A/N: This is the last chapter of what I will admit has felt like a bit of an epic! I hope you enjoyed reading it and, if you did, that you'd take the time to let me know your thoughts; anything, comments, suggestions on writing/improving (though please be nice *cringe*). I'd just really appreciate any and every review.

I do have something of a little epilogue story after this which I'm as of yet not entiiiiiirely sure if I want to post; it's a bit of a kink and just more of a plot bunny that I had to write down to get it out of my head! Anyway, if you liked the story and are interested, I felt I should give you a heads up just in case!

Hope you like the chapter and thanks for sticking with the story the entire way!

Chapter 23: Stranger Strangers

Edinburgh University looked like a castle. At least that was how Mary Wallace always saw it. It was how she had seen it since she was five years old and she and her mother had taken a trip to the city to see a man who Mary later learned was one of her many possible dads. Or 'uncles' as her mother called them.

Since that fateful trip, Mary had always wanted nothing more than to attend the mystical school as a student. In blissful ignorance in her childhood and later in steadfast, aching need. When she'd received her letter of admission, it had been the happiest day of her life.

Mary had always had a green thumb. Many attributed her love of plants to that her mother held; Mary, however, would dispute that fact to her last breath. Her interests did not lie in smoking weed, nor in growing and selling it as her mother had been known to do. Mary had always been more interested in paleobotany and the adaptively evolved descendants of now-extinct plant species. She could spend hours pouring over sketches and comparing them to descendant samples, could lose half a day buried in a book of taxonomy or phytotomy.

People at her old school had called her strange. Had thought her 'weird' for her passion. She had long since decided not to care what others thought of her, though such a resolution was often easier said than done.

One of the best parts about attending Edinburgh University was that it was far, far away from Mary's mother and the assumptions that were automatically made of her. That was a bonus she hadn't expected, and one she was similarly very fond of.

As her final lecture for the day drew to a close, Mary hastened to stash her laptop and textbook into her bag and slip from the room before the greater mass of evacuating students could similarly flee. Not that she felt as though she were fleeing; despite the fact that Reid was an appalling lecturer, Introductory Phytomorphology was one of her favourite subjects.

Still, she was eager to leave that day. She had a date of sorts to attend.

Spilling out of the cavernous halls, Mary squinted into the late afternoon sunshine. Students swept past her with the fluidity of trained dancers, easily avoiding contact and passing by one another. Taking a moment to get her bearings, Mary set out for the usual meeting place. It wasn't far from their favourite coffee shop, even if meeting to the north of campus meant she had to trek the entire length of the university. It wasn't like she minded the walk. Not in the slightest. She could never see enough of her castle.

Stepping onto West Main Road and peering through the sparse throngs of people, Mary felt a smile spread across her lips as she saw Al. His eyes were downturned towards the phone in his hand, presenting only the unkempt crown of his head, but the distinctive, vibrant streak of grass green splitting his fringe was as noticeable as a sign held aloft overhead. Hastening her step, she jogged to his side.

"Hey, Al. Sorry I'm late."

Al snapped his head up towards her at her words. Immediately a returning smile spread across his face. He was a good looking young man, if a little unobtrusive in that he could hardly be classified as tall or physically imposing, and possessed the most incredible pair of eyes she'd ever seen. Green, the lucky thing. Mary's favourite colour had always been green.

"Hi, Mary. No worries. You were coming all the way across campus, weren't you?"

Mary nodded, falling into step beside Al and they turned to continue on down West Main. "Yeah, I had Reid's class. You had him last year, didn't you?"

Al groaned in sympathy. "Oh yeah, for Intro Phytomorph, right? He's pretty appalling."

"Isn't he just?"

"Four more weeks, Mary. Four more weeks til the end of term and you'll be free."

"Hardly," Mary laughed, shaking her head. "You said he takes third year Microbiology too, didn't you?"

Al glanced towards her sidelong. "You don't even like Microbiology."

"Yeah, but it might be useful."

"But it's Reid."

"Point."

They chattered lightly as they walked, commiserating over terrible excuses for lecturers and the looming exams, of work – of which they were both employed at Sticks and Twigs Nursery – and their mourning the extended trip of their boss, whose vibrant company seemed to set the place alight with enthusiasm. It seemed to take but moments for them to reach the strip of cafes and convenience stores set several blocks back from the university. Al led them unwaveringly towards Black Horse, the customary street-side service that made the best coffee in the city.

As soon as they stepped through the door, Mary saw that Scor and Rhali had already beaten them there. Through the hubbub of the overcrowded café, the pair had somehow managed to acquire a table with four chairs for their group. It said something of the two of them that no one had tried to steal one of those chairs.

Scor and Rhali would have to be two of the most opposite people in terms of physical appearance. While Rhali was a stick-thin girl, all bones and elbows with a mop of dreadlocks that hung to her waist – held with feeble orderliness beneath a bandana today – and an almost permanent scowl on her angular features, Scor was the picture of aloof composure. He was the sort of person that drew the eye and held it, though urged one more into the seat of awed observer than to seek friendship. His cool, straight features looked to be almost carved from marble, hair always perfectly coiffed and a posture that would put the kings and queens of old to shame and had initially made Mary feel uncomfortable in her own skin. In her own clothes, too, for while she consistently clad herself in the simple jeans and jacket that was almost a uniform of university students – Al included – Scor looked as though he'd walked straight from a designers store, generally complete with sunglasses and tie. Somehow, he managed to make it look entirely natural that a twenty year old would wear a casual suit and tie.

At least Mary wasn't as bad as Rhali; the other girl periodically changed her own outfit between a gypsy skirt and leather jacket to jeans so ripped they couldn't have been fashionably so beneath a dark hooded jumper that swum on her and depicted the words 'Maths is Magic' in patchy scrawl. In itself it wouldn't have been so bad except that she'd torn both sleeves off at the elbows in a fit of glee the day she'd purchased it.

Rhali was many things but fashionable was not one of them.

As Al and Mary entered the café, Scor glanced up as though his attention was drawn by a lodestone. A wide smile – too perfect to be human – spread across his face. Mary felt not for the first time a hint of wistfulness, a touch of regret, that he was both very gay and very in love.

With Al. The fact that Al very much deserved his love didn't ease Mary's wistfulness in the slightest.

"Decaf chai latte," Scor offered, handing over a cup to Al, who accepted it as he sunk into the seat beside his boyfriend. Mary settled herself next to him, taking the proffered cappuccino with a nod of thanks.

"You're here early today," Al commented, peering at Scor over his cup.

"Yeah, Frances chivvied all of us out this afternoon. A top secret experiment was initiating at five o'clock on the dot, apparently."

"What kind of experiment?" Mary asked. She didn't have a whole lot of interest in chemistry, but Scor's obvious passion for it made it easy enough to seem as much. All she had to do was ask open-ended questions.

In this instance, however, Scor simply arched an eyebrow at her. "A top secret kind."

"You're full of shit," Rhali interjected. "And so is Helly. She's sleeping with her that bloke from theoretical and going out early on a date. Come on, we all know it."

"She is not," Scor sighed, exasperated, and Mary got the distinct impression that the discussion rising had been ongoing before she and Al had arrived. "Jeremy is far too intimidated by her to be able to conduct himself in any sort of intimacy."

Rhali shrugged. "Maybe Helly likes that in a man. The capacity to supremely dominate them and bend them to her will." The grin she directed towards Scor was lupine.

"And what, pray tell, Rhali, would you know about such things?" Al asked. That question too was one that had arisen on multiple occasions, and Mary recognised it as being one that had been birthed long ago. Rhali somehow managed to draw it to the surface at least once every time they caught up, and Mary had only met the other girl about a dozen times or so.

"I'm a relationship expert. You should know that, Ally," Rhali replied, using her pet name for Al. The name that apparently no one could use but Rhali. Mary wasn't sure if it was Al or Rhali who had instilled that rule.

"With all of your eons of experience," Scor muttered, sipping at his tea. He, unlike Al, had resisted Mary's suggestions to try coffee, professing an undying hatred for the taste.

"I don't need experience. I'm an observer of the idiots who engage in courtship dances. You'd be surprised how much you notice when you understand that what it is you're observing will never directly effect you." She paused, titling her head slightly and letting her eyes drift thoughtfully. "It's like watching a gorilla's mating ritual."

"And there you go, Scor. We've just been likened to gorillas."

"It's better than walruses, I suppose."

"Or chipmunks."

"Or worms."

"Do worms even have courtship rituals?" Mary asked the table at large.

"Of course they do," Rhali sniffed, not even glancing at Mary. "Just because it's not obvious to the untrained eye doesn't mean it isn't there."

Rhali was always like that. For the first few times Mary had met the other girl, she had harboured the distinct impression that she was hated. It had only been when she had met Scor alone briefly before Al and Rhali had arrived and tentatively aired her concerns that her fears had been slightly quelled.

"Oh no, that's just Rhali. She pretends to hate everyone for a while. I thought she hated me for about the first six months of our acquaintance. It turned out she was just testing the waters."

It had been nearly a year and a half that Mary had known Rhali. She was still not really friendly, but at least Mary wasn't greeted with a sceptical glare anymore.

"How long are you up in Edinburgh for this time, Rhali?" Mary asked as the thought arose.

Rhali actually spared her a glance this time before turning back to her own coffee. "Only for the day."

"Just for the day? That's an long trip just for one day."

"That's because I don't take the train like an idiot," Rhali replied, her tone thick with condescension.

"You fly up, then?"

"Yeah, Rhali. Do you fly up, then?" Scor's smirk suggested there was something, some sort of joke, beneath the surface that Mary wasn't aware of. She paid it no mind; her friends had a lot of those sort of jokes, and a lot of secrets too. Surprisingly, it didn't bother Mary as much as she'd thought it once might have.

Rhali bared her teeth in something that resembled more of a snarl than a smile. "Of course, my dear Scorpius. You should know, as it is my incredibly loaded friend who pays my airfares."

Mary turned incredulously towards Scor. "You pay for Rhali to fly up?"

Before Scor could reply, Rhali nodded her head fervently, grin widening. "Oh yes, Scor is so altruistic like that. He's got a high-paying job and an wealthy family, and he's incredibly generous with his savings." Her smile was not sweet at all, though thankfully it was directed only towards Scor. "Same goes for Ozzy, too."

"Ozzy's… your friend in Portugal, right?"

"It was Lisbon, yeah," Al replied, because the unspoken conversation of twitching facial expressions and mock glares shared by Rhali and Scor prevented them from doing so. "Not anymore, though. He was headed back to Stockholme last heard."

"Stockholme? That's a bit of a leap."

"Yeah, and he uses Scor's hard-earned cash to fly him there," Rhali chimed in.

"Would you shut up? No one's buying it." Scor sighed, pressing his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. That was news to Mary – who wasn't buying it? – but she enjoyed watching their exchange too much to interrupt it over the matter.

"Scor, I'm just preaching what a wonderful person you are. Al's such a lucky guy."

"Indeed," Al grinned teasingly, though there was a note of sincerity in his tone too.

"Don't you start too," Scor warned, glancing sideways at his boyfriend.

Al leaned towards him to press a kiss on his cheek. "I'm sure you would if Rhali asked you to."

"Hardly, if it was Rhali."

"You would. You love her."

"Yeah, Scor, you love me," Rhali interjected, leaning sideways in her own seat to nudge him with an elbow.

"I most certainly do not. You're a terror."

"You love terror."

"I hate you."

"You love me."

"You drive me insane."

"Yeah, and you love that too."

"Honestly!" There was a brief scuffle. Scor unearthed something – it looked like a long rod of polished wood – and half raised it, lurching forwards in his chair. Skidding backwards in her seat, Rhali cackled manically, delighting in the havoc she wrought. Al, a look of brief concern flashing across his face but chortling nonetheless, threw himself onto Scor and nearly knocked him to the floor. The three of them collapsed into one another, a riot of giggles and exclamations and pants of exertion.

"Scor, put it away!"

"You don't have the balls, Malfoy."

"Don't bring my anatomy into this, Hamphyn. It's none of your business!"

Mary found herself laughing in a mixture of bemusement and sheer merriment. She didn't really understand what was going on, and it left her feeling maybe a little excluded, but it was entertaining to watch, as numerous others in the café were evidently realising from the chuckles around them. At least, that was until a flushed Al righted himself in his seat, stashing the wooden rod into his satchel, and slumped into her shoulder in a casually friendly slouch. He rolled his eyes at her in exasperation, as though asking "can you believe these two?" while said two continued to argue with such rapid fire banter that Mary didn't even attempt to follow it.

No, Mary didn't truly understand a lot of what was said by Al and Scor. She understood even less of what Rhali said, though attributed that to the fact that she'd seen her less frequently. But even so, she felt comfortable with her new friends, friends unlike any she'd ever had before. She'd always been seen as 'weird' or 'different', never quite fitting in. An oddity.

But then, come an Edinburgh change of scenery, and oddities like herself seemed to simply present themselves. The proverb 'birds of a feather flock together' had never been more accurate than the situation in which she found herself. She was comfortable. Complete.

Suffice it to say that Mary Wallace had never been happier. Odd she may be, but that oddness hardly seemed all that bad when everyone else was just as strange.

~The End of Greater Expectations~