CenturionEon: Yes, Amelie's a very complicated character and is at a uncertain point in her life. She has flaws definitely and looks to fill the void inside her with people. It doesn't work, of course. Sex and relationships is her way of coping. Thank you for your interest, I appreciate very much.
Oathvion: Hello, and thank you for your interest. Glad you're loving it.
The gleaming scarlet train came into view as Alexander ran through the two pillars. He instinctively tensed his muscles while running between the two platforms with his trolley, the painful fiasco from last year still vivid in his mind.
It was a familiar sight, and he felt his chest grow lighter as the sounds of chattering students and screeches of owls surrounded him. In a few hours, he'd be back with his friends and walking through the large entrance doors again.
Grandfather cleared his throat next to Alexander, who tensed slightly. Their conversation was still fresh in his mind, and he hadn't quite forgiven his grandfather yet.
They both arrived early at Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. Alexander saw no sign of his close friends, but he waved at some people he recognised from the other years. There was no sign of the Weasleys or Harry and Hermione. Alexander expected Ron's family to arrive late – it was the custom for them. They'll probably make it last minute.
"Do you need any assistance with your trunk?" offered Grandfather, hands clasped behind his back as he peered curiously down at him.
"No," Alexander replied curtly, not looking at him. "I can manage it myself."
Grandfather gave a brief nod. "Well, if you are sure, then. . ."
He opened to mouth to say something but then stopped and closed it. Whatever it was, it lay unspoken, and Alexander had no curiosity to hear what it was. Probably some speech or lecture.
Alexander wondered what Grandfather wanted from him. He was just standing there like a looming tree when all Alexander wished for was for him to go.
His mother's entries have shifted his perspective on his grandfather, and Alexander couldn't quite look at him the same anymore. Grandfather sensed something was wrong, but hadn't pushed him to reveal it just yet. Alexander didn't know whether to be grateful or angry about this.
"Bear in mind what I told you before," Grandfather said quietly, interrupting Alexander's thoughts. "Keep Harry Potter safe and in the castle. No adventures or getting into trouble, as you have for the past two years."
"I heard you the first time," snapped Alexander, scowling.
His grandfather bristled and straightened his posture than it already was. "I am serious, Alexander. I will require weekly updates – the Minster and I."
Alexander felt his ears grow hot, but pressed his lips together and fixed his eyes on the ground. He didn't need Grandfather ordering him to protect his friend. He was going to do exactly that, anyway.
"Noted," he replied stiffly, then demanded, "Are you planning on waiting around till Christmas arrives? Or don't you have work to get back to?"
For a moment, Alexander thought he'd gone too far and was going to receive a harsh reprimand, but Grandfather merely was taken aback. He blinked slowly, then shook his head.
"Well, I will be going, if you must know. Fudge expects me soon."
"You better go then."
Grandfather looked hesitant, then leaned forward. Alexander took one step back, mouth parted in surprise, but realised that his grandfather had pulled him into a hug.
Alexander tensed and let his hands hang at his sides. This was foreign and unexpected and felt rather stiff on both ends. Both looked as relieved as they felt when let go.
There was a glint of woefulness in Grandfather's eyes as he stepped back to look at Alexander fully. He opened his mouth, but Alexander hurriedly spoke before he could.
"Goodbye then." He picked up his trunk and climbed onto the train, not looking over his shoulder once.
Alexander stood in the corridor, and his chest jolted as he heard the train door thud shut before him. He was still for a moment, his breathing shallow and harsh, and his heart pounding against his ears. Then his heart sank and something sharp stung in the back of his eyes.
He glanced out of the window, the temptation too strong: where his grandfather stood a few moments ago now was an empty spot. People milled about, parents holding their children's hands or running across the platform in mirthful chatters.
Alexander had a sudden urge to cry. It hit him rather hard and took a deep breath in to compose himself.
One. Two.
He gripped tighter on the handle of his trunk and dragged it along the train corridor. It was easier to carry than during his first year, proving to him he was growing.
Near the front, in one compartment, there was the familiar sight of curly brown hair, a jean jacket, and shiny silver rings. Alexander's chest felt lighter as he grinned when he saw Nia. He slid open the compartment door.
Nia peered up, her guitar lying across her lap as she tested the strings. It reminded Alexander of his violin, that lay in his trunk and he had a sudden desire to play a melody. It helped him all summer, and he was grateful for it.
He finds it relaxing. His grandfather hired a violist for him when he was younger and now, he plays whenever he wanted to distract himself from his intense emotions.
Nia smiled and placed her guitar beside her as she waved at him.
"This feels familiar, Laurent," she teased. "Remember your first year? How tiny you used to be."
Alexander rolled his eyes as she laughed, but smiled and shook his head. He grabbed the seat opposite.
"So, how was your summer?" he asked. "Been up to much lately?"
"Good. Peaceful, I suppose," shrugged Nia. "I've mostly been playing my guitar and talking long walks."
"Walks?" Alexander raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah. Don't give me that face, Laurent. It's not that bad, really. I just like being in the comfort of my own mind. You know, to be one with nature and all that?"
"You live in South London," Alexander pointed out. "That's as far from nature as you can get."
Nia huffed out a laugh. "You need to see the beauty in ordinary things and places. It's there if you look for it, Laurent."
"Hey, I see beauty," defended Alexander. "I do. I just don't like nature all that much. Or walking. And especially being in my mind too much."
"Why not?" Nia stated at him inquisitively. "You can learn a lot about yourself."
Alexander looked around uncomfortably. "I don't know, I guess I just don't. . ."
He knew why, though. Being in his mind for too long meant that he'll drive himself insane with overthinking and come to conclusions that unnerved him.
Alexander remembered something and rose from his seat to open his trunk.
"What's this?" asked Nia curiously, looking down at a CD he handed her that had a colourful cover.
"It's a CD – you know what that is, right?" he teased with a smirk. "I got it from Paris. It's a special edition apparently, and I know you like music. There might be some guitar notes in some songs."
Nia sat stunned, her eyes wide. "Thank you, Laurent. Really. You didn't have to."
"I know, but I wanted to get gifts for my friends." He shrugged earnestly. "Just make sure you play me something. Deal?"
"Deal." Nia grinned, flipping over the CD to read the back.
The door slid open, and Helen stepped in. Her caramel eyes landed on Nia and a bright beam lit up the whole of her face.
"Niaaa!" she squealed in delight and bounded over to hug her. "There you guys are. I've been looking for you."
Nia rolled her eyes in exasperation, but Alexander saw her discreet smile as she sunk into Helen's arms, knowing she secretly loved it.
Alexander got up to help Helen with the trunk, earning him a thankful smile. She sat down next to him, and Alexander was hyper-aware of the brush of her leg against his. She made no move to remove it and neither did he, though the spot tingled.
Helen became animated as she spoke. She made enthusiastic gestures and loud exclamations as she talked about everything she had seen and done over the holidays. Nia gave her full attention to Helen and listened to every word she said.
Alexander bought out a bag of macrons that he bought for Helen from a bakery in Paris. Grandfather had charmed them to stay perfect, so they hadn't been damaged.
Helen looked inside the paper bag, and an excited noise came from her mouth. "It's pink!" she beamed. "My favourite colour."
Alexander nodded, feeling light-headed as she leaned to the side to hug him. "I know. You mentioned it before."
"Thank you, Alex. This is very thoughtful of you," she said.
They stared at each other for a few seconds. Alexander's heart quickened, and he clutched the edge of his seat more firmly.
A loud clearing of a throat broke their gaze. Helen had a soft blush on her face as she turned away.
Alexander looked over at Nia, whose eyebrows had crept to the top of her temple and her mouth pressed in a firm line. She stared back at Alexander, then Helen. She shrugged and placed her guitar back in his case.
Alexander wanted to speak to her, but Helen changed the subject before he could.
"So, Alex," she began, resting back comfortably in her seat, "You never mentioned what subjects you took for this year."
"Yeah, I was kinda busy last term," answered Alexander wryly. "But I took Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures."
Helen nodded approvingly. "Good. Well, I'm pleased to hear it. Those are some excellent subjects. You're not taking Divination at least."
"No, I'm not."
Nia frowned slightly, her expression one of displeasure, which was directed at Helen. "What's wrong with Divination?" she demanded, her tone somewhat sharpish.
Helen bit her lip. "Nothing's wrong with it, Ni, you know that. It's just – "
" What?"
Helen sighed. "Well, if you must know, it's just that Divination doesn't seem like a sensible choice for future careers. It's not very serious."
Nia's expression darkened, and she scowled at Helen. "Yeah, well, I like the subject, so lay off. It's interesting."
Helen didn't appear as if she agreed. "Really, Ni, like I've told you before if you'd just – "
" No. Drop it," snapped Nia.
Helen sighed again at Nia's stony expression, but didn't push on the topic.
Alexander shifted awkwardly, not knowing what to say or how to ease the tension. The atmosphere had shifted a tad. Helen looked out of the window, her brows creased, while Nia had taken out a magazine and was flicking through it quite fast.
The train had been moving for some minutes now. Alexander rose from his seat, drawing both girls' attention to him.
"I'll be back later," he declared. "I have to go meet some people first."
The two girls nodded and hardly protested; they went back to their previous actions.
Alexander grabbed the gifts from his trunk and exited the compartment, sliding the door shut behind him.
As he walked through the narrow corridor, feeling the vibrations of the moving train under his feet, he waved at some people. Alexander felt surprised that people – especially those in the upper years – knew him.
He stopped to talk to Hannah and Susan for a short while, who was walking back from the restroom. They made small talk and Hannah then asked him if planned to take part in the Gobstones Club again this year. Alexander hadn't thought about it yet. He finally said goodbye and walked off to find the others.
But Alexander didn't search for long. Their compartment was toward the end like he'd guessed it would be. Harry, Ron, and Hermione greeted him happily. They'd been wondering where he was.
The first thing he noticed as he entered was a shabby man, who lay asleep in the corner. Alexander eyed him warily, wondering if it was a Muggle who got on the wrong train or something.
"Don't worry, mate, he won't wake," promised Ron, seeing his gaze. "He's dead asleep."
"If you say so," mumbled Alexander. He took a seat next to Hermione and stretched out his hand. "Here, I bought this for you guys."
Ron's eyes lit up with excitement as he grabbed a purple-coloured box. "Wicked!" He exclaimed. "Thanks, Alex. You're a lifesaver – I was beginning to get hungry as well."
Harry smiled. "Yeah, thanks, Alex. I appreciate it."
Alexander stifled his laugh as Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's comment and said they were welcome.
"I've never had Parisian sweets before," remarked Hermione in wonder, reading over the contents of the box.
"It's magical, apparently," said Alexander. "I got it from a wizarding shop. My grandfather took me."
Ron sighed. "I wish I visited sweet shops in another country. Mum wouldn't let us leave the tombs in Egypt. Honestly." He shook his head.
"Really, Alex, you didn't have to," murmured Hermione, her expression softening as she gazed at him.
Alexander shrugged. "You guys are my closest friends. I wanted to buy you stuff."
Hermione bit into a yellow sweet. "So, tell me about Paris. Was it all you expected it to be? Did you learn anything new there? And don't leave out any details."
Alexander laughed, settling back in his seat as he recounted his time. Hermione listened eagerly, giving her full attention. The various sweets distracted Harry and Ron and they weren't listening properly. They kept comparing their own sweets together.
Alexander reached into his pocket. Hermione looked curious, especially when he leaned closer and his voice lowered.
"I also bought these just for you," he said, pulling out a bundle of pristine primroses, all in various shades of colour. He grinned at her wide-eyed expression.
Hermione gasped. "Oh, Alex," she breathed. "These look beautiful."
He delighted in her reaction. "I remember how you mentioned wanting to see them in person, so I bought them with me. They're from the orchard. They look amazing in the summer sun, by the way. My grandfather put a spell on them so they wouldn't squish."
Hermione twirled them in her hands, running her eyes across them.
"I didn't know what colour you liked," Alexander continued, "So, I bought one of everything."
"I love them, thank you, Alex." Her eyes glistened with awe and surprise. "I think I remember reading somewhere that for the Celts, primrose was a sacred and valuable flower."
" 'Course you'd read about primroses in your spare time," he teased playfully, listening in fascination.
"It's so fascinating," gushed Hermione, placing the flowers gently on her lap. "The flower was said to drive away evil spirits and they signify safety and protection."
Alexander hummed. "I never knew that."
Hermione smiled at him softly, her brown eyes gentle. "Well, now you do."
A whistling noise from the train interrupted their staring. Alexander cleared his throat and focused as Ron appeared outraged.
"What do you mean?"
"I can't go," announced Harry in a morose tone. "The Dursleys didn't sign my permission form, and Fudge wouldn't either."
Ron looked horrified. "You're not allowed to come? But – no way – McGonagall or someone will give you permission —"
Harry gave a hollow laugh, which Alexander cringed at. It was good in the long run if it kept his friend from being killed by a murderous criminal, yet Alexander hated the sorrowful tone in his friend's voice. He hated this all situation with a passion. It was so unfair.
"– or we can ask Fred and George, they know every secret passage out of the castle —"
Alexander sat up straight. He felt troubled. Getting out of the castle was exactly what his grandfather had warned about, and would like to hear about. Should he. . .?
"Ron!" interrupted Hermione sharply. "I don't think Harry should be sneaking out of the school with Black on the loose —"
"Yeah, I expect that's what McGonagall will say when I ask permission," said Harry bitterly.
"But if we're with him," said Ron, spiritedly.
"Oh, Ron, don't talk rubbish," snapped Hermione. "Black's already murdered a bunch of people in the middle of a crowded street. Do you really think he's going to worry about attacking Harry just because we're there?"
Alexander sighed quietly in relief. Thank God for Hermione's stubbornness toward rules. Oh, how he hated going behind his friend's back, but what choice did he have?
Hermione fumbled with the straps of Crookshanks's basket as she spoke.
"Don't let that thing out!" Ron said, but too late; Crookshanks leapt lightly from the basket, stretched, yawned, and sprang onto Ron's knees; the lump in Ron's pocket trembled, and he shoved Crookshanks angrily away.
Crookshanks hissed at him before purring as he went to sit on Alexander's lap. Alexander cooed and stroked the cat. Ron glared at him, to which he shrugged.
"Don't look at me like that, Ron," he smirked. "Cats can't help who they like and don't like."
He peered out of the rain-soaked window and his smile dropped as he noticed how dark it had become. This was usually a sign of. . .
A grumble of deafening thunder echoed.
Alexander flinched slightly, shutting his eyes and gripping tight onto Crookshanks' fur, who yelped in surprise.
"Sorry, Crookshanks," he murmured, then placed the cat back in Hermione's arms.
Why did it have to happen right now when he was surrounded by his friends? He was usually fine as long as long as they were small, but this thunderstorm seemed like a large one. They were the worst.
"Alex, are you okay?" whispered Hermione curiously, leaning into him.
He hadn't outwardly displayed his fear – so Harry and Ron hadn't noticed – but he knew Hermione could feel the trembling of his knee, which he'd tried to control by placing a hand over it.
He gave her a forced smile. "Y-yeah," he answered with a somewhat steady voice, "I'm fine. Just don't like thunderstorms all that much. The sound of them, really."
Hermione didn't give him a pitying look as he expected, but did softly grab his hand and give it a light squeeze.
Alexander strained his ears, listening for the next flash and bang to erupt, but Hermione interjected.
"Think about something else," she suggested kindly, "or count to a thousand. It'll help."
One. Two. Three. Four. . .
Hermione began telling him facts she's read about Hogsmeade.
"Hogsmeade's a very interesting place, isn't it? In Sites of Historical Sorcery, it says the inn was the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion, and the Shrieking Shack's supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Britain —"
The more she spoke, the less he worried about the thunder. Her voice was confident and packed a tinge of excitement. She took deep breaths in between.
After a while, the thunder had stopped, but the rain still lashed on. Alexander felt calmer now. He released his hand from Hermione's and gave a grateful nod.
He looked down at his watch. It was almost 1 o'clock; the trolley lady would be here soon. He rose from his seat.
"I have to go back, but I'll see you three at the feast, yeah?" he remarked.
"Ah, going to see your girlfriend, are you, Alex?" teased Ron with a smirk as Harry laughed.
Alexander rolled his eyes. "At least I can get one, Ronald. Couldn't say the same to you, unfortunately. And Quidditch posters of the Holyhead Harpies don't count."
Ron spluttered as Alexander laughed.
Hermione, however, had her eyes fixed on her book with her lips pursed in a white line. Alexander shrugged. She was probably reading something complicated that made little sense to her.
As Alexander strode through the train, not looking where he was going, he ran into a person. He controlled his footing, then looked up and saw a boy already in his uniform. He was a Ravenclaw. The boy seemed older and was taller with light blonde hair. Alexander concluded he was a year or two above.
"Sorry," said Alexander, "Didn't see you there."
"Ah, no worries," replied the boy with a small smirk. His voice was deep, with an undertone of constant mirth. He took out a cigarette and placed it in the corner of his mouth. "Small favour to ask, but you wouldn't have a lighter on you by any chance?"
Alexander blinked in surprise. "Oh, er, yeah, I do actually." He held out his mother's lighter and lit up the boy's cigarette.
"Thanks, mate. You're a lifesaver." The boy puffed deeply and blew the smoke to the side, but some drifted into Alexander's face. "I'm Sebastian, by the way. Fifth-year. Nice to meet you. You're Alexander Laurent, right?"
"Er, yes. I am." Sebastian was in his way and Alexander couldn't exactly barge past him while he was speaking. It would have been rude.
Sebastian grinned crookedly. "Yeah, my father works for your grandfather, Antoine. At the Ministry. He's always admired him. My father always said that he has this confident look to him that slightly intimidates people."
Alexander shifted uneasily. "Right. . ." He wanted to get back.
"How come you smoke at your age?" asked Sebastian curiously. "You're what? Twelve?"
Alexander frowned. " Thirteen actually. Fourteen in November. And I don't smoke. I just carry the lighter with me. It's mine."
Sebastian leaned on the wall and took another puff. "Hmm, thought so. But I'll tell you what, Laurent, if you ever need to smoke or build up a thirst – if you know what I mean – come and find me. I can smuggle something in. Think of it as a favour for helping me out. I desperately needed this cigarette, believe me."
Sebastian gave a two-handed salute against his temple as he walked backward and then entered a compartment. Alexander shook his head and went to find Helen and Nia.
Nia had her eyes closed and her head leaned back against the seat, rolling to the side as the train swayed with its movement. Helen sat next to her, which disappointed him somewhat. He assumed they weren't annoyed with each other anymore.
Nia blearily opened her eyes and waved at him as he entered. But, as soon as Alexander leaned back in his seat, the compartment door slide open again rather harshly, banging with a loud thud. The three of them jump in surprise, mouths opened and heads snapping toward the sound.
A familiar, unwelcome, and heavily muscled fifth-year Slytherin stood there, breathing heavily and directing his glare at Helen.
"Johnny!" exclaimed Helen, her tone high-pitched in shock.
"Helen," he spat angrily. "Why aren't you sitting with me and hanging out with these losers instead?" He cast a derisive glance across Alexander and Nia.
The two bristled, and Alexander gripped his seat.
"Don't call them that!" snapped Helen, scowling crossly. "And I told you before, I want nothing to do with you anymore, remember?" Her voice lowered. "You hurt me."
Alexander could see Johnny growing angrier. His jaw was clenched tight. He looked as if he was going to hit something.
"You heard her," chimed Nia coldly. "She wants nothing to do with you. So, fuck off, will you?"
"You shut your mouth. I wasn't talking to you," growled Johnny, and Nia glowered at him. Johnny's eye rested on Alexander, then let out a loud scoff. "Oh, this is rich. I knew you'd be here, Laurent. You never knew when to mind your own business. Now you're sniffing around Helen like a sad puppy with a bone." He sneered. "She'll never like you, anyway. If she does, it's because she wants your money and the fact that you're a Laurent. That's the truth of it."
Alexander whipped his wand out and jumped up from his seat.
"Laurent, no!" warned Nia. "Don't."
Helen's expression was crumpled with hurt and tears glistened on her eyes. She caught Alexander's eye and shook her head.
"Don't listen to him, Alex. It's not true, I promise."
Johnny's face softened as he gazed at Helen. He sighed as if in pain. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I really am. You just drive me crazy, Hel. You understand that, right?" His voice lowered to a soothing quality. "I get out of control sometimes. I just miss you, so bad."
A tear dropped from Helen's face, and she breathed in a shuddering breath. Alexander didn't trust this guy one bit and gripped his wand firmly. Johnny walked over and picked up Helen's wrist, and she didn't stop him.
"It's time, Hel," he continued. "The time for you being mad at me is over. You need to come back to me. Please."
Alexander stepped forward and shoved him off. "She already told you to get lost." Nia jumped up next to him, displeased with the situation.
"Don't hurt him, please," cried Helen, her voice tinged with panic as her head darted from Nia and him to Johnny.
"Well," said Johnny heatedly. "Time to decide, love. What's it going to be? Are you going to come back to me, Helen?"
Helen swallowed, then looked up at Johnny. "I want you to stay away from me, Johnny. It's over for us." Her voice was quiet.
Johnny's face turned blank before Alexander caught a flash of hurt flash across his eyes. He sneered.
"Fine," spat Johnny through gritted teeth. "I always knew you were a whore, anyway; you'll just move on to the next bloke the next day."
Helen's face dropped while Nia hurled curses at him. Alexander narrowed his eyes. A cry of pain came from Johnny's mouth as he was thrown backward and the compartment door shut tight with a lock.
Alexander smirked in satisfaction at the spell he muttered under his breath. Johnny's face and body erupted with painful blisters all over. He had to wait until he got to Hogwarts to remove them. Johnny glanced up and glowered hatefully through the glass before turning around and disappearing.
"You shouldn't have done that, Alexander," cried Helen disapprovingly. "You could get in trouble for it."
"Who cares," grinned Nia. "Good on you, Laurent. The prick deserved it. I don't know how you couldn't see he was bad news from the start, Hel."
Helen dropped her gaze to the floor. "He could be sweet when he wanted to be," she defended half-heartedly.
Alexander scoffed. Sweet and Johnny should never go together in a sentence. "Right, and Snape's a ball of sunshine."
ϟ 9
The sky grew darker, and the train was slowing down, but the rain showed no signs of relating. He was only thankful there was no thunderstorm. The three of them threw confused glances.
"We can't be there yet?" mumbled Nia in bewilderment.
"No," answered Helen, peering out of the window, though there wasn't much to see. "It's too early. I think something must be wrong."
"Maybe it's a maintenance issue?" Alexander suggested, furrowing his brows.
Nia got up to stick her head out of the compartment. "Looks like everyone's in the same boat as us," she pointed out. "No one knows what's happening."
The train came to a stop with a jolt, and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out, and it plunged them into total darkness. Nia screamed.
"Ni, stop! Look, it's only my hand," came Helen's voice.
"Oh, sorry," said Nia in a quiet, unsteady voice. "Don't let go. I don't like the dark that much."
The lanterns flickered on and off.
Alexander felt worried and fear bloomed in his chest. If the past two years have taught him anything, it was that nothing was a coincidence. This could very well be a plot against Harry. What if Sirius Black was planning on harming him right now? He jumped up, making sure his wand was with him.
"Where are you going, Laurent?" demanded Nia, a tinge of fear in her voice. "Don't you think we should stick together? I mean, haven't you watched horror films? I swear I saw something moving out there."
Helen also pleaded for him to stay, but Alexander made a promise to himself and his grandfather to keep Harry safe. He also hated the fact that Ron and Hermione were also unprotected.
He was surprised to find how steady his voice sounded compared to Nia and Helen. "I'll be back, okay? Just don't go anywhere."
Alexander lit up his wand and was about to step outside, one foot entering the corridor, when his gaze rested on something terrifying. Illuminated by his blueish light, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood.
Alexander's breath caught in his throat, and his eyes widened considerably. He stopped thinking even. Nia and Helen's fearful gasps echoed behind him. He knew what this was, his grandfather's voice in the back of his mind. But Grandfather had never told him what to do if a Dementor approached him.
An intense cold swept over him, travelling inside his very heart…
He couldn't speak. His mouth wouldn't move. He tried screaming, but it was as if no one could hear him. No one replied. He was all alone in a void. Deafening thunderstorms, louder than anything he'd heard before, sounded from all around him. Ropes were pushing against his chest, and Quirrell's bitter laugh echoed in the background.
Alexander trembled like a leaf. He fell to his knees and gripped the wooden panelling of the doors, desperate to have something to cling to.
Suddenly, there came a voice. Two voices. Arguing, it seemed like. He couldn't hear it clearly enough, as it sounded like it came through a tube. He could also see and feel Nia and Helen, who were there with him, but they seemed out of reach.
Wait. That was his grandfather's voice.
" – a whore. That's what you've become, Amelie. You've disappointed me time and time again." Grandfather's voice was cruel. There was no sign of warmth. " – you've proven it. It's clear that you are not of my blood. You are no daughter of mine and your child is a burden, unwanted. I will never love him, I swear to you now. He can die and rot and I will never bat an eyelash."
Alexander was drowning in the cold. There was a rushing in his ears as though his head were underwater.
Then came another voice. More broken and soft.
"Well, Father, I've proven myself a whore and you've proven yourself a monster. What a pair we are."
Alexander started choking; a thick white fog was swirling —
"Alex! Alex! Come on!" He felt hands shaking him.
He breathed in deeply and gulped down air as if he'd never breathed in his life. His head was throbbing and his chest ached painfully.
"W-what happened?" he asked shakingly, looking up at Helen and Nia's fearful expressions. He felt pale and his body was trembling. He stood up from his knees, placing a hand on the wall.
"You went all still," explained Nia uneasily, eyes wide with fear. "Like in some sort of trance. I don't know what that thing was but I never want to see it again."
"That was a guard of Azkaban," revealed Helen in an unsteady voice. "It sucks all the happiness and makes you relieve your worse memories and fears. I think they were looking for Sirius Black. Clearly it didn't find it here."
Alexander jolted back to attention. He took an unsteady step forward, ignoring the sound of his name being called. He had a tight grip on his wand, his eyes darting about everywhere.
He ran into someone again. This time it was the shabby-looking man who was asleep. Alexander was reminded of Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
"Hey, there. Are you okay?" asked the man, his voice hoarse. "I wouldn't be wondering about the train right now. It's not safe."
"Yes," answered Alexander, closing his eyes and keeping in a shudder. "I'm okay."
"Here, eat this. It'll help you." He snapped off a bar of chocolate and handed him a piece.
Alexander eyed him warily, not trusting him at all. A strange man right after the Dementors did not strike him as positive.
The man chuckled. "I'm you're new Defensive Against the Dark Arts Professor. Professor Lupin. Who might you be?"
"Alexander Laurent."
Something flashed behind the Professor's eyes but it quickly disappeared and he looked as serene as ever if very tired. Alexander took a bite, and a pool of warmth mingled in his stomach. He felt miles better already.
"Better?" asked Professor Lupin, smiling.
"Better. Thank you."
"Good. Well, Alexander, I better talk to the driver. Nice meeting you." He walked past.
As Alexander went, he noticed Malfoy through the glass. He was paler than ever and trembling. Alexander felt a stab of sympathy. It was Malfoy, sure, but those Dementors were horrible and he never want to experience it ever again.
He finally made it to his friends' compartment and noticed how jumpy they were as he sounded his arrival. Neville and Ginny were there as well, which made it a tight squeeze. He waved at them. Ginny smiled weakly.
Alexander then rested his eyes on Harry and was relieved to see him well enough. Hermione jumped up and hugged him tightly, knocking over Ron, who protested.
"Oh, Alex! I was so worried. You're fine, right?" She leaned back to run her eyes over him nervously.
"I'm fine," reassured Alexander, "and I'm glad you guys are as well."
"Did you faint?" Harry asked in a quiet voice. "When the Dementor came?"
Alexander shook his head, causing Harry's face to drop. "No, but I felt the worst I've ever had in my life." He shuddered but didn't elaborate on what he heard or experienced. "It was. . .awful."
Harry swallowed and looked up at him. "Did – did you also hear screaming then?"
Alexander frowned. "Screaming? No, I heard no screaming." What he heard was even worse, however.
"Oh, never mind, then." Harry deflated, appearing embarrassed as everyone looked at him apprehensively.
"Eat the chocolate, Harry," motioned Alexander at the piece Harry was holding.
Harry eyed it suspiciously but seemed to be more willing when Alexander showed him his own piece.
"I have to go, but I'll see you guys soon, okay? There's no space here for me to sit." He pointed at the crowded compartment.
His mind raced. This is what his grandfather meant by things changing at Hogwarts. What the hell was Fudge thinking assigning those creatures here? Was it his grandfather's idea? And how the hell was he supposed to avoid them?
19th October 1976
Slughorn has us rearranging and cleaning out the Potions cupboard together for detention. Prince and I.
This is so annoying and a complete waste of my Friday evening. I'm missing out on so much.
Also, Prince is being a complete and utter git. Not surprising. He's always been like that. I know we're supposed to get along, what with our families being friends, but I will never give my father the satisfaction. I would rather get a bludger to the face every day.
Prince is getting more insufferable every day. Can you believe he thinks this is all my fault?
I tried to make conversation with him during our detention. Just so time can grow faster. Slughorn had left for some reason I can't remember, leaving us alone. Prince, however, was as silent as concrete.
It's rude to ignore someone, so I tried everything. He would not ignore me. He still had a grudge, probably. Typical Slytherin. He was the worst of them.
I asked, to his face, if whether he ever tired of being the perfect son, such a perfect Prince, someone to carry on the legacy of his Pureblood family. I noticed his jaw clenched tighter. I continued: he might be an admiration to his parents, but he was a disgrace to his brother.
His brother hated him – the lot of them. And you know what was rich, I told him. I didn't think he truly believed in that nonsense. He just wanted to make his parents proud. Be their little lap dog.
As soon as I said it, I knew I've gone too far. I don't know why I said it. My mouth was moving before my brain could catch up. Maybe I wanted to get a rise out of him, I don't know. . .
But it was too late to take them back.
By the time I'd blinked, my back had been shoved up against the icy wall and a wand pressed up against my throat. His eyes held a storm, stiff and stone-cold.
He must have said something. I can't really remember the full gist of it. Must have threatened my live or something and told me to keep out of his business, which I knew nothing about. But all I knew and could see were those stormy greys.
He released me then, and I could breathe easier. But as he turned away, I saw the pain on his face and a glint of tears in his eyes. Just for a second, until his face was hidden.
I thought it kinder to not mention it out loud. I felt regretful to be sure, but the problem was I didn't know how to apologise. I knew I was in the wrong.
But I've never really been good at apologising. My father always said that a Laurent was always right.
We finished the rest of our detention in silence. And what a tense silence it was.
Hello. I am back. I apologise for the lateness. Recently, I got a new job, which tires me out and I haven't had time to write. Thankfully this meets your expectations.
Things are kicking off in this story. First encounter with a Dementor. Let me know what you think, and until next time!