24/04/2018


Rage Flows
Bad weather, pain and tension
The young girl in the mirror
Checking out her scars
But she's never going to live
One second of life
Until she lets the rage flow
Swaps it for the paranoia


The last evening of term always had an electrifying effect on the castle. That evening, Gryffindor tower was full and crowded. After packing their bags, Rose and Chandra had agreed that they would try to finish as much of their homework tonight so that their break was free, but as of yet had done no such thing: Rose was painting her nails while Chandra read aloud horoscopes from that day's paper.

'This says that I should be careful not to lose anything,' said Chandra thoughtfully. 'Oh, gosh, can you imagine if I lose something while I'm in France for Christmas? Mum will murder me – last time we went abroad I left my travel papers at the lodge we were staying at and they wouldn't let us get our portkey back.'

'Well, good thing you've got the horoscope, isn't it?' said Rose thoughtfully as she dried her nails with her wand. 'Now you can double check. How are you going to cope being stuck with Lydia and Lavender for two weeks?'

Chandra twirled her hair around her finger thoughtfully. 'I don't know. Hopefully Dad gives us some money for Christmas – that usually makes them nicer. Are you excited to be going home, Rosie?'

Rose didn't answer immediately, but instead tested to see if her nails were dry by tapping them against the coffee table. 'I don't know. I suppose I'm kind of curious to see how Mum's life has changed now that she's the head of the DMLE. I can't imagine she works more now, seeming that would require her to give up sleeping altogether.'

Chandra nodded. 'And has she – you know – mentioned anything to you about it? In letters or anything?'

Rose shook her head. 'Her letters are entirely concerned with how well I'm doing at school and how my prefect patrols are going.'

'Oh, wait, Rosie – don't you have patrol tonight? You're going to be late.'

Rose glanced across the room at the clock on the wall. 'Oh, look at that. Suppose I will be.'

Chandra gave a heavy sigh. 'Gosh, I didn't know how late it was. I suppose I really need to do this Defence homework, don't I?'

She reached for her as yet untouched Defence book on the coffee table and began to flick through it, looking glum. Luckily for Chandra, another distraction arrived in the form of Albus, who came through the portrait hole with his broom over his shoulder. He scanned the common room, spotted the two girls through the crowd and came towards them.

'Evening,' said Chandra brightly when Albus reached them. 'How was practise?'

'I didn't have practise – I was just down at the pitch with Scorpius,' said Albus quickly.

Rose had noticed this happening a lot over the last month, but she still didn't like it: Albus spent a lot of time in the evenings down at the Quidditch pitch with Malfoy.

'Lovely,' she said today. 'Did you find any Muggle-borns to practise your curses on?'

This was the type of comment Rose had started making a lot, and Albus did just what he did when she said these type of things: glared at her and changed the topic. 'Don't you have patrol tonight?'

'Who are you – my mother?'

He rolled his eyes and slumped down on the chair beside Chandra. 'You know, it really gets on Mei's nerves that you're late all the time.'

This was another change of late: Albus spent far too much time with Mei for Rose's liking. She wasn't sure what was worse: his Quidditch training with Malfoy or his dating Mei. 'Did she tell you to keep me in line for her?'

'I'm not keeping you in line, Rose, I'm just saying I don't know why you have to make it so difficult. Mei thinks it's really immature.'

'Oh, well, if Mei thinks so then it must be so,' said Rose icily. 'I had no idea I was such a burden.'

'Yes, you did, because you're doing it on purpose to annoy her,' said Albus bitterly. 'It's honestly getting really annoying. Why do you have to make everything so difficult? Like, I get that you don't like her …'

Rose gave an immense sigh and got to her feet. 'Oh, God, spare me. I'm going, okay? I didn't think it was possible but you've actually become more tedious than patrol, you know, Al?'

She returned her books to her dormitory and pulled on a jacket, before she went back downstairs and made her way through the crowded common room and out of the portrait hole. She was indeed late – a good ten minutes late – but she made no effort to hurry. The corridors were quiet as she started down the stairs and she passed nobody else. That was until she rounded the corner of the third floor and heard somebody call her name from behind her.

She spun around to see Scorpius Malfoy approaching her from down the corridor. He had apparently been coming upstairs from the Quidditch pitch, as he had his broom over his shoulder. His face was set into the usual scowl he wore whenever they had to interact with each other – which was not often. Despite Albus's new found comradery with the Ravenclaw, Rose hadn't exchanged any words with him since the day in September when he had asked her to speak to Zaina for him.

'What do you want?' asked Rose.

Scorpius seemed slightly taken aback by her sharpness, before he recovered and fixed his face into a glare. 'Nothing from you. Albus left these down at the pitch.'

She watched as he reached into his pocket and withdrew a pair of flying gloves, which he held out to Rose.

She eyed the gloves suspiciously, as if they had insulted her. 'Well, you'll have to give them to him tomorrow. I'm going downstairs.'

He raised his eyebrows at her. 'After curfew?'

'It's my patrol night. Not that it's any business of yours.'

'Oh, right. I forgot that gloves are banned on patrols.' He gave them a shake. 'Can you just take them? I might not see Al tomorrow.'

Hearing him call Albus "Al" annoyed her in a way she wasn't expecting, as if there was some familiarity between them she didn't know about. 'I'm not a house elf,' she told him coolly. 'You have hands, don't you? Go upstairs and knock on the Fat Lady's portrait and give them to him yourself.'

He frowned at her. When he did this, the angles of his face were accentuated, making him seem all the more haughty and sullen. 'Do you have a problem with me or something?'

'Well, currently I do, because you're making late for patrol.'

He gave a bitter sigh. 'You know, your life would probably be a lot easier for you if you didn't turn everything into a fight?'

This gave an unpleasant pang, reminding her of what Albus had said to her in the common room. She narrowed her eyes at him. 'My life would probably be a lot easier if Albus had any sense and stopped hanging around with you.'

This seemed to catch him off guard momentarily and then his face twisted into a scowl. 'Why is it any business of yours if Albus and I hang out?'

'Because Albus might be too naive to care,' snapped Rose, 'but I haven't forgotten that you followed us out of the tunnel in September. Now, if you don't mind, I need to go.'

She attempted to sidestep him, but he moved in front of her. She stepped back, looking up at him guardedly. He was taller than her, glaring down at her, and her hand hovered near her pocket where her wand was concealed.

'Can you move, please?' she said more forcefully.

But he ignored her. 'Weasley, I told you – I wanted to see if I could get James Potter off the Quidditch team. And then I changed the mind. It's no big conspiracy – it's just Quidditch politics. What the hell is your problem?'

'You are. Get out of my way.'

He didn't try to stop her this time, but shifted aside, heaving a sigh and rolling his eyes. She didn't look back as she hurried down the stairs, taking the steps two at once to put as much distance as she could between them. She didn't understand why Albus wanted anything to do with Scorpius Malfoy. Not only was he entitled, condescending, and uncooperative, but she was convinced he could be involved in something much more malevolent.

She was still ruminating on this when she reached the second floor. Mei was waiting for her at the top the stairs, her arms folded and her face set into a scowl. 'You're late.'

She didn't know why Mei bothered to say this anymore; she had been late to every prefect patrol since the beginning of term.

'I was studying,' she replied, as she did every time Mei critiqued her tardiness.

'Well, then we'll need to do an extra five minutes at the end of shift.'

They had this conversation every week. 'Well, you can go and I'll do the extra five minutes alone.'

Mei pursed her lips and they started walking.

'We need to be extra cautious of kids sneaking out,' Mei told her after fifteen minutes of silence. 'My common room was mad; it's always like that on the last day of term.'

Under other circumstances, Rose probably would have given some form of retort; this evening, however, she held her tongue. The opportunity had presented itself.

She turned to Mei and said as loftily as she could, 'I was talking to Hamish the other day and we both think we need to do something about students leaving the common room after curfew. What do the Ravenclaw prefects do about it?'

'We don't really have that problem,' said Mei. 'Traditionally Ravenclaws have always been better behaved the Gryffindors.

'Well, I've definitely seen Malfoy out after curfew,' said Rose. 'Have you ever asked him where he goes?'

Mei was silent for a moment in thought before she replied matter-of-factly, 'You're unbelievable, Weasley.'

'Pardon me?'

'Don't think I don't know what you're doing,' snapped Mei. 'Albus told me you don't like Scorpius – and it's really just pathetic. Are you trying to get him taken off the Quidditch team?'

Rose didn't answer immediately; she didn't like the idea of Albus talking to Mei Zhao about her, but she tried not to show this. 'I have no idea what you're talking about.'

'Well, forget it: I'm not helping you get him in trouble. I'd prefer it if we just finished the patrol in silence.'

'Fine with me.' And they did just that.


'Jesus, Zaina, what do you have in here?'

Zaina smiled at him as she watched him heave her trunk down the steps onto the platform. 'Oh, darling. I was going to say you're being very chivalrous until you said that.'

Scorpius managed a deep breath as they started along the platform, Scorpius heaving both sets of bags. 'I am being chivalrous – this is just heavy. We're only going home for two weeks. Did you really pack up your whole dormitory?'

'Darling, I can't leave everything at school. I need to look good while I'm abroad,' said Zaina serenely as she strode along the platform.

It was crowded, with students reuniting with parents or bidding farewell to their friends. Zaina was unimpeded by this; people seemed to have a habit of moving out of the way of Zaina, as if they wanted to keep their distance. He followed after her, pulling both sets of trunks along in their wake, panting slightly in an attempt to catch up with her.

'Ah, there he is – Dad!'

Zaina's father had been waiting close to the platform's exit. He was a tall, handsome man who carried him the same air of elegance and refinement that Zaina did. When he saw his daughter, he gave a broad smile and pulled her into a hug, before he let go of her to look at Scorpius. His smile faded.

'Hello, darling – and hello, Scorpius. How was your trip in?'

Scorpius did his best to smile back. He had spent a lot of time at Zaina's house over the previous summer and he had the distinct impression that Emaad Faheem didn't like him. His smile never seemed to reach his eyes when Scorpius was around.

'Oh, yes, it was fine,' said Zaina brightly, tossing her hair over her shoulder. 'Are we apparating home?'

'Yes, I thought we would.' Emaad eyed Scorpius, as if hoping he might volunteer that he was leaving. 'And how are you getting home, Scorpius? Your father or …'

This was another thing Scorpius had noticed about Emaad: he liked to enquire about Scorpius's father more than seemed necessary. Scorpius couldn't, in earnest, answer this question – he didn't know who was collecting him for the platform, but he suspected it would most likely be one of the family house elves. Not wanting to say this to Emaad, however, he said, 'Yeah, I think so.'

Emaad nodded slowly and hesitated, before saying evenly, 'I've seen in the papers – your father's involvement with Gamp. I do hope all that's been put to rest and the Auror Office have stopped bothering him.'

Scorpius could tell by the way Emaad asked this that he didn't really hope this – he just wanted to pry for information. Scorpius gave a shrug. 'Yeah, I think they have. I'm not really sure.'

Emaad considered him carefully. 'He hasn't said anything to you? About the investigation?'

Scorpius hesitated before answering. He would have liked very much not to have to talk to about this, but it seemed impossible to escape from. 'Well …'

Then, to his relief, they were interrupted by a new voice. 'Scorpius!'

He spun around in disbelief. There, standing before him, was his mother. He was momentarily stunned by the sight of her: she was almost unrecognisable from the woman he had said goodbye to in September. Her brown curls were pulled back from her face in a well-styled bun; she had on a flowing gold dress; and her cheeks, rather than looking hollow and pale, had returned to their previous rosiness. When he didn't say anything, she pulled him into a tight hug, kissing his cheek.

'How are you, darling?'

He was unable to answer briefly, stunned by his surprise. She looked so normal. Maybe everything was okay?

'I'm fine,' he managed. 'And – and how are you?'

'Oh, yes, very good, thanks, dear.' She looked around him now at Zaina and Emaad. 'Hello, Zaina, darling. It's nice to see you. And you must be Zaina's dad – Emaad, isn't it? I believe we've met before … years ago. Perhaps at the Zabinis' house?'

Scorpius knew that Zaina's parents knew his – it was hard for Pureblood families in Britain not to know each other. Even so, Emaad looked vaguely hesitant as he shook Astoria's offered hand. 'Ah, yes, I believe so. Nice to see you. I don't think I've seen you recently … or your husband.'

Astoria seemed unperturbed by this comment. 'No, I don't believe so – you know how life can get in the way. But it is lovely to see you – do you have plans for the winter break?'

Emaad nodded. 'We're visiting family abroad. And yourself?'

'Oh, lovely. Nothing that interesting, I'm afraid. We much catch up when you're back.'

'Yes, indeed.' Emaad glanced down at his wristwatch pointedly. 'Oh, and we must be going – we need to get the house in order so we can leave early tomorrow for our portkey. Come along, Zaina.'

Zaina and Astoria kissed each other's cheeks swiftly before Zaina pulled Scorpius into a hug. 'Bye, darling – I'll write to you, okay? Don't miss me too much.'

Feeling very aware that Emaad was watching, Scorpius nodded and hugged her briefly and then extricated himself. Her father then picked up her school trunk and the two of them disappeared into the crowd, leaving Scorpius with his mother. He was now able to look at her properly – to try to detect any sign of ill-health, but there was nothing. She was smiling pleasantly at him.

'Zaina certainly is lovely, isn't she?' said Astoria brightly. 'What a shame she'll be away for Christmas – I would have liked to see more of her. How will you cope without her, darling?'

The ease with which Astoria was carrying herself was slightly unnerving. There was no indication that she had been sick at all.

'I'll be fine – it's only two weeks,' he managed. He didn't really want to talk about Zaina – he wanted to know if his mother was as okay as she seemed. 'How are you?'

'Oh, yes, wonderful, darling. Well, we should be going too, darling,' said Astoria brightly. 'The elves are getting tea sorted. I thought we could have something special now that you're home. Come on, dear.'

And without any hesitation, she helped him lift his trunk and started towards the platform's exit. He kept glancing her sideways, trying to see any sign of discomfort, or acknowledgement of what had happened, but there was nothing.

'Are you alright, darling?' Astoria asked him as they stepped through the magical barrier and exited into the business of King's Cross Station.

He knew he had been staring, but he couldn't really help it. 'I'm fine, I just … I didn't think it would be you coming to get me.'

'Oh, well, your father's had a lot on, darling,' said Astoria gently. 'You know, with his father … he's needed to spend a lot of time with poor Narcissa, of course.'

Scorpius felt slightly guilty at this; he hadn't been thinking of his grandparents. He'd been thinking only of his mother. 'Yeah, but … I thought maybe one of the elves would come.'

'Oh, nonsense, of course I wanted to come,' said Astoria pleasantly. 'I've missed you, darling – and so has your father.'

Scorpius somewhat doubted this, but he didn't want to say that it to his mother.


Patience was not something that came easily to Dominique Weasley. She was passive and submissive and timid and impressionable, but she had a huge capacity for frustration, and nothing made her more frustrated than waiting.

One hour, she told himself as she scribbled upon the memos before her. One hour and that's it.

She had a two-week break over Christmas. It wasn't much, but for somebody who loathed their job as Dominique loathed hers, it was an exponential blessing. The two-weeks would be dominated by applying for new jobs and finding a flat to move into, or at least that's what she told herself. Something in her life needed to change, and seeming she had been unable to change herself in all of her eighteen years, it would need to be her job and living situation.

'What are you writing so furiously?'

She dropped her quill at the sound of Teddy's voice. That type of response was something that she definitely needed to change, but it was perhaps the thing she most incapable of. She looked up at him; his hair was long today, reaching his shoulders and coloured Hufflepuff canary yellow.

'Just memos,' she told him hurriedly. 'How are you?'

'Bored,' he sighed. 'They've delayed most of our projects until the Ministry starts up again after the break. I'll be on call though, but there's not much to do other than sit around waiting.'

She gave him a sorry smile as he sat down upon her desk. 'That sounds dull.'

'It is. So I've been shopping.'

'Oh, that's nice.'

'It is. And I got you a present.'

'Me?'

'Don't look so surprised. I'm not that bad of a friend, am I?'

'No, of course not… only...'

Only Victoire.

'…only I didn't get you anything,' she told him.

'Forget it. You're busy lately, what with all the Wizengamot bullshit.' He reached into the pocket of his trousers and withdrew a small, red box, wrapped in a gold ribbon. He set it down on the table before her, smiling. 'Here: you deserve it.'

'Oh, Teddy,' she said, picking the tiny box up in her hand. 'I don't want to open it. It's so pretty.'

'If I had known that I would have just gotten you the box and saved the galleons. Come on, Dom, open it.'

Gingerly, she set the box back down on the table as if she was handling something very fragile. With shaking hands she undid the ribbon and lifted the lid of the box, to reveal a delicate gold chain, adorned with a gleaming ruby pendant. She lifted it out of the box, gazing up at the gemstone.

Don't cry, she told herself furiously.

She cleared her throat. 'Oh, Teddy…'

'Do you like it?'

'I love it.'

'Put it on then.'

She tried to but, looping the chain around her neck, she found her hands too unsteady to do up the clasp. Teddy got to his feet and moved behind her chair. She felt his gentle hands sweep her hair back and her skin erupted in goose bumps. His warms fingers grazed her spine as he fastened the necklace.

'There,' he said, stepping around to face her. 'Looks good.'

'I feel terrible,' she said in a small voice. 'I don't have anything for you.'

'Just promise you'll stay all the way through the evening at Christmas, okay?'

Guilt sprung upon her. For the last few years, she had usually snuck off during dinner at the Burrow, inventing some lie about needing to meet friends. She didn't have any friends close enough to want to spend Christmas with her,, and would instead return to Shell Cottage to relish in her solitude, leaving Teddy and Victoire at the Burrow with the rest of the family.

'Okay, I promise,' she told him.

'Good. So what's happened when the Wizengamot convened? Did Rowle's laws go through?'

Dominique bit her lip. 'I'm not supposed to say. Harry hasn't made a statement for the press yet.'

'Oh, right. I was just wondering.'

'Well, you can't tell anyone,' she said, lowering her voice so nobody else in the busy room could hear. 'The changes to the Hogwarts curriculum were rejected, but the lock-out laws went through. No groups of four or more in Magical towns and no more than two people out together after one in the morning.'

Teddy looked aghast. 'That's insane. That's an invasion of human rights.'

'He justified it to the Wizengamot by saying it's only temporary,' said Dominique glumly. 'Only until the Ministry finds out what's going on with the anti-Pureblood stuff.'

'What's to find out? People hate Rowle and the other fascists. No big mystery.'

'Teddy,' said Dominique, trying to sound stern. 'A lot of people got hurt in Hogsmeade.'

'Well, yeah, but that might not even be connected to the vandalism. If people want to protest Rowle then they should be allowed to.'

Dominique remained silent. It was hard not to agree with Teddy.

'So, anyway,' he continued, 'let's talk about something more uplifting. Do you get any time off for Christmas?'

'Yep, two weeks.'

'Nice one. Does the whole Auror Office close?'

'It's supposed to, yeah.'

'But what about the field officers? Are they on call?'

'Yep, same as you. Plus, Harry will have a few stationed at the homes of the Head of Departments and the Minister's staff. Just to keep the media happy, basically.'

'He thinks of everything, doesn't he? So how many memos have you got left?'

'Just a few.'

'How about you finish them in the pub and I buy you a drink?'

'Oh, Teddy, I shouldn't.'

'Yeah, but at the same time you definitely should.'

It wasn't possible. She told herself it wasn't possible. Teddy had been with Victoire since he was fifteen years old. She was the only girl he had ever loved. They were made from each other, forged from the same matter. What right did Dominique have to intervene?

And yet, here was Teddy, standing before her, his eyes watching her unwaveringly, his pendant hanging from her neck, begging her to leave with him. If this wasn't fate, then what was?

'Well, alright,' said Dominique quietly. 'But you can't tell anyone.'

'Of course not.'

She got to her feet to stuff the memos into her bag and pulled on her cloak. She turned back to Teddy to inquire where he wanted to go, but found, all at once, the atmosphere of the room had changed. Amongst the business of her co-workers darting around and the babble of conversation, some soft quiet had come over the office. Heads were turned in the direction of the door and the conversation had quietened. This was what happened when Victoire stepped into a room.

She was in the doorway, wearing black trousers that hugged her hips and cream woollen jumper. Dominique was sure she had seen the exact same outfit on the cover of this month's Witch Weekly. Victoire was smiling as she approached them; the other occupants of the room seemed to fall away as she passed them, standing aside to gaze at her fully. She reached Teddy and laced her fingers through his hair, giving him a deep, awful kiss, before she finally spared a glance for her sister.

'What's the matter with you, Dommy?' inquired Victoire, in her sickly-sweet drawl. 'Are the memos giving you trouble?'

Dominique did not reply. The world was falling back into place; the awful truth of her existence blatant once again.

'She's a bit busy actually,' said Teddy. 'And I should really be getting back to work.'

Dominique looked up at him. He was lying – lying to Victoire – for her: for Dominique.

Victoire pouted. 'Busy, are you, darling?'

'Yeah. Sorry, love.'

'Mhmm. So busy you can find the time to pester my sister during work hours?'

Teddy hesitated, but only for an instant, and then he began to laugh. Dominique's heart was pounding with fear; fear of what she wasn't exactly sure, but she somehow knew what she had done was wrong, even if it was only accepting a necklace.

'Come on; stop making up excuses and take me to lunch,' said Victoire. 'Or have you emptied your bank account again? Is that it?'

Teddy grinned at her. 'You got me.'

'Oh, you naughty boy. Well, I forgive you. Come on, I'll pay. Dominique, you need sleep, darling. You look awful.'

And without another word, she bid her sister and kiss and took Teddy's hand, leading him towards the door. Victoire did not spare Dominique another glance, but, her heart pounding in her chest, Dominique caught Teddy glance back over her shoulder to look at her.


Godric's Hollow in the winter looked like a town from a picture book; snow over thatched rooves and ice frozen beneath the cracks in the cobblestones and naked birch trees lining the roads. The wisteria that obscured Hecate Hall's façade has shrivelled away in the winter, and the messy, overgrown front garden was coated in a sheet of white.

The house always smelt the same when he returned to it; like his father's aftershave and his mother's perfume and the Darjeeling in the kitchen. It was silent when they stepped inside, but the arrival of James and Lily disrupted that.

'He's not that good.'

'He's a better flyer than you were when you were his age!'

'What's the problem, Lil? You like him or something?'

'I do not!'

'James, enough,' ordered Ginny.

'Bring him round for tea, Lily. Us and Farouk and Mei Zhao. It will be spectacular.'

'You're such a prat, James!'

'Lily, don't let him bother you,' their mother beseeched. 'Come on, who wants tea?'

'I will,' said Albus.

'He probably wouldn't like you, Lil. You're too scrawny.'

Ginny's hand flew to her daughter at the same time Lily reached for her wand; Ginny restrained her before she could get it out of her pocket. 'James, go upstairs.'

'I'm only teasing!'

'I don't care. Go.'

'But I've been gone since September. Didn't you miss me, Mother?'

'I did until you started talking.'

'Right, well, I see when I'm not wanted,' said James jovially. 'Finlay's having people over tonight, so I should be heading over.'

Ginny's scowl immediately disappeared. 'But you just got home, James.'

'I know. And my own mother doesn't want me here. I'm hurt.'

'Your dad will want to see you.'

'Well, presumably one more evening without me won't kill him, will it?'

Ginny didn't have a reply. She watched as James rapped his trunk with a wand, vanishing it to appear up in his bedroom, before he stooped to kiss her cheek.

'What time will you be home?' she asked him.

'Sometime tomorrow.'

'You're staying the night?'

'You want me to apparate drunk? That's illegal, Ginny.'

'You don't have to drink, you know.'

'Hah. Very funny. Alright, see you lot later.

And without another word, he retreated back out of the wide oak doors they had just entered through. Albus watched him traipse back across the front garden to the boundary of their property, before he disapparated.

Frowning, Ginny closed the door. 'Alright,' she said bracingly. 'Tea.'

Lily didn't bother with an excuse as she turned away and started up the stairs towards her bedroom. Ginny watched her go, still frowning.

'I'll have tea, Mum,' said Albus.

Ginny turned to him and gave him a small, thankful smile. Albus followed her to the kitchen and took a seat at the table while she set the pot to boil. The room looked just as it had before his departure, only rather than the overgrown green of the backyard out the window he could now see was a paddock covered in snow.

'How's school been, Ducky?' Ginny asked him as she poured them each a cup. 'Lots of work?'

'A little. Not too much. How are things here?'

'Oh, the same,' she told him, taking a seat beside him. 'What are your movements over the break?'

Albus sipped his tea before answering. He considered his response and said very carefully, 'I think I might go visit my friend in Aberdeen.'

Ginny looked up at him. 'I didn't know you had a friend in Aberdeen, Ducky.'

His mother's surprise had to be forgiven; other than Rose, he didn't have friends anywhere. 'It's a new friend.'

'What's their name?'

'Mei.'

Ginny hesitated. Albus knew she was thinking of James's teasing; Us and Farouk and Mei Zhao. 'And what are they like?'

'She's nice. She's in Ravenclaw.'

'When are you going to go visit?'

'Er, well… she suggested tomorrow evening.'

'Oh, that's soon.'

'Yeah, well, she… she wants me to stay the night.'

Ginny gave him a sly look. 'So, is she your girlfriend?'

'No, Mum.'

'No?'

'Well... yeah, I guess. Just for a few weeks though.'

'And when are you planning on letting Dad and I meet her?'

'Uh, well… never, really.'

Ginny laughed, but Albus could see a shadow of hurt across her face. 'Are we that embarrassing?'

'No, I just… it's kind of a long way for her to come.'

'It's just as far for you to go to Aberdeen.'

'Yeah, but I've already said I'll go. Is that okay?'

'Of course it is, Al. I'm not telling you that can't go. I'm just saying it would be nice to meet her.'

Albus didn't have a reply to this and so he sipped his tea.

'If you don't want her to endure James we can kick him out for the evening.'

Albus couldn't help but grin. 'Maybe. So, can I stay in Aberdeen?'

'If her parents are alright with it, then of course.'

'Okay, cool.'

'Will you be sharing a room?'

'No, Mum, of course not.'

'I wasn't asking to tell you not to, Al. I was just asking so I know.'

'I need to go send her an owl.'

'Don't you not want to talk about this with me?'

'No, I just really should write to her before dark.'

'Perhaps I could come with you to Aberdeen?

'Mum.'

'Your dad and I could stay the night up there, meet her parents…'

'Mum, you're not funny.'

'Okay, fine,' sighed Ginny. 'You're no fun.'

Albus got to his feet, trying to avoid his mother's eyes. He could feel his face burning. He started towards the door, but found himself brought to a halt when she caught his hand. He looked back at her; she was wearing a strange look on her face as she got to her feet and pulled him into a hug.

'Mum…'

'I miss you when you're at school, you know?'

'Yeah, I miss you too.'

'And now you're leaving again. I'm heartbroken.'

'Mum, it's… it's only one night.'

'I'm only joking, Ducky.' But when she released him the look on her face told him she was very serious.

He didn't know what to say to her, and so he asked, 'When will dad be home?'

'Oh, I have no idea.'

'He... he doesn't know?'

'No, he just doesn't tell me.'

'Oh.'

There was a very pregnant pause, before Ginny got to her feet to refill the teapot. 'You should go send your letter, Al. It will be dark soon.'

'Right… yeah. Okay.'


They weren't hard to spot if you looked long enough; the slight shimmer in the air, like a mirage on a hot road, that gave away the disillusionment charm. She hadn't tried to notice them, but after the first day at home was mainly spent sitting at the window seat in her bedroom looking out onto the street as she attempted to get through her homework, and she inevitably spotted them.

She hadn't really been surprised - shouldn't she have expected that there was going to be Aurors stationed at her parents' house after recent events? But seeing them out the window - seeing them come and go - was like a prickly reminder that her parents didn't want to be honest with her. She needed to look at something else.

She had her suspicions that the creaky step three doors from the bottom of the stairs had been intelligently designed by her mother. She did her best to miss it most days, but after three months away from home she was out of practice. She remembered as soon as her boots made contact, and at once she heard her name called from the kitchen.

'Rose?'

'Yes?' she bellowed back down the passageway.

'Can you come to the kitchen?'

'What for?'

'Come here. I don't want to yell.'

Sighing, she jumped the last two remaining steps and hurried down the passageway. She knew better than to step fully into the kitchen, because that meant she would committing to a conversation, and so merely leant in from the doorway, finding her mother and father sitting at the dining table.

'What are you all dressed up for, Rosie?' asked her father.

Her father often asked her this, no matter what she was wearing. Today it was a pair of old jeans and a woollen jumper. 'I'm not dressed up, Dad.'

'Where are you off to, darling?' pressed her mother.

Rose couldn't refrain from rolling her eyes. Her parents liked to fool themselves into believing they were laid back, but they were not. They maintained their lofty, inquiring tones, hoping to sound merely interested, but she knew this was not the case; they wanted to know if it was somewhere they could either stop her going or somewhere to which they could accompany her.

'I was going out to get a coffee from down the street,' she told them. This was not strictly speaking a lie; she had intended to get a coffee. However, in addition to the coffee she had intended to meander around London for several hours so as to avoid listening the bellowed shouts of Hugo and his friends from the backyard throughout their endless Quidditch match. 'Is that allowed?'

'Oh, I'll come with you,' said Hermione, getting to her feet. 'That's just what I feel like.'

'I'll just bring you back one.'

'But I want one too,' said Ron. 'You can't carry all three, Rosie.'

She heaved a sigh and leant heavily against the doorframe. 'True.'

'Let me get my coat,' said Hermione cheerfully.

Once her mother was fully bundled up against the cold, she and Rose left the house and started down the steps into the garden. While Rose was sullen, her mother was seemingly jubilant; this, Rose knew, was an attempt to distract Rose from the auror stationed whose concealment charm her parents believed was beyond detection of s sixteen-year-old.

The walk to the coffee shop at the end of Pembroke Road took no more than five minutes, and yet it was enough for Rose's frustration to build. Her mother pressed her for information on everything – OWLs, prefect duty, her favourite subjects – and yet Rose had long ago abandoned any attempt to ask her mother about the Ministry. They found the coffee shop packed to the brim with locals escaping the cold; this only exacerbated Rose's anger. They pushed their through the crowd to the counter, ordered their drinks, and then tried their best to push themselves into a corner where they would be out of the way while they waited.

Rose offered nothing in the way of conversation, and so her mother said to her, 'Your hair's getting very long, Rosie.'

'I need to cut it.'

'It suits you.'

'There's too much of it.'

'Well, I can cut it for you, if you like.'

'I can do it.'

'It was very crooked last time you did it yourself.'

'Well, I don't really care.'

'Well, if you don't mind then go ahead.'

Rose turned away, rolling her eyes, to gaze out the window.

Rose wouldn't have believed it possible, but when her mother spoke again her voice was even more forcefully bright. 'Have you been reading the Prophet?'

She had been waiting for this since arriving home yesterday. 'A bit.'

'So, you know, because of what happened to Gustav Gamp we might have some aurors at our place over the Christmas break. Not because there's any threat – just a bureaucratic thing.'

'Yeah, I know.'

'But don't let it worry you. You'll just have to let me know if any of your friends are coming over.'

'The only people who come see me are Chandra and Albus and she's gone to France for the break and he'll be in Aberdeen with his girlfriend.'

'Albus has a girlfriend?'

'Yeah.'

'Oh, that's nice. What's she like?'

'Awful.'

'Rosie.'

'Well, she is.'

'You shouldn't talk about her like that if Albus likes her.'

'She says worse things about me, I'm sure.'

Hermione frowned. 'What on earth would she have to say about you?'

If Rose had not been feeling so annoyed, she may have laughed at that. 'Forget I mentioned it.'

'Why is Albus going out with her if she isn't nice to you?'

'Because he's a person of his own free will and his personal life isn't dictated by my preferences.'

Hermione gave a sigh, finally relenting. 'Alright, Rose. I'll stop talking.' She stepped forward to receive their coffees from the barista. 'Here, take yours.'

'Thanks.'

They turned towards the door of the crowded coffee shop, Rose finding her path impeded. She looked up at the person in front of her and her heart gave an unpleasant jolt and she forced herself not to scowl. 'Oh, hello.'

'Rosie, hi,' said Andrew, beaming down at her. He seemed to have grown another foot since she had last seen him, only exacerbating his resemblance to a skinny, blond beanstalk. He was wearing a pair of neat Muggle trainers, jeans, and a Fulham football club sweater. 'I didn't know you were home. How are you?'

'Fine. How are you?'

'Good now that the term's over. Did you get any snow at school before you came down south?'

'Yeah, a little.'

'Cool. So, what GCSE subjects are you taking?'

'Oh, you know… English, history, maths. Just the boring ones. Sorry, Andrew, but I should go…'

'We're not in a hurry, Rosie,' said her mother quickly, looking between her daughter and the blond.

'No, Mum, it's fine… I have homework, so, you know, need to get home.'

'Yeah, no problem,' said Andrew brightly. 'But we should catch up before you go back North. When are you free?'

'I'll have to let you know.'

'Okay, sure. I don't think I have your number?'

'My phone's still broken,' she said quickly. 'I'll knock on your door if I'm passing. I better go.'

'Alright, cool. Bye, Rosie.'

'Bye, Andrew.'

And with that she pushed her way out of the café, ignoring the disgruntled looks she received from customers she jostled them out of the way. Her mother bid Andrew goodbye and followed her outside, hurrying to keep up with her pace as they traipsed down the street.

'I didn't know you two were friends,' said her mother as they walked.

'We're not. I've just chatted to him on the street before.'

'He knows you go to school in Scotland?'

'I told him Manchester.'

'Why Manchester?'

'I don't know. It came to mind.'

'And how long has your phone been broken?'

'About a year now.'

'You know, if it would make your life easier I could buy you a phone.'

'I don't want a phone.'

'It wouldn't work while you're at school, but you could use it in the summer if you want to talk to him.'

'I don't want to talk to him.'

'Why not? He's gotten very tall.'

'Is that how I should decide whether to talk to somewhat or not? Their capacity for conversation correlates with their height?'

Her mother sighed. 'You're impossible, Rose.'

'I just don't see what his being tall has to do with anything.'

'It doesn't, but he seems like a nice boy. You could give him a chance.'

She had already done so, and been unimpressed, but she wasn't going to tell her mother this. 'He's not my type.'

'Who is your type?'

'God, you don't even know that boy. For all you know he's a murderous psychopath.'

'I just thought… Chandra and Albus are away, perhaps you might like to – to meet some knew friends.'

'Some lovely new friends to distract me from the aurors at our front door?'

Hermione seemed taken aback only very briefly, before she recovered and said sternly, 'Rose, there's not need to get so annoyed-'

'I'm sixteen, I know how to see through a concealment charm,' said Rose coolly as they reached their front gate. 'You treat me like I'm five; escorting me down the street and then setting up playdates for me with Muggles. Here,' she said forcefully, offering her coffee out to the bewildered-looking auror who believed himself to be invisible, 'have this. I don't want it.'

Forcing it into the bewildered auror's hand, she stomped away up the front steps and into the house towards her bedroom.

She climbed the stairs, ignoring her father's call of welcome, to the third floor of the house. She shut the door of her bedroom after her and moved across to her bed, dropping down onto it. Across the room, she could see a sliver of her reflection caught in the mirror. Staring across at the freckly, lanky, bug-eyed girl, she tried to remember when she became like this.

Surely, at some point, she had been reasonable. At what stage of life, after which transgression or occurrence, had she become so difficult, so compelled to be contrarian? She couldn't place her finger on it and though, as she mulled over herself, she knew that it was some conglomeration of the journalists taking her picture when her father walked her through the park and the aurors stationed around her mother that nobody would justify and her parents wanting her to be brilliant but not brilliant enough to know fully had happened to them in their youth.

It was the compulsion not to become like they were; scarred and purposeful and marred by the war they had grown up in. She couldn't blame them for it, as there was no fault on their part, but she knew that was why she was they she was; she didn't want to be like them.


The drawing room he stepped into looked like it belonged in a history book. Lords of Scotland in the Seventeen-Hundreds, he thought to himself. Mei was waiting for him across the room, sitting on a dragon-hide settee. She looked up when she heard the flames roaring, setting her book down to get to her feet.

He stepped out of the fireplace, dusting the soot off of him. 'Hi.'

'Hello.'

'You look pretty.'

She tugged at the hem of her teal shift dress. 'Thank you.'

He was feeling nervous, for reasons he was not entirely sure of. They had never spent a full day together, let alone an entire evening. He set down his over-night bag near the hearth and stepped forward to kiss her.

When they broke apart he took an appraising look around the room. Outside the window he could see snow-capped pine trees expanding over a large estate. 'I like your house.'

'I can show you around after dinner. Come on, they'll have set the table.'

'Oh… great. Okay.'

'Don't worry, they're not picky with who they like.'

He didn't really believe Mei intended this to be insulting, but it none-the-less battered his confidence somewhat. They left the drawing room and she led him through a long, carpeted passageway and down a flight of stairs.

He had never met Cassie's parents when they were going out; she had never seemed to want him to. Hurt as he was by this, it had been far less trouble than what Mei was insisting upon.

Mei led him through a high archway into a expansive dining room that he believed could have been a painting hanging in a gallery of Georgian art. The walls were adorned in woven tapestries; the velvet curtains were pulled back to reveal a darkened courtyard full of naked, frozen rose bushes. In the centre of the room was a gleaming mahogany table long enough to fit twenty people.

His stomach clenched. For somebody from a family as affluent as his own, he had very little knowledge of anything to do with class. When he was very young, his father had placated the Ministry by attending various dinner, events, and fun-raises; but Harry had since lost his patience for it. Dinner at Hecate Hall usually involved he and his parents and siblings crowded around their kitchen table arguing about something.

Mei didn't sit at the table, however. She continued across the room and opened a small door that led into a side room.

'Mum,' she said into the room. 'He's here.'

His heart was pounding in his chest. He stood near the door, waiting for Mei's mother to appear. He had no experience with fine dining and he wondered how long it would take the woman to discern that.

But rather than anybody stepping into the dining room, Mei looked over her shoulder and she gestured for Albus to follow her inside. The room he found himself was far less intimidating than the elegant dining room; it was a small, dainty kitchen, full of steam and the smell of roast lamb. A woman stood over the stove top tending to a saucepan of sprouts, while across the room a man was setting places at a small kitchen table. They both looked around as he and Mei entered.

'Albus, this is my mum Yun, and this is Adalric.'

'Darling,' said Yun, and without another word she moved forward to pull him into a hug. 'It's lovely to meet you, finally.'

Mei's mother was small, slim, and elegant looking, but bore very little resemblance to her daughter other than her long dark hair. Albus also found it hard to imagine Mei ever pulling a stranger into a hug.

'Good to meet you finally, Albus,' said Adalric, who had moved forward to offer Albus his hand. He was very tall and considerably older than his wife, though no less goodlooking. 'Ever been to Aberdeen before?'

'Er – no. This is my first time.'

'Well, Mei will have to show you around while you're here. Who wants a drink?'

As Adalric shuffled past them to open the kitchen cabinets, Albus stumbled clumsily out of the way. Mei took a purposeful hold of his arm and pulled him over to the kitchen table, depositing him in a chair where he couldn't bother anyone. She took a seat beside him as Adalric crossed back across the kitchen, holding a bottle of mead and levitating four glasses.

'Do you like red, Albus?'

'Er… I… I don't really drink.'

'You'll like it just fine, Albus,' said Mei impatiently.

Albus could see Adalric repressing a smile as he poured them each a glass.

'If you don't like it you don't need to finish it; I won't be offended,' Adalric assured him as he passed him the glass.

Mei was already sipping her wine. Albus knew her seventeenth birthday wasn't until next year, and he also knew that she wasn't one to disobey laws; however, by the manner in which her parents seemed to behave around her it appeared they gave more credence to her maturity than his parents had ever given him. As Yun approached with a tray full of roast lamb, Mei levitated away the bottle of wine to make room and summoned over napkins for each of them from the kitchen cabinet; in his own home, he was used to watching James and Lily put up a fight whenever they were asked to do more than pour their own tea.

'So, Mei tells us you're taking your OWLs this year, dear?' said Yun as Adalric served them all potatoes.

'Yeah. I – yeah.'

'Tough year,' said Adalric. 'It's not stressing you out too much?'

'Er, well… well Mei's really good at helping me study.'

Yun, who had set to carving up the lamb, gave a laugh. 'Oh, darling, aren't you good letting her hound you into the library?'

'Mum,' hissed Mei, rolling her eyes.

Yun ignored her. 'You must learn to say no to her, Albus, or you'll never see the light of day.'

Apparently in an attempt to spare his step-daughter, Adalric turned to Albus and said, ''I'm a big fan of your mum's column. I loved her commentary of the Cannons game last week.'

'Oh, cool, I'll… I'll let her know.'

'It sounds like a fascinating job, what she does,' said Yun. 'What is it that you plan on doing after school, Albus?'

'Er, well… I…'

'He's not sure yet,' Mei finished for him. 'Anyway, is everyone ready to start eating?'


It was snowing feebly when he arrived. Stumbling from the apparition, he trudged forward and kicked the gate open. He had forgotten his coat at Finlay's house, but the mead warded off the cold better than he had hoped. He stood huddled at the foot of the front door with his wand held aloft, tapping the lock, trying to remember the counter-charms. It took him several attempts before he managed to let himself inside.

Hecate Hall was silent, his family asleep above, and he moved uninhibited through the foyer towards the kitchen. He wasn't finished drinking. Flicking his wand, he ignited the torches and stepped inside. He had, it seemed, been too optimistic in anticipating his solitude. His father was sitting at the kitchen table, still in his auror's cloak, looking thoroughly dishevelled and older than James remembered. A plate of baked beans on toast sat in front of him.

'Oh, hello,' said Harry. 'Do you live here too?'

He recovered from his surprise in time to reply, 'Unfortunately.'

'Ah, yes. I do vaguely remember a third child. It's been so long though, I was beginning to think I'd imagined him.'

Caught off guard at finding his father, James had forgotten why he had come into the kitchen. He pulled out a seat at the kitchen table and dropped into it. 'You can talk.'

'I can? That's clever of me.'

'When did you get home?' James gestured clumsily towards the plate of baked beans. 'Clearly you missed dinner.'

'I'm an adult. I can do as I like.'

'So can I – I mean so am I – I mean… you know what a mean.'

Harry gave a wry smile. 'Have something to eat.'

'Nah, not hungry. Could go for some mead though. You got any?'

'Haven't you had enough?'

James, in his drunkenness, did his best to look severe. 'Harry, please. Be serious.'

'There's some in the cabinet. Pour me a glass.'

James got swaggeringly to his feet. Harry observed him from across the room, wrenching the cabinets open unceremoniously. Harry warned him to be quiet, knowing he would go ignored, and watched as his son uncorked the bottle of mead and poured them both a glass.

'Thank you,' said Harry as James passed it to him.

James collapsed back into his chair and drank deeply. 'This is shitty mead.'

'You're welcome.'

'Ginny's not going to be happy with you.'

'I think I'll be spared. I have you to thank for that. She told me you were out the door again as soon as you arrived on Saturday.'

'Your head's bleeding,' was the only reply James bothered with.

Harry raised a hand to his temple, touching his fingers to it and pulling them away to inspect the droplets of blood. He stifled a curse and took out his wand, conjuring a handkerchief and putting it to his head. With his free hand he returned to his beans on toast, trying to look unfazed.

'What were you doing tonight?' James asked him.

'James, I've made a point of not asking you that question. Can we respect each other's privacy?'

'I'll tell you what I did. What do you want to know?'

Harry smiled and sipped his wine. 'I don't want to know anything.'

'I got off with this girl called Corrina. She wanted me to go back to her place tonight but she's a real pain to get away from in the morning, so I told her I was staying at Finlay's. I would have stayed at Finlay's, but he got off with some bloke, so I had to come back here.' He took another greedy gulp of mead. 'Your turn.'

Harry hesitated and sipped is wine. 'Well, your night sounds a lot more interesting than mine.'

'It's because you're old and boring.'

'I know.'

'And you need to retire. I mean, seriously? Can't even fix your own wounds before coming home? And you wonder why Ginny's always railing at you.'

'I think it's time for us both to go to bed, James.'

'You're seriously not going to tell me where you were? I'll tell you what colour knickers Corrina was wearing,'

'James.'

'Was it more of this blood equality stuff? Like what happened in Hogsmeade?'

'No, it's far less interesting. Come on, get up.'

'So why can't you tell me?'

Harry picked up both glasses of mead and crossed to the sink, emptying them. 'Because I promised myself a long time ago I wouldn't talk about my work with my children.'

'But I'm all grown up now.'

'Really? I'd never have known.'

'Now that's just mean.'

Harry put his hand around James's arm, trying to ease him up, but James wouldn't co-operate. He looked up at his father with the eyes he shared with his mother.

'I'm very stubborn, you know, Harry?'

Heaving a sigh, Harry let go of James to pull out his wand and vanish the bloodied handkerchief. 'We were acting on a tip-off regarding some stolen cauldrons. Nothing to do with the Hogsmeade case. We have no leads on that.'

James cocked an eyebrow. 'None at all?'

'No more than what was reported in the papers.'

'But is it the same people who vandalised Diagon Alley? And the same people who killed Gamp?'

'I can't tell you that,' said Harry, 'but even if I could it wouldn't matter, because we have no idea.'

James's brow creased. He sat stationary for a while, thinking, before he pulled himself to his feet. 'Is this like… bad? Like worse than the other cases you've worked on?'

'I've been an auror for a long time now. There's been a lot of worsts.'

They left the kitchen and climbed the stairs as quietly as they could, but with James's heavy, stumbling footsteps, it was hardly very quiet. They started down the passageway and reached James's bedroom, Harry pausing as James opened the door. He peered inside; it was the first time he had seen it since the first day of September. It remained unchanged; his mess was in the same place he left it, clothes strewn across the floor, Quidditch posters tacked half-heartedly into the wall paper.

'Well, goodnight,' his father said to him. 'Enjoy your hangover.'

He turned away from his bedroom to look at his father. 'You know what Finlay told me the other day?'

'What?'

'He said he wants to join the Ministry.'

'Does he?'

'Because of Rowle. To stand up to him or some rubbish like that. And then tonight I heard him talking about enrolling in the auror programme.'

Harry did not reply immediately, but creased his brow in thought, dried blood glistening over the old, faded scar. He raised a hand to cup James's shoulder and said evenly, 'Don't let him.'

And with that he gave his son's shoulder a brief squeeze before he turned away and disappeared down the darkened corridor towards his own bedroom.


It was near midnight by the time they returned to the manor house. They had donned scarves, gloves, and heavy coats for Mei to show him around the gardens, and yet they were still shivering and their faces were flushed from the chill as they climbed the stairs to Mei's bedroom.

'We can go into town tomorrow,' she told him, keeping her voice low so as not to reach her parents' room. 'Would you like to see the coast?'

'I'm happy to do whatever you'd like to do.'

'You always say that.'

'Well, I am.'

'You're making me feel like my mother's right; perhaps I do hound you.' He made to protest, but Mei stopped him when she came to a halt at a set of double-doors. 'This is your room.' She opened the door to reveal a handsome room furnished with the same elegance of the rest of the house wide double bed. 'Are you ready to go to bed?'

'I – what?'

'To sleep. Are you tired? It's quite late.'

'Oh, I… I can if you are.'

'Not particularly. Do you want to see my room?'

He told her he did, and she led him further down the passageway to another set of double-doors. She stepped through them and he followed her inside, suddenly enveloped by a rich, sweet smell that was something like lavender and old books and very much like Mei.

He gazed around him; there was the same regal decor as the rest of the house with the Georgian furnishings and tall bookshelves, but there was something much more familiar about the room; a corkboard hung on the wall sporting an array of pictures of Mei's friends; a polished desk sat in the corner, overwhelmed with school books and piles of parchment; her bed was beneath the window, covered in delicate floral linens.

'I like your room,' he told her.

She shut the door behind him. 'I don't want to wake my parents up.'

'Oh – will you get in trouble if I'm in here?'

She sighed, taking a seat at her desk. 'No, Albus. I'm just being considerate.'

'Oh, right…'

Unsure of what to do with himself, he crossed the room to inspect the corkboard. He recognised the Ravenclaw girls Mei was with in each of the photos, none of whom he had ever spoken to. He imagined, somewhat horrified, at what Mei would find if she ever came to his house; he had no pictures of friends on his walls.

He paused over a photograph in the corkboard's centre; the people pictured were moving feebly, waving at the camera. The Mei in the picture looked around eight and was smiling more broadly than he had ever seen her.

Mei moved in her seat to see what he was looking out. 'That's my dad.'

'He looks like you.'

'A little, I suppose.'

'Is that in Dorset?'

'Yeah. That was right before he got sick. I don't have many pictures of him up. It makes Mum sad.'

Albus nodded, as if he understood, but of course he did not. He decided he didn't much want to look at the picture anymore and so he turned towards the bookshelf, inspecting the titles on the spines.

'Hey, Albus?'

He looked around at her. Beneath the soft light of the torches, she looked very gentle. 'Yeah?'

'Thank you for coming. I know you didn't want to, but thank you.'

'Oh, it's – it's nothing. I did want to come – I wanted to see your home.'

'Yes, I know that, but I know meeting my parents made you nervous.'

'Yes, well… do you think they like me?'

'I'm sure they do.'

'I didn't have anything to say to them, though.'

'They were happy just asking you questions. I've never brought a boy home before. Mum was pretending it wasn't a big deal, but before you got here it was all she was talking about.'

'Yeah, well, I've never met a girl's parents before, so this is a first for me too.'

'Cassandra Kettleburn didn't want you to meet her parents?'

'No, not really. I would have been too scared, anyway.'

'You were scared this evening, but you still came.'

'Yes, well, me and Cassie…' He paused; he wasn't sure what he was meaning to tell her. 'I don't think I liked Cassie the way I like you.'

Mei cocked her head. 'And how do you like me?'

'Well… well, quite a bit, I suppose.'

Mei's brow creased, as if confronted with a tricky sentence in a textbook, before she said carefully, 'I like you quite a bit too.'

'Thank you.' There was a silence, before Albus told her, 'I like your house. There's something good here. Like… your parents seem to give you space. It's kind of… peaceful. I wish my house was like that.'

'Yes, I suppose you're right. I've always gotten on well with my parents, I suppose. They never treated me like a child.'

'You don't argue?'

'Well, everyone argues, but not very much.'

'My family argues a lot.'

'Well, there are three siblings in your house.'

'I suppose, but it's more…'

'More what?'

'Well, it's just… if it was just James and Lily arguing I suppose it wouldn't bother me so much. But Mum and Dad do it too. It makes me feel like… I don't know. Seeing you parents it makes me think my family might not be – not be normal, you know?'

'Nobody thinks their family's normal. And Mum and Adalric certainly argue. Not always, but they do.'

'I suppose.'

'And anyway,' said Mei, 'I don't think anyone could expect your family to be wholly normal, after what happened to them.'

'Well, yeah, but… but then when I come home it's just so… Lily and James started fighting the second we left King's Cross, and then when we got home James immediately went out, and Mum didn't say so but I could tell it upset her, and then Dad got home late as always and they argued about that and – and it's just so loud.'

'Well, your mum should be expecting him to come home late. She married an auror, after all.'

'I guess,' said Albus. 'They got married before he was an auror, though.'

'But he joined the auror office when he was eighteen, right?'

'Yeah, but they got married really young,' he explained. 'Like – like a few months after the war ended or something like that.'

'Really?'

'Yeah. Once Mum turned seventeen. So August. And the war ended…'

'May,' she finished for him. 'She was only seventeen?'

'Yeah.'

'That's way too young.'

Albus wasn't sure how to respond to this. He tried to imagine if James announced his engagement. He decided Mei was probably right. 'Yeah, I guess so.'

She glanced at her watch and got to her feet. 'We should probably sleep if we want to have time to go to the beach before you need to be home.'

'Oh, right, yeah. I forgot I was leaving tomorrow.'

'You can stay longer if you like.'

He paused near her doorway. 'I would like that, only… only I feel like my mum's lonely. I don't think I ever realised it before, but I think she is.'

Mei gave a slow nod, before she reached to take his hand. 'You're a very nice person, Albus.'

'I… thank you. I'm – I'm glad.'

'I think I ought to be more like you.'

'No, you shouldn't. You're good as you are.'

He saw her cheeks darken somewhat, before she raised a hand to his cheek and inclined to kiss him. She hadn't kissed him like that before; it was always fleeting, nervous, hiding from prying eyes, but this was something more. Deep and ongoing and longing for more. He laced his arms around her, his hands trailing through her long, smooth dark hair. He wanted more – he wanted to touch more of her, a kind of hunger he had never felt fully before…

He pulled away from her, retracting his hands. He realised now that he was breathing heavily, his chest pounding. She was looking down at him with dark, searching eyes, and he knew she felt the same.

'Mei…'

'Yes?'

'I… Your parents are down the hall.'

Her eyes flittered past him to the closed door. For a second it looked as if she would protest, before she seemed to remember herself, and she gave a slow now. 'You're right.'

'I'll – I'll see you tomorrow.'

'Yes. Goodnight, Albus.'

'Night, Mei.'


Song credit: Rage Flows by the Born Ruffians.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I know I updated not too long ago, but I capitalised on a break between assignments to get ahead with the writing.

Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you thought in a review, I'd be very grateful! xx