Repercussions

October 1996

The whole fiasco surrounding the twins' party had a rippling effect that Alicia really disliked, but there was nothing she could do about it. It was her own fault for getting so wasted and nearly letting Lee take advantage of her.

For starters, Angelina had completely panicked. Oliver sent her a Patronus early the following morning, which woke her up while she was sleeping over at Corey's flat. That resulted in Angelina rushing home in a state of near-hysteria to check on Alicia. Ang was almost in tears because she hadn't realized Alicia was so drunk, and she insisted she never would have left with Corey if she'd realized Alicia needed her. She would have gotten Alicia out herself and cursed Lee's bollocks off for good measure. Alicia tried to assure Angelina she knew all of that. It wasn't Angelina's fault anyways. It was Alicia's own fault — she'd made her own decisions, stupid as they were.

Later that morning, Angelina disappeared without telling Alicia where she was going, though Alicia learned afterwards that she went to Lee's flat and gave him a piece of her mind. Which meant, early that afternoon, Lee appeared at Angelina's flat, begging Alicia's forgiveness. He swore he hadn't realized what he was doing and that he would never knowingly hurt her. She forgave Lee but told him emphatically that it wasn't a good idea for the two of them to try to be anything more than friends.

"We could be friends with benefits," he suggested hopefully, trying to smile at the weak joke.

Angelina lost her temper again and hexed him out the door, before slamming it behind him and ignoring his yelp of pain and the instant, desperate apologies.

Kenneth and Karen checked on Alicia later that afternoon, and she was grateful to them. She apologized profusely for causing them so much trouble. Karen insisted it was no trouble at all, because she knew Alicia would have helped her, too.

Alicia didn't get a chance to ask Kenneth about the strange mirror she had seen in his hand early that morning, though. About the moment she was going to inquire, he reminded her that she needed to apologize to Oliver for throwing up on him. She'd winced at that, but stepped out onto the landing and Apparated to Oliver's flat to do just that. And of course, Oliver was his usual self — he shrugged and told her the same thing Kenneth had that morning.

"Do you really think I'd let something like that happen to you if I could prevent it? You couldn't give consent, Spinnet. You were trashed. Just… don't get like that again, okay?"

Which, of course, just made her feel worse. She promised Oliver she would stay within her limit in the future. She meant it, too.

Chrysanthe Hayden was the most sympathetic of her friends when Alicia wearily told her what happened at lunch two days later. They were sitting on the ground in a corner of the small, gloomy courtyard at the Healer Institute, where most students took their lunch if it wasn't rainy. It was overcast and cold today, which had kept most students indoors, but both of them wanted the fresh air after a morning of stuffy, nearly-impossible classes.

"Merlin's arse, are you serious?" Chrysanthe cringed. She had been at the party that night, but she and Danny had left before Alicia got trashed, and she heard about it second-hand from Karen. "Sympathies, love. Same thing happened to me back in fifth-year; I got trashed at a party in the Hufflepuff Burrow. Danny and I had just started dating and we were having our first fight. I was stupid, got drunk off my arse, and a seventh-year tried to take me back into the boys' dorms. Danny went ballistic. He cursed Cameron Fielding so bad he ended up in the hospital wing for the night. Sprout was a brick though, she only gave Danny a detention for it, after he told her that Cameron was trying to take advantage of me and he was only trying to protect my virtue." She snickered, then added, "Karen got me into the girls' dorms and Bess snuck me a Hangover Potion before Sprout showed up, thank Helga." At that, however, Chrysanthe rolled her eyes. "But it does taste like cat piss. That's how Karen knows — she was with me when I had to drink that shite."

"I will concur," Alicia agreed darkly. "If I never taste a Hangover Potion again, it'll be too soon. I never want to drink that much again."

"You and me, both. Although it is tempting with this coursework." Chrysanthe sighed. "I can't seem to stay ahead of it no matter what I do."

"Please. Don't pretend you're behind," a high, thin voice sniffed scathingly. "You never have any trouble, either of you."

Alicia and Chrysanthe turned and frowned at Ellen Redgrave, who was passing beside them.

"Excuse me?" Chrysanthe asked pointedly.

"You heard me," Ellen huffed. "We all know Spinnet took ten N.E.W.T.'s and aced all of them. She's used to this kind of ridiculous work! And you were Head Girl. But some of us —" Ellen's lip trembled and she angrily looked away.

Alicia frowned. She'd never cared for Ellen Redgrave, who had always been a snob at Hogwarts, but now that she looked closer, the Ravenclaw from their year looked near to tears. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"No, I'm not! I'm feeling terribly stressed, if you must know! This is so much work and I want to succeed! You two could be a little nicer! Did you ever think I might want to study with you? No, of course you didn't. You two have always been thick as thieves helping each other, but —"

Another voice interrupted, this one snide. "Salazar's arse, could you be any more of a bitch? It's not our damn job to guess what's going through your head, Redgrave. I told you last week: we have enough to do without guessing shite like that. Don't blame them because you didn't study."

Courtney Vanhausen stopped next to them, her lip curling at Ellen's tirade.

Alicia stared between the two girls. She'd never known Vanhausen to stand up for anyone, least of all her and Chrysanthe, and it certainly wasn't as if Alicia or Chrysanthe needed her help. Alicia also hadn't been expecting Ellen to go off like she had. Was it just the strain of the program, or something else? It wasn't as if they had ever been friends with Redgrave.

Ellen clutched her books and gave Courtney a hateful look. "You can't tell us you aren't struggling, too," she shot back, finally letting a couple of tears fall.

Courtney smiled, a dark smile that made Alicia shiver. "Even if I was, why would I ever tell you? That isn't the point, anyways. The point is to see who can handle the workload and who can't."

Following that line of thought, Alicia added quietly, "Because if we can't handle this, we won't be able to handle being an actual Healer."

Courtney jerked her head towards Alicia, but kept her eyes on Ellen. "Exactly. This isn't Hogwarts. This is the real world. Suck it up and study or drop out, Redgrave. Those are your options. But don't blame us for not reading your mind, or for your mistakes."

Ellen glared at her, then angrily flounced off before anyone could say anything else.

Alicia wondered whether she should go after her or not when Chrysanthe leaned back on her palms and frowned. "What the hell was that about?"

Courtney snorted and shrugged a shoulder. "She failed the last test, that's what."

"Redgrave?" Alicia's eyebrows rose. "Failed the last test?" She found that hard to believe. It hadn't been an easy test by any means, but Alicia had made high marks on it — ninety-eight percent, actually —and Chrysanthe had made ninety-four percent.

"Yes," Courtney said, her lips curving maliciously. "And she's sulky because she assumed she'd pass, being a Ravenclaw and all. The fact that the three of us passed and she didn't? That really bothers her. I happened to see her paper before she shoved it in her bag. Back at Hogwarts, she used to make really high marks without cracking a fucking book. She was proud of it; bragged about it all the damn time. She thought she could do that in this program too — and it turns out, she can't."

Courtney's gloating expression was slightly off-putting, but the reality was that Ellen hadn't been any better. Ellen's emotional outburst at the idea that Alicia and Chrysanthe had deliberately left her out of a nonexistent study group had actually made Alicia feel a twinge of guilt before she suddenly realized how manipulative and underhanded the tactic really was, and then anger wormed through her chest. Vanhausen was right: it wasn't their job to guess Redgrave's thoughts, and when had Redgrave ever indicated she'd wanted to be friends with Alicia or Chrysanthe? Truthfully, Alicia didn't know Ellen at all. She couldn't remember a single instance when they'd had a conversation during their time at Hogwarts. Alicia actually knew Courtney better because they had both been prefects! They hated each other, sure, because Gryffindors and Slytherins rarely got along, but they'd also been forced to work together regardless.

Chrysanthe dusted off her hands and vanished her trash from lunch. "Well, she'll have to get over it. It's not like we have time to help her study."

Trying to tamp down her anger, Alicia said, "We've never even been friends with her. Even at Hogwarts."

"Which means," Chrysanthe replied darkly, "she wants to use us for her own ends."

"Duh. Of course she does." Courtney's eyes were still narrowed on the door Ellen had stormed through on her way back into the building. "Most people use others for their own benefit. Redgrave just isn't good at manipulation. Everything's always come easy for her, and now something isn't coming easy, and she's panicking. She put too much stock in her house placement; she can't bear the idea that a Ravenclaw would crack under the strain." Unexpectedly, Courtney's striking, green-blue eyes flickered to Alicia. "I heard you nearly did the other night too, actually."

Alicia stiffened. "What?"

"I heard you nearly cracked. Got trashed at a party because you were sick of studying."

There was a lot Alicia did not like about Courtney's expression. And how the hell had Vanhausen even heard about that party?!

Trying to sound unconcerned, she said, "I just made a stupid decision, that's all. What, never done that before?"

Courtney gave her a thin smile that did not reach her eyes. "Once, actually. So I do get it. It's easy to get trashed when you want to forget how much you have on your plate. But, I did wonder when I heard that through the rumor mill. And besides, I thought you liked Jordan."

Alicia rolled her eyes. "Lee and I are friends, but I don't like him the way you're implying, no."

Courtney's expression became appraising. "I always thought you did while we were in school. Who do you like, then?"

"When would I have time to like anyone with all the studying I have to do for this program?" Alicia vanished her own lunch trash, stood up, dusted her jeans off, and grabbed her satchel.

"That's not true," Chrysanthe said slyly. "I have Danny. It's possible to be in this program and have a boyfriend, 'Licia. You just need to find yours."

"Yes, well." Alicia glared at Chrysanthe. "It's hard to know where to start looking."

Courtney was watching them oddly. The last thing Alicia needed was for Vanhausen to guess anything, especially since Karen had guessed so damned easily. A Hufflepuff knowing her secret was one thing; a Slytherin was something else entirely. A Slytherin knowing was dangerous. Especially a pureblood Slytherin elitist who likely favored the Dark Lord's views.

Waspishly, Alicia demanded, "What?"

Courtney's expression didn't change. "Nothing."

"Obviously not. Just spit it out, damn it."

Vanhausen arched an eyebrow. "It just seemed like you two were carrying on a private conversation, which would indicate you do like someone, but haven't been in recent contact with him or know where he is. So that begs the question: Who do you like, Spinnet? I always thought Jordan had a thing for you, but —"

"He does," Alicia cut her off before she could finish her sentence. "But that doesn't mean I like him back. I don't know how many times I have to say it. I'm not interested in Lee Jordan that way."

Chrysanthe changed the subject before Courtney could ask again, thank Merlin. The former Hufflepuff grabbed her satchel and said, "Well, it's water under the bridge now, anyways. Everyone should get trashed at least once in life. So, want to study with us before our next class, Vanhausen? We have ten more minutes."

Alicia stared at her. What on earth was Chrysanthe doing, offering to let Courtney Vanhausen study with them? Was she insane?

"Thanks, but no thanks," Courtney said disparagingly. "It's not like we can help each other in this, is it? The program is too competitive for that."

Alicia's shoulders dropped in exasperation as she thought of how Pucey had always been a loner, too. She burst out, "What is it with Slytherins, always thinking they have to do everything alone? Is it some kind of toxic self-preservation requirement to be in that house? Do all of you think that way?"

Courtney actually laughed, and that startled Alicia so much that she just stared at her. After a second, Courtney grinned maliciously and replied, "You wouldn't understand, either of you. No one in Slytherin trusts anyone else if they can avoid it. It's too easy for others to stab you in the back. So yes, we do tend to do everything alone. We may claim to be friends with other people, but it's almost always an act. Nothing is free, not even friendship. People can be used, or they can use others; that's all." Her face relaxed slightly, and she gave them a more genuine smile that almost made her look nice. "Honestly? I do appreciate the offer to study. No one's ever offered me anything like that without an ulterior motive. But I have to be in this for myself. And besides, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't know how to even be friends with the two of you."

With that, she strode off with her head held high and her back straight, leaving Alicia and Chrysanthe staring after her. Alicia couldn't make her out at all. Being a Slytherin must be truly awful, she thought. She'd always assumed that most Slytherins formed tight-knit, cliquish groups; she'd never thought they felt isolated within those cliques. Was Courtney as lonely as Pucey had been? That was as unnerving as the entire previous conversation.

"At least she's honest, I suppose," Chrysanthe muttered, as Courtney headed back inside.

Was she, though? Was Vanhausen being honest? Alicia truly didn't know, and she wasn't sure how she felt about the discussion at all. It was both unsettling and confusing, having created more questions than answers.

Adrian hated taking back-to-back portkeys, but sometimes it was necessary when traveling long distances. He took the first one from Saint-Tropez to Paris, and the second from Paris to London. Once back in London, he Apparated to his parents' villa in the countryside, grateful to finally be home again. He had stayed in France nearly two weeks longer than he'd planned, returning on October 11th. That had been at the insistence of his grandmother, who was still worried the Death Eaters may have realized what he'd been up to back in July and August.

It was cold when he appeared in front of Pucey Villa, and he tightened his cloak around him as he hurried through the tall gates that had been charmed against outsiders, down the drive and towards the wide front doors. Damn, he'd forgotten how cold England was! He was already missing the mild weather of southern France…! Even if he'd been homesick!

The door swung open as soon as he came closer, and two of the house elves beckoned him inside. Adrian removed his cloak and his mother's favorite elf, Cressy, took it.

"Master Adrian!" she squeaked happily. "Mistress said she would like to see you in the family parlor when you arrived. She's missed you terribly. You's been away so long! We's all missed you, sir!"

Adrian smiled. "Thanks, Cressy. I'll head straight there."

His mother was writing a letter when he stepped into the family parlor, but when she heard the door close, she looked up and her face broke into a relieved smile.

"Adrian!" she breathed, hurrying forward to hug him. "Welcome home, mon fils. I've missed you so much! Did you enjoy your trip? Come, sit, tell me about it! Goodness, you look tired…!"

Alania Giraudon Pucey was tall and very slender, with beautiful black wavy hair, which was currently in a messy bun on top of her head. She did not look her age; her skin was pale and flawless, her eyes were a deep, dark blue, and it didn't matter what she wore, because she wore everything well. Today she had donned a stunning set of dark blue robes that matched her eyes. She could never resist looking fashionable, even within her own home.

"France was nice," Adrian admitted. "It was good to see Papi and Mamet."

"They are well?"

"Yes. They miss you, though."

She smiled wistfully. "And what did you do while you were there?"

Adrian hesitated. He had promised his grandmother he would tell his parents what he was doing as soon as he returned home. Did he want to tell them together, or tell his mother first and let her help him navigate his father? His mother tended to be very accepting of most things; perhaps it had been the free spirited way she'd lived before her marriage during the 1960's.

"Adrian?" she prompted, when he didn't answer right away. "Are you quite alright, chéri? You do look so tired, considering you've spent over a month in Gassin."

The worry and fear suddenly caught up with him. Without warning, he felt his body lean forward until his forehead fell against her shoulder. He felt the startled way her arms jerked to hold him and he whispered, "I am tired. Mum… I've done something and you're going to be a little upset. I'm sorry, I didn't know how to tell you before I left, and now…"

She hugged him for a moment longer before she eased him back into a sitting position and gently brushed his hair off his forehead. "I could never be mad at you, love," she insisted. "Tell me what's wrong."

He swallowed, met her eyes, and said abruptly, "I'm helping Professor Dumbledore against the Dark Lord."

He saw the way she hesitated as she absorbed the news. Then her face paled. He caught the way her eyes dilated slightly, the slight intake of breath she took. Adrian plunged on.

"He spent some time this summer teaching me Legilimency and Occlumency. All those society events I attended in July and August? I was trying to read minds around me, trying to see who had joined the Death Eaters…"

She sucked in a short, quick breath and her hands slowly pulled away from him.

"I found four new ones that way — Marcus Flint, Ivan Rosier, Julian Rockwood, and Brutus MacNair. Graham Montague and Miles Bletchley want to join up, too. That's when Professor Dumbledore asked me to go to France for a while. He didn't want to risk anyone realizing what I was doing. And also because… he believes the Dark Lord will want to recruit me at some point. I was the best in my year at Defense, and he said the Dark Lord wants skilled fighters. I'm sure he'll only want to take purebloods. I won't join him, but he'll —"

His mother looked stricken. She rose so quickly that he trailed off, and she began to pace the room, her arms wrapped around herself.

"I'm sorry," Adrian said, watching her apprehensively. "I should have told you sooner, but I didn't know how."

At that moment, the door to the parlor opened and his father entered. Adrian jolted. Well, damn. He'd managed to upset his mother, and before he could calm her down, his father was walking into the middle of it! There was no way out of this mess, now.

"Cressy just told me you had returned, Adrian. I'm glad you're home safe." Alexander frowned at his wife. "What's wrong, Alania?"

"Adrian," she grit out. "Adrian is what's wrong! Did you know he's been helping Albus for months?"

There was silence. Adrian clenched his fists on his lap and waited for the explosion.

But it didn't come.

"What have you been doing for Albus?" his father asked quietly.

His mother answered for him, waving her arm impatiently. "He learned Legilimency and Occlumency only to spend two months this summer reading the minds of all the elite at every event he attended, and then he reported back four new Death Eaters to Albus! That's what he's done! Risked his very life," she added hotly, before lapsing into rapid, sputtering French.

His father sighed in exasperation. While Adrian caught the basic gist of her rant, Alexander wasn't as fluent in French as his wife or sons. "Alania," he sighed, "I can't keep up when you talk that fast."

"I cannot help it!" she burst out, switching back to English. She turned to face both of them. "And do you know what's worse? Albus believes the Dark Lord will want Adrian!" She looked stricken again, completely beside herself, and her voice rose. "The Dark Lord, Alexander, may very well want our son! I cannot lose him because that awful, evil man wants to use him to torture and kill others! And suppose he tries to recruit Adrian, and Adrian refuses? The Dark Lord would kill him or threaten us! You know he would!"

His father turned to him. "Is that true?" he asked gravely. "Albus believes the Dark Lord wants you?"

Adrian nodded; his fingers felt like ice and he clenched them on his legs. "He said the Dark Lord will realize at some point that I'm quite skilled in Defense, and Professor Dumbledore felt that if any of my classmates joined those ranks, they'll likely tell the Dark Lord how good I am."

His father's expression was grim. "Then Albus is likely correct. So. You decided to help Albus before the Dark Lord could make inquiries, and after you relayed what information you could, Albus sent you to France for a month and a half to protect you?"

Adrian nodded. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner —"

"Why didn't you?" his mother demanded furiously. "Why would you think you could do this alone?"

He hesitated. He had been sure his parents would not want him to get involved with the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore because the stakes were so high. He was positive his father would outright forbid him to help because his father was a Slytherin. Yet it was his mother who was so upset; his father was taking the news far better, and Adrian felt wrong-footed. Worse, his mother had brought up yet another point that both his grandmother and Professor Dumbledore had also made in the last few months: he always tried to do everything alone. Wasn't that just what Slytherins did? Trusting others was dangerous.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I only know that I want to do something to stop this madness. I can't do much, but… I want to do something…"

"Can't do much?" His father's expression was unreadable. "Well, first of all, that's not true. You obviously did enough that Dumbledore was concerned for your safety and sent you out of the country for a bit."

"It's not like I was out there physically fighting against Death Eaters," Adrian muttered.

His mother snapped, "Oh, but I can see it in your face, Adrian. That's exactly what you want to do."

He flinched. "If I have to, I will."

"Alania," his father interrupted gently, because his mother had bristled as though she wanted to give Adrian a piece of her mind. "I wish he had told us, as well. But he didn't. He's telling us now, and we will have to decide how we want to move forward."

Adrian's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

His father met his eyes and said quietly, "I'm sure Dumbledore told you the truth, didn't he?"

When Adrian didn't answer, Alexander nodded once and went on, "We evaded the Dark Lord nineteen years ago and I kept our family safe by arranging for all of us to move to Gassin. But the same measures won't work this time. I cannot flee to France again. If I did, the Dark Lord would know I was running from him, and he might send someone to kill me, even if he doesn't need a potioneer anymore. So this time, I must stay in England, whether I want to or not. Atticus is safe in Paris, at least, but you are not safe. So, what will you do now, Adrian?"

"Dumbledore asked me to stay at home for a while. Keep a low profile." He swallowed as he thought of something else. "Oh," he muttered. "About Atticus… he's involved, too. He's trying to help Dumbledore by raising support in Paris."

His mother made a furious noise and lapsed into furious French again; his father closed his eyes.

"Alania," he finally said. "Even if Atticus is trying to recruit support, he's still removed from the situation." He turned back to his youngest son. "Adrian? I'm going to ask you again. What will you do next?"

Adrian's mind screeched to a halt. Had he not answered right the first time?

No, he thought. He had only given a short-term answer. He suddenly realized exactly what his father meant, and he straightened and met Alexander's dark gaze.

"Whatever Professor Dumbledore tells me to do," he answered in a quiet, firm voice. "I will fight if I have to." It both thrilled and terrified him. The gravity of his decision hit him all at once. But he couldn't — wouldn't — back down now.

His father sighed. "That's what I thought. Well. I cannot stop you. But I will beg you to stay safe, and ask you to please keep us informed as much as you can. We will always help you if we can —"

Adrian gave him a small, almost sarcastic smile. "Even if it means going against our nature?" He found that hard to believe.

His father's expression was unreadable again. "Even then. The Dark Lord will continue in this vein until someone stops him. I don't know if that person is Albus or the Potter boy, but if no one stands up to the Dark Lord, he will never be defeated."

"At what cost?" Alania asked, her voice dark and furious. "Before how many die, Alex?"

Alexander shook his head. "I do not know, but for now, let's allow Adrian to go upstairs and rest before dinner. We can continue this discussion when we've all had time to think. There are a lot of variables involved."

Alania glared. "You're just trying to pacify me."

Alexander offered her a rare smile. "I confess, I am. But it doesn't negate your feelings or your worry. Or mine." Then, turning to Adrian, he added, "Do not forget, we both love you and we worry about you. Try not to make us worry more than necessary, son."

Alania muttered, "It's far too late for that. Well, go upstairs and change for dinner, Adrian. We can continue this discussion then."

The discussion did indeed continue at dinner, and wasn't much more pleasant than before. At least his mother didn't switched to French, though. She seemed to have a better control over her emotions, though it was clear she was still angry. Adrian had explained all over again — exactly what he had been doing throughout the summer and early fall. He gave them more detail on how he'd roped Atticus into this mess, and even told them that his grandparents had helped him by taking him to society events in southern France in an attempt to recruit support. His father had merely listened without saying much; his mother had been quiet but upset.

Unexpectedly, there was a soft knock on his bedroom door. Adrian unwillingly pushed up from where he had been sprawled listlessly across the bed. He'd come up to his room after dinner and he hadn't moved for two hours. He felt drained, exhausted, and miserable, and he was sure he'd made a big mistake in all of this. It wasn't even the fact that he hadn't told his parents at the start — perhaps the mistake had been getting involved in the first place. Perhaps he should have refused Dumbledore back in June, when the headmaster had originally made the proposal to teach him for the purpose of using his talents against Voldemort.

"It's open," he said softly.

His mother entered. She looked resigned but much calmer, and she came over and sat beside him.

After a long pause, she said softly, "I'm sorry, Adrian. I shouldn't have gotten so angry with you earlier. I'm just worried. You're my baby. Even if you are eighteen, mon chéri. You're my baby. I can't help worrying, and this is so very dangerous. You're so young, still… and I don't know if you realize how dangerous this is."

"I do know," he replied, meeting her eyes. "I've been in Slytherin for seven years — how could I not know? I really didn't mean to upset you so badly. I know I should have told you sooner."

"Yes, but you didn't know how, and I need to remember that. I fear I didn't make it easy for you this afternoon."

"You're usually always understanding. This was the first time you weren't." He chuckled weakly. "It really threw me, Mum."

She gave him a small smile. "I'm sorry." Then she stroked his hair back and sighed. "I hate the war. I hated it the first time, worrying about your father and Atticus and you. Things were so dangerous then, you've no idea… We barely got to France safely. And I worry about the war even more now, because now all three of my men are old enough to fight." She shivered.

"Father and Atticus won't fight." He refrained from saying that most Slytherins would save their own skin if it came right down to it, but only just. His father had been more of a Slytherin than he ever was, after all.

But his mother shook her head. "How little you know them, then. Both will fight if it comes down to a pitched battle. And so would I."

Adrian immediately jerked, his gut wrenching at the very idea. "No, you can't —"

His mother rose and stood to her full height, a small, shrewd smile on her lips. "Oh, Adrian. Do not underestimate your mother. If my three men fight, so will I. Defense was one of my best subjects, too. But enough. Hopefully, it won't come to that. Get some sleep, love. You need to rest. You've carried a lot on your shoulders the past few months alone, without any help, and that saddens me. Your father and I will help you as much as we can now, so you don't have to do things alone anymore. Atticus, too." With that, she kissed his forehead, and turned and left the room, leaving Adrian staring after her.

He felt marginally better the next day. It was starting to snow a bit, just a light dusting, and it was pretty. He wondered if it was snowing more heavily in Scotland, and if the Hogwarts students were going to Hogsmeade. He thought of how nice it would be to have a warm butterbeer in the Leaky Cauldron on a snowy day. He rather missed that. He'd never had the chance to do that with Alicia, because it would have been completely out of the question, but he wished he could have. It was too bad he couldn't send her an owl and ask her to meet him there for a couple of hours, but that was impossible, too.

He spent the day in the library, sprawled in front of the fire reading, except for one time when his father came in.

Adrian sat up, but his father held out his hand as he closed the library door and said, "No, no. Don't get up on my account. I was just coming in to check on you."

Adrian crossed his legs and leaned back on his palms as his father sat down in the dark, burnished leather wingback next to the crackling fire.

"I was curious about something," his father finally said. "Why did Professor Dumbledore agree to teach you Legilimency in the first place? It is exceedingly rare for Albus to take students under his own wing."

Adrian blushed a little. "Oh. He'd called me into his office a week before school ended to ask me about something that had happened during my prefect duties back in April. I've been trying to teach myself Occlumency since second year, since I realized Professor Snape was a Legilimens —"

At that, his father snorted quietly. Adrian knew his parents did not like Severus Snape and never had. He couldn't blame him; Adrian had never liked Severus Snape, either.

He tried to find the rhythm of the conversation again. "I just automatically started building a wall in my head when I entered Professor Dumbledore's office. I did it out of habit, I guess. It surprised Professor Dumbledore. He said it was very unexpected and that I was quite good at it, and he offered to teach me over the summer so I could understand that branch of magic better."

"When did he ask you to help him against the Dark Lord?"

"That same day. He told me the Dark Lord would probably want to use my skills if he could, because I was so good, and Professor Dumbledore admitted he would like to use me, too. I knew what I was getting into from the start. I didn't go in blind, I promise."

His father nodded. "I'm glad to hear that, but I wouldn't have expected Albus to use you without telling you first. What was the issue with your prefect duties?"

Adrian flushed as he remembered. "I made a small mistake on one of my reports."

"That isn't like you."

"No," he agreed. "Professor Dumbledore was very gracious about it. I apologized and he told me my record had been stellar. He wasn't angry at me."

"What was the mistake?"

Damn. He had been hoping to get around this, but his father was too clever and shrewd. He knew Adrian was hiding something.

"I docked the wrong boy for being out of bounds after hours. It was just a simple transcription error. I had a lot going on that month, between prefect duties and studying for N.E.W.T.'s."

"Ah." His father looked back to the fire. The long pause was unnerving. "Well, don't be late for dinner," he finally said, pushing out of the chair. "Your mother is in a better mood today, thank heavens."

Small blessings, Adrian thought.

When he got to dinner, it was to find his father had been right: his mother was in a better mood. She smiled at him and said, "There you are. What have you been up to today, chéri?"

"Reading in the library."

"That sounds just like you."

As he took his seat, he noticed his father was reading the Evening Prophet, his face unusually grave.

"What's wrong?" Adrian asked. That look could be for anything. There had been plenty of mysterious disappearances, outright murders, and odd occurrences in the past few months. The Death Eaters had not been idle.

"A Hogwarts student was cursed today," his father said quietly, folding the paper. "In Hogsmeade."

Alania looked startled. "What?"

Adrian frowned. "Cursed? How?"

"They believe she was Imperiused in the Three Broomsticks. A friend of hers said Katie," at that, he motioned to the newsprint, "came out of the girls' bathroom, carrying a cursed opal necklace wrapped in packing paper, and started back to the castle. They got into an argument —"

"Katie?" Adrian sucked in a quick breath and stared at his father.

"She's a seventh-year Gryffindor," he replied. "So you may not have known her well. She would have been a year below you."

He accidentally dropped his knife; it slipped from his fingers and clattered against the china. His parents looked at him in surprise.

"Adrian? Did you know her?" his mother asked seriously.

"She's a Chaser on the Gryffindor team," he stammered, staring at them but not really seeing anything at all. "I didn't know her personally, but… I was quite good friends with one of her best friends, who was in my year. Spinnet and I were prefects together and we… got to know each other a bit last year," he finished lamely. "We were partnered together for a lot of patrols."

His father frowned. "Well, witnesses said she and another girl got in an argument about the necklace, and the package ripped as the other girl tried to take it from her. Apparently, Katie had a small hole in her glove and the necklace just barely touched her skin. It was horrendously cursed; they said it nearly took her life. Even so, she's in a coma and they're planning to transfer her to St. Mungo's as soon as possible."

His mother looked worried. "Do they know who did it?" she asked.

"If they do, they haven't said." His father glanced witheringly at the Prophet. "But I'm sure the Dark Lord is behind it, somehow. It's too suspicious to be random. Especially during these times."

Adrian felt as though someone had punched him in the chest. His mind instantly jumped to Alicia. She would be devastated when she found out. And he couldn't do anything to comfort or support her.

Author's Note: This chapter spawned an outtake which did not make it into the main story, but can be found on AO3 under my user name, Stolen Moments: Outtakes, Chapter 2.