A/N: This chapter is basically a collection of Interludes and flashbacks on secondary characters that would hopefully flesh out part of their past. Next chapter would jump right into the present and into the heat of things! It's mostly planned out and will be quite long.

Cynthia stood before Thomas' apartment. It was a Sunday morning. She had hesitated to approach his place at first — or to agree to go to brunch with the guy, but she decided that after all this time, she needed to learn how to forgive. It would be difficult, but she had to try.

He seemed genuinely repentant that he had neglected to maintain his bonds with his old teammates. It was his way of coping, he had confessed. It wasn't pleasant. "I'm so, so, so sorry, Cynthia," he had said, "I should have been there for you— if not as a lover, then at least as a friend." She had bitten her lip, folded her arms and frowned at him then and called him a cunt, much to the horror and dismay of Neil, who had advised her to make amends with Thomas after she revealed part of her past with the guy. Neil had seemed rather unsurprised, possibly tipped off in advance. She thought she saw him give Thomas a wink.

It had been a difficult past few years but her life was finally getting back on track. Her therapist — her Mind Healer— had noted that she was making good progress and although the memory of Belfast would take a long time to recover — (Store it away, the screens and shouts… store it away) — her relapse into a stable career had been a boon.

"Sorry… Cynthia… Sorry…" Thomas rushed out of the door in a long coat. "Just woke up! Merlin's beard! I—"

"You're late," Cynthia said with a grin. She sounded amused but forgiving.

"I'll pay for today as compensation — I— I'm sorry — I—"

"It's okay Tom." She gave him a punch.

~X~

Grasping at straws, Neil Nott could not comprehend the words of those before him. Such was the price of inebriation. Then again, they were inebriated too. It had been a while since they last got together and drunk their hearts out. Hurling his arms around Neil, Sam murmured, "Remember Suzy?"

How could he not? "Bah," he waved his hand. "What about her?"

~X~

She was so scruffy and dirty. It was her first time owning a wand and a pair of robes. It was her first time owning anything, really. She grew up destitute in the streets, pickpocketing off strangers and scrounging off left-over food, relying on the pity and stupidity of others.

None of the other First Year Slytherins wanted anything to do with her and she always sat alone in the Common Room and Great Hall. Within weeks, there were rumors that she stole other people's pens, books and class notes. Whether they true or not, Neil couldn't personally verify, but he originally stayed away from her. It was his first year at Hogwarts too and he wanted to establish a good social circle, avoid troublesome people and, at times, be invited to his Seventh Year brother's social gatherings to impress his peers. Suzy Brown, meanwhile, was ostracized by practically everyone, including all the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and — even the Hufflepuffs.

He had become good friends with Arthur, Martin and Sam and life was progressing smoothly. He was average in most classes but thrived in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration and, in particular, Flying. It was impossible for First Years to join any Quidditch Team, really, not since Harry Potter and they made it clear that it was very, very specific example — but Neil really did want to try out for the team next year, as Seeker too. Life was settling into a predictable but pleasant rhythm; Lawrence was still being the condescending but affectionate big brother he was and Neil enjoyed being away from the mildly suffocating restrictions of his old family home, where his doting parents and imperious great-great-great- grandmother sought to control everything. (Small wonder Lawrence had adopted wanton pot-smoking and partying in rebellion. Neil knew what his brother was up to yet rarely exposed the guy. In a way he was sympathetic.)

And then old Slughorn had to compel everyone to switch Potions partners after Christmas. Neil was parried with — yes, none other than — Suzy Brown. It made him furious. He was perfectly fine working with Arthur, who was a little bit slow but nonetheless steady and reliable. Now he had to be with this— this girl who barely knew anything, almost blew up her cauldron and whose only known talent, or so it would appear, is stealing things. It was rumored that she stole from Marigold Wilson when they stayed over at Winter Break— well, it was proven really. Marigold had her doubters but eventually Suzy relented and handed the girl back her golden necklace.

"Hi," he had murmured unenthusiastically as she grabbed a chair beside him. She gave a terse smile. Merlin's beard, this was going to be awkward.

He wanted to throw in some snarky words about how she should avoid trying to blow up his cauldron and all but decided against it. He didn't want to antagonize her because he didn't want any of his valuables stolen. Instead, he stared at her curiously before uttering, "I can cut up the flobberworms and do most of the brewing. Just read the instructions to me."

"Okay," she said, reaching out for her Potions textbook, before frowning. She was struggling to read, it seemed.

"You've… never had a formal education before, right?" Neil ventured. That seemed like a probably supposition.

"Yes… yes… but I'm not stupid. I know how to read, you know. Maybe not complex sentences, but a simple Potions Textbook?" She looked insulted.

"Sorry," Neil added. "That's not what I implied." Even though that was a lie.

"Fine," Suzy huffed. "Well, follow-up! Step one: chop…"

~X~

"— I was not in love with her!'

"Oh but she was in love with you!"

"Bullshit."

"She's always been."

"Nonsense!"

~X~

"Heard Paisley got into a nasty accident," Suzy told him one Potion's class in the middle of February. "They say he won't recover in time for the next game."

"Yes, everyone's talking about it," Neil replied as he stirred the cauldron clockwise and then counter-clockwise.

They had reached an amicable relationship, alliance —rather. Neil would do most of the work while Suzy read to him the instructions. It worked. It saved both of them time and not having to reach for the pages every five seconds was an improvement. He wasn't exactly stellar but they normally received passing grades. This was satisfying enough for both him and her. In retrospect, a lot of his fears were unfounded. Sure Suzy wasn't the most talented Potioneer, but neither was Neil nor any of his friends, ironically, and the arrangement worked just fine. He was careful, however, not to get too close with her.

"Have you ever thought about substituting for Paisley?" She wondered curiously, folding her arms after she handed him the next batch of ingredients.

Neil sighed, "That's wishful thinking. There's plenty of others who are better; there's got to be. Besides, First Years don't get to play Inter-House Quidditch…"

"Harry Potter did."

"Most First Years don't get to play Inter-House Quidditch," Neil snapped — unexpectedly — correcting himself. "Sorry, I didn't mean it that way."

"You're very good. Better than our Seeker, I think. I've seen you play," Suzy declared, rather complimentarily.

"I'm okay…"

"Why not? You'll never know if you never go for it!"

"I…" Neil wanted to make some wry comment but couldn't really come up with any. He couldn't deny the fact that he did desire to play as Seeker. He loved Quidditch. He was good with flying. Indeed, why not? Why not him?

Their potions was bubbling and its texture was finally thinning. He had done something right.

"Well… looks good!" Suzy observed, seeming pleased. Potions was the one lesson where she received passing grades, mostly because she let him do most of the work.

To be honest, Neil was surprised. She wasn't stupid. She was quick with her feet (and, yes, good at nicking stuff), but he was sure she wouldn't flunk her classes so badly if she had at least tried. But she seemed thoroughly disinterested. Everything about school turned her off; it was so unlike the streets grew up in. Here she was like a fish out of water. "I had help."

"Do you… need more help?"

~X~

"Okay, okay but did she help you get on the Quidditch Team that year?"

"Well…"

"Did she jinx Paisley's broom?"

"Her? Nah. You're joking right?"

"So what did she do?"

"That Snitch from the Quidditch inventory? She stole it."

"Of course. And there you were that flying lesson, chasing after it in front of us all—"

"I didn't know at first, it was just flying around and disrupting everything!"

"Right… right." Arthur slung his arm around Neil, who rolls his eyes. An affectionate pattern. "Douglas was so impressed he begged you to join the team. Even got permission from Slughorn, then the Headmistress. It was quite the lobbying effort. I suppose no one else wanting that position helped too."

~X~

Third Year. In the Common Rooms. Party and pandemonium.

Neil was being hoisted up into the air as everyone else around him cheered. He had caught the Snitch earlier in the day, which ended up winning the Quidditch cup for his house. Everyone was partying till delirium. He was sure it was the first time some of his friends had ever tried alcohol.

Martin— who had become Chaser this year — gave him a fist bump after they finally allowed him back onto the ground. Tara tried to kiss him for some reason, but this only weirded him out. (Girls were weird and icky.) Arthur made some joke about spitting fire from firewhisky which only Arthur found funny and proceeded to make up a limerick about Neil's valiant efforts in braving the storms and catching the Snitch. Much to Neil's dismay, everyone eventually joined in.

In the corner, Suzy sat alone. She always did. She gave Neil a weak smile as he rushed to join her, away from the rambunctious crowd, who were now playing some kissing game. "Enjoying yourself?"

"I'm alright. Kind of tired." Neil stretched out his legs as he sat beside her.

"Not interested in the adoring crowd?"

"Not at the moment."

"Strange," she gave him a smile. A rare one. She always seemed so unhappy.

"Why don't you join in? Look— they're — okay, ew, yeah. All that kissing. I can see why."

Suzy laughed beside him, then quietened. "Don't pretend you don't know why," she muttered.

"What?"

"They all hate me," she uttered, "Don't pretend you don't know."

"No they don't," Neil tried to reassure her, "I don't hate the rest of them— they don't either. They don't understand you."

"Please," Suzy mused cynically, "I know. I've heard the whispers. Don't try to make me feel better…"

"I… That's not true. People may say mean stuff but they don't always mean what they say. If only— if only they actually got to know you," Neil explained, mildly frustrated, "They'd know you're okay."

"I'm already okay," Suzy said, "I'm okay without having many friends. My time in the streets, it taught me that most people who call you 'friend' are just disingenuous liars anyway. Quality over quantity. But I'm okay. You're a real friend." She smiled.

He smiled back at her.

~X~

"So, were you and Suzy ever a thing?"

"I told you guys before, no. We were friends, that's all."

"Right. Friends." A sarcastic retort.

"You were pretty distressed after she was expelled middle of Fifth Year. No one else was."

"That's because — I felt bad for her! She had nowhere else to go!"

"…"

"Seriously! I mean, that still doesn't excuse her stealing, but still—"

"She tried to steal the Sorting Hat," Sam noted, "And almost succeeded."

"She did succeed."

"And she sold it to some dodgy French gangster," Arthur added. "Well, tried to."

"And succeeded."

"Until the Aurors caught her."

"Well, yes, that's how she got arrested."

"I…" Neil frowned. It had been a long time since he last seriously dwelt on the memory of Suzy. "Never mind that. Let bygones be bygones."

"Ah yes, who could forget."

"It's not completely her fault—"

"There you go, defending here again. She cost you your spot at Puddlemore too, you know. I mean, you know it, but you're always so intent on defending her."

~X~

Sixth Year. Hogsmeade.

Neil Nott downed another butterbear as his friends around his chattered about the latest news on Quidditch recruitment. Reportedly, it was about time Puddlemore United would send out scouts around Hogwarts to select the few lucky elite Quidditch players they would eventually admit. Obviously, he wanted that spot. There was some competition, however, both in his team and in the teams of other houses. But he knew he was good enough to make it, bar any outstanding circumstances.

Groaning from the headache — alcohol and staying up late for your latest Potions paper will do that to you — Neil stretched his arms and pondered at the scene before him. His friends were such muppets and misfits, in a good kind of way. And almost all of them he had made through Quidditch-related shenanigans. There was an interesting divide in his house, between those who played Quidditch or reported on it and those who didn't. It held even back in his brothers' day. Although Lawrence, unlike him, was decidedly in the latter camp.

The scene before him all seemed so carefree, but Neil was no idiot. He heard the rumors. The potential resurgence of a Dark Lord. Mum and Dad were reticent to speak of it, but they all knew. They were fortifying defense and concealment charms around their safe-house in Mallorca. Briefly, Neil wondered if any of his mates had been contacted as well. Searching signs for tacit acknowledgement was futile at present, however, given that everyone was piss drunk

A hooded figure sat in the corner of the bar and seemingly gestured towards him. Neil pretended to not notice it. He knew what it was. The Sons of Walpurgis were recruiting; they wanted to get to him. Of course, he had no interest in them and their silly, idiotic ideas— not to mention any association was bound to doom any Quidditch career he desired.

Perhaps it was indeed a good thing that Suzy left Hogwarts before. Being a muggleborn witch from a lowly background, she would have been prime target of any of their potential schemes. Then again, Suzy was always adept at surviving.

"Thinking about Suzy again?"

Was it that obvious?

"Shut up Arthur," Neil muttered.

"You have that — I'm feeling grim and I'm probably thinking about a certain girl kind-of face—"

"Please Arthur, not now…" He moaned.

~X~

"Remember the deal with the Sons of Walpurgis?"

"How could I forget?" Martin slurred as he responded to Arthur's question. "It was literally the most terrifying episode of our lives, dude. They were onto us."

Neil grimaced, recounting their repeated advances towards him. "They tried to recruit me," he simply said.

"They tried to recruit all of us!" Sam complained. "Well, maybe not Arthur, cuz he's— you know— but it was nerve-wrecking. I was almost running out of excuses. I—"

"How many do you reckon actually joined them?" Martin pondered. "I mean, we know Walter eventually did because he was for some reason a true-believer and Janus joined because he got too scared, but that's it from all I know."

"There was Albert and Jemima," Neil explained, "But they were from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw so we wouldn't have known. I only found out after spending some time looking through the Auror records. Trainee stuff,"

"Merlin's beard — Albert?! Albert?! Albert Rowles? You never told us about him Neil," Martin looked positively morbidly shocked. "He seemed so nice and harmless."

"Yeah, doesn't this set some record about the first, well, Dark Wizard Hufflepuff produced?"

"There were instances in the past. Medieval times. Pretty rare though."

"His heart wasn't in it," Neil said, "Heard that he was an emotional wreck because of it. Didn't believe in the cause either."

"Then why did he join?"

"Who knows? Maybe family pressure got to him," Neil theorized. "Or stupid, brain-dead loyalty."

"It never got to you?" Arthur inquired.

"Obviously not! Otherwise I wouldn't be standing here— well sitting here — with you guys!" Neil retorted defensively.

That didn't mean the Sons of Walpurgis didn't try, however.

~X~

"Fancy seeing you here, Vacilius," Neil said, pulling back his hood as he ordered another drink.

He tried to keep calm at the scene before him. Having just been an Auror trainee, this sight rung the words 'danger.' (This crowd didn't like the Aurors very much.) He was also doubly at risk though, both from the people in front of him and from his own department should they discover this episode.

"I need an answer, cousin," Vacilius noted gruffly, "You've been giving me 'maybes' or 'perhaps' for months. The Dark Lord wants to know if you are on our side."

Neil bit his lip. He needed to proceed carefully. "Of course, I'm still considering in a way, but— but know that my sympathies lie with you—"

"An answer, Neil." There was very little patience left in the man in front of him.

"This is not a decision I can make on my own—"

"So permission from your parents then?"

"And Lawrence— he has a teaching career now. If they find out that his brother—"

"LIAR!" Vacilius banged on the table.

On the other side, Neil slid his hand into his pocket, reaching for his wand.

"Crucio!"

"Reducto!"

Their spells collided. Mayhem broke out in the bar.

"Blood traitors! Your side of them family— all of you lot!" Vacilius cursed while throwing another hex at him, which Neil blocked with Shield Charm. "I'll do the Dark Lord a favor and take you lot out!"

"Fracturus!"

"Bombarda!"

"Avada—"

"EXPELLIARMUS!"

A spell from the other side of the room disarmed his cousin. Relieved, Neil turned to see three Aurors. They were Albus Potter, Septimus Thunberg and Thomas MacLaggen. He couldn't recall who shot the spell. Perhaps he wasn't the only member of his organization to frequent shady bars.

Frowning, Vacillius called out to those around him. "Fools! Don't just stand there! Do something!"

Neil's heart sunk. They were surrounded and outnumbered 8 to 1. He had — if implicitly — made his choice. His cousin was a stubborn guy: you were either with or against him. And the years haven't exactly been a boon to the guy's sanity.

A quick succession of spells knocked out a few beside him as he rushed to join his other three colleagues.

"Really Potter, how do you know which ones we needed to target—"

"Intuition," replied the guy, cutting off a rather peeved Septimus, "Neil, your cousin may have been horrified at your apparent lack of interest in Dark Lords and Death Eaters, but your brother would be pleased. Me too, seeing as I may or may not have spoken in your behalf when you interviewed. Small favor for a friend."

"Lawrence talked to you about my application?" Neil gawked, as he deflected another hex. They were fumbling their way through the hectic crowd and towards the door.

"Lawrence and Professor Slughorn. Old Sluggy was very insistent — felt bad about what happened to you and Puddlemore and kept vouching about how you were a very bright person— and I supposed networking does work…"

"Potter, concentrate!" Septimus Thunberg chided. "In case you haven't noticed, we're —"

Before the man could finish his sentence, MacLaggen blasted a path forward towards an exit, as Albus casted an invisible shield around them, reinforced by Thunberg and Neil himself. It was weird operating, fighting alongside, people who were a few levels to his superior. Being still a trainee, those were people he would normally take lessons from.

When they were finally out of danger's way, at a secure corner of muggle London, Neil finally asked, "What were you guys doing there?!"

"Could ask the same," Thunberg remarked, "Young Auror trainee with a … notorious family background approached by dark organization recruiter."

"Don't worry, you've proved your allegiance," MacLaggen reassured him, "We'll get you a safe place to say while you continue your work. Part of the perks and privileges of being an Auror."

"We were doing some field research," Potter replied, directly answering his question. "That whole bar was swarming with supporters and sympathizers. Not all but a good dozen of them. We all got lucky."

Neil nodded, wiping away sweat from his forehead. That had been close, very close. When he got home— after a delay due to the need to reporters to the Auror Headquarters— he breathed a sigh of relief after realizing the place was now secured with safety wards.

~X~

"So what did happen to Albert, Jemima and Walter and all—"

"They all died," Neil explained, "That night. You know what night I'm talking about."

A series of tentative nods. "How did—"

"The Killing Curse. There are theories on who did it but no concrete evidence, of course. Not going to lie, I felt bad for Albert," Neil remarked, "The rest, not so much. But Albert was in a touch spot. He didn't really believe in any of the things the Sons of Walpurgis stood for. Yet his parents, his brother, his family— they were all in on it. Okay maybe Janus too; no one in his family set up hiding places and they basically managed to hold his parents hostage… well, that and he wanted to please— Never mind. It's complicated. Let bygones be bygones…"

"Indeed. Glad no one I was close to was stupid enough to go long with the Sons of Walpurgis."

"Yeah. I'm glad none of my friends turned out to be muggleborn hating maniacs."

"We love you too much for that, Arthur. That and they're quite literally stupid."

"History repeats itself: first time as a tragedy, second time as a farce. I mean, think about it."

"I can assure you it did not feel like a 'farce' when your apartment needed security wards to keep yourself safe from maniacal bloodthirsty terrorists who want you dead."

"Of course I'm not downplaying any of the danger and suffering people faced but compared to the last time, it was objectively a farce. There's a… tragic-comedy feel to it," Martin explained, now fully drunk and unaware of his ramblings. He was probably shooting from the heart— uncensored, "Albert probably could have inherited a fuck-ton of money if he had just held out a little longer— and a patch of land after the whole place was burnt to the ground with Fiendfyre and literally every member of the Rowle family in Britain died that night. Now it's probably going to some distant family in America who are clueless as to why they've received such a hefty inheritance. The Sons of Walpurgis running short on cash — as was revealed by subsequent papers — and abysmally trying to recruit young impressionable Hogwarts students, who all come up with increasingly creative ways to say no or derail their answer. Neil, Sam and I being an example. The 'I don't want to get thrown out of Puddlemore and trials for the national team are upcoming' is still my favorite. Those idiots actually bought it. Okay maybe not but it was still funny. That failed attempt to cast a Dark Mark at Hogsmeade. How this wasn't stopped by some heroic Chosen One but a crazy dude who just kept killing people and basically decapitated their leadership via indiscriminate murder."

"It's not funny," Neil snapped, a frustration arose in him that he could not really quash and his friends could tell. "They threatened Suzy, you know. Strapped her mouth, tied her to a pole… all of that. Said that was my punishment for not joining."

"Ohhh….. I see."

"Stop it, Arthur. Stop it with that look."

"Well, they never kidnapped me and forced you to rescue me—"

"I didn't rescue Suzy… I— The other Aurors did it. Teddy Lupin, if you guys have heard of him. Led a raid in the location where lots of others were captured too. When they freed her, she simply disappeared. Left the country. Didn't even get the chance to… to… Never mind. I must sound so sentimental."

"Awww because you are," Arthur said as he pulled him into a hug.

"Stop, stop… it's been years. It did hurt at first but I'm over it."

"Well, if you ever need a girlfriend, I can always link you up with—"

"No Martin, no. Just no." Neil downed another shot.

~X~

The Ministry of Magic was engulfed in commotion. Aurors were standing guard around every nook and cranny. They had received intel that the Sons of Walpurgis were planning a huge attack. Panting, Neil approached his superior, Septimus Thunberg. Still fresh out of the Trainee program at the age of 18 Neil and the rest of his graduating class were drafted in due to the emergency situation. "Reporting for duty," Neil declared alongside his colleague Loris Hicks and Tabitha Smith.

He was shaken. It was only weeks before the incident with Suzy. He never even got the chance to meet her again — not since he— not since he took the fall for her after his acceptance to Puddlemore— she stole the manager's watch after scrounging in the streets. He lied and told them he did it; that he was jealous of its fine decorations. They didn't believe him of course, they thought something was off. Their new star recruit, suddenly confessing a delinquency, admitting to committing theft when he already came from a well-off pureblood family. None of them bought it.

But none of them asked any further questions— and all conceded that he forfeit his place and join ranks among the Aurors. (All of them agreed, too, to never speak of it to the public or press.) Suzy was so close to being thrown into Azkaban and Neil couldn't stand watch it happen. He cared for her deeply, but, more importantly, he felt like a shitty friend for not supporting enough back when they were both at Hogwarts. He would sometimes hang out with her, yet was consciously aware of her marginalized social status and sought a degree of distance. She knew; he knew. She didn't seem to care, nor begrudge him in particular, even though he would more than deserve it.

He was narcissistic and self-interested, a sucker for social status. He remembered how in his first year he would beg his seemingly cool older brother to let him hang out with the upperclassmen. Lawrence politely and gleefully decline, of course, but it still hurt. Then he had— since joining the Quidditch team and becoming their star Seeker — obtained a significant degree of popularity, especially after he helped Slytherin achieve a 3-year winning streak. During those times, when he hung out with his Quidditch buddies and other fiends, he could pretend Suzy never existed. But she always clung on the back of his mind. Like a… like a whisk of conscience? A reminder that things existed beyond popularity.

No— he wasn't shallow. He had taken responsibility for her hadn't he? He had repaid their friendship after she left. He had thought the debt was clean. But then they took her. In retrospect, he shouldn't have been surprised that the Sons of Walpurgis kidnapped her of all people to get to him. His brother was tucked safely away in America, admits all the wards and safety assurances of Ilvermorny. His parents were lodged in a safe-house in Mallorca. His friends, well, kidnapping renewed Quidditch players were still a tad early at this stage of prominence and the rest of them were far to clever, paranoid or well-resourced to be prone to capture. It left only her. She was muggleborn, too boot.

Yet he wasn't able to save her. Not that he had the authority to conduct a raid anyway, even though he was part of the team that helped locate the site of the hostages. It was Teddy Lupin and some other Auror team. She didn't — at the end of the day — even know it was him. She didn't even know why this all happened and probably blamed it all on him. Never mind that. The past was the past. Old feelings needed to be buried for—

"NEIL!" Loris Hicks yelled. "Behind you!"

Neil ducked just in time to evade the Cruciatus Curse. Recognizing a familiar face, his heart sunk, "Vacillius."

"Well hello cousin, ready to die?"

~X~

"No," Neil declared, "No— I'm not— I'm not dating anyone. I don't know why you guys keep insisting. I— I just don't have the time! I'm busy with work!"

"Ohhhh…." His friends teased him yet again.

"Please stop."

"Lily Potter?"

"Are you guys joking? No! For fuck's sake! Not into her her type. Plus, she's seeing Freddy now!"

"Your roommate?"

"Well, yeah. They went on a date. A couple, actually, ever since I threw that party."

"Jealous?"

"No! Also don't want any derisive gossip from the Aurors about dating the Boss's daughter—"

"Cynthia?"

"Merlin's beard no! She's seeing Thomas too— again. We're just friends."

"Oh come on! We know you and — ah-hem, Suzy— were just friends…"

"Fuck off."

"Calypso Rosier?"

"Fuck off. No. Bad breakup. She's seeing someone else."

"Muriel Pippins?"

"No, she's seeing Douglas. Fellow teammates and all — Martin, I thought you knew!"

"Yeah but—"

"No. I'm not into her type."

"Pity. What are you into?"

"I'm not considering dating—"

"Well, looks like we'll have to help—"

"No. No, no, no. I know what you guys are thinking. I'm just not ready. Plus, we're all young and it's not as if any of you guys — sans Sam— are in stable relationships either!"

"Awwww, poor Neil…"

"You have one minute to switch topics before I hex you to the moon and back!"

~X~

"Rictemsempra!"

Loris's spell finally knocked over Vacillius and taking advantage of the situation before him, Neil quickly casted a "Incarcerceous" and grabbed Vacillius' wand on the floor . He gazed into the eyes of his crazy, wayward cousin that had tormented him for so long. Tormented Lawrence and the rest of his family too.

"Blood-traitor!" The guy spat.

"Delinquent moron!" Neil spat back.

Septimus Thunberg observed the scene before him in curiosity. The confrontation had been personal for Neil and the rest of them felt like emotional bystanders — even though Neil did concede that he probably would have gotten killed without their help. Still, it was — from a psychological perspective — his fight. His demons to overcome.

"Look buddy," Loris — a colleague a couple of years his senior, but none the less still not too far off hierarchically — put his arm around Neil's shoulders. "You did great. All that's left is for us to throw his ass to Azkaban."

"Our Dark Lord will get to you before that!" Vacillius declared triumphantly, madness and bloodlust glistening in his hollowed eyes.

"Don't be delusional," Neil snapped. "He'd — or she'd — get thrown into Azkaban just like you!"

"Oh but you don't know…"

There was a flash of bright green in the background. Something fell to the floor. Then another flash. And another. And another. Another flash.

A cloaked figure sought to flee. Janus! Neil recognized that guy. A fearful, skittish guy that was a year above. Trialled out for the Quidditch of team but didn't make the cut. Neil remembered him. He was struck by a bright, emerald stream of light. A silent Avada Kedavra; it had to be someone with experience. And he— too — fell onto the floor. His eyes looked so dead, so listless, so lifeless. Neil wondered if he had died a willing death, or whether he merely joined out of pressure and coercion— much like Neil had almost done if it weren't for Vacillius being so antagonizing and reckless— and if it hadn't been for Suzy—

They couldn't tell who did it at first. (But— but it had to be someone on their side, right? They were attacking the Sons of Walpurgis, not for them.) Soon after, Neil spotted Jemima— a Ravenclaw girl who graduated his year— and she had tried to cast some Unforgivable Curse, but before she could finish her incantation, she was struck by the Killing Curse too.

This time, Neil thought he could see something. Loris and Septimus saw it too. Bright green eyes whose hues echoed the curse flashing with madness and anger. Beneath the Cloak of Invisibility, which the figure quickly drew up before any of them could react. It swept past the scene and headed for escape. Loris looked like he had seen a ghost and Septimus was paralyzed with shock. It could — those eyes, that cloak— it could only have been two people.

~X~

"Please, I — I don't want to talk this anymore," Neil remarked. "I— Look Albert had it coming but I still can't help but feel bad. I just— in another time, had he only been a few years younger, he would have been a perfectly fine wizard. And yes, Martin, he'd inherit a fuck-ton of money and be set for life. To be honest, I felt and for Janus too. Just like that his life was gone. Wasted away…"

"Enough sympathy for the Devil, Neil."

"What if I wasn't sympathizing with the Devil— but with Eve herself?"

"Eve deserved it."

"Adam then."

~X~

Cynthia sipped another mimosa— classic brunch staple, or so Lily would claim. Thomas sat before her, thoroughly amused and inebriated. They recounted the good old days, the recent fun episodes and contemplated on what lay ahead. They laughed, they teased and then, and then suddenly it all flashed before her— the explosions at Belfast. The cruel laughter of the last remnants of the active Sons of Walpurgis, intent on causing as much harm to muggles as they went down in a last hurrah— they— She couldn't save them. She couldn't—

"Cynthia! Cynthia— are you okay?" Thomas looked concerned.

Cynthia almost gave a bitter laugh. As if Thomas cared before…

But he did seem to care now. She resisted from making wry, cynical comments. Now was not the moment. His brows furrowed. He seemed rather upset and shook his head. "Are you thinking about Belfast?" He asked quietly.

She found herself nodding.

"You know, I can't seem to forget about that either…"

A/N: So here we have part of Neil's backstory and part of Cynthia's - or at least clues and snippets of it, both of which shaped their character. There are background hints at the Potter family, which will come back in prominence. I wanted to show that during the last instances of "Falling", Albus basically committed a total massacre. There's a lot he still has to reckon with. I hoped you guys would like it.