Hello! Sorry it's an even shorter chapter than the usual chapters already are, and I'm sorry I haven't been able to work on this story lately. I have a million and one projects going, stuff going on with my publishing company, and steep and heavy life stuff constantly kicking me in the teeth. I am gonna finish this story, I just can't commit to 'when' I will. Lol. My apologies... and thanks for sticking around.
Throughout the holiday at the carnival—Alice and Zander had a blast.
The second day, they ran into a large crowd waving them over from the cotton candy stand—and it turned out to be their friends, Tobias, James, Lorcan, and Rose, and Albus and Scorpius were tailing along behind them. Their parents had dropped them off at the carnival for the day—so, Alice beamed and decided to lead them all across her father's stomping grounds, showing them the sights and dragging them onto all the rides she could.
This continued for a few days, until the Potters and Weasleys decided to leave Ireland and head home for the rest of the holiday. Shortly after they left, Alice and Samuel took turns buying fun carnival items for Zander and bewitching them in clever ways, giving them to him for his birthday.
The week carried on with levity and peace—and, thankfully enough, Malachi never made a return visit to the O'Heiden Carnival.
When the holiday was over—Samuel and Roman helped Alice and Zander to pack their belongings into one of Samuel's bewitched and bigger-on-the-inside bags, allowing them to take all their Christmas gift back to Hogwarts. They took the portkey back to London, flew over the city with a perception spell cast over them, and came to a smooth stop in the front most courtyard of Hogwarts, the castle standing welcomingly where it always had.
Samuel and Alice shared a long, loving hug, smothering one another and wanting not to let go.
Roman stood by his broom, Zander lingering a few yards away and waiting for Alice.
Samuel was in the center of the courtyard with his daughter in his arms, sighing deeply and gently stroking along her hairs before finally stepping back, grasping her shoulders.
"Lookit me," Samuel said, cracking his signature smirk as his eyes shone with pride. "You're kickin' arse at the games, and you're takin' nothing from dark wizards… so you just keep on making me proud, and you keep yourself in one piece until you come back home."
"Aye," Alice nodded, wiping a tear from her eye. "I love you…"
"Love you too." Samuel planted a kiss on her forehead, then marched backward. "You go on now, kiddo. I'll seeya again soon."
Alice smiled and waved at him, feeling a festering sadness at giving her father another farewell, but she grinned regardless and moved slowly back, joining Zander as the two of them started toward the castle.
Samuel stood rooted to the spot, watching until his daughter was no longer in sight and wearing a soft, distant visage.
Roman glanced over at him, then at the castle, looking curious. "Y'think they ever found that room, Sam…?"
Samuel continued gazing into Hogwarts, scoffing out the faintest hint of a laugh.
"Aye," he exhaled. "I know they did."
At that, he finally turned away, mounting his broom and flying off with Roman by his side.
As they did—Alice and Zander strolled down the open corridor, field to their left, castle walls and entryways to the right.
For a few minutes, they said nothing—though Zander stole a few glimpses of her, watching as she wandered forward with her head down, messy ginger bangs tenting over her sad, watery eyes, wearing a glum expression and remaining silent.
"You're going back, y'know," Zander said a bit too callously, though he wasn't sure how to comfort her. "You live there. Don't be so sad. We're just coming back to school is all."
"I know that, you git," Alice griped with a choking sob of a laugh, shaking her head and wiping her eyes again. "It just makes me sad when I have to leave my dad. It's not real sadness… it's just… just moment sadness."
Zander stared blankly at her while they walked. "Moment sadness…?"
"Aye… just… just a tiny piece sadness you get from a sad moment," Alice explained with smooth simplicity, smiling at him. "It goes away fast because it's not real sadness."
Zander made a loose sideways nod. "Okay. Fair enough…"
They marched in silence for a moment.
Then, Alice made a coy smirk, gingerly nudging against his arm. "And you're seventeen now. You're an adult now. How's it feel?"
Zander perked his brow, merely shrugging. "No different."
"Ha… I knew you'd say that."
"I am old enough for the Triwizard Tournament now, though."
There was another pause, this one thicker with a new hint of tension.
Alice frowned down at her feet, sighing deeply and glancing over at him.
Zander turned and spotted her expression, then spoke on. "I'm just saying… if we decide on me entering it, then I can. That's all."
"I'll be seventeen by then, too," Alice reminded him. "My birthday's in June. The tournament won't start until after my birthday."
"Right…"
They went quiet once more, making a right turn and venturing down an enclosed corridor, absentmindedly following the route to the great hall.
Then—Alice slowed to a stop, gazing downward as her mind worked up a storm.
Zander halted and spun around to face her.
They stared at one another.
Alice then sighed, taking a step closer and giving him a look of finality.
"Oy—look here," she said. "I think we can both just enter. Okay?"
Zander narrowed his eyes at her.
"If one of us gets in, then the other one will help 'em with the tournament as much as possible—and if one of us wins, then we can share the money after," Alice explained. "We'll be doing all of this together no matter which one of us actually gets in—and I think we both have a pretty good chance of getting picked, since we're a master duelist and a master flyer, and Xyler's apparently marked us as special talents. Right?"
Zander continued to stare, saying nothing.
Alice read him, searching his eyes and feeling his insistent hesitance practically radiating off him. So, she let out a deep sigh, frowning and giving his sleeve a gentle tug.
"What's wrong?" she asked. "I think this is a pretty good plan, here. Why do you still seem like… like you just don't want to?"
"I do want to," Zander mumbled softly, gazing into her with a mixture of intensity and chagrin. "I just don't…"
He trailed off, gnawing his lip and glaring down at the floor, hand curling into a fist by his side.
In reality—he knew exactly what he wanted to say, as he felt it down to the deepest reaches of him—but he couldn't say such a thing to her, especially not now.
He wanted to say the same thing he tried to convey to her before the holiday—that he didn't want her to enter the Triwizard Tournament.
But Alice seemed to share his passion, a fiery insistence on becoming better and stronger, and attaining her goals herself—and if anyone knew how this felt, he did. He couldn't rightfully rob her of that—and besides, if he voiced his feelings truthfully, she might begin to think that he simply didn't believe in her.
Then—a light powered on in his mind.
Zander stared into her—and suddenly, he thought of something he hadn't before.
His capabilities were top-notch, and he was a dueling prodigy. His chances of being selected by the Goblet of Fire were decent—and they might be even greater than hers.
So—perhaps they could both enter their names into the Goblet of Fire.
And—perhaps it wouldn't matter if they did, because his chances of being selected were fantastic, to say the least.
Maybe, and hopefully, he could simply abide by her wishes now and come to this agreement—and he still be picked to do the tournament for her later on.
So, Zander let out a conclusive cloud of breath, nodding and meeting her eyes again.
"Okay," he finally agreed. "We'll both put our names in the Goblet of Fire."
Alice grinned, pulling him into a quick hug and patting him once on the back. Then, she meandered down the corridor again, Zander giving her a profound look from behind before following suit.
When they emerged in the great hall—there were a few scattered gangs of returned Hogwarts students huddled into groups in various spots across the four tables. Tobias, Lorcan, James, and Rose were all hunched together at the edge of the Gryffindor table, chattering and appearing to be trading a copy of the Daily Prophet back and forth.
Alice and Zander approached them, sitting with Tobias and staring at the others across the table.
James was holding the newspaper upright and reading it rather intently—which was an unusual sight, as he usually didn't care much for any kind of reading—and Lorcan and Rose were hovering over either of his shoulders, reading it along with him.
"Oy," Alice called, patting the table and snapping her fingers at them. "Oooy—hey—we're back now. Hello?"
The three of them continued scanning over the paper for a moment. Then, James lowered it, staring at Alice and Zander with an uncharacteristically serious expression.
"You didn't hear?" James asked, turning the paper around and holding it up again, revealing its contents to Alice and Zander. "Look. The Shadow Hand were spotted in America, in the mountains somewhere."
Alice and Zander both leaned forward, eyeing the paper closely.
The main story was captioned with the headline: SHADOW HAND SPOTTED, NUMBERS ARE ALARMING.
Below this headline was a moving picture, one that showed an absolute ocean of people standing down a mountainside, many of them in cloaks, a few with light shining from the ends of their wands, and some with odd and interesting garbs on, headdresses, pelts, and even carrying magical staffs or weapons rather than wands, as the crowd contained wizards from various other countries and cultures.
Alice and Zander's mouths both drifted agape, losing themselves in the shocking picture and scanning over the hundreds of varying people in this endless, expansive crowd.
"Yeah." James slapped the paper down and nodded. "I know. Crazy."
"I can't believe he has so many followers," Rose breathed, grimacing and swiping a loose hair from her face.
"Neither can the Ministry," Lorcan mumbled grimly. "They knew he was gathering people from all over the world, but… they didn't know how many…"
"They still don't, honestly," James figured. "These are just the ones who showed up for this little get-together in America. God knows how many more there actually are out there."
"Vell… it… at least they're all very far away from us," Tobias uttered, seeming to seek out any sort of positive outlook on the situation.
"Not for long," Zander murmured gravely, his eyes shifting between them all. "We're all gonna be in American next year."
A dark, unsettling silence fell over them, all of them trading perturbed visages with one another.
And as they did—Arius sat at his spot in the center of the teacher's table, leaning back in his chair with one leg propped atop the other, his fingers gently fidgeting with the top of his cane as his eyes remained fixed on the copy of the Daily Prophet on the Gryffindor table, wearing a distant, stony visage that didn't suit him at all.