During the time when Alice was in the champions' room—Zander was alone.
While everyone in the main hall of Ilvermorny chatted excitedly about their chosen champions and the games to come—Zander had slipped away when his friends weren't looking, turning and marching out to the halls, and he continued to walk alone for a long while thereafter.
For over an hour, he simply walked, fighting with his thoughts and feelings.
He mulled over it, over and over again, rehashing the same thoughts and dwelling madly over each and every one of them. He marched with a hard stride, hands jammed into the pockets of his robe, glaring down at the floor and occasionally shaking his head—still unable to make sense of it at all.
Alice wasn't incompetent, and he knew that full well—but she was thoughtless and brash, and her skills didn't exactly lend themselves to the tasks of the Triwizard Tournament. Why on earth did the Goblet of Fire choose her over him?
Why did that damned goblet have to put him through this? It couldn't have chosen him, or anyone else from Hogwarts?
It had to be her?
Zander gritted his teeth, storming angrily beneath the night sky and walking directly away from the castle, Ilvermorny's windows alit in the distance behind him. He found himself walking into the woods, thundering past the bewitched old cottage house, and strolling down the hill towards the water's edge, approaching the isolated blue box and shoving its doors open.
Then, to his chagrin—he found that the Slytherpuff room was not empty.
Zander walked inside, huffing out an agitated breath and glancing around the green-and-gold room. James, Rose, Tobias, and Lorcan were seated on both of the couches, all of them turning and meeting his eyes.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Zander merely glared at them, thinking he must've been walking around the campus of Ilvermorny for longer than he'd initially thought. Then, he found himself wishing he'd never told any of his friends about the Slytherpuff room in the first place, because now, it wasn't a place that he could simply run to for isolation anymore.
The Slytherpuff room was now a place for all of his friends. The room and its purpose had certainly changed a lot over all this time.
In fact—it seemed everything had.
Everything was changing, and he couldn't help but detest this fact more and more as he mulled over it.
Zander fumed again, shaking his head once and shooting his friends a look. "What're you all doing in here?"
James and Lorcan traded faces, Rose and Tobias merely frowning at him.
"We, um… well… we thought you'd come here," Rose said sheepishly. "And we… thought… we should talk to you."
James nodded in agreement. "You seemed kinda… not… happy."
"Actually—you seemed extremely disappointed," Lorcan stated.
"Ve just vant to make sure you're okay," Tobias said sadly.
"I'm spectacular," Zander griped tonelessly. "And I don't feel like talking right now."
The other four exchanged glimpses again, none looking convinced.
"Listen… we know you're worried about Alice," Rose said, slowly rising from the couch. "But we're all gonna be here to help her prepare and figure everything out… and my mom passed a lot of things through the Ministry that keeps the tournament from being half as dangerous as it used to be. The MACUSA is fully in line with it, too—"
"I don't care," Zander said sharply.
Everyone stared at him.
Rose made a face. "You don't care…?"
"No. I don't care. None of that helps," Zander snapped, moving forward and planting his hands on the back of the nearest couch. "Do you really think any of that makes a difference? You can't outlaw danger in a tournament that thrives on danger—and she shouldn't have been picked in the first bloody place!"
Once more, everyone paused, this time giving him a series of perturbed stares.
"Vait." Tobias stood from his own couch, turning and narrowing his eyes at Zander. "Vhat do you mean, she shouldn't have been picked?"
James and Lorcan reached their feet as well, and all four of them stared at Zander expectantly.
Zander huffed out another breath, all of their eyes on him beginning to agitate him even more.
"What the hell do you think I mean?" he hissed. "You've seen her use her best skills before, right? Fire—which goes out of control. Flying—which goes way too damned fast. And here's a little refresher for all of you—what the bloody hell happened in the Chamber of Secrets? Hm? Oh, yeah, that's right—she got herself fucking tortured!"
"Zander—she's a teenager," Rose reminded him, slapping her own palm. "Everyone makes mistakes, especially people our age. Those were all just learning experiences—"
"Are you kidding me?" Zander snarled at her. "I understand that we're all young and still learning and all that—but did I get tortured? Do I make fires that go out of control? Do I fly broomsticks like a raving bat out of Hell?! Do I go around picking fights with sentient trees and getting my skull cracked in by rogue bludgers?! No! So why in the hell does the Goblet of Fire think that only airheaded ruddy Hufflepuffs should be thrown into this godforsaken tournament?! That stupid damned goblet is making the same bloody mistake it made last time! And it's gonna get her killed like Cedric Diggory!"
Another silence fell—this one much longer and graver than all the ones prior.
Zander's chest rose and fell with every frustrated breath. Rose gazed into him with a mixture of sadness and perturbation, and James, Tobias, and Lorcan were all staring at him with the same grim expressions strewn across their faces.
"First of all—the goblet was bewitched last time," Rose finally broke the silence, her tone notably flatter than before. "And second of all—nobody could've known that a psychotic dark wizard was going to pop up and cross Cedric Diggory's path last time. There were a lot of factors back then that don't apply at all now."
"Oh—really?" Zander griped challengingly, perking his brow and cocking his head at her. "Okay—so what would you call Valefor and Xyler? What would you call the Seal of Shadows? What would you call our circumstances now? Hm?"
Rose glared at him vacantly, saying nothing.
"Because the last time I checked—Alice was bloody marked by them," Zander told them straightly. "She and I were personally warned by Vance Calloway about where not to go because they're specifically targeting us. Vance Calloway wouldn't even be involved with the tournament if they didn't suspect the Seal of Shadows to try and interfere—oh, and we just happen to be in the place where the Seal of Shadows has its biggest bloody numbers, too. Not to mention, they infiltrated Hogwarts once already, nearly killed our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, nearly killed me, and nearly killed Alice! So—do I need to go on? You really wanna keep arguing that we don't have the same dangerous circumstances that everyone had last time? Because if anything, they're worse than last time. Cedric Diggory was killed just by happenstance—but Alice actually has people specifically coming after her."
"For recruitment, Zander," Rose reminded him. "Not to kill her."
"Oh—well—pardon the hell outta me!" Zander quipped angrily, tossing up his hands. "Yeah, that makes it better! Maybe she won't die—maybe she'll just get captured by a bunch of people who like torturing her! Wohoo!"
"Ve wouldn't let that happen," Tobias remarked.
"What—because you're gonna stop them?" Zander chided, giving him a caustic look. "We all know you have some skills with animals, and that's precious, mate—but you're not gonna stop a guy like Valefor. Trust me."
"It wouldn't just be Tobias," Lorcan stated. "It'd be all of us."
"Not to mention loads of security," Rose added.
"And Arius, and Crowley, and Vance, MACUSA officials, pukwudgies, and God knows who else," James agreed. "Even my father is—"
"I don't wanna hear it!" Zander shouted furiously, punching the air with rage. "Are any of those people gonna be following her around during all the tasks? No—they're bloody well not! She's gonna be completely on her own—and speaking of your father, James—how did Voldemort get him? Hm? You wanna remind everyone of that? How did your father end up in a graveyard with Cedric Diggory?"
James reeled slightly back, his face stony and expressionless.
"The dark wizards of the time targeted him during the tournament, and they plucked him away from all his protection during a tournament task, when he was alone," Zander said gravely. "And now—some new dark wizards are after Alice, they all live in this country, and she's competing in the same damn tournament—and nobody seems to see history fucking repeating itself except for me!"
"It's not though," Rose argued, shaking her head and sighing in frustration. "You're jumping a hundred steps ahead, Zander—"
"Yes—and that's how you're supposed to think to prevent disasters from happening," Zander growled at her. "Keep up!"
"I am keeping up—but you're not gonna think clearly about this when you're this angry about it," Rose pointed out. "And—honestly—I think you have a lot of things to work out before you can stop being angry about this. You need to deal with everything that's hanging over you."
"What?!" Zander yelled. "Are you not following me? Do you really not see the cavalcade of problems here?! Because I don't know how I can possibly explain it any clearer—"
"It's not just that, Zander—and it's not just about the tournament or the Goblet of Fire," Rose countered, raising her voice over his. "It's about you—and everything that's still affecting you!"
Zander paused, an irritable breath escaping him, and he threw one of his hands up, shaking his head at her and feeling totally lost now.
"What're you on about…?" he uttered.
"Do you know what trauma is?" Rose asked, taking a step closer. "A lot of wizards don't even register trauma as a real thing—but the muggle world has a lot of books and therapy circulating around it. Trauma is when something so terrifying and scarring happens, it warps your brain and makes you extremely paranoid that it might happen again. It can even activate all your survival instincts if it gets triggered somehow. If similar circumstances to your trauma start to happen in your life, then you might react like it's actually happening all over again—"
"I know what trauma is, Rose—I'm not stupid," Zander snapped at her. "But I'm not the one who was bloody tortured—"
"It doesn't matter," Rose yelled. "Alice isn't the only one who could've been traumatized by it, Zander—because you had to watch it happen!"
Another deep silence fell—and Zander took slightly back, heaving several angry breaths through his tightly-clenched teeth. Instantly, he felt as if he was being cornered somehow, as if all of his friends' sad and troubled stares were burning holes directly through him, as if he was vulnerable in a way he simply couldn't allow himself to be. Now, he suddenly felt uncomfortable beneath his own skin, everything inside him squirming and fidgeting, wanting more than anything to be somewhere else, or to be talking about anything else, or to simply not have his friends give him the sympathetic and downtrodden looks they were giving him now.
"I'm not that bloody weak," Zander grumbled. "I can handle going through something hard."
"It's not about being weak," Rose told him sincerely. "It's just part of being human. Do you know how much trauma me and James have in our family? Our parents—they're some of the most traumatized people in the entire wizarding world, but they're also some of the strongest and most successful witches and wizards who have ever lived. It's not something to be ashamed of—it's just something you have to deal with."
"How?!" Zander blurted, feeling entirely fed up. "How can I sit around and tell myself that nothing like that will ever happen again?! Because everything is lining up in a way that's gonna make it all happen again! I can't just tell myself it's not gonna happen—because that's not fucking true, Rose!"
"And that right there—that's where you're derailing into anger," Rose spotted, jabbing a finger at him. "If you were thinking purely logically, then you'd know what the odds of Alice getting kidnapped actually are—but you're just reacting emotionally instead. You're not seeing how unlikely that is to happen. You're just freaking out because any odds exist of it happening at all."
"You tell yourself that all you want," Zander rumbled. "But you know as well as I do that she could easily get killed or carted off in this damn tournament! Alice shouldn've never been picked by the Goblet of Fire!"
Everything fell still and silent, Zander fuming and seething at them all.
Then, his glare wandered over to the side, only just noticing that Tobias was no longer looking at him. He was staring over Zander's shoulder now, seeming to focus on something behind him. In fact, Rose, James, and Lorcan were all staring behind him now as well.
Zander followed their trails of vision, turning fully around.
Alice was perfectly opposite him, standing in the open doorway of the blue box and leaning sideways against it, her arms crossed, her expression dark, and her eyes trained firmly onto his.
Zander took in a deep, shaking breath, biting his lip almost painfully as he returned her stare.
A thick, awful tension spread throughout the air of the Slytherpuff room, everyone else watching uncomfortably as the two of them merely stared at one another.
Zander inhaled heavily again, trying his best to force himself calm now.
"How long have you been there…?" he mumbled.
Alice's eyes narrowed at him, looking uncharacteristically expressionless.
"Well," she said, slowly straightening up and taking a step forward. "Long enough to hear about how bloody hopeless I am."
Zander's eyes moved down to the floor, hanging his head and avoiding her gaze.
Alice glared into him coldly, adjusting her folded arms and grimacing.
"Fire, and flying, and everything else under the sun," she said in a soft, toneless hiss. "I'm just not good enough at anything, am I?"
Zander didn't move or speak, feeling suddenly ashamed as well as angry.
"I didn't mean it like that," he murmured seconds later.
"Right. 'Course not," Alice replied callously. "Because when I talk to people about you, I always focus on all the mistakes you've ever made and make you sound like a bloody idjiot. Aye—because, y'know, that's just how you talk about your best friend, especially when you don't actually think they're an incompetent moron."
"I didn't mean it like that," Zander repeated louder, raising his head and meeting her eyes again.
"Then whaddo you mean? Hm? Because it can't just be you worrying about me," Alice growled. "What—are you angry because I'm taking your limelight? Are you upset because you can't prove that you're the master at something like you always have with everything else you've ever done? You've always been better than me at everything—but this one time, this one time, I'm actually the one who gets to do the big amazing thing. For once, I'm finally good enough to be on par with you. But you just can't stand that, can you?"
"No—I fucking can't!" Zander erupted. "I'm supposed to do it for you!"
"Well—there we are, then," Alice replied with a definitive nod. "And tough—because you can't do it for me. Goodnight."
She turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the narrow blue doors shut behind her.
Zander stood stock still, rooted to the spot and glaring into the thin double-doors for several seconds thereafter, feeling as if he might've been standing there for years. Emotions waged war inside him, heart hammering terribly, and he found himself grinding his teeth yet again, scowling at the doors and forcing down a sudden mad desire to cry, hands balling into fists by his sides.
"Oy. C'mon," James muttered to the others, stepping around the couch. "Let's leave him alone for a bit. He needs to be alone…"
James then stepped past Zander, patting him once on the back before pulling the doors open. Rose, Tobias, and Lorcan all spared Zander a conflicted look as they walked past him, and one by one, his friends all stepped out of the Slytherpuff room, and the doors swung shut again.
Zander remained there, alone, fuming, and inhaling countless trembling breaths, angry tears beginning to form in his eyes, blurring his vision before rolling steadily down his cheeks.
And—as Alice crawled into her bed in the dark Hufflepuff dorms within the cottage—she buried her face into her pillow, hugged it tight, and fought a silent battle with furious feelings and thoughts, sniffling and swallowing her sobs, tears staining her pillow all the while.
Both of them remained awake fairly late into the night on the first evening of the Triwizard Tournament, crying silently by their lonesomes until eventually drifting into saddened slumbers.