Bookcozy: I agree for sure about that quote. Definitely used to cover some pain I feel like. I just love the twins so much honestly. No worries about not knowing what job she'll pick LOL. All of my hints prior to this have been very subtle.
Readerfaye: Fred's reaction was my favorite — he's so un-serious. I also wouldn't much want to be a prefect — at least not when they put so much pressure on them already in fifth year. My stress levels would be through the roof.
Also, I am updating now because I'm busy this weekend and I'm quite ahead again. I haven't proofread though because I have a migraine so apologies for any mistakes, folks! See you soon!
Chapter Eight
There was definitely an air of melancholy when Nessa awoke the next morning. Heavy rain was still splattering against the window as she got dressed in a pair of leggings and an oversize sweater. She hesitated briefly over her school robes, wondering if she were supposed to wear them to their prefect meeting, before deciding for comfort over propriety. By the time she had finally made sure her things were packed and repacked half of what Tori had shoved into her own trunk, she was forced to concede that there was nothing else she could do to avoid admitting that they were leaving for school again.
When she and Tori finally made the trek downstairs with their trunks and into the kitchen, Mr. Weasley was bending over the fire in the hearth and Mrs. Weasley was trying to hand him a piece of parchment and a quill. Mr. Weasley seemed frazzled, his robes on back-to-front and his hair sticking up in several directions. Amos Diggory's head was sitting in the middle of the flames, and talking very fast, sparks flying about around him.
"...Muggle neighbors heard bangs and shouting, so they went and called those what-d'you-call-'ems — please-men. Arthur, you've got to get over there — it's a real stroke of luck I heard about it," said Mr. Diggory's head. "I had to come into the office early to send a couple of owls, and I found the Improper Use of Magic lot all setting off — if Rita Skeeter gets hold of this one, Arthur —"
"What does Mad-Eye say happened?" asked Mr. Weasley, unscrewing the ink his wife was holding out for him and preparing to take notes.
Mr. Diggory's head rolled its eyes. "Says he heard an intruder in his yard. Says he was creeping toward their house, but was ambushed by his dustbins."
"What did the dustbins do?" asked Mr. Weasley, scribbling frantically.
"Made one hell of a noise and fired rubbish everywhere, as far as I can tell," said Mr. Diggory. "Apparently one of them was still rocketing around when the please-men turned up —"
Mr. Weasley groaned.
"And what about the intruder?"
"Arthur, you know Mad-Eye," said Mr. Diggory's head, rolling its eyes again. "Someone creeping into his yard in the dead of night? More likely there's a very shell-shocked cat wandering around somewhere, covered in potato peelings. But if the Improper Use of Magic lot get their hands on Mad-Eye, he's had it — think of his record — we've got to get him off on a minor charge, something in your department — what are exploding dustbins worth?"
"Might be a caution," said Mr. Weasley, still writing very fast, his brow furrowed. "Mad-Eye didn't use his wand? He didn't actually attack anyone?"
"I'll bet he leapt out of bed and started jinxing everything he could reach through the window," said Mr. Diggory, "but they'll have a job proving it, there aren't any casualties."
"All right, I'm off," Mr. Weasley said, and he stuffed the parchment with his notes into a pocket and dashed so quickly out of the kitchen that Nessa was forced to flatten herself against the doorframe so he could exit.
"What are they so worried about getting Mad-Head off for if he does this all the time?" Nessa muttered to Tori in confusion.
Tori snorted.
"Mad-Eye, Nessa," she said, sitting next to George at the breakfast table. Nessa sat opposite her next to Fred, who was spreading butter on his toast. "Not Mad-Head. He's a bit of a legend, is all."
Before Nessa could inquire further, Mr. Weasley was rushing back into the kitchen, his robes on correctly now, and dragging a comb through his hair, calling a hasty goodbye to Percy, Bill, and Charlie and Hermione and Ginny, who had yet to come downstairs.
"I'd better hurry — you have a good term, you lot," he said, fastening a cloak over his shoulders and preparing to Disapparate. "Molly, are you going to be alright taking the kids to King's Cross?"
"Of course I will," she said. "You just look after Mad-Eye, we'll be fine."
As Mr. Weasley vanished, Bill and Charlie entered the kitchen.
"Did someone say Mad-Eye? Bill asked. "What's he been up to now?"
"He says someone tried to break into his house last night," said Mrs. Weasley.
"Mad-Eye Moody?" said George thoughtfully, spreading marmalade on his toast. "Isn't he that nutter —"
"Your father thinks very highly of May-Eye Moody," said Mrs. Weasley sternly.
"Yeah, well, Dad collects plugs, doesn't he?" said Fred quietly as Mrs. Weasley left the room. "Birds of a feather…"
Nessa huffed a laugh at this and pushed him playfully with a roll of her eyes.
"Don't be rude," she said, rolling her eyes again when he grinned at her and slung an arm over the back of her chair. "It's sweet how much he loves the Muggles."
"Moody was a great wizard in his time," said Bill.
"He's an old friend of Dumbledore's, isn't he?" said Charlie.
"Dumbledore's not what you'd call normal, though, is he?" said Fred. "I mean, I know he's a genius and everything…"
"More than can be said about you," Tori quipped, resulting in a snort from George and an eye roll from Fred.
"Who is Mad-Eye?" asked Harry before Fred could respond.
"He's retired, used to work at the Ministry," said Charlie, reaching over to grab one of Nessa's sausages. She slapped him hard on the back of his hand and he swore. "Buggering fu —"
"He was an Auror — one of the best…a Dark wizard catcher," Bill finished for his brother as the table erupted in snickers. "Half the cells in Azkaban are full because of him. He made himself loads of enemies, though…the families of people he caught, mainly…"
" — and I heard he's been getting really paranoid in his old age," said Charlie. "Doesn't trust anyone anymore. Sees Dark wizards everywhere."
"Not to be judgemental or anything," Nessa said in confusion. "But I still don't understand why they're so worried about getting him off if he's really as paranoid as they say. Wouldn't they want to do something about him before he alerts the Muggles?"
"He's a legend. People would have strong opinions if they started charging him," Charlie said through a mouthful of toast that he'd swiped from Nessa's plate when she wasn't looking. "He's not exactly a danger to anyone, really. As long as you stay off his lawn anyway."
Nessa rolled her eyes at this response.
No, she didn't want to work at the Ministry; the politics behind each of the departments was a little too much for her. And not something she entirely understood either. The fact that there was a genuine debate about whether or not someone was above the law when everyone else was held to the standard seemed a bit backwards to her.
The rest of breakfast was spent watching Mrs. Weasley bustle around anxiously in order to make sure they all had their things ready for the trip back to Hogwarts. Bill and Charlie decided to come and see everyone off at King's Cross station, but Percy, apologizing most profusely, said that he really needed to get to work.
"I just can't justify taking more time off at the moment," he told them. "Mr. Crouch is really starting to rely on me."
"Yeah, you know what, Percy?" said George seriously. "I reckon he'll know your name soon."
Nessa choked on her coffee at this, but Percy merely flushed scarlet. He didn't seem to be as quick with wit as his other siblings seemed to be, and Nessa suspected that the twins enjoyed watching him flounder for a comeback.
Mrs. Weasley braved the telephone in the village post office to order four ordinary Muggle taxis to take them into London. Mr. Weasley had tried to arrange Ministry cars for them to return to the train station, but, with the World Cup so close to the school year, the Ministry had not had any to spare.
Nessa felt a bit badly for the taxi drivers, truthfully. It was pouring down rain still and the Weasleys' yard was patchy at best, leaving many places muddy and slick, as they tried to heave eight heavy Hogwarts trunks into their cars. Not to mention the animals — Pigwidgeon was making an ear splitting racket and Crookshanks and Peanut were spitting angrily from the rain. Nor did it help that a number of Filibuster's Wet-Start fireworks went off unexpectedly when Fred's trunk sprang open, causing the driver carrying it to yell with fright and pain as Crookshanks panicked and shot out of the car to claw his way up the driver's leg.
The journey was uncomfortable, owing to the fact that they were jammed in the back of the taxis with their trunks and the animals were severly upset. Nessa was relieved to get to King's Cross, even though the rain was coming down even harder now, and they got soaked carrying their trunks across the busy road and into the station. Nessa was entirely sure that she looked close to a drowned rat if Tori's appearance was anything to go by. The two of them were still dripping water when they leaned casually against the barrier, chatting unconcernedly with Fred and George. The four of them slid sideways through the wall and platform nine and three-wuarters materialized in front of them.
The platform was already packed with students and parents, the screeching of owls and frantic chattering of children telling their parents what they had forgotten to pack. The four of them set off to find seats on the train, which was already billowing steam and whistling every few minutes, and stored their luggage in a compartment near the front. By the time they hopped back down onto the platform to say good-bye to Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie, they were already saying their goodbyes to Ginny, Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," said Charlie, grinning, as he hugged Ginny goodbye.
"Why?" said Fred keenly.
"You'll see," said Charlie. "Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it…it's 'classified information until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it', after all."
Tori, who had grown incredibly annoyed by the hints they were getting from every adult at the Burrow that something was happening this year, crossed her arms with a scowl when Charlie came to hug her.
"If you're going to hint at it, you might as well just tell us," she said waspishly. "This is getting very old."
Charlie grinned and wrapped her in a bear hug, ignoring her clear attitude.
"You just wait and see," he said, patting her on her still dripping hair. "It'll be exciting, and that's all you need to know."
"Yeah, I sort of wish I were back at Hogwarts this year," said Bill, hands in his pockets, looking almost wistfully at the train.
"Why?" said George impatiently.
"You're going to have an interesting year," said Bill, his eyes twinkling. "I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it…"
"A bit of what?" said Ron.
But at that moment, the whistle blew, and Mrs. Weasley chivvied them toward the train doors.
"Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione as they climbed on board, closed the door, and leaned out of the windows to talk to her.
Nessa and Harry echoed the sentiment and she waved them away.
"Oh, it was my pleasure, dears," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'd invite you for Christmas, but…well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with…one thing and another."
"Mum!" said Ron irritably. "What d'you three know that we don't?"
"You'll find out this evening, I expect," said Mrs. Weasley, smiling. "It's going to be very exciting — mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules —"
Nessa laughed when Fred, George, Tori, Harry, and Ron spoke together next, their patience clearly lost.
"What rules?" they all said.
"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you…Now, behave, won't you? Won't you, Fred? And you, George? And you, Victoria?"
The pistons hissed loudly and the train began to move. Nessa gasped in surprise when Fred shot forward so hastily that he slammed her into the wall of the compartment by accident in an attempt to keep his mother in sight.
"Fred!" Nessa griped, holding her stinging wrist.
Fred hardly seemed to notice.
"Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts!" he bellowed out at the window as Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie sped away from them. "What rules are they changing?"
But Mrs. Weasley only smiled and waved. Before the train rounded the corner, she, Bill, and Charlie had Disapparated. Nessa pushed Fred off of her in irritation.
"Get off of me, you stupid oaf," she said. "You nearly took my hand off. What's the matter with you?"
"Don't play coy, Vanessa —"
"Do not —"
" — you love having me so close. You don't have to pretend just because it makes poor Georgie jealous," Fred finished, ignoring her usual retort of using her full name. George rolled his eyes and snorted, clearly not at all concerned. "No one would blame you, really, if you ditched him for me. Might make a bit more sense, actually."
Nessa snorted.
"I'd rather gouge out my eyes with a hot spoon," she deadpanned, shoving his arm off of her shoulder. "And that was nowhere close to an apology —"
"Well, don't you want to know what rules they've changed?" he said, opening their compartment and claiming a seat by the door, crossing his legs at the ankle in front of him.
Nessa shrugged.
"They said we'll find out tonight, didn't they?"
And, truthfully, she wasn't sure she wanted to know. Every time the rules had changed at Hogwarts, it had not been a good thing for her. Or her brother.
Tori sighed sadly.
"You've been a prefect for a mere two minutes, and you're already becoming a downer."
Nessa swore and shot up from her seat at the reminder.
"I have that meeting!" she said, swearing a little at the fact that she was still dripping wet. "I'll be back."
She faintly heard the twins and Tori make some sort of mocking statement as she left in a hurry, but she was hardly paying any attention, wishing she hadn't put her wand in her trunk so that she could dry off before she had to sit in a compartment with a bunch of people she hardly knew. The very front carriage had a huge, silver P on the door, so she assumed that this was where she was supposed to be heading.
She took a deep, slow breath and opened the door. Every head in the room turned to look at her as she entered and she tried not to feel too anxious about that. This was exactly the reason that she worked so hard not to be late to classes — the staring was horrible.
"Vanessa," said an older girl — a Ravenclaw, if she recalled correctly — who was standing at the front of the carriage, a Head Girl badge pinned to the school robes she'd already donned. Next to her was a Hufflepuff, his own robes and Head Boy badge shining proudly on his chest. "You're the last of us, so take a seat and we can go over everything."
Nessa wasn't sure if she was supposed to be apologizing or not, and her social anxiety was too much at the moment anyway to consider too hard, so she took a hasty seat in the only open seat — in the corner, next to the doorway, fortunately — and looked around her vaguely, in an attempt to pretend like she was entirely comfortable in this situation.
This compartment was bigger than the regular compartments, clearly magically modified, and was full with the other prefect selections. She was familiar with some of them — Cho Chang and Roger Davies. They both smiled at her politely and she nodded back — they seemed relatively good choices, from what she knew of either of them and likely worked well together, given their positions on the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team. The Hufflepuff prefects she only knew in passing, and she scowled at the choices for Slytherin — Tiffany Yearly and Kevin Bletchley. Tiffany was another of Adelaide Murton's friends, so she supposed she'd need to stay far away from her, if at all possible and Kevin was…well, she'd punched him in her second year for a reason, hadn't she?
Surprisingly, however, it was her own foul luck in the other choice for Gryffindor that caused her to gape in a shocked sort of horror.
Cormac McLaggen was grinning at her, his eyes traveling over her appreciatively. She wanted to smack him across the face for that action alone, but she was too busy trying to figure out if McGonagall had hit her head over the summer or if she were just in the middle of a nightmare. McLaggen was her least favorite Gryffindor in her year — he was arrogant, rude, and sexist, and seemed to be of the belief that there was no one in the world more attractive or skilled (at anything) as he was. She'd have chosen Fred as prefect before she'd have chosen McLaggen.
But he'd always been very good at charming the teachers, truthfully. She'd just assumed that McGonagall wasn't stupid enough to fall for it, but clearly she'd been wrong. Looking at him now, she wanted to throw up at the prospect of spending the entire year working with someone as foul as him.
"Now that we're all here," the Head Girl said again, her voice cheery and light. "I'm Bethany Yang and this is Tyler James. We're the Head Girl and Boy, of course, and we'll be your go tos for any questions or concerns you may have about your new roles. Now, I'd like to go over the rules and expectations very quickly. But first, congratulations to all of you on your new status! It's a great honor to be selected as prefect and we're excited to work with you all this year!"
Nessa shifted uncomfortably because, truthfully, she still wasn't sure if she'd warmed up to this entire thing yet. Or how good at this she'd be, really, considering her friend group. Between her and McLaggen, maybe McGonagall really had hit her head over break.
"That being said, we do have high expectations of each of you," Bethany continued, clearly within her stride. "You've been selected as the best and brightest of your Houses, and you're expected to set an example for the other students, first and foremost. If there are any issues with your behavior or attitude during the role, myself or Tyler will discuss things with you before taking it to your Head of House for further action. So, please be very sure that you understand the expectations set in this meeting to make sure we have no issues in the future and if you have any questions, please feel free to ask."
Tyler cleared his throat and spoke next, his voice soft and gruff.
"As Bethany stated, your primary concern should always be setting an example for your peers at all times. Younger students especially will look up to you, and it is your job to lead by example. Everyone is to be treated with an equal amount of respect," he paused at this and gave hard looks to the Slytherin prefects who could barely contain their eye rolls, "and decency. You will have the right to deduct House points from other students — please consider how severe a rule has been broken in order to determine how much or how little to deduct. We trust that you will be fair in these decisions, and will use your best judgment in these situations."
"The only students you cannot take points from are your fellow prefects," Tiffany continued. Nessa highly suspected the entire speech was rehearsed at this point, considering how easily they traded off speaking. "And your Head Boy and Head Girl. If you find that any prefect is abusing their power, you can bring that to mine or Tyler's attention, and we can mete out punishment from there. Should that not solve the issue, we can take it to your Head of House, who can determine if your prefect status is in jeopardy. I need hardly say that being stripped of your prefect status is a huge disappointment and makes things harder for all of us as we try to maintain order within the castle."
"You may also hand out detentions to your peers, should you feel this necessary. Again, this does not apply to your fellow prefects, and we expect you to use your best judgment in this as well. Should you give out any detentions, please let your Head of House know and they will determine when and where that student's detention will take place. That being said, the expectation is that you know the rules and uphold them consistently when you see them being broken. It is your responsibility to maintain them at all times, and to wear your badge on your school robes at all times. Additionally, you will be expected to patrol the corridors of the train when we return from holidays and the castle in the evening at least once a week to make sure there are no students out past curfew."
"Our 6th and 7th year prefects are patrolling the corridors of the train for the trip back to school, but that expectation will extend to all of you for any remaining trips, should you be on the train," Bethany said. "Tyler and I will make the schedule for patrolling the castle corridors and we will post that in the prefects' office on the 5th floor. You should check this every week in case we move things around. If there is a conflict in the schedule and you need to switch for another night, please be sure to find a replacement for yourself or the expectation is that you be present for that patrol shift. At no point, should any prefect be patrolling the corridors alone at night."
Nessa was truly starting to feel like this would be more of a hassle than a help. She had O.W.L.s to worry about this year without worrying about patrolling the corridors, and she was very easily overwhelmed. At the moment, her entire body was stiff and her brain was racing with the effort to try to figure out exactly how she would have to manage her time in order to make the entire thing work for her.
As if reading her mind, Bethany gave them all a hard look before saying, "Now we understand that this is your O.W.L. year and that you will be doing a lot of preparing for your exams. They are very important, we know, but they are no excuse to shirk your duties as a prefect, so manage your time wisely. Lastly, you are a resource for the younger students, especially the first years. At the beginning of every year, you will show them to their common rooms. If weather keeps us indoors during breaks or holidays, we will also be responsible for keeping an eye on them. We will also pick up additional responsibilities should the teachers request them from us, of course." She smiled at them all as if she hadn't just outlined a textbook worth of things Nessa was supposed to be thinking about at all times of the day. "Now, those are all of the more serious things, of course, but there are perks to being a prefect, other than being a student that your peers and teachers can trust. We do supervise decorating for Christmas, which can be a lot of fun. And we also have our own bathroom on the fifth floor. It is the fifth door to the left of the statue of Boris the Bewildered. Use it at your leisure — the password this year is pine fresh. This bathroom is for prefects and Quidditch captains only, so please do not share the password with anyone else."
"Alright, well, we know that was quite a lot to take in," Tyler said, sighing heavily as if he were the one who had just had to shoulder unwanted responsibility. "Are there any questions?" No one answered. Nessa wasn't even entirely sure she could think of any questions at the moment, considering she was still trying to figure out exactly how much free time she was going to have this year. "Alright, then. We imagine that you're all fairly familiar with the rules at this stage of your Hogwarts career, but we're going to go over them anyway to be safe. Here's a list of items Filch has banned from the castle…"
The next hour was spent going over Filch's banned items — some understandable and some entirely ridiculous and petty. She hardly wanted to think about what he would do once Fred and George started selling their products. Have a conniption, most likely, and she certainly hoped she wasn't the one that had to deal with him. The hour after that going over school rules and how they should be enforced, interspersed with several reminders that they should be taking this role very seriously.
She'd always followed rules because she didn't enjoy being in trouble, but she was seriously wishing she'd broken a few by the end of the meeting. She was getting a headache from stressing herself out thinking about how much work she was going to have this year, and she was entirely certain that she was going to regret this altogether.
When Bethany and Tyler had finally dismissed them, half of the trip had gone by and she just wanted to lay down and read until she forgot about her problems — even though most people likely wouldn't consider being a prefect a problem. Standing, she exited last as Bethany and Tyler remained in the compartment, discussing particulars.
"Great to be working together, Potter," McLaggen said from her side.
It took every ounce of her willpower not to groan or roll her eyes.
"Sure, McLaggen," she said as politely as she was able. "Congratulations."
He grinned at her lopsidedly. It was odd how George could smile at her like that and it gave her butterflies, but when McLaggen did it, it made her want to cringe.
"Well, it couldn't have been anyone else, really," he said. If it were anyone else, she might have thought he was joking, but she had become used to listening to his overinflated ego between classes. She tried to avoid him as best she could during the school year, truthfully. "I'm the best fit for the job, of course. I mean, Jones is afraid of squirrels and Walton barely talks at all. And, my uncle Tiberius is very close with Dumbledore, you see, so I was the first choice from the moment I stepped into Hogwarts, I expect —"
Nessa couldn't contain her eye roll this time, but, thankfully, she'd reached her compartment and had turned to slide the door open before he could notice. The noise in the compartment immediately stalled as the twins, Tori, Lee, and — to Nessa's utter distaste — Alicia, looked up to see who had arrived. Everyone but Alicia grinned at her.
"Our resident prefect!" Fred explained in mock excitement. "What took so long? Were you lot conspiring to stop George and I from pranking this year?"
"I tried to warn them about the two of you, but, unfortunately, they didn't recognize your names," Nessa said dryly in response, causing Fred to make an indignant noise. "And no, I have no interest in giving you the password to the prefects' bathroom."
"Not even to Georgie?"
Nessa rolled her eyes when George grinned and winked at her, even if it did make her cheeks pinken.
"Don't start, George," she said, taking a seat next to him.
"Who's the other Gryffindor prefect then?" Tori said, attempting to segue into safer territory.
"It's me, Hastings," McLaggen said from the doorway.
Nessa had been trying to forget he was there, despite the arrogant way he was leaning up against the doorframe. She'd hoped that no one acknowledging him would be proof enough that they weren't interested in speaking with him. Clearly, his ego had overshadowed his ability to read a room.
Tori gaped at him for half of a second, his grin wide, and his eyes traveled over her the same way they had Nessa in the prefect's carriage. Fred glared at him in reproach, but McLaggen clearly wasn't paying any attention. To be fair, neither was Tori, who had turned hastily to look at Nessa for confirmation. When Nessa merely grimaced, Tori gaped at her a moment longer before speaking.
"McGonagall must have been Confunded," she said, sounding as if she were only half-joking.
Nessa — who had seriously considered this option herself, but was well aware that she had to work with McLaggen for the next three years — coughed to hide her laugh. She'd very rarely seen Tori so horrified, but Cormac had always been a bit forward with her, no matter how many times she turned down his advances. Nessa was half certain that McLaggen saw her as some sort of conquest to be won, and it was the only reason that he tolerated her constant dismissals.
"Very funny, Hastings. I'm sure Potter and I will get along just fine," McLaggen said. "We'll be seeing a lot more of each other, I expect."
"Not a chance, McLetch," Tori snapped at him. "I don't spend my time around prefects —"
"Potter's your best friend."
"She's a rare exception that does not extend to you —"
"Plus, you spend plenty of time around Quidditch players, do you not?"
Nessa watched in amusement as the twins, Tori, and Alicia all shared a horrified look. McLaggen did not seem to notice that the silence that had encompassed the compartment was not awe, but horror.
"You'll be needing a Keeper, won't you?" he continued arrogantly. "I'm a very good Keeper, mind you. I'm good at all of the positions, really — been playing since I was six. Wood will be fairly easy to replace — you were fond of him, weren't you, Hastings?"
The words clearly had a hidden meaning beneath them, his tone more suggestive than curious. Nessa kicked Fred hard in the shin when he tensed and opened his mouth angrily to retort. George looked between her and his twin curiously, who glared at her and grumbled his distaste at her attempt to shut him up.
"Sod off, McLaggen, if you know what's good for you," George said sharply, instead of inquiring about his girlfriend and brother's odd behavior.
McLaggen snorted.
"Respect your superiors, Weasley —"
"You aren't his superior," Nessa snapped with a roll of her eyes. "And if this is the example you'll be setting for the younger students, you won't be wearing that badge for long, will you? Go brag to someone who cares."
There was a moment when McLaggen glared at her, her lack of support clearly grating on his arrogance, but he merely gave Tori a lecherous grin before sauntering off.
"If he makes it onto the Quidditch team, I will quit," Tori said immediately, pointing angrily at the compartment door.
"There's no way Angelina will let him come on as Keeper —"
"Angelina isn't captain," Alicia said, cutting Fred off with a confused look. "Neither am I or Katie. I sort of assumed Dumbledore had lost his marbles and made one of you three Captain. He wouldn't have made Harry captain, would he? Not when he's so young…"
They gaped at her as if she'd said something impossible, so Nessa was the one to answer, her voice cool and polite. She hadn't quite gotten over Alicia's behavior toward her the year prior, truth be told.
"Harry isn't Captain," she said. "He would have mentioned it."
"Well, who could it be then?" Lee said, his brows furrowing. "That's everyone on the team, isn't it?"
"This doesn't make sense," Tori said, shaking her head as if clearing it of cobwebs. "They can't have picked someone new — how would they know they could play? This is already a disaster, if they've forgotten about choosing a Quidditch Captain —"
Nessa snorted and rolled her eyes to the ceiling.
"Don't be so dramatic," she said, her voice thick with amusement. "I'm sure Dumbledore has far bigger fish to fry than choosing a Quidditch Captain. Especially considering what your family has been saying about them changing rules —"
"Oh, Merlin, what if they changed the rules for Quidditch?"
Nessa rolled her eyes again at Tori's horrified question. The twins seemed equally horrified by the prospect, so she didn't bother trying to tell a single one of them that they were overreacting to nothing. She had not much interest in Quidditch unless she was watching the game, so it hardly mattered to her what Dumbledore was doing.
Ignoring their chatter about what rules could have been changed and if they would even be able to play this year, Nessa grabbed her book from her trunk and tuned them out completely. But not before thinking that she'd be totally fine if they canceled Quidditch this year, so long as it meant she wouldn't have to watch her brother endanger himself every game.
Nessa hardly remembered the rest of the trip back to Hogwarts. The others had spent the final time they had left, debating about what rules could have been changed and asking Lee and Alicia if their parents had hinted at knowing anything. Any time not taken up by this was spent discussing the World Cup in great detail, so Nessa had hardly spoken until the train had started to slow in preparation to stop at Hogsmeade station. Not that she was really complaining — the time to herself helped bring her blood pressure back down to a manageable level and had distracted her from wondering how she was going to manage her time this year.
Fred snickered when she was forced to pin her prefect badge to her robes, so she kicked him in the back of the knee on his way down to the platform and he stumbled, swearing, as he tried to catch himself before he fell into a puddle, causing Lee and Tori to erupt with laughter and George to cough loudly. Nessa merely smirked when Fred glared at her.
There was a rumble of thunder overhead as the five of them hurried across the platform, the rain coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over their heads. Nessa tried her best not to let Archie get wet, but he was an odd animal and did not appear to care all that much about the water, squealing excitedly when a raindrop got through her protective cover and hit him directly. Peanut was not so pleased about the entire thing and was hidden and cowering in George's robes as if the water might kill her if it landed on her.
They were all soaking and grateful when they finally managed to reach the horseless carriages that would carry them to the castle. The carriage swayed dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale as they traveled through the gates to the castle. It was impossible to speak to each other without shouting, so Nessa chose to watch as the castle loomed closer and closer through the thick curtain of rain outside, its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering. The sight of the castle was always a sight to behold no matter how often she returned. Lightning flashed across the sky as their carriage came to a halt before the great oak front doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps.
Leaving their luggage behind, they hurried up those steps into the castle, heads hunkered down until they had managed to get safely within the Entrance Hall. The warmth of the castle enveloped her immediately within the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall, the magnificent marble staircase gleaming in the light.
"Blimey," said Lee, shaking his hair and sending droplets of water directly into Nessa's face. She huffed and shoved him in reproach, but he merely grinned at her. "Sorry, Ness. You'd think they'd have a better way to —"
Lee swore when Nessa shoved him again, ducking herself when Peeves came spiraling erratically down the staircase. A large, red, water-filled balloon soared over their heads and broke with a loud SPLAT behind them, sending a wave of cold water in every direction.
"Peeves!" Nessa snapped, as the water within the balloon splashed up into her ankles, soaking her socks and making her feet squelch in her sneakers. People behind them shrieked and started pushing one another in an effort to get out of his line of fire.
Peeves cackled in excitement at the chaos he'd created, sending Nessa a rude gesture for her admonishment. She didn't have the time to respond to him as the panicking crowd shoved them through the double doors of the Great Hall, the shrieking in the Entrance Hall the only clear indication that Peeves had not stopped his bullying.
"I'm never going to be dry again," Tori grumbled, twisting her hair in her hand and watching in distaste as water splattered onto the ground.
Nessa rolled her eyes and waved her palm over them all, muttering, "Exaresco." A warm wind blew over them, drying their clothes and hair immediately.
"Thank Merlin," Lee said appreciatively as the five of them took their usual seats, the three boys across from Tori and Nessa. "I feel a bit bad for the firsties after that. They'll be lucky if they don't drown in the lake."
"Lee!" Nessa scolded when a second-year gasped in horror at these words. "They won't drown, for heaven's sakes. You're scaring the younger —"
"Hiya, Nessa!"
Nessa did not need to look up at the small person who had taken an excited seat next to her. Ginny sat on the other side of George, grinning at her obvious attempt to withhold her groan at the excited, breathless voice that had spoken to her.
It was Colin Creevey, who cornered her at every available opportunity to ask her about Harry, who he thought was something of a hero.
"Hello, Colin," she said, the wariness of her tone sending her friends into snickers. Not that Colin noticed — or cared. "How are you?"
"Great! Guess what? Guess what, Nessa?" he said excitedly, but spoke before she could even begin to guess. "My brother's starting! My brother Dennis!"
Nessa tried very hard not to convey how unexciting she found this news. Two Creevey brothers at once felt like God's idea of a joke, but maybe Dennis was nowhere near as excitable as Colin. The twins and Percy were polar opposites, so maybe the same could be said for the Creeveys. She hoped.
"That's — er — exciting," she said for lack of anything better to say.
"He's really excited! I hope he's in Gryffindor! I've been telling him all about Harry — well, and you, I suppose! I hope you don't mind —" she did, but she didn't have the time to say so when he was chattering so excitedly. "I can't wait to tell Harry! Have you seen him?"
"Not since we boarded the train, no," she said, suddenly wishing her brother were around so that she didn't have to be talking to him. He was a sweet boy, really, and she felt bad for thinking so, but he was hard to talk to when he was always so excitable and awestruck. The younger boy was practically bouncing up and down in his seat, water squelching with each bounce and looking excitedly through the hall in order to spot her brother. "I'm sure he'll be here soon."
"You'll cross your fingers for Dennis, won't you, Nessa?" Colin said, focusing back on her again. "I can't imagine him being placed anywhere else! He's very excited to meet you and Harry! You'll cross your fingers, won't you?"
Tori had shoved her fist in her mouth at the uncomfortable expression on Nessa's face in an attempt to stop herself from laughing. Fred, George, and Lee looked torn between laughing and telling Colin to take a breath, but all Nessa could do was look imploringly at the doors into the Great Hall, praying her brother would walk through —
She sighed in relief when, as if in answer to those prayers, her brother appeared with Ron and Hermione, all soaking wet. He caught her eye and grinned, making his way toward them before he caught sight of Colin next to her. He stopped mid-way and turned abruptly to sit further down the table instead, hiding himself behind a taller fifth-year boy.
"Yes, of course, fingers crossed, Colin," Nessa said hastily, cutting off the younger boy's continued chatter. "You wanted to speak to Harry, didn't you?"
She pointed at her brother and Colin jumped up excitedly.
"Thanks, Nessa!"
She sighed in relief, feeling only slightly guilty that she'd outed her brother, when the younger boy finally disappeared. She shrugged apologetically when her brother glared across the table at her when Colin forced himself in between him and the fifth-year boy he'd been hiding behind.
"Christ, it's like talking to a raccoon," she said, slumping forward in relief. "You'd think the rain would have calmed his chattering."
"I don't think anything can do that," Tori snorted. "I'll bet him and Ginny just chatter about Harry well into the night —"
Ginny chucked her goblet at Tori, her face aflame.
"We do not!"
"Do so!"
"Do not!"
"Alright, alright," Nessa said, waving her arms between them. "If you're going to fight with each other then do it somewhere else. I've half a mind to rip my ears off at this point."
"And you yelled at me for scaring the ickle second-year earlier?" Lee said, tilting his head toward the second-year in question, who puffed up indignantly.
"I'm not a child!" he said, indignant by Lee's tone.
Lee gave Fred and George an amused look before facing the second-year again.
"That's the spirit, squirt!" he said, clapping him on the back so hard that he nearly flew forward into the table. Fred and George snorted, but Nessa glared at Lee.
"Switch with Ginny," she said, pointing at the youngest Weasley, who was sitting as far from the second-year in question as possible.
"What?" Lee said indignantly.
"Switch with Ginny or I will shove your head so far up your —"
"I don't think prefects are supposed to speak like that, love," George interrupted, face carefully stoic, but his eyes twinkling merrily in amusement.
"Spare me," she snapped at him before facing Lee again. "Switch with Ginny."
Lee rolled his eyes to the ceiling, but obliged, although not before he ruffled the second-year's hair again. Ginny smiled kindly at the second-year as she took a seat next to him, but the boy was too busy glaring and grumbling at Lee to take much notice.
"What good is being friends with a prefect if they don't look the other way when you have a bit of fun?"
"When you find out, you let me know," Nessa said to Lee in response.
Lee grinned at her and opened his mouth, but she was spared his witty retort when the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor McGonagall was leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall. They were chattering both from the cold and from nerves, their little bodies so wet that it appeared more like they had swum across the lake rather than sailed. There was only one boy who did not appear at all nervous — the smallest of the lot, coming in at the very back and covered in a huge moleskin coat that Nessa recognized as Hagrid's. The coat was so big for him that he looked like a toddler in his father's clothing. His small face protruded from over the collar, looking almost painfully excited.
"I'll bet my fortune that that's Dennis," Tori muttered, as the younger boy shot a double thumbs-up to someone behind them and mouthed, I fell in the lake! He looked positively delighted about it.
"Were we that small?" George muttered back, staring at the younger boy in disbelief.
"Nessa's still that small," Fred whispered, earning himself a glare from Nessa as the others were sent into hushed laughter.
McGonagall cleared her throat loudly and gave the group of them a hard look. Nessa flushed in mortification as people turned to look at them, but Fred and George merely grinned back at their professor and gave her a cheery wave. If Nessa was not mistaken, she thought she heard Dumbledore chuckle from his place at the staff table, and was even more sure that McGonagall was counting to ten in her head in an attempt for patience.
Once she'd composed herself, she placed the Sorting Hat on the four-legged stool that was directly in front of the staff table. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:
A thousand years or more ago,
When I was newly sewn
There lived four wizards of renown,
Whose names are still well known:
Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,
Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,
Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,
Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.
They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,
They hatched a daring plan
To educate young sorcerers
Thus Hogwarts School began.
Now each of these four founders
Formed their own House, for each
Did value different virtues
In the ones they had to teach.
By Gryffindor, the bravest were
Prized far beyond the rest;
For Ravenclaw, the cleverest
Would always be the best;
For Hufflepuff, hard workers were
Most worthy of admission;
And power-hungry Slytherin
Loved those of great ambition.
While still alive they did divide
Their favorites from the throng,
Yet how to pick the worthy ones
When they were dead and gone?
'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,
He whipped me off his head
The founders put some brains in me
So I could choose instead!
Now slip me snug about your ears,
I've never yet been wrong,
I'll have a look inside your mind
And tell where you belong!
The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished. The first years were practically cowering from its tattered fabric as if they half expected it to eat them once they donned it. Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment.
"When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool," she told the first years. "When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table. Ackerley, Stewart!"
A boy walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot, picked up the Sorting hat, put it on, and sat down on the stool.
"RAVENCLAW!" shouted the hat.
Stewart Ackerley took off the hat and hurried into a seat at the Ravenclaw table, where everyone was applauding him. He looked relieved to be able to sit without so many eyes on him.
"Baddock, Malcolm!"
"SLYTHERIN!"
Fred and George hissed Baddock as he sat down.
"Knock it off, the both of you, or I'll give you detention your first night back," Nessa hissed disapprovingly. George smirked at her and Fred stuck out his tongue.
Children, she thought.
"Branstone, Eleanor!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Cauldwell, Owen!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Creevey, Dennis!"
Tiny Denis Creevey staggered forward, tripping over Hagrid's moleskin, just as Hagrid himself sidled into the Hall through a door behind the teachers' table and took his seat at the staff table. He watched as the tiny boy wearing his coat placed the Sorting Hat on his head and the rip at the brim opened wide —
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Dennis beamed widely, took off the hat, placed it back on the stool, and hurried over to join his brother. Harry had somehow managed to extricate himself from Colin, who was now a few seats down from him, and she smothered her laugh at the relieved expression he gave her when the youngest Creevey boy immediately began chattering away at his brother.
"Colin, I fell in!" he said shrilly. "It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and pushed me back in the boat!"
"Cool!" said Colin, just as excitedly. "It was probably the giant squid, Dennis!"
"Wow!" said Dennis, as though nobody in their wildest dreams could hope for more than being thrown into a storm-tossed lake, and pushed out again by a giant sea monster.
Tori gave Nessa a 'get a load of this kid' look and leaned forward to mutter, "That's how annoying Fred and George were as children."
Nessa bit her lip to keep from laughing.
The Sorting continued; boys and girls with varying degrees of fright on their faces moving one by one to the four-legged stool, the line dwindling slowly as McGonagall passed the L's. Nessa shifted in her seat, wishing suddenly that she'd given Tori money to get food from the trolley woman while she'd been in the prefect meeting. Nessa watched impatiently as the students continued to be sorted into their houses and finally, with the last of them being sorted to Hufflepuff, the Sorting ended.
Professor Dumbledore pushed to his feet. He was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome.
"I have only two words to say to you," he said, his deep voice echoing throughout the Hall. "Tuck in."
"Thank God," Nessa muttered as the empty dishes filled magically before her eyes.
She piled her plate with mashed potatoes, green beans, roast beef, and Yorkshire pudding and had taken several bites when Fred spoke across the table.
"Is it safe for the rest of us to eat now or will you bite our hands off?"
Nessa gave him a long look. He and George were eyeing her in amusement, their plates still entirely empty.
"I don't particularly care one way or the other if you eat," she said after she'd swallowed her mouthful of potatoes and filled her goblet with apple juice. "You're grown men."
"Ah, yes," Fred said casually, dousing his now full plate in gravy. "We don't need food as much as you then."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, I'm to understand that it's important for a growing girl to eat to get big and strong, yes?"
Nessa glared at the stupid, smug grin that was taking over his face at his insinuation. Ginny choked on her mashed potatoes in her attempt to withhold her laugh and Lee and Tori looked away to keep her from seeing their laughter. George was grinning, but, wisely in her opinion, kept his mouth shut.
Nessa eyed her spoonful of mash thoughtfully before looking back up at a still very smug Fred Weasley. He grinned wider and grabbed his pumpkin juice to take a sip, raising a challenging eyebrow at her.
"Careful, darling," he warned. "I throw my food back."
Nessa did not need to know exactly how he could be so sure of that in order to believe this to be true. Despite this, there was a large part of her — a very large part of her — that wanted to fling her mashed potatoes at him anyway. Even if it did result in the worst food fight Hogwarts had ever seen.
Ultimately, however, she just rolled her eyes and chose not to take the risk. The last thing she needed was to explain to Bethany and Tyler that she'd started a food fight because she had insufferable friends. By the time puddings had been demolished, she hardly even remembered why Fred was so annoying anyway.
As soon as the gold plates were sparkling clean again, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.
"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle this year has been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."
Fred and George snorted, and the corners of Dumbledore's lips twitched as if he had no doubt that there would be not a single student to check this list.
"As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."
"What?" Tori said loudly, causing several people to giggle and look over at them.
Nessa might have, under normal circumstances, scolded her for interrupting Dumbledore's speech, but, as it were, she was staring in concern at her friends and her brother down the table. Harry looked horrified and the twins were mouthing soundlessly, apparently too appalled to speak.
"This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy — but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts —"
But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open. Nessa jumped harshly and turned to look at the person in the entryway. A man stood there, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled to look at him, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the black and purple ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table.
A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Ginny gasped and Nessa reared back in surprise. Tori swore under her breath behind her.
The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any Nessa had ever seen before. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces were supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was his eyes that made him truly frightening.
One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was made of some sort of metal, clearly some sort of contraption that had been used to replace the eye that Nessa hoped was still beneath and just no longer worked, although based on the look of the rest of him, she had severe doubts. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye — and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness.
Something about him felt…off. Nessa couldn't quite put her finger on why — although she hoped to God she hadn't become the kind of person that judged a person's character based on appearance alone. But she was fairly certain it wasn't that…She was almost certain that she watched that blue eye move over and over again, but it paused only twice.
Both times in the direction of her brother behind her.
She was being insane, really. There were several people behind her. He could have been looking at Hermione or Ron or the excitable Creevey brothers. She had no cause to believe that this man was a threat to her brother at all, and she had been on edge all of the summer. Overreactive. Touchy. Afraid of any stranger who looked at her or her brother for even a moment too long. She hardly knew this man at all and he'd not even done anything even remotely suspicious at this point — everyone did a double take when it came to Harry, so this was really nothing new.
It was nothing, she was sure of that.
"Vanessa!"
Nessa startled and looked over at Tori, who was eyeing her in shock.
"What?"
"What do you mean, what?" she hissed. "Your hair!"
Nessa looked down at her shoulders and gaped for a second in surprise. Strands of her hair were floating upward as if being pulled by static electricity, floating around her of their own will. Her fists were clenched on her thighs and now that she wasn't panicking and staring at the scary man at the staff table, she could feel the magic coursing through her body as if it were a live wire she could barely control.
She relaxed her fists immediately, closing her eyes and taking several, slow breaths in an attempt to control herself before there was another accident like there had been in Hogsmeade with the tree branch the year prior.
"What the hell was that?" Tori hissed when Nessa opened her eyes again and sighed in relief when her hair had fallen back to its normal position.
Nessa shook her head, slowly, grateful, at least, that only the twins and Tori were eyeing her in concern. The last thing she needed was for the entire school to know that she couldn't control her magic sometimes.
It made not an ounce of sense to her, however. Accidental magic was not common in older wizards, and typically only happened under extreme duress or strong emotions. Her anger at her brother for wanting to risk his life in Hogsmeade had resulted in the snapping of a very large tree limb. Her fear and anger at the thought of her brother dying had resulted in a much stronger spell in the Acromantula den.
These things made sense to her, of course. Emotion and magic were very strongly correlated and she'd known this in her first year. She'd gotten far too engrossed in a book that explained the depths of magic and how to challenge the limit most wizards thought they had. She'd been curious and lonely at the time — a dangerous combination of emotions — and had started teaching herself harder spells than most of her classmates were learning in an attempt to test this theory. It had worked, of course. And was a big reason why wandless magic was so easy for her to master — she'd pushed and pushed the last four years (last year being the worst of them) until she'd extended that limit little by little.
There had been — there was — a sort of relief, a sense of strength and calm, that came with knowing she could exert more magic than she likely should have been able to at her age. Certainly more than she was being taught by her teachers. And once that feeling had settled, chasing the power of it had become like an addiction she couldn't shake. Her overwhelming anxiety and distress the year prior had been from more than just a trauma response to the trunk, but also a response to how hard she'd been pushing that limit in an attempt to get that sense of power back after Murton and her friends had overpowered her. After they'd taken something away from her.
But did she have less control of her magic because of it? And what had set it off now, if not a strong sense of emotion? She wasn't angry and her fear of this stranger was not so strong that it would have caused such a reaction.
What was the catalyst, if it wasn't anger or fear, as she'd previously assumed? Was there a catalyst? Or had she pushed herself so far that she risked having a magical meltdown every single time she lost concentration?
"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Nessa startled out of her worried thoughts at the sound of Dumbledore's voice. "Professor Moody."
The words themselves were enough to bring her out of her stupor, considering their earlier conversation about the man before they'd left for the train station this morning. Her eyes swiveled to find the man she'd been previously so frightened of — now feeling a bit ridiculous for this, of course, because he was an Auror, for Christ's sake — but her eyes snagged on cold, black ones halfway down the table and she started again.
Professor Snape had always taken a particular interest in her — a result of her looking so similar to her mother, she'd learned the year prior — but he was looking at her now in a detached, shrewd sort of way.
Had she not just had an odd magical reaction, she might have found this odd. As it was, she stared back at him much longer than she likely should have before remembering that she didn't like him at the current moment because of what he'd done to her godfather the previous year. As the thought hit her, she gave him a cold look and looked away from him, focusing on the professor she was most interested in instead.
It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students clapped, except Dumbledore and Hagrid. Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long draught from it. Odd as Nessa found this behavior to be, she had no time to dwell on it, because, as he'd lifted his arm to take a drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, revealing his leg. Or what was left of it —- the bottom half was carved and wooden, ending in a clawed foot.
Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."
Truthfully, I was not going to end it here, but I have already let this chapter get away from me. There are likely parts I could cut out in order to get to the end of Dumbledore's announcement, but considering the twins' involvement in the ordeal, I'll stop here for now. Because I have no self-control, I'll post the next chapter too so there's no awkward gap.