Chapter Text
Dire Crowley, in your humble opinion, is a complete d- No. Be good. You've been trying very hard to censor yourself for the sake of your innocent friends. Unfortunately, this has extended to not using swearwords at all, even in the sanctity of your own mind because otherwise it slips out pretty easily whenever you're sleep-deprived - which is more often than you'd like to admit. In your defence, the state of Ramshackle leaves much to be desired.
This is Crowley's fault. The Headmage is forgetful and not in a cute, fumbling way. For some reason, this always seems to be your problem. The universe has it out for you right about now. And for the past two years too because why not? Why not foist everything Crowley doesn't want to do (everything) upon you. Some days, you want nothing more than to go to his office and start screeching. Maybe he'd give you less things to do then?
Unlikely.
You sigh. The Headmage wants you in his office. There's absolutely nothing you'd like less. There is, however, something you'd love which is him dropping dea- too morbid. You settle for a sigh so deep it feels like your soul might have left your body. Good for it. Let it be free since you certainly won't be. You sigh again, just in case there's any bits that got stuck, and decide that you should probably start your mental preparations.
'Be nice you need his money' you mutter repeatedly under your breath, basically chanting. Such extreme measures are both necessary and reasonable. You cannot afford to have your budget cut.
Again.
Granted, the first time was after you became a student at NRC and it hasn't been cut since then but you're still living off a shoestring budget and your friends' generosity which is... difficult for you.
That first time, more than it not being fine, what really bothered you was that it almost was. It might have been fine. It might have been but even now, Grim eats much more than his fair share. The thing is, he's too cute for you to get properly mad at - you're soft and squishy for your friends alright? - and also he's your responsibility and by then, he'd mellowed out enough for you to consider him a friend. Regrettably, you couldn't just leave him to fend for himself.
And again, he's your responsibility. As Prefect of Ramshackle (something you curse the Headmaster for at least twice a week), it's you who has to rein Grim in. That first month, you'd contented yourself with the smallest portions you could get away with. With how intensely Coach Vargas was running everyone into the ground, it's a miracle you didn't faint.
Not only that, but Grim was still adapting to human- err, humanoid? - customs (like the fact that he can't just tell people to strip naked and yes, no one is ever going to forget that when you're there to embarrass him) and it took some time for him to understand that eating everyone else's food without paying them back has consequences. You did most of the paying back which was basically grovelling and a few days with even less food. It doesn't happen anymore.
It doesn't happen anymore because yelling can sometimes be useful. Around four weeks in, you'd just felt so wretched that you couldn't take it. Grim hadn't taken you seriously at first but the unwelcome sight of your tears and sounds of your screams had shaken the monster enough for it to sink in and for you to sincerely regret it. You'd continued yelling, even as your stomach curdled with guilt. It wasn't about Grim, you'd shouted all you wanted to convey, but there was so much that you deserved to get out.
Despite the time, you'd snuck out once the monster was asleep, and used the money you'd been saving for a new uniform to buy Grim a premium can of tuna. He'd refused it when you presented it to him the next day, for dinner. It was nearly enough to push you over the edge again but you bit down on your tongue hard enough that you thought you tasted blood and tried to slow your breathing. It was the right decision.
Grim had looked you in the eye, his face more serious than you'd ever seen it before. "Henchman," he'd said gravely, "the great Grim has decided that premium tuna is not appropriate value for money. You will buy the discount tuna from now on, nya!".
Your eyes stung and maybe you hugged him a little too tightly but he didn't say anything and neither did you. The piece of paper he'd read part of that from was swept up into your arms along with the monster. When you finally let him go, it fluttered down into your empty hand. You'd slipped it into your pocket for no real reason. It seemed like a sign from someone upstairs, if there's someone there.
Later, in relative privacy, you examined the note. It should have been - it was strange how the idea of the ghosts disturbing you then was more bothersome than the ghosts interrupting you during a shower. Mind you, the Ramshackle ghosts do have some manners. It only nearly happened once - and maybe once before that, before you were friends but no one mentions that. What happens in Ramshackle, stays in Ramshackle. Except maybe spider babies.
You do not like spiders.
Spider belong outside not inside. They belong in the gardens of Heartslabyul, where the note had to have come from. Not only did the paper carry a faint scent of roses but there were half painted roses lining the edges, forming a pretty border.
You had immediately ruled out Ace and Deuce, those knuckleheads. They definitely wouldn't have used those words or owned paper like that. Next, you'd considered Cater and Trey. It wasn't either of them, as you discovered a week later.
Surprisingly, it was Riddle Rosehearts. Riddle, the strict Dorm Head of Heartslabyul, who you hadn't even suspected. Sure, you'd helped out with his overblot, but you hadn't suspected that he had a generous side.
You'd love to say that you'd figured it out like a detective but alas, your long-held dreams of being a real-life Sherlock Holmes have yet to be fulfilled. It's simply not your calling.
Poetically, you had found out because of the design on the paper. it was sort of underwhelming because the clue was so obvious. Cater had dropped by a week later with a formal invitation to an Unbirthday party. The invitation was only for Grim but Cater had assured you that you were welcome. You weren't sure if he was trying to stir up some trouble or not. He'd found your skepticism amusing but added that you were Alice and Alice is meant to be an uninvited guest. The invitation had a familiar border of half-painted roses so you'd decided to take a chance.
It turned out that Cater wasn't just trying to push Riddle's buttons. Trey had smuggled you a tart under the table and Riddle's watchful eyes. The Heartslabyul Housewarden hadn't said a single thing and your food situation dramatically improved from there. Riddle had even given Trey an approving nod the next time he fed you! You hadn't wanted to take advantage of their generosity but just a single tart a week took so much pressure off that you couldn't refuse.
Things had gotten even better once Grim volunteered your dorm for a small tea party (without asking you!). Ace and Deuce were used enough to the dust to not cough. You tried your best, of course, but there was only really you to clean. Grim tried. He didn't succeed. Your three upperclassmen weren't impressed. The next time you and Grim fell asleep studying with Ace and Deuce, there were no repercussions.
And, Riddle's increasingly red face that day had been kind of funny, in a dark way, as were the matching scowls on Trey and Cater's faces. The Dire Crowley hate club had nearly doubled, inducting three new members to make a grand total of seven.
This goes a long way to explain why he's glaring, completely unimpressed, from your table. You flinch just a little, in sympathy, for the poor Octavinelle messenger who was probably trying to get something out of this and has now realised that it was not worth it. They're uneasily shifting from foot to foot. You say a quiet dedication for their hopefully existent and eternal soul that may not be as quiet as you meant it to be, if their growing restlessness is any indication. Oh well. You tried.
Ace and Deuce decide to choose this moment to near you, supervised by Trey who follows three steps behind. Ah, your dearest idiot friends, who are drawn to trouble like magnets. Would Ace and Deuce be two norths meeting or two souths? Or are they two swirling magnets on strings, repelling and attracting each other in equal measure? Hmm...
What would that make you?
It is easy to pinpoint the exact second your friends realise that something is going down and also turn to stare at the damned Octavinelle student. Poor, poor guy. You might even ask Azul or one of the- nah, they'll try to charge you, won't they? They might like you a bit and they won't try to scam you out of Ramshackle or your money since they know how dire your situation is but whatever they come up with is going to be inconvenient. You should handle this on your own then, should you not?
"Here." you say, stretching out the flower crown you've just finished making. It should fit. "For your soul. I don't have a coin for Charon so this will have to do." Surely Persephone will appreciate it? Then again, the flowers are now dead so maybe that's not the best idea... The guy's already cursed. It will be fine. They'll recover quickly. You, on the other hand...
"Riddle-senpai, Trey-senpai." You respectfully address. "I appreciate your hospitality. Please don't wait for me to come back - I don't know how long this is going to take. If Crowley wants me to do something for him..."
Trey's jaw visibly tightens at the mention of your errant Headmage. Ace just about manages not to snarl and Deuce instantly deflates. He's not even here but Crowley's managed to kill the mood. Deuce shakes himself a bit, like a dog shaking off water.
"We'll come with you, Yuu!" Your sweet friend says. "Won't we, Ace?" He punctuates this with a quick elbow to Ace's side. The redhead groans and you have to smother your snicker. Sweet to you, mean to Ace. It's reciprocated so it's fine.
"Whatdidyou do that for, Juice?" Ace protests. "Of course we're coming! You weren't going to go without us, were you Yuu?"
You give them a placid smile and swallow the deep sigh that tries to rip its way out of your throat. Were you planning to go without them? Yes, absolutely. You were fully intending on leaving your friends behind since they've proved to be incapable of not getting into trouble. You would have left Grim too, if anything he's worse but the monster is asleep in your arms (thanks universe finally!) and it seems wrong to just leave him. And since he's asleep, maybe you'll manage to avoid trouble. He won't be able to encourage the other two. The other two who will be coming with you. They won't accept your refusal and deep down, you want their support.
Unwisely, you do have a big soft spot for the two idiots now flanking you, on either side of your chair. In your defence, they've both come so far. Deuce would have been too focused on being a model student to even suggest the idea of them coming with you so they could keep your spirits up by glowering at the Headmage for you. Ace would never have even dreamt of doing so much for someone else. You're not the only one with a soft spot.
Grim… the less said about your relationship in the early days, the better. His refusal of the apology premium tuna was the first time you realised that he did actually care for you. He's asleep so he doesn't have a choice about whether he comes or not and you could be merciful and leave him here or you could be merciful and take him with you. Meh, he can come.
You look over to the Octavinelle messenger whose name you should probably know. You've definitely seen them around the... Wait, where did they go? Most importantly, when? You might be frowning a little (not pouting, definitely not), when you realise that actually, all the people lingering on the edges of your vision earlier are now gone. They might have esc-left - they might have left when you were talking.
Next, you turn to your friends. Riddle is still glowering, now at nothing. Trey, on the other hand, has a small smirk playing on his lips that immediately makes you anxious. Thankfully, you're pretty sure you know what he's thinking and you're probably not his intended victim, more collateral damage. Unintentionally too! None of your upperclassmen are willing to move past Crowley abandoning them repeatedly (and maybe you too). If there's one thing that's true about NRC students, one single thing that unites them besides the obvious, it's that they hold grudges. Even Kalim, although his is on your behalf which is both disturbing and sweet.
It's not sweet that neither Ace and Deuce's Housewarden or Vice-Housewarden is going to talk your friends out of this. Trey is basically cheering them on! You're going to have an amazing meeting, what with two protective friends who would be quite happy to murder the Headmage, said unable-to-read-the-room-if-his-life-depended-on-it Headmage, the easily bribed Grim who you pray stays asleep (sorry Grim) and your tragic self. Why is being left in peace too much to ask for? That's not a rhetorical question, universe! Hello?
Never mind.
"I'll come back whenever Crowley lets me leave." you repeat to Riddle and Trey. "Don't expect me back before midnight." The second part was supposed to be funny but you really don't have the energy to make it sound so. The joke falls as flat as your tone. Ah. You weren't so tired a few minutes ago, were you? ...That's a question best left unanswered.
Trey stops trying to figure out how much you ate and slept by squinting at you and looks towards Riddle instead. He understands what Trey means, even if you don't because he huffs once, shifts almost uncomfortably and and turns to angle his head towards you. Okay...
"You are welcome to... to return to Heartslabyul tonight..." Riddle starts. You don't miss the quick glance he sends Trey. "Well, I suppose it cannot be helped, Alice... rules..." Is this actually what you think it is?
Trey coughs, deliberately.
"That is to say, you are welcome to return here whenever the Headmage dismisses you, no matter the time. You four may have a... a sleepover." Behind Riddle, Trey nods, satisfied. No, seriously, what's happening? Was there something in the tarts? You know firsthand how important rules are to Riddle. Is he-
"Ace, Deuce." the Vice-Housewarden adds. "You will return with the Prefect." Riddle agrees. He actually agrees. He's condoning violating the Rules and curfew. You know he's much more relaxed nowadays but relaxed for Riddle is pretty much- wait, no, that makes sense. Relaxed for Riddle is you on a daily basis, high-strung but flexible for your friends. Huh.
You stumble on your first few steps, legs numb after so long sat at that table, all your attention focused on not dropping Grim. He's unfairly adorable when sleeping and you know to be careful of his flames so you're no longer getting small burns on your forearms. Progress! Ace and Deuce bicker behind you, much quieter than usual, out of consideration for Grim. Progress! It doesn't make a difference, to be honest, since you're pretty sure Grim could sleep through an earthquake but still. Positive growth should be encouraged and all that, right?
"I'm proud of you." you tell the bickering students at your back. Deuce, bless his tender heart, blushes. Ace grumbles but you know if you look back at him, he'll be wearing his half-embarrassed, half-pleased smile.
"Stop being weird!" he whines.
"I'll stop being weird when you stop picking fights." you bat back. Deuce laughs. He finds this argument funnier every single time he hears it, which means he's practically wheezing. Then, with perfect timing, Ace elbows him in the ribs. It's revenge for earlier, but more than that it's a recurring step in this little dance that keeps happening.
Deuce laughs despite it all. He only stops laughing a corridor away from the Headmage's office. It's kind of a disproportionate reaction but you giggle at basically everything so you have no room to judge. Terrible joke? Haha. You fall into a pit full of skeletons? Argh but also haha this-is-wild-and-you-must-be-hallucinating-this-is-just-your-luck-isn't-it?
Confronting Speaking to Crowley? Haha, great fun, why's it always you?
You know, even as you knock on his door and call for him that this is going to be painful. Something's going to go wrong. It always does.
Crowley opens the door, scans the four of you and lunges. For some unfathomable reason, he decides that today is the day to use violence on the only student who can't defend themselves with magic. He grabs your arm roughly and pulls you in, slamming the door shut behind you. It's almost as loud as the screeching of your internal alarm. He's locked the door before you even blink. Ace and Deuce won't be able to get in. It's just you and Grim, who you miraculously managed not to drop, not that he'll think to thank you for it.
"Wha-?" You start to question, only for Crowley to seize Grim from your arms, depositing him on the desk with a dull thud that makes you wince. That was a bit rough, wasn't it? Maybe not that much since Grim is still asleep but like-
Oh, so that's what Crowley's trying to hide. Your gaze has wandered and now your eyes catch on the salt circle on the floor, candles scattered around it. A ritual? That's what the Headmage doesn't want anyone else to see? Heck, most of the students probably summons demon every other week. You swear up and down that at least one of the students is a demon. You'd bet your left foot on it.
There's a mirror in the centre of the circle that it's hard not to notice. There's not much to notice about it - it's pretty plain and boring, curved into a basic oval shape and missing any sharp corners. It gives you a bad feeling almost instantly, even before you register that Crowley's shoved you into it. One minute you're examining it and the next, it's far, far too close to your face.
Depressing, the first thing you think isn't even help!. The thing is, after coming from your magicless land to here, your tolerance of magical rubbish has exponentially risen. When you see the spectral blue hands reaching for you, greedy, all that runs through your mind is here we go again.
"-home-" Crowley says. You blink in confusion. Maybe you've missed one of his helpful monologues again? Why can he never tell you things you need to know when you can actually process them? That would be too easy probably. Wouldn't be as much fun for him if you knew what you were supposed to avoid. Or do. Both.
You're too busy grumbling about Crowley that you don't realise until too late that somethin is wrong. It's not like the Headmage is sane but this is weirder than usual. The alarm in your head screeches so loud you wonder if you're going to pass out. Your anxiety spikes. Your limbs refuse to obey you, do not move even as you start to choke.
The last thing you see before it all goes black is a writhing Grim, bound by the Headmage's 'lash of love', mouthing your name.