'Somewhere another pretty vein just dies.' - Fall Out Boy, My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark

"Hey, Al."

I spin around, jacket clutched to my chest, to find Lysander staring at me from the doorway.

I sigh and turn back around, dropping the jacket on my bed. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I snuck out of school – "

"Good boy."

There's silence.

I smirk. "Sorry, man. Carry on."

"As I was saying," Lysander continues, annoyance lacing his voice. "I snuck out of school to catch you at your house before you Flooed back into school."

"Why? Wanted to catch me stripping?" I grin, pulling off my t-shirt and jeans.

"Unfortunately, I've seen you naked before. It's nothing to be proud of, trust me."

I spin around again, scowling. "You'd better be holding up your sarcasm sign right now, motherfucker."

Lysander rolls his eyes and throws his Gryffindor match scarf down neatly on my bed, perching next to it. "So how did the War Society function go?"

I grab some ripped jeans out of my wardrobe, throwing the whole jeans I'd been wearing into the laundry bin.

"Fucking boring, mate. I thought maybe the American Wizarding War Society had livened up their annual function in the past few years, since the last time I went, but they haven't: mum and dad introduced me to some boring rich people, we posed for some press photos, dad did his speech on how he saved the world, mum pretended to get emotional, there was no dessert, blah blah blah." I pull on a sinfully tight t-shirt and hunt around for a leather jacket. "But at least mum let me wear jeans and a t-shirt, even if I had to wear posh shoes and a blazer with them."

I gesture to my one pair of decent jeans, and boring plain white t-shirt that now lie crumpled in the laundry bin.

"But nothing went wrong, right? Your parents invited you to be seen in public with them, you went, and everything went smoothly." Lysander smiles. "I'm proud of you, Al."

"Shut up." I throw some socks at him, and finally spot one of my leather jackets lying under my bed.

Lysander places the socks in my sock drawer and then just looks at me.

"Fine! I'll admit that it felt kinda good, okay? Happy now?" I scowl at him.

Lysander smiles smugly. "Ecstatic."

I Accio a pair of Doc Martens from downstairs and catch them neatly when they come zooming up. I lace them up, take one last look at my bedroom, and make for the door. "You coming, man? We'll be able to make it back in time for dinner at school."

"Actually, Al, can I talk to you for a second?" Lysander calls me back, looking . . . nervous.

I tense immediately. Lysander Scamander never looks nervous.

He waits as I sit opposite him on my bed, and then speaks. "How're things going with Ria?"

I throw a pillow at him. "You made me worry just because you wanted some gossip? You know how things are going: you basically live with us."

Lysander just looks at me.

I roll my eyes and flop back onto the duvet. "It's going great. In fact, this reminds me – she's asked me to help her practise the Transfig spell we learned last lesson. If you need some help too, come to the seventh floor tomorrow after breakfast; we can use one of the disused classrooms there."

"No, I understood it last lesson." Lysander says.

There's silence. I know he's staring at me again.

I sigh and turn to face him. "Whatever it is, just spit it out, mate."

"You spend a lot of time with Ria, don't you?" He's watching me carefully.

I narrow my eyes. "We all do."

Lysander relaxes slightly and raises his eyes to the ceiling briefly. "Al, you spend every waking minute with her, except for when you have different classes, and then you spend every night together as well."

"So? We're dating." I frown at him.

"Scor and Rose don't spend every night together. James isn't with Amy 24/7. Even your parents spend time away from each other."

I clench my fist. "Fuck off, Sander. I love her, alright? I want to spend time with her."

He sighs. "I know, man. I don't doubt that, but I also think that you've become rather . . . infatuated with her." He continues smoothly without giving me a chance to interrupt. "She's high on life, every single day: smiling, laughing, singing, and she's pulling you along for the ride."

I sit up, struggling to accept what he seems to be saying. "She loves me."

"I know. And if you know too, then why do you get so jealous whenever she talks to any guy?"

I fall back again and put a pillow over my face. "I don't know! She's just so fucking friendly that it looks like she's flirting with everyone, and she's so goddamn sexy that everyone wants her. I have a right to be jealous!"

Lysander rips the pillow away from me. "No, you don't. She's clearly in love with you, and you have no right to be jealous. She doesn't have a disloyal bone in her body, and if you don't see that, then it's not a healthy relationship."

I swallow, looking up at him. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying that I'm worried about you. You've never been in a serious relationship before, and neither has she, and frankly, I don't think either of you are ready for this. You're both throwing yourselves into this, and I think you've become too close, too fast. You're getting insanely jealous and obsessed, and as for Ria, though she may be in love with you, the starring act in her show will always be Scorpius; he will always be her priority, and while that's not a problem for Rose, I think that could be a problem for you. And . . . Al, like I said, she's running high on life, but she's got something in her past that she's not telling us, and whatever it is, she's just pushing it to the back of her mind, hoping it will go away, and that's not healthy for her, Scor, or anyone else they're close to. One day it's going to catch up with her, and when it does, it's not going to be pretty. I'm just worried about you, Al."

Lysander takes a deep breath and lays a hand on my arm gently.

I release a long breath. "But we're happy."

Lysander squeezes my arm. "Have you ever felt that there's something she's not telling you? Something important?"

The image of a tiny silver key on a bracelet flashes through my mind. "Yeah."

Lysander pulls me up slowly. "I just don't want either of you to get hurt."

I run a hand through my hair. "I'll talk to her about it tomorrow."

Lysander nods. "Then let's get back to school."

The girl in question catches me securely when I tumble out of the fireplace in McGonagall's office and kisses me softly before launching into questions.

"How was it? Did you – Lysander? Why are you here?" Ria gazes at Lysander in confusion as he steps out of the fireplace behind me.

"No reason." I say quickly. "Just wanted a chat."

Ria frowns at me, but seems to shake it off in favour of her excitement about the War function. "So? Tell me how it went!"

"Later, babe." I say, still uneasy over Lysander's words. "What have I missed?"

Ria shrugs and throws an arm over both mine and Lysander's shoulders, leading us out of the office. "Just the usual Gryffindor victory party: some third year Slytherins tried to crash, Aaron broke a couch, Fred threw up, and James proposed to Amy on top of a table."

I grin. And then consider her words again. James hasn't proposed to Amy since they've started dating; her answer might be different from the usual slap/sigh/resounding no. Ria grins at me, seeming to guess what's going through my mind. I stop in my tracks. "She didn't say yes?!"

Ria smirks.

"Poor girl." I sigh, slipping an arm around my girlfriend's waist. "She has no idea what she's getting into. James is the kind of husband to take her out for dinner every weekend and buy her flowers every day."

"Oh, what horror." Lysander says sarcastically.

"Nah." Ria laughs. "He fell off the table and lost consciousness before she had time to answer."

"Probably for the best. Another 'no' from her might have killed him."

"You're right: she wouldn't have said yes. Everyone knows drunk proposals don't count."

"I'll keep that in mind." I grin. "So how would you like a proposal?"

Lysander coughs pointedly. I ignore him.

"With you." Ria answers, winking. "The ring and tuxedo are optional."

"Thank Godric for that." I wink back. "Any chick who wants me to wear a tuxedo is not my type of girl."

"So what is your type of girl?"

I grin. "Small, blonde and girly."

Ria whacks me. "If you dare dump me for my best friend, I will fucking kill you."

I catch her around the waist and kiss her. "No worries. When it comes to me, Emma's got nothing on you."

"Plus, she'd never agree to go out with you." Lysander adds smoothly.

I scowl at him. He grins back and leads us into the Great Hall.

"TEN MORE DAYS 'TIL SUMMER, KANUMPS!" Rose yells in my face as I sit down at the table opposite her.

"This term has gone so quickly." Emma sighs, gently pulling my beaming cousin away from me before I punch her. "In less than two weeks, we'll be in seventh year, and then NEWTs will be on us in no time."

We all groan simultaneously and Scor swipes Emma's hair. "Why you gotta be so upsetting, Emmaline?"

Emma frowns, "I've told you: my name's not short for - "

"Besides," Ria glazes over Scor and Emma's frequent argument, "We're problem-less, young sixth-years until the first of September."

"No," Lysander frowns. "Once this term is over, we're officially in our seventh year."

"Mate, you're so wrong," Scor shakes his head, "We're definitely sixth years until - "

I roll my eyes and tune out the discussion, spearing a pie onto my plate, and only pausing from my mutilation of it when a handsome eagle owl swoops low over our heads, neatly dropping a roll of parchment in front of my girlfriend.

Ria's eyebrows raise for a moment at the unexpected post, but she shrugs, and carries on her defence of why we still identify as sixth years in the summer, as she picks up the parchment.

I'm watching her curiously, which is how I notice as she abruptly freezes, eyes locked on the parchment's old-style wax seal.

Scor, ever in tune with his best friend, grabs it from her immediately, ripping it open and reading the short contents rapidly, before dropping it back in her lap, face ashen.

She doesn't even read it, evidently deciphering the contents from his stricken expression, and instead stands up, lips thin.

"Babe, what's wrong?" I stand up opposite her, but she doesn't seem to hear, and instead looks past me, eyes roving the table unseeingly as Scor stands next to her.

"We have to go." And that's all the explanation we get, before Scor and Ria are speed-walking out of the Hall.

"What the fuck was that about?" I turn back to Lysander, Emma and Rose, but they look just as confused as me.

"Looks like he's got something to do with it." Lysander nods to the Great Hall entrance, where Lucien Black is strolling in, eyes hardening as he calls out to stop his cousin and her friend from walking straight past him.

"Hey, Black." He calls. "We need to - "

From our seats at the end of the Gryffindor table, we can hear every word he says.

"Just fuck off, Lucy." Ria hisses, as she suddenly turns to face him, eyes flashing dangerously. Scor hangs behind her, looking ill.

Lucien stills, seemingly surprised at her sudden violence, before his gaze lands on the expensive-looking parchment crumpled in her hand. "Ah," he says softly, "I see you received an invitation to the Manor."

"Yeah, we did." Ria glowers, "And we don't need your fucking advice on what to do about it, so why don't you just fuck off and leave us alone."

Lucien raises a thin eyebrow. "As you wish, though maybe you should know that all I intended to tell you here was that we need to finish the Potions project. Although I can assume that the project is no longer high on your list of things to think about." His eyes again flit to the parchment.

Ria surges forward as if to hit him, but Scor stops her with a hand on her arm, and she follows him out of the Hall, after a last glare at her cousin.

"Don't forget what I told you." Lucien calls after her.

There's no reply.

A/N: Hi! I'm genuinely very sorry for this incredibly late update. No excuses, just an explanation that I was on holiday with a horrible lack on internet. Thank you all for sticking with this story, and I hope you liked this chapter!