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“Where are you taking me?” Alice couldn’t hide her amusement and, in truth, she wasn’t trying to. Let him see how ridiculous he is acting once again, she thought with a half-smile as she followed him. She realised the double meaning of her question only after speaking the words, and, for a moment, she felt the familiar sense of panic rise inside her chest again.
Yes, where was he taking her? Or rather, where would the future take her? Where would it take them? It was something she’d fretted about for months. She hardly knew what a life without school would look like. Not so long ago, she and Jasper had joked about it: what would they do once there were no Quidditch matches to hold, no essays to write, no exams to study for? Yesterday, she’d wandered the school grounds on her own, her mind deep in thought, contemplating that exact same question. She’d visited all the places she’d grown to love over the years: the greenhouse, Hagrid’s home, the Great Hall, even the dungeons. She knew Jasper had done the same: saying goodbye to the places he would miss. Only they were different from hers. This morning, when they had spoken about it, he’d told her he’d been at the Whomping Willow, the Shrieking Shack, the Quidditch Stadium.
What was he going to do without the constant glory and admiration that Quidditch had brought him, she wondered? Would it be enough, that simple life she envisioned for them? Would he get bored of her after a while? Or would their paths diverge now, maybe not right away, but slowly, gradually over the next months? Maybe their differences would prove too large after all, now that the one thing binding them together—school—was over.
She had not told him about these worries, and she knew he wouldn’t listen to them if she brought them up. He always spoke of their future as if it was set in stone. Alice had not had the heart to tell him that she was far less certain.
He turned around at that moment to look at her, and his smile started to fade away when he saw her expression.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
Again, she did not want to ruin his good mood. He had been eager for school to end, unlike her. And that although she knew that he was uncertain about some things, too. He had applied for a position at the ministry only a few days ago and had not heard back from them yet. Perfectly normal, she’d told him. They would be fools not to hire him. She’d really meant it. The low opinion she’d once had of him was gone, replaced by a deep love she felt for the person he truly was.
Yes. She did not have trouble admitting it anymore: she was hopelessly in love with him. Probably more than he knew. They had spoken of the future many times during the last few months, and she knew he wanted to be with her forever. But they were young. Things might change. He might not feel the same way about her in a year or two. Maybe he would meet someone else. He was her first love, and she was giddily infatuated, almost embarrassingly so, but that still didn’t make her a fool. She knew that these relationships were not necessarily bound to last.
She shook her head and forced a smile. “Nothing. I’m just… sad, I guess. Sad because we’ll never be on this train again.”
Some other students walked past them, and they had to press their backs against the windows of the compartment car to make room for them. Jasper had interlaced their fingers back when they had been standing on the platform and had not let go ever since. She didn’t mind.
“I think it’s a good thing, Brandon,” he said with a grin when they continued walking. “I certainly won’t miss teachers yelling at me all the time. Or homework! Thank Merlin that I’ll never have to do homework again.”
She rolled her eyes. “You never did do the homework anyway. You mostly just copied mine after we started dating and before that… well, I’m sure there was some other poor soul who had to do it for you.”
“Lies.” He pretended to be offended. “I did not copy your Transfiguration homework. I hate to bring this up again, but it was… not fit for my high standards.”
Alice blushed and glared at him, although she knew he was just toying with her. “How dare you?”
“Relax,” he said and pulled her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You are still the brightest witch in our year. Although… I did help you pass that exam.” He ducked her playful punch so that it didn’t hit his shoulder.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said dignified and pulled her hand away. Instead, she crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I did not need any help whatsoever.”
The trick worked, as it usually did. Jasper hated seeing her upset with him, even if she was just messing around. He stepped closer and pulled her against his chest, completely ignoring the fact that he was blocking the way for a couple of first-years who were trying to squeeze past them in the narrow corridor.
“Don’t be mad, love,” he whispered into her hair. “You’re right, of course, you could have done it without me. I’m just glad you asked for my help. A guy likes to feel like he’s needed.”
She gave in then, because there was that undertone in his voice that she’d grown to hate: it was dripping with deep, although unfounded worry; that she would leave, that she would go back to hating him if he wasn’t constantly on his best behaviour around her. This tone had once caused her to ask him if he didn’t trust her to stand by her choices. He’d admitted that he still didn’t understand why she had changed her mind about him in the first place; he didn’t feel as if he deserved her, somehow. It had broken her heart to hear him say it, and she’d promised herself she would show him how much she didn’t regret opening up to him last year, finally giving him a chance.
“No,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest. “I couldn’t have done it without you.” It was the truth. He had been a huge help and she still hated Transfiguration like the Dragon Pox.
Before he could say anything or protest, she pulled away and grinned at him. “Also, we’re kind of blocking the way here.”
That mischievous smile she’d grown to love (and fear) reappeared on his face. “Let them wait.”
Alice rolled her eyes at him again, and ignored his attempt to kiss her, instead weaselling out of his grasp. “Come on, let’s find a seat. We’re probably almost at the end of the train by now.”
Jasper shook his head—which she couldn’t see, but she knew he was doing it—and caught up with her again. He sped up his steps and walked past her so that he was once again leading the way. Alice stopped again, and glanced at him with a look full of suspicion.
“What are you up to?”
His face displayed nothing but pure innocence. She narrowed her eyes.
“Nothing?” he said. It sounded more like a question.
Alice looked around, not sure what exactly she was searching for. For Emmett and the other Marauders to jump out of some dark corner to frighten her? Some kind of spell that they had cast, a last prank, an homage to their unofficial positions as troublemakers at Hogwarts? She should have guessed they would do something. Of course: The Marauders would only go out with a bang, anything less was unacceptable for people with their reputation.
“Jasper,” she began, her tone threatening. But he only laughed.
“We haven’t planned any pranks if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m not sure I believe you.”
He curled his lips. “So distrustful. But thankfully, you won’t have to worry for much longer, because we’re almost here.”
“Where?”
Right on cue, he opened the doors of the next compartment car. “Here.”
It was empty, which was nice, but Alice still had no idea why they couldn’t have picked one of dozen other coaches they had passed since stepping on the train. “Okay…?” she said a little unsurely as she looked around. She was afraid to sit down—Jasper had never played a prank on her since they’d started dating, but the same could not be said about Emmett.
Jasper chuckled again when he saw her face. But there was something else there… a hint of another emotion he was trying to hide. She knew him well enough by now to know every single nuance of his facial expressions, every little twitch of muscle, every spark in his eyes. He was clearly nervous, but she didn’t know why.
A small part of her brain went—as usual—to the worst possible scenario she could imagine: He’d had the same thoughts she’d had: He was worried about their future. He was going to break up with her. Deep down she knew she was being unreasonable, but her heart sped up, nonetheless.
“What is it, Jazz?”
He looked up from the hands he’d been staring at, his fingers fidgeting. He’d closed the doors behind them, and some students were walking past their coach in search of free seats, but none came in. Her eyes flickered between Jasper and the window, as if she was looking for a way to escape if this conversation took the wrong turn.
If he had planned to break up with her, her rational mind tried to reason, he wouldn’t do it just minutes after they got on the train. He would have waited until they had reached London.
“I don’t know if you remember this,” he began. He was not avoiding her gaze anymore. Instead, he was looking straight at her so intensely that it made her cheeks burn. “But this was where we first met.”
It took her a few seconds to understand where he was going with this, to remember, but when she did, she stared back at him, her mouth open.
He was right. All these years ago, she and James had sat in this exact compartment car, on the way to their first year at Hogwarts. She knew it for certain because he’d engraved their names in the soft wood of the armrest next to the windows. Her eyes flew to the mark now to check. It was there: it read ‘James and Mary-Alice were here’—very childish now that she thought of it—and she felt the familiar sick feeling in the pit of her stomach: Back then, she and James had been the best of friends, ready to take on the world together. They had picked this coach on purpose, in the back of the train, so that they would not be disturbed by other people. She had asked him a million questions about Hogwarts and he’d told her everything he knew about it. They’d both been so excited. It had felt as though there was nothing they couldn’t do together. Of course, they had also felt very grown up at the time, and the memory made her smile a little. Oh, they hadn’t known anything.
But Alice had also met some of her other fellow students on that day. Many people had walked past their coach, and only some of them had stuck their noses inside. Jasper and Emmett had been two of the people that did, both of them clearly looking for something. What, she hadn’t known at the time, and—as she noticed now—she still had no idea.
“What were you looking for? On that first day?” she asked Jasper, whose mouth turned into a grin.
“The Honeydukes Express, of course,” he said as if it was common knowledge. “We didn’t know that it was a food trolley, we thought it was a whole compartment of the train.”
She laughed at his words. “Of course.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.
“But as it turns out, I found something even better that day,” Jasper said, his voice turning serious again. Her laughter subsided, too. She remembered it well, that first glimpse of Jasper she’d seen on that day. His blond locks had been even messier and a lot longer than they were now; they had fallen down to his shoulders at the time. She’d wondered how his eyes could be golden—magic? She’d never met anybody with golden eyes before. And she’d noticed that he was handsome, even then, standing next to Emmett with his wand in his hand and looking at her and James suspiciously.
“A nemesis?” she joked half-heartedly to ease the mood, but Jasper didn’t react. He just shook his head slowly. He seemed determined to say what he’d planned to say.
“You.” His eyes met hers again. At some point she couldn’t remember, he had taken both of her hands because he was holding them now, and Alice swallowed audibly. She could feel how nervous he was, and it made her feel tense in return as if he was projecting his feelings onto her as well.
“We hated each other,” she said. “That first meeting didn’t exactly go well.”
“Speak for yourself.” His wry smirk eased her doubts considerably. He was not going to break up with her. She felt foolish for ever thinking he would. “I didn’t hate you. I thought you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen,” Jasper said. “I won’t say that I have always loved you…”
She groaned in feigned annoyance, making him laugh again. “But the truth is, I probably have,” he went on, unblinking. “I didn’t know what love was at first, and it took me some time to realise it…”
“Some time,” Alice repeated incredulously. “More like ‘a long time.”
But Jasper was not easily swayed. “It took me a long time to realise it,” he corrected, “but I haven’t looked back ever since. Alice…”
To her utmost shock, he knelt in front of her, on the grubby green carpet. An irrational part of her brain remembered how James had spilt his pumpkin juice on that first ride to Hogwarts, and she wanted to warn Jasper—she had given him the trousers he wore under his robes for Christmas, and she was very fond of them—but she was rendered immobile and incapable of speaking. This could not be happening, she thought. This had to be some kind of prank. Her old instincts resurfaced. He would get up in a second and laugh at her facial expression. Emmett and Seth and Ben would just peek through the window, all of them cracking up at her foolishness. This couldn’t be true. They were eighteen. They had only finished school yesterday. He couldn’t really…
But there was no hint of mischief in his eyes, not this time. He reached inside the pocket of his robes and pulled out a small, velvet box.
Oh, Merlin’s beard, Alice thought. He’s actually serious about this.
She wondered if he could tell how utterly flabbergasted she was. Whether he noticed it or not was unclear, because he carried on with his speech, “I know we are young, but… I know what I want.”
Alice couldn’t remember how to breathe.
“I love you, Alice. Marry me. We don’t have to do it this year if you think it’s too soon, or even in the next. Just… promise me that you will.”
For one awful long moment, she couldn’t find her voice. Her vision was starting to get blurred by unshed tears. Her throat felt constricted. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Jasper looked unsure suddenly as if considering for the first time that she could actually reject him.
Then Alice hauled him to his feet and stared up at him. Her voice shook slightly when she said, simply but with determination: “No.”
Jasper looked as though his knees were about to give in. His eyes were wide. “No?”
It was obvious that he had not expected that reply.
“No,” he said again, this time more to himself. He tried to withdraw his hands and averted his eyes, but she didn’t allow him to move away from her.
“No,” she repeated, and the tears were running down her cheeks now. “Because I promised myself I would never say ‘yes’ to you, don’t you remember? I can’t break that promise.” She laughed then, and his eyes flew back up to meet hers. The hope she saw in them made her heart flutter. She decided not to torture him any longer. “But of course, I’ll marry you.”
His jaw dropped open; she couldn’t help but giggle at his expression. It was a mixture of outrage, joy and confusion. “You—” he started but couldn’t finish the sentence.
“I want to marry you,” she repeated and drew him close, wrapping both arms around his waist and burying her head in his school robes again. This was her favourite place on earth, her cheek pressed against his chest, her body enveloped in his arms. “Although this year might be a bit too early. There’s so much we have to prepare.”
“Brandon, I can’t believe you.” He’d finally regained his voice. “You gave me a heart attack just now.”
She grinned, her lips hidden against the fabric of his robes. “Sorry.” She pulled away. As she looked up at his face, she saw that he was crying, too. “Can I try on the ring?”
He stared at her blankly for a second until she wiggled her fingers in front of his face. Then he hurried to open the box as if he were afraid that she would change her mind. He took out the ring and Alice gasped. It was beautiful—golden, a simple, modest design and just one, red stone. She loved it the second she laid eyes on it: it looked like him. Red and golden; Gryffindor’s colours. Jasper’s colours.
“I love it,” she whispered as he put it on her finger.
“It belonged to my mother. And grandmother. And many other generations of Whitlocks.”
It fit perfectly. When she voiced that thought out loud and gazed at him with amazement, she realised that his cheeks were flushed.
“What?”
“I may have… put it on your finger one night to check if it fits,” he admitted. Alice could just stare at him. “When?” was all she asked.
“A few months ago.”
“You’re insane.” Her voice was gentle, and she shook her head with a grin. She couldn’t believe him sometimes. Jasper gave her a happy smile and leaned down to kiss her. They stood there for a long time, their bodies intertwined, neither of them wanting to be the one to let go. When finally, he broke away, he whispered against her lips: “So, how is this going to work? When we stand in front of the altar? If you can’t say the word ‘yes’ to me?”
Her laughter was carefree and sweet. “I’m just going to have to say ‘I do’ instead.” The smile on his face was so bright, so wonderful, and she saved that in her memory for all eternity. She longed to make him smile like that many more times.
Just when he lowered his head to kiss her again, suddenly there were loud noises and screams coming from outside their compartment coach. Alice jumped back and looked up in alarm, but the corners of Jasper’s mouth twitched into a grin.
“Okay, I lied,” he said, his eyes darting to the door. “We’ve totally planned something for today.” His voice was almost drowned out by the shrieks of their fellow students and something else that sounded like… fireworks?
“Jasper!” she gasped, but he was already half out of the door.
“Eh…” His eyes were gleaming when he threw a look back at her. “You might want to run!” He grabbed her hand and pulled her with him, already picking up his pace.
“Whitlock!” Alice screamed at the same time as she heard the Trolley witch yell, somewhere behind them, “THOSE BLOODY MARAUDERS!”