched teeth.
If anything, she looked even more horrified. Right, maybe it was time to tone down the smile wattage.
"Rose. I'm fine," I repeated.
She nodded slowly. "Okay."
Then she held up a luridly colourful magazine. "Now, where should these rags go?" she asked with an evil glint in her eye.
"Oi! My muggle magazines!" I shouted, yanking it from her hands and clutching it possessively to my chest.
What? They were fun to look at. I didn't have to agree with them to enjoy them.
Rose laughed and, rolling her eyes, picked up the next issue and carefully put it away (she will deny it to an inch of her life but I know she likes reading them as much as I do).
And so we sorted through the stacks of books, two witches draped in the heady gold sheets of late afternoon light, each determinedly ignoring the fact that a crazed goblin and werewolf were currently on the loose.
Author Note: Thanks for reading! :) Please review and let me know what you think! :D