CenturionEon: Hello! Yes, the relationship will develop as the series goes on, especially as Alexander comes to terms. I won't say much because, you know, spoilers... But their dynamic is defiantly my favourite thing to write about. The tone in the journal was exactly what I was going for, so thank you for spotting that. I very much enjoyed your rambling and thank you so much for the high praise! I really appreciate it.
All good things must end.
Alexander knew his time in Paris would end. With a heavy heart, he said farewell to Esmée for the last time and packed his trunk for home.
The holiday had been a period of wonder for him. He had created this tiny bubble where he wasn't affected by the stress and turmoil of the past year, and nothing could break it. But now the bubble had collapsed, and he was back in Notting Hill.
The time to return to Hogwarts was fast approaching; though he loved walking through the cobbled lanes to wide boulevards of Paris, eating Berthillon's ice cream, or tasting the sweet lips of Esmée's, he missed his friends dearly. He couldn't wait to see them and hear what they'd been up to.
Alexander hadn't heard from Harry in a while. A horrible feeling churned in his stomach that the Dursleys had something to do with it. He had seen first-hand the horrible treatment they gave his friend and would never put it past them. His knowledge of how badly they treated Harry was limited, and Harry had not revealed much about it. He was unusually quiet on that topic.
Still, he couldn't fault Harry. Alexander hadn't told his friends about his family either. He didn't want to see the pity or disgust on their faces or have their opinion of him change. Because he wasn't his grandfather, he just wasn't. He couldn't be. . .
Eliot visited them the day after they arrived. Seeing Eliot's warm smile, Alexander flooded into excitement as he bounded down the stairs. He embraced Eliot with a broad grin as he breathed in sandalwood and fresh fabric softener. It was a scent that belonged to Eliot and he realised just how much he missed it after weeks on holiday.
It smelled like home.
After shutting his bedroom door, Alexander wrote a letter to Harry, asking if he was well and that he was back in London. Tying the letter to Apollo's leg, he watched him soar through the open window. Then his blue eyes caught the Hogwarts letter and the permission slip lying on his desk.
Something thrilling was happening this year: Hogsmeade. Hermione had mentioned it in one of her letters, and she was eager to explore it. Grandfather had signed his form. He feared being denied permission for a moment, but it turned out to be false. He was curious about the village and its shops and made a mental note to bring more money from Gringotts. It seemed he would need it.
Hogsmeade was all the third-years could talk about last year. Nia and Helen raved about the village in the short time they visited before the attacks happened. The two promised to show him the best places to go. He couldn't wait. His body buzzed with anticipation and his mind drifted to the possibilities.
Beside lay his book list. Alexander walked over and picked up the paper, his eyes scanning over the list. It wasn't very long this year. He pledged to go to Diagon Alley tomorrow. He purchased no books yet or read anything about magic. Over the summer he read a Shakespeare play, a Greek mythology book, and re-read Lord of the Rings for the millionth time.
Hermione had doubtless read all the books so far. He smiled in fondness at the thought. He'd missed hearing her ramble about the new knowledge they would learn.
This year was already turning out to be better. And he prayed it would stay that way.
He didn't want a repeat. Just once, please let there be no serpents or stone people or weird voices in the walls. Alexander was determined to focus on his studies, push himself to his full potential, and spend more time with his friends. He didn't get a chance before.
Mostly, he hoped to do something with his crush on Helen. Maybe ask her out on a date. Or a kiss, if he was lucky. His stomach fluttered at the thought.
It also pleased him to notice that none of Lockhart's ridiculous books was making a comeback. He didn't know how much he could take if he had to see Hermione swooning over him for another year. Good riddance to the blond-haired, obnoxious connard. Still, he wondered who would replace him this year. Whoever it was couldn't be worse than Lockhart, that was for sure.
Alexander sat down on the edge of his bed, realising that he was taking on two new subjects this year: Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures. His eyebrows rose at the unusual name: the Monster Book of Monsters. Hmm, weird, he thought.
He grimaced as he recalled Nia's words echoing how stressful the third year was. But it was a comfort to know that he wouldn't be alone in either lesson. Most of his friends were enrolled in Care of Magical Creatures, and Hermione shared Ancient Runes alone with him. At least if he struggled, he could always rely on her. Hermione has never let him down before.
The next morning, Alexander woke to the sun's golden beams gleaming down on his face. He came downstairs to the kitchen, where his grandfather was having breakfast. It was early for Eliot to be here. Grandfather had the Daily Prophet laid out on the table as he sipped his coffee. His brows creased as he turned the page and flicked his eyes up to meet Alexander's blue spheres.
"Good morning, Alexander," said his grandfather curtly, without taking his eyes off the paper. "How are you today?" His greeting was routine, as was Alexander's reply.
Alexander nodded and went to warm up his toast. "Morning, Grandfather. I'm well."
There was a sound of crumpling newspaper every few minutes while the two ate in silence. During other instances, Alexander switched on the radio. The conversation was scarce; in the past, Alexander tried to talk to his grandfather but received one-word answers or quiet grunts in response.
After he had cleaned and washed, Alexander approached Grandfather with his hands behind his back and his posture straight. His grandfather raised a short eyebrow in question.
"Grandfather, I'm heading off to get my school supplies. September first is fast approaching, and I need some things."
"Yes, I am sorry to say that it had slipped my mind," Grandfather replied musingly. He folded up his newspaper and stood up. "But no matter, we shall go today. I will let Fudge know that I am taking a day off."
Alexander shook his head, halting his grandfather on the spot. "Um, that won't be necessary, Grandfather. I was thinking of going myself."
Not much could surprise Grandfather but this seemed to. "By yourself?" Grandfather repeated slowly.
Alexander nodded. "Yes. Albert can take me and bring me back. I've been two times already and know my way." He cleared his throat and kept his voice steady. "I don't need you anymore."
Grandfather blinked. His expression flashed with something unreadable before he nodded. "Well, if you are sure, Alexander – "
"I am," Alexander affirmed in a forceful tone. Grandfather reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, polished key and presented it to Alexander.
"This is for the Laurent Vault. I am sure you remember. Keep it safe. Now, be safe, for your own sake, if not mine."
"I will."
Grandfather's lips pressed together and his expression became serious. "Good. Also, Alexander, when you return later in the day, I need to talk to you about a most important matter."
"Okay. What is it?" Alexander couldn't help his curious tone despite the dread that'd entered his body.
"You will know this evening. It concerns you, however, which is why I need you to be here. I will come home early from work."
What could this entail? Alexander's thoughts raced a million miles. As he rearranged his blank expression in order not to reveal anything, Alexander remained fearful that Grandfather had discovered what he knew about him. Alexander detested how skilled he was becoming at keeping secrets from his friends and his grandfather.
This must be serious if Grandfather was taking time off work.
∞ ϟ 9¾
It was no surprise that Diagon Alley was crammed with people. Most consisted of families and students collecting their books and equipment. Even though it was early afternoon, people swarmed the narrow, winding streets. Alexander found it easier to navigate. He'd grown a couple of inches and could see over some of the shorter people, making it easier to push through several arms and elbows.
He told Albert to wait in the car and get himself some food as he'll probably be a while. He carried a bottomless backpack to bring his purchases, courtesy of his grandfather.
A bunch of potential first-years gazed at everything with their jaws dropped and their eyes widened. Alexander snickered quietly under his breath. Was it him or were the first years getting smaller each year? He couldn't recall him and his friends being that tiny – well, maybe Harry.
He waved to Dean and Seamus as he came out of Gringotts. Neville approached him with a weird-looking plant in his arms. This was nothing out of the ordinary, however.
"My plants are coming along well," grinned Neville proudly, motioning to the pot. "It's all I've been doing this summer – taking care of them. You should see the ones at home, Alex, in our greenhouse. I can't wait to tell Professor Sprout about it."
Alexander smiled warily, eying the plant and wondering if it bit. "Good for you, Neville. I'm, er, glad to hear that."
Neville eyed his arms in his blue, short-sleeve button-up. "Yeah. Woah, Alex. You've got a slight tan. Paris must have been hot."
"What? Oh, yeah, I guess I have. It wasn't that hot." He shrugged. "I just didn't realise I could tan so easily, I suppose."
Neville looked down glumly. "Wish I could go on holiday. Gran won't let me." He leaned in as if to whisper conspiratorially, his eyes shifting nervously. "Anyway, have you heard about the whole Azkaban thing? It's scary, right?"
Alexander frowned, not having a clue what Neville meant. "The what?"
Before Neville could answer, a tall, imposing shadow fell upon them. Neville yelped and turned red. Alexander hastily said his goodbyes and walked off. Neville's gran even made him nervous.
Still, he felt puzzled by Neville's comment. Azkaban was a heavily guarded prison, right? He hadn't read the Prophet yet and felt out of the loop. It was probably a Ministry business though – something he had no interest in.
Sugarplum's Sweet Shop caught his eye as he departed the Apothecary for his Potions' ingredients. He hesitated before entering. Don't blame him, the temptation was too strong. As no one was around to stop him, he treated himself to a tummy-ache-inducing assortment of sweets. He placed them in his backpack, knowing he'd have to keep them out of sight of Eliot's eyes. He dreaded the idea that Grandfather and Eliot would confiscate them.
He noticed that he still had plenty of money left for his school supplies. He then topped up on ink, quills and other instruments from Scribbulus. Madam Malkins was next. His uniform from last year shrunk on him and he needed new ones. Alexander smiled, gratified by the physical evidence that he was growing.
What wasn't a blessing, however, were the spots that appeared on his face. He couldn't help but feel self-conscious about the fact that everyone could see it. He looked as if everyone was laughing at him, so he avoided eye contact, keeping his face lowered.
Alexander walked inside, hearing the chiming of the bell above his head. A small boy stood on the stool, nervously eyeing the hovering measuring tape. He seemed small for his age and had light brown hair. Alexander believed him to be a first-year student.
The boy jumped at the sound of the bell and spun his head. Alexander recognised him. He was the boy from the Ministry party last year. What was his name? Sullivan, that was it! Helen's brother. His breath hitched. Hang on, did that mean –?
"Alex? Is that you?"
A heat settled low in his stomach as his blue eyes settled on Helen's familiar figure. She sat on a nearby chair, her legs crossed and a magazine rested on her lap, Witch Weekly by the looks of it. Her champagne blonde hair was straight and the freckles on her face scrunched up cutely. She was a picture of beauty, as always.
There was no sign of their parents or Madam Malkin. It conflicted Alexander, but he reckoned that at least he wouldn't make a giant fool of himself in front of her parents. They'll probably spot his crush from a mile away, and Alexander would rather face a thousand Aragogs than be in that situation.
He cleared his throat and smoothed out his button-up, which was tucked into his jeans, for any wrinkles. "Oh, er, hello, Helen. It's lovely to see you."
Helen smiled brightly, her eyes sparkling in delight as she squealed softly and jumped up to pull him into a hug. Her robes were soft and her hair wafted with an enticing floral scent. She was everything that is Helen. An embarrassingly dreamy sigh escaped his mouth.
She leaned back, her hands holding his arms in place. Alexander noticed how her eyes turned a softer caramel colour as the sun shone directly on them. Act normal, he willed inwardly. Don't be a creep or stare too long.
"Oh, it's so good to see you!" she cried out. "How have you been? Tell me everything. I want to know." She paused between her words, shyly tucking her hair back. "Oh, wow! You've grown taller."
Alexander did a double-take. She was right. He was a nudge taller than Helen; last year he reached up to her chin but now the top of her head came to his chin. Yet, Helen had grown too. Her face appeared sharper and her cheeks lost some childlike features.
His chest swelled with pleasure as he grinned at her, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. He's seen on TV that girls like messy hair. He thought little of it, thinking it was stupid, but it popped up in his mind just now.
"Yeah, I guess the summer air has to count for something," he shrugged, then teasingly said, "I'm taller than you now."
Helen rolled her eyes playfully. "Hey, by like a small amount. Don't get ahead of yourself."
Alexander cleared his throat again and moved on before he said something he'd regret. He has already looked longer than appropriate at her pouty lips, wondering how sweet they'd taste and whether they were similar to Esmée's.
"So, er, where are your parents?" he asked, taking a glance at her brother, who fiddled anxiously with his hands.
"They're just at Flourish and Blotts, bringing my brother's books while we buy his robes." She crossed her arms. "They trust me to look out for him now and when he gets to Hogwarts, you know. Oh, and Madam Malkin is in the back. You just missed her."
"I wouldn't know," he responded with a tiny smile, "being an only child and all."
Helen's eyes widened. "Merlin! Does it ever get boring?"
Alexander shrugged, looking at the ground as an uncomfortable feeling arose within him, causing his chest to feel tight. Unbidden memories of endless loneliness crept into his mind. "Sometimes, I suppose. . " He opted not to elaborate.
His gaze travelled around the room, hoping to change the subject. It settled on Helen's brother. The young boy gulped when he noticed Alexander's attention on him. Alexander walked over and reached out a hand.
"Hello, Sullivan," he greeted kindly. "I don't know if you remember, but I'm Alexander Laurent. We met at that party last year."
Sullivan stared like he'd forgotten to blink. "Y-you remember me?" he said in bewilderment.
Alexander furrowed his brows. "Um, 'course I do. Why wouldn't I?"
Sullivan shrugged but didn't answer. He seemed to close in on himself and his muscles were stiff.
Alexander tried to get him to relax and feel comfortable. "So. . ." he began, "do you know what house you're going to be in?" Sullivan shrugged bashfully. "Come on, what about Gryffindor?"
"Maybe Hufflepuff," Sullivan mumbled under his breath, so quiet that Alexander had to lean forward to hear properly.
Alexander grinned and nudged the boy gently on the shoulder. "Well, fingers crossed then. I'll clap if you do."
Sullivan looked up, and a tiny smile spread across his face. Helen stared curiously at the two of them, but before she could say anything Madam Malkin entered briskly. She had a pile of robes in her arms, which she dumped on a table.
"Right, Miss Fawley, that's you and your brother finished."
Sullivan stepped off the footstool. Helen snapped into a grateful mode and handed over a few galleons from her pink purse. She turned back to Alexander.
"I suppose that's it then," she remarked. "We have to meet our parents." There was a fair amount of disappointment on her face, but Alexander couldn't think of why. She hugged him for the last time, lingering a tad. "Promise you'll come and sit with Nia and me on the train?"
Alexander nodded. "Count on it." He bit the inside of his cheek. Count on it? He sounded like an idiot.
Helen giggled softly and then grabbed Sullivan's hand, though he didn't appear happy. A sense of desperation overcame Alexander. Now was his chance. He would not get it again. Go on.
"Wait!" he exclaimed. Helen stopped, her eyebrows raised to her temple. His cheeks flamed as he tried to get his tongue to work. "Um, do you, uh, maybe want to go for some tea and cakes afterwards? With me?" He clarified like a fool.
"Oh, Alex –" Helen blinked, her eyelashes fluttering. Amazement infused her tone.
"You could bring Sullivan as well," Alexander blurted out. "We'll all go together. It's no problem."
Initially, he had hoped that it would be just her and him, but maybe she felt weird about it. Alexander would hate to make her feel uncomfortable. Besides, he rather liked the young boy. He was polite if shy. He chewed on his bottom lip, his mind racing. Had he overstepped? Maybe this was a dumb idea. . .
"I'll have to ask my parents first, otherwise they'll be worried," admitted Helen before she smiled, "but I'd love to go. Thank you, Alex."
"Yeah. . .?" He exhaled in astonishment. Did she just agree?
"Yes." She laughed merrily. "I'll come and find you at the bookshop after we get Sullivan his wand."
As Helen left, Alexander watched with a sense of giddiness, the tinkling bell ringing in his ears as she looked over her shoulder at him. An excited smile spread across Sullivan's face as he waved with his free hand. Alexander wanted to punch his fist in the air but restrained himself.
And it was a good thing too, as Madam Malkin seemed to have seen and heard the whole encounter. But she was all poise and professional, her expression not revealing anything. She ushered him with a hand.
"Now then. Up that stool, if you please, Mr Laurent. There's a good lad."
Feeling foolish and the tips of his ears burning with embarrassment, he does so.
His next stop was his school books. With no one to hurry him, Alexander spent his time trailing his hands along the spines of the books and browsing carefully. Before he could even look at a book a harried-looking middle-aged man step in front of him. He reminded Alexander of the workers at Harrods during Christmas time.
"Hogwarts?" asked the man in an abrupt voice. "Come to get your new books?"
"Yes, Sir," answered Alexander with a short nod, keeping his confusion to himself.
The man's expression darkened as he drew on a pair of very thick gloves, picked up a large, knobbly walking stick, and proceeded toward the door of the Monster Books' cage. Alexander watched in awe as the man wrestled with the book for a few minutes and then offered it with a tightly-wrapped clasp around it. He quickly snatched and threw it into his backpack before it could snip his fingers. The growling echoed until it faded.
"Anything else I can help you with?" said the man tiredly, wiping a patch of sweat from his forehead.
Due to his independent streak, Alexander declined as he had it covered. He walked over to the Ancient Runes section. It was a small section, but he still felt fascinated by the options.
He picked up Spellman's Syllabary, the required reading on his list. Yet, he placed in his basket Ancient Runes Made Easy and Rune Dictionary. It was good to be prepared for a subject he had no idea about.
There came a light tap on his shoulder as he was flickering through a book. He swivelled around, snapping the book shut, to see Helen again. Her eyes crinkled up at the edges and she rocked back and forth with her hands fastened behind her back. Sullivan stood next to her.
"Alex, they've agreed! My parents," she beamed. "But only if I took Sullivan with me, though."
He felt a surge of joy. "That's brilliant!"
Helen nodded. "I know. My parents are in the Leaky Cauldron right now, so we have about an hour." She narrowed her eyes at the book in his hand. "We're not keeping you from your shopping, right?"
Alexander looked down at his basket and waved his hands. "What? Oh, no, no. No, I wouldn't have asked otherwise."
She smirked. "Just checking."
"Okay, let me just pay for this and we'll be right off."
Alexander paid for his books, and throwing his backpack on one shoulder, left the shop. The warm sunlight stroked the bare skin of their group as it bathed them in sunlight. Helen walked close to him and every so often his arm brushed against hers, sending tingles up and down his body.
To distract himself, he focused on Sullivan, who met his eyes. "So, what do you want to eat?" he asked kindly.
Sullivan blinked and then swallowed deeply. He shifted his eyes before speaking. "C-can I have chocolate cake?" His tone was hopeful.
It was hard not to say no to those eyes. Sullivan shared his sister's light brown ones.
"Sure you can," shrugged Alexander, chuckling. "Great choice, by the way."
Sullivan became bashful and stared at the ground. Helen laughed airily and grabbed his arm.
"Come on. I know a great place for chocolate cake," she said.
"You do?" Alexander raised his eyebrows.
She gently jabbed him on the shoulder. "Hey, what do you take me for? I know most shops around here, anyway." She paused. "Well, except Knockturn Alley, of course."
A sigh escaped from Sullivan. He scowled. "Yeah, mother and father won't let us go," he addressed Alexander.
Helen's tone turned a tad sharp. Her stare fixed on Sullivan. "And that's a good thing, too. It's a dodgy place, especially for young boys like you. People will try to hurt you, you know this."
"I guess. . ." mumbled Sullivan, his voice a tad sullen.
"I'd hope so."
Alexander cleared his throat, feeling slightly awkward at being in the middle, and pointed at the sign. "Is that it?" he questioned, gazing up. It was a snug little teashop that looked cosy.
"Yes, that's exactly it!" beamed Helen. Her voice quickened in excitement. "Rosa Lee Teabag. They sell all sorts of cakes and pastries. It hasn't changed. I've been going since I was a little girl with my parents." Her smile faded, not enough to be noticeable if Alexander wasn't paying attention. "Or, well, I used to in the past."
Alexander did not dwell on this. "It's kind of funny, that name." Helen threw a questioning glance. "You know, the Cockney rhyming slang of Rosa Lee for tea."
Helen's expression was blank. "Oh, I don't know what that means. I'm sorry. Is it a Muggle thing?"
Oh, that's right. She grew up in the Wizarding World. Alexander had forgotten that. He's been living in London all his life, which is why he could spot it.
"Never mind, come on. Let's grab a table. If your brother's stomach rumbles any louder, I'm afraid he'll be mistaken for an escaped dragon from Gringotts," he smirked, and Helen chimed in mirthful laughter.
"Hey, no fair," protested Sullivan with a deep pout.
As they walked into the shop, Alexander held the door open for Helen and her brother. She offered him a sweet smile. The shop was not busy compared to the Leaky Cauldron. On his way to Diagon Alley, the pub was crammed with people.
Alexander scanned the teashop. A fifth-year girl sipped by a nearby table while reading a magazine; an elderly man and woman – possibly a couple – shared a lemon cake, and a seventh-year boy wrote on a piece of parchment, his cup lying forgotten to the side. A worker scrubbed a table while a charmed cloth dusted the table opposite.
Alexander inhaled the delicious aroma of scents and instantly felt his stomach grumble rather loud. Helen snapped her neck to face him and then threw her head back in laughter. He looked away sheepishly. Sullivan appeared smug after Alexander's last comment.
A waiter approached them and ushered them to a four-seat table. Alexander's seat next to him lay empty. Sullivan ordered his chocolate cake. Helen, meanwhile, went for the scones with Jasmine tea. Alexander scanned the menu and eventually settled for cream rolls and a tea he'd never heard of before.
Helen offered to pay before they ordered, but he swiftly shut down her idea. After all, he was the one who suggested this idea, so he'll be the one to pay. Helen didn't look happy, but couldn't argue with his reasoning. Next time, however, she was paying. Alexander's heart exploded at the thought she mentioned a 'next time.'
But not that this was a date, he reminded himself. Sullivan was here, and it was merely two friends sharing a drink.
Their order came quite fast, to his surprise, and Alexander took a sip, careful not to burn himself as hot steam wafted off the cup. He quickly put it down and fought not to grimace. There was a smoky taste to it and something slightly bitter. He regretted picking it and wished he had chosen a simple Earl Grey.
Disguising his grimace, he fiddled with his hands as he racked his brain on what to say. Now that they were here, and he finally had Helen to himself, his mind went blank. He chewed the inside of his lip. There was mounting pressure for him to say something.
"Sooo. . ." he said like a simpleton.
She didn't find him dull, right? Wait, what if she did? Helen blew steam off her tea and didn't look like she did. He had to calm down or she'll know he was becoming too paranoid.
God, why was this so awkward? He's never struggled with conversation before. Sullivan couldn't help him, as he was too busy eating his cake. Suddenly, his knee accidentally brushed something soft under the table and he suspected it was Helen's leg.
Like being stabbed in the foot, Alexander jumped, smacking his knee against the underside of the table and jolting it. A dull ache bloomed, causing him to wince. The people glanced at them in surprise at the noise.
"Merlin, are you okay?" asked Helen worriedly.
"Yeah, yeah – ahem – I'm, er, fine – don't worry. It's nothing," he swallowed, rubbing his hand against the spot. He stared down at his full cup of liquid, feeling his cheeks heat. Great, now he's humiliated himself. Someone had a vendetta against him for sure.
"Ugh, Sully, eat properly, would you?" Helen frowned and grabbed a tissue to wipe the dark smear from his mouth. The boy protested and turned his head away. Helen sighed.
"It's a nice day, don't you think?" he blurted out, and as soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted it.
Helen peered up with a startled expression. Even Sullivan threw him an odd expression. Why was this so hard? He's had no issue talking with Hermione. He never ran out of things to say to her.
Helen placed her chin under her palm and turned thoughtful. "I suppose it is nice weather today. Probably the last for a while we're going to have, I'm guessing."
He took another sip and swallowed hard; the bitterness lingered as an aftertaste in the back of his throat. It was truly horrible. At least, the cream rolls made up for it.
"So, er, how's Nia doing?" he inquired, drooping back in his chair to give her his full attention. An endearing smile appeared on her face.
"Nia's great. I spoke to her recently on that strange device that the Muggles call a phone, I think." She shook her head as if in awe. "Honestly, whatever will these Muggles come up with next? But she mostly plays her guitar. I wish you would hear her play. She's so good, but she shies away from people hearing her play though. She's quite stubborn like that."
A pang echoed in his chest as he realised how much he has missed Nia. She was a soothing person to be around.
"That's understandable. I can sort of relate to that. It's difficult playing in front of people." He grimaced as he recalled how much he'd trembled as his instructor made him show his grandfather what he'd learnt. He was eight years old.
Helen tilted her head and leaned in more to the table. "You can? How's that?"
"I play the violin. My grandfather enrolled me in private lessons. I've been taking them since I was young. It's really daunting to play in front of people."
Helen became slack-jawed, and she clasped her hands together. "Oh, that's wonderful, Alex! The violin is such a beautiful instrument to play." She sighed woefully. "I dearly wish I could play something. But my hands aren't built for it." Her eyes shone with eagerness. "Will you play me something if you get the chance?"
He rubbed the back of his neck. "Er, I suppose I could play something. I warn you though, it won't be that good, so if you're, like, expecting Mozart or something, forget it."
"Great, I'll hold you to it."
Alexander shifted his focus to Sullivan, unable to maintain eye contact with Helen for too long. "Hey, so, Sullivan, are you looking forward to Hogwarts?" The young boy perked up and nodded, his cheeks puffed up with cake before he swallowed. "Good, you'll be fine, I'm sure. You're going to love it."
Sullivan inhaled sharply and twiddled with his fingers. "I just. . . what if I don't make any friends?" It was a quiet admission, as if he didn't mean to reveal it.
"You will," assured Alexander. "Other first-years feel the same way, especially those that come from Muggle families. Think of yourself as a guide."
Sullivan's face lit up. "I never thought of it like that. Thanks, Alex." His shoulders slumped as he stared with wide eyes. "Wait, I can call you that, right?"
Alexander smiled in amusement. "Sure you can. No problem."
"I like him. He's nice," declared Sullivan, turning toward his sister. "No wonder you mention him all the time."
Helen's lips parted, and her eyes expanded. Her cheeks flared as red as a cherry. "Sully!" she cried, then hissed, "I don't!"
Alexander looked on in bewilderment. He wondered what the young boy meant. Helen seemed embarrassed somehow, which was out of character for her. A beat of awkward silence remained. Alexander licked his lips and broke the quiet.
"So, Helen, how was your summer?"
She had trouble meeting his eyes for some reason. "It was cool. Eventful. I mostly stayed at home, but I got to visit St. Mungo."
"Yeah?"
She sat straighter in her chair as her voice became more confident and avid. "Yeah, it was truly eye-opening into the life of a Healer, and it just made me want to work there someday in the future. I think I'm going to do an internship there after Hogwarts. I'll get Madam Pomfrey to recommend me."
"Well, if anyone's going to get it, it'll be you."
Alexander didn't know what else to say. He felt shocked that she thought that far ahead. He hasn't even considered what he wanted to be or do in the future.
"Thanks, Alex. So, what about you? How was your summer?" she asked in return.
Alexander shifted in his seat and drummed his knee up and down. "Oh, er, it was good. . ."
His lack of a response confused Helen, but he does nothing to clear it up. His statement was vague, not mentioning his mother's journal or how strange it had felt to be around his grandfather all summer while thinking about the horrible things he did. It was something personal that he didn't want to share. He's never been good at telling people how he truly felt, anyway. And perhaps he shouldn't mention Esmée as well. It wouldn't be a good idea.
"Right, well. . ." She jerked as if remembering something. "Oh, also, Alexander, now that you're here, do you think Harry Potter's going to be expelled? You must have heard something from him. He's your friend, yes?"
Alexander's head snapped up, and he blinked several times. "Expelled? What do you mean?"
"Haven't you heard? Everyone's saying he's blown up his aunt, apparently." His expression induced her to continue. "I only know this because my parents work for the Ministry and they told me. I thought you knew?" She frowned, her face mystified.
"No, I don't," he replied in a hard voice.
Harry hadn't told him anything. And now he finds out that he was going to be expelled? Like this? What the hell? So, Grandfather must have known about this and hadn't told him. Or is that why he wanted to talk to him later on today? Because one of his best friends was going to be expelled.
"Alex? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
His feet tapped up and down and his fists clenched on the table. An image of Harry living on the streets flashed in his mind, his trunk used as a pillow as Harry shivered in his ragged clothes. Alexander clenched his jaw, missing Helen's sentence. He had half a mind to go to Surrey, where the Dursleys lived.
Why didn't Harry come to him? He would have taken his friend in if he knew – his holiday be dammed. His friends were important to him.
"Hey, I'm sure your friend will be alright," soothed Helen. "Potter will be okay."
Alexander nodded mindlessly, pressing his lips together in a tight line. He knew she was trying her best, but her words didn't exactly comfort him.
Sullivan looked confused but said nothing. He tugged on Helen's sleeve and pointed to the clock in the teashop.
"Oh, right, yes –Alex, we should head back," she informed, peeking at her watch.
Alexander inhaled deeply, shaking off his devouring thoughts, and stood up. "I'll walk you guys back."
Helen softly smiled. "You don't have to. I don't want us to keep you."
"You won't, I promise."
They walk back together. His arm brushed up against Helen's again, and this time, he didn't remove it. He peeked at her side profile. She either hadn't noticed or didn't mind it. He hoped it was the latter.
"So," began Helen, "that was nice. Did you enjoy it?"
While still distracted with worry for his friend, Alex smiled at her genuinely. "I did, yes. I will remember it." Helen fiddled with a strand of her golden hair, her eyes fixed on the ground as a smile graced her lips. Alexander turned to ask Sullivan playfully. "And what about you, Sullivan?"
The boy grinned up at him. "Best chocolate cake ever!"
Alexander laughed. Sullivan had certainly come out of his shell. He appeared more relaxed than before. Maybe it was the sugar.
As they walked through the crowds, a shock of flame-red hair caught Alexander's eye. He spun on his heels swiftly and craned his neck, hoping he wasn't imagining it. And he wasn't.
In front of the Magical Menagerie, Harry and Ron stood, their faces flushed and disgruntled. Hermione – his chest leaping from how much he missed the sight of her familiar beam – stood near them and held an orange cat in her arms.
A gasp came from Sullivan. "Hel, look, it's Harry Potter," he gaped in a look of wonder. "Oh, do you think we can meet him?"
"Hush, Sully," said Helen, frowning, "it's rude to gawk. Alex? Where are you going?"
"I'll just be a minute," he muttered over his shoulder. The other two trailed behind him, standing a few steps back.
"Alex! You're here!" Hermione was the first to spot him. He couldn't help the smile that snuck on his face.
"Alex mate! Great to see you," grinned Ron and stepped forward to smack him on the shoulder in greeting.
It looked as if Hermione was going to leap into his arms until her eyes settled behind him. An unreadable expression came over her face.
"No! Get away, you stupid ball of fur!" yelled Ron, gripping hold of his rat tightly, who was trembling like mad after climbing out of his fist.
"Crookshanks, no!" Hermione became distracted as she attempted to stop the cat from jumping out of her arms.
Ron placed his rat inside his pocket, hidden from sight. He glared at the cat, which purred gently in Hermione's arms.
"I don't think that cat likes that rat," whispered Sullivan, though his voice was loud enough to carry toward them.
Ron scowled deeper. He turned to Alexander. "So, Alex, mate. When did you get back from Paris?"
"Yesterday," answered Alexander distractedly, as he fixed on Harry, who met his eyes and looked away.
Harry then stared at Helen, confusedly. She had an eyebrow raised at all the commotion. Ron and Hermione's bickering was a staple constant in their dynamic. He and Harry expected it, but for others, it might look odd. Ron looked to where Harry was staring and his eyes widened.
"No way, is that – ?" Ron breathed in a tone of amazement.
"Oh, yeah – " Alexander gestured with his hand as Helen stepped next to him " – um, this is Helen – my friend, by the way – and that's her little brother, Sullivan. He's going to be a first year. Helen, this is Hermione, Ron and Harry."
Helen waved politely and smiled. Sullivan had become nervous in front of the older students and shifted a tad behind Helen. To gain his attention, she touched his upper arm and pointed forward, which reminded him.
"I'll be right back, so don't go anyway," he demanded. "I'll just be a second."
"Okay, see you soon, mate."
Helen's parents stood outside the Leaky Cauldon, chatting with a tall wizard. They appeared serious and their features were stiff. They looked up when the three approached them.
"Ah, there you are," said Mrs Fawley, with a curt nod. "Right on time too."
"Hello, sir, madam," Alexander greeted politely as he did with all adults. He snapped into a smart posture, straightening up and clasping his hands behind his back as he maintained eye contact. "I wanted to thank you for letting them come. I appreciate it very much."
Mrs Fawley blinked owlishly at him. "Yes, well, it was no trouble. I must say, young man, your manners are impressive. What is your name?"
"Alexander Laurent."
Mr Fawley put away his pocket watch and reached out to shake his hand, his grip firm. "Related to Antoine Laurent, the Diplomat, by any chance? A truly remarkable man."
Alexander's facial muscles twitched. "Yes, sir. My grandfather."
"Splendid! I thought so." Mr Fawley eyed him approvingly. "Well, it seems like you inherited his charm and manners, too. A good thing I say. Most children today are rather too unruly, in my opinion."
"Father, please." Helen's eyes darted to the side, her expression one of embarrassment.
Alexander merely nodded, his fake smile becoming harder to sustain. He prayed Mr Fawley didn't go into further discussion about Grandfather. He checked his wristwatch.
"I should head back. Mr and Mrs Fawley, it was a pleasure meeting you. Helen, I'll see you and Nia on the train."
Helen stepped forward for a last embrace and a kiss on the cheek. "See you."
To his mortification, he was aware of the press of her breasts against his chest. He gulped slowly, as it was all he could focus on. His breathing became heavy and his palms sweaty as he patted her back with one hand. She pulled back, and he knew his face glowed crimson.
To make this all worse, her parents were still there. If Alexander had expected yelling, he didn't receive it. They didn't seem too bothered and merely tilted their head in curiosity at him.
As Alexander turned his back, he noticed Sullivan scrunch his face as his mother lifted his hand.
23rd September 1976
If there's one thing I hate about Hogwarts – and don't get me wrong, I love the school – it's that it doesn't allow muggle technology. If they did then I'd be allowed to bring my camera with me.
Yaz has my eternal thanks for introducing me to it. I'm forever in her debt. Most muggle things are really remarkable when you think about them. They've come so far without magic.
Most of the pictures in my camera don't move but I suppose that's how I prefer it. It's like I can take everything in – like a memory caught in time. Rather magical in itself.
My father, however – surprise, surprise – hates them. So, I have to keep my camera secret from him. Merlin knows the scene that will commence if he finds out. Though, I think he suspects me of it.
Speaking of Hogwarts, no one told me how tiring the fifth year could be. It just seems to be a never-ending pile of homework. And Minne's being particularly harsh on us all, something about taking OWLs seriously and that thing. She's been saying that since the first year to be fair.
I got the name for the Professor from Black, by the way. I thought it was utter genius. Course, Minnie didn't think so and now we're all in detention until December probably. Whatever – that wasn't anything new. Detention has come to be my middle name.
I'm also stressed because our Quidditch match against Hufflepuff is coming up shortly. I passed tryouts – just like I knew I would – and our Captain has us practising morning till evening. Listen, I like Quidditch as much as the next girl, but I also have other things in my life.
But I suppose, if it gets us the House Cup, you won't see me complaining again. Especially when I wipe the smug grins off Potter and Black's faces. I swear, they were insufferable last year and took every chance to show it in my face. If I hadn't caught that bludger to the face, then Ravenclaw would have won. It did hurt and sometimes I can feel the dull ache on my nose as a memory.
So, yeah, it wasn't pleasant.
In order news, Father dearest wants me home for Christmas. He has another thing coming. Since when did I listen to his instructions. Yeah, that wasn't happening. And I can already hear the booming of the howler ringing in my ears right now. It's really starting to become an inconvenience to my life.
Hey, guys. Hope you're all well. Also, I would like to wish anyone celebrating right now an Eid Mubarak.
I had to get this update before I had guests come over. I hope it's alright as I wasn't too confident with it. Anywho, see you again for the next update.
