Romance Awareness Month: You can feel pain when your soulmate feels pain.

Hogwarts Assignment #2 - Performing Arts. Task #3: Trope: runaway.

Song Lyrics Challenge: "I said that smoking was my only vice"

Gobstone: red - summer

Extra prompts: (spell) "Nox", (emotion) envy, (colour) maroon.

'Nox,' Helena whispered as she emerged from the forest.

The city lights were in sight and lit the road well enough without needing to use her wand. Hefting her sack higher on her back, she picked up her skirts and made her way down the path.

Nodding to the guards at the gates, she strode confidently into the city - despite the fact that she had absolutely no idea where she was going. She had learnt that it was better to give the appearance of confidence, instead of waiting for it to come.

In any case, she had no intention of going back home. Rowena Ravenclaw was a hard person to live with, and an even harder person to please. Try as she might, Helena knew that she would always remain her mother's lost cause - bright enough, but not the brightest, witty, but not clever, and certainly not the daughter Rowena had been expecting. It was easier to live up to her deceptions than try to meet her expectations.

Spotting the swinging door of an inn, she rearranged her hair and plastered a smirk on her face as she walked in. Sitting down at a free table, she surveyed the inn's occupants.

There was a group of young men playing cards in one corner. Watching them laugh as they placed bets and jostled one another, she felt a pang of envy. How she would have wished to have a laughing childhood, free of the responsibilities her mother foisted upon her in her youth. When asked why Helena couldn't join the others in their games, Rowena would reply that her daughter was better than that, that she had so much potential that wouldn't be squandered on something as meaningless as games.

Helena had tried running away once before. It was the summer after her graduation at Hogwarts and she had made the mistake of seeming too eager. The innkeeper had brought her back to her mother in no time. No one wanted to cross the illustrious Rowena Ravenclaw.

This summer, she had planned her voyage well. She would not leave an easy magical trace, ruling out Floo and Apparition. She had chanced a few simple spells, simply because she knew her mother overlooked their signatures - too many wizards used "Lumos" and "Nox" in the same areas for that kind of analysis to be of use. She would also not make the mistake of looking over excited or nervous. Those were sure signs of a runaway.

A movement in front of her drew her out of her thoughts. A man had sat opposite her, around her mother's age with the scars to prove that he had survived the streets through less than noble means. Helena twitched her lips into a smile that resembled a grimace and glanced over to the innkeeper. He was busy serving portions of stew three tables away, whereas the barmaid was filling pints of ale.

Neither had noticed Helena yet.

Deciding that she would swallow her pride and feign tiredness to get a room quickly, Helena started to slide off the bench, only to be met with the sight of another man leering at her, a dagger badly hidden in his hand.

'Good evening gentlemen.' Helena tried her best to sound calm, but a small waver betrayed her.

'Looks like we've found ourselves a rich little runaway,' the first man sneered, grinning at her. 'Don't you worry lass, we'll teach you the ways of the street.'

'Ye start off by handing us all yer gold,' the second man added in what he must have thought was a helpful voice. 'Then ye run home back ter yer ma.'

'I don't think that will be happening tonight,' Helena bravely answered.

If she gave them all her gold, she was as good as dead. It was too late to turn back now, and yet if she had no gold she wouldn't survive her night in the city, wand or not.

'Looks like this one's got a mouth on 'er,' the first one said in surprise, before lowering his voice. 'Mayhaps we'll take more 'an just yer gold.'

'Mayhaps yer'll change yer mind,' the second man added, sliding closer. Helena felt the prick of a knife slide between the folds of her robes, pushed deep enough to draw blood.

'Mayhaps you'll learn one day how to treat a lady properly.'

This did not come from either of Helena's assailants, but from a new man who had one hand on the table, the other holding a drawn wand.

'Septimus,' the leering man said in deference. 'Dint know ye'd be 'ere tonight, did we? We'll be going.'

'I don't think so,' "Septimus" answered. 'Stupefy!'

Red light sent the two men slumping in their seats in quick succession, the dagger falling out of the second man's hand to scrape against Helena's belly. She winced in pain, but kept her face straight.

'Bill! Over here,' Septimus called, motioning to the barkeeper. 'How many times have I told thee not to let these ruffians in?'

'Ever so sorry sir,' the barman scraped low. 'I dint notice 'em come in. Molly!' He waved over to the barmaid. 'Clean this up will you? And let's have the best for sir Septimus and his lady friend.'

The two thieves were replaced by Septimus, who sat next to Helena on the bench, but had one leg swung over each side so he could face her. Helena supposed that he was handsome in a conventional way, with a strong jawline and hair styled in the latest fashion. He was smoking a pipe of some sort, a smirk omnipresent on his face.

'I could have handled myself quite on my own.' Helena felt the need to defend herself. 'I certainly don't intend to replace two ruffians with one more dangerous one.'

'And here I thought thou wouldst comment on my spellcasting,' Septimus replied in a wounded tone. 'Wilt thou not thank thy saviour?'

'As I have previously mentioned, I believe that I did not need saving,' Helena said haughtily.

'Thank thy host, then, for I have just ordered thee a free meal. That is not something to be taken lightly.'

Helena found herself smiling a little at this clever man, ruffian or no.

'Indeed,' she agreed. 'Very well, with whom do I have the pleasure of sharing my meal?'

'Baron Septimus, at thy service,' he waved his pipe in an elaborate imitation of a bow. 'Also known as thy guardian angel.'

'Thou art smoking a pipe,' Helena pointed out.

'Ah, but smoking is my only vice,' the man quipped back, before leaning on his elbows. 'And whom might thou be, my fair lady?'

'And who is to say that I am a lady?' Helena responded.

'Thou didst not flinch when I mentioned my title,' Septimus noted. 'And a simple woman would not travel with such fine fabrics.'

'It appears that I still have much to learn,' Helena murmured. Suddenly, she didn't feel like bantering any more. A wave of tiredness hit her, most likely from her nighttime journey. 'If thou wouldst be so kind as to excuse me, I must rest.'

Noticing the change of tone, Septimus didn't insist, but simply stood up to let her pass.

'Thou mayst make use of my rooms,' he offered. 'I have errands to run in the city for a while yet.'

'That is kind, but-'

Helena tried to get up, but gasped as she fell forwards, only to be gently caught by soft hands.

'I did not see before,' Septimus said, his eyes widening. 'Thou art hurt. Please, let me help in any way I can. My tutors taught me a little of healing charms, if thou wouldst but lie on the bench.'

'My mother…' Helena trailed off.

Rowena was a powerful healer, but Helena was too proud to run back to her like a dog with its tail between its legs. Just then, she realised that her wound did not hurt anymore. Pushing her robes to the side, she saw that her dress had a tear in the side, but the skin beneath was smooth and unblemished. She hadn't heard Septimus speak the incantation though.

Frowning, she looked up at him, only to catch him in her arms in turn. His maroon vest was slowly turning darker on one side.

It cannot be, she thought.

'This… this cut was deeper than I thought,' he coughed. 'I must sit back down, rest…'

'Never fear,' Helena replied. Her suspicions would have to be laid to rest for the moment. 'She taught me well.'

Placing her wand over the wound, she murmured the necessary healing spells, hesitating for only a minute before she repaired and cleaned his vest.

'Thank you,' the baron replied, the colour returning to his face. 'Next time, thou shouldst say if thou art hurt. What if I had not been here? What wouldst thou have done?'

'I don't know,' Helena whispered. 'But I know this - had I handled the situation on my own, I would not have met my soulmate, a meeting so rare and legendary that I believed the histories to be nothing but fairy tales.'

'Soulmate?' Septimus furrowed his brow.

'There are wizards whose magical energy is in tune to the point where their magic can sense the vibrations of the owners' feelings and emotions. Thy energy must have sensed mine own diminish and attempted to rectify the problem,' Helena replied, blushing.

'Oh,' Septimus looked slightly disappointed. 'I thought a soulmate was one's one true love.'

'That is a common misconception,' Helena laughed. 'The term simply refers to the shared magical energy. If trained properly, we could harness one another's energy to create spells others could only dream of.'

'So thou willst be staying here a little longer?' Septimus asked, his eyes lighting up. 'For research purposes.'

Something tugged at Helena's heart, something foreign, something new. It could not hurt, she thought, to hide from Mother in plain sight. If only for research purposes. If only for… something new.