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There were very few things in the world that were unnerving to a Black.
Perhaps that came about from their strict upbringing, from their early development of magic, and from the continued whispered words in their ears about the status and power that came with being born into the Black family. Perhaps that came with their natural acceptance and experimentation of the mysterious and the odd, with so many in their family diving into forbidden subjects that often drove them mad, spearheading the murmurs of “Black Madness” among the denizens of the Wizarding World. Perhaps it was just implied in their proud tradition of naming their children after constellations, of which old wizards believed defined the fates of all Vixen, and of which were inlayed upon the night sky and each individual, unique star represented core values that Vixen should strive to uphold.
Power. Uniqueness. Leadership. Solitude. Loneliness. Alphard Black was not unfamiliar with the immediate insinuations that his name had chained upon him, nor the expectation that he, like every other Black, should expect nothing else but greatness; he should expect nothing less than to stand high above the common masses waving a banner of success.
But Alphard had seen the way the head of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, Arcturus Black, never went a day without managing another arising problem, and he could not pretend to be blind to the bitterness that his own father, Pollux Black, displayed to his own brother. He was not blind to the way that none of the Blacks really ever had time for each other, displaying only detached interest to those who showed potential and shunning those that did not. He was no political genius, after all, unlike his brother Cygnus; he did not wield dark magic intuitively, unlike his sister Walburga.
Alphard Black thought that the Black way of life was a rather lonely way of living.
So he spent his childhood with the constant ache in his chest that constantly reminded him that he would never compare to his siblings nor their potential, and would be forgotten and burned off the family tree if he did not begin meeting his parent’s expectations.
Hogwarts was a little better than his lonely days holed up in a Black manor, alienated from his siblings and unable to connect with the numerous cousins he had, many of which he was sure disliked him anyways. But in the end people overlooked him for his more intelligent brother or his beautiful and powerful sister, or his witty yet easy-going cousin who would become head of the Black bloodline when he grew older. The most he would get was a nod of acknowledgement, a recognition that despite his utter normalcy, he was still a member of a respected pureblood family.
In the end, two years felt like no time at all.
Third year came like it usually did, with Alphard hovering at the sides of Tom Riddle’s established court – and only because Orion was rather fond of him – wishing for nothing else but to retire to his new dorm room and not come out again. His parents had sent him off with not-so mild warnings about how his grades better start to show some improvement, and Alphard did catch the unsubtle disownment threat layered into their goodbyes.
Not like he hadn’t heard that before.
Orion was already messing with his friends in a playful yet carefree manner Alphard was a little envious of. The rest of the court were yet again completely ignoring his existence, murmuring about the newest development over the war, or fashion, or political statement, and definitely something Alphard did not find interest in.
But what was not as typical was when Alphard caught Riddle staring oddly intensely into the group of first years waiting to be sorted. Riddle was not the type to display idle interest in anyone he proclaimed was inferior to himself, which everyone in Slytherin knew meant anyone other than himself. There was certainly no reason for any first year to catch his eye. He already had the heirs of a few of the most influential houses by his side already.
So Alphard quietly followed his gaze and found his eyes immediately drawn to a boy who was most definitely too old to be a first year. The student wore ragged clothes and glasses with lenses that were cracked and clearly hastily repaired – and the student was clearly not a pureblood.
But Slytherins were nothing if not well at discerning information, and as the sorting commenced quite a few eyes turned in considerable curiosity towards the mysterious “transfer student.”
Hadrian Evans was called up to the sorting hat, and already a few turned their heads away with sneers. A five minute hat stall later, when Evans was declared a Hufflepuff, nearly everyone had turned their heads away in disinterest or disappointment.
Alphard looked and saw Riddle still staring at the transfer student. Alphard thought he could understand why. He’d spent his entire life in the shadow of the betters in his family, after all. He knew confidence and power when he saw it. And he saw Harry’s strong gait and his fluttering robes and the shining gaze of his eyes as he scanned the hall in a detached manner.
There were very few things in the world that were unnerving to Alphard Black. But it was not because he was proficient with magic or flaunted his family like a crown or because he experimented with mysterious magic unknown to the majority of prying eyes. It was because Alphard spent his nights burying his head in the pillow and contemplating his definitively wayward future, the grandeur his status had promised but he would never receive, and the utter unfairness in a world that never waited for its inhabitants to flourish but left all those weak behind. Riddle had unnerved him the very first time Alphard had met him, because staring into those dark eyes he knew he was facing a manipulative and cunning individual that had the school wrapped around his finger – the epitome of a Slytherin – despite his impure blood.
But looking at Hadrian Evans, he could not pinpoint why he felt pinpoints of unease prickling down his spine.
But in the end Hadrian Evans was a Hufflepuff, and would likely make no waves in Slytherin. Alphard fiddled with his tie and tuned back into the conversation among Riddle’s court. Perhaps the year would prove to be uneventful, after all.
***
It was awfully ironic, Alphard thought, that the very first time he had individually interacted with Evans was when he found himself escaping Slytherin.
He’d felt the near unbearable ache he was so used to feeling blooming in his chest as he stood awkwardly by the common room entrance. He was not considered close enough to Riddle to think of joining the group by the seats positioned in front of fireplace, and he had not developed enough friendships to consider picking a spot to sit in the rather packed Slytherin common room. No one, not even Orion – who Alphard considered the closest Black to him, even more so than his own siblings – took notice of his dilemma as he shuffled by the door.
So Alphard slipped, unnoticed, out of the Slytherin common room and headed towards the only place he knew would be open – the library. He pushed down his disappointment and planned to spent the hour before breakfast looking ahead on the content that he would be learning in his elective classes (and he’d rather been looking forward to Runes). He prayed to all the Old Gods that there would be someone he recognized in his classes.
And as if the world had decided to laugh in his face, he crashed immediately into someone who was walking out of the library.
“Merlin almighty,” he heard the figure swear, “my morning can’t possibly get any worse.”
Alphard, who was currently laying collapsed and surrounded by books that had only just missed his body as they had toppled over, let out a choked laugh. “You should know never to say that. That’s practically a dictionary precursor for your day to immediately grow worse.”
Curious green eyes stared at him, and a hand reached down towards him. Alphard didn’t think he’d seen anyone with that curious shade of green until he scanned the student’s features and realized he was the transfer student, Evans, that had drawn his curiosity during the sorting.
“Uh…” Alphard said smartly. He had not been expecting anyone to be in the library this early in the morning. Even most of the Ravenclaws would still be bundled up in their blankets, collapsed after a late night researching some obscure fact or topic that they should have spent on their actual assignments. “Sorry?”
Evans blinked as his eyes trailed over his facial features. “You’re forgiven. I wasn’t exactly looking at where I was going either. Pleasure to meet you – you’re Alphard Black, right? I’ve heard a little about you.”
“All good things, I hope.” Alphard ignored the hand, pushed himself up and dusted off his robes.
Evans waved his hand, and the books that lay strewn out across the floor gathered themselves up and delivered themselves straight into a bag hanging from Hadrian’s shoulder. “Should have done that sooner,” Evans muttered with an exaggerated head shake. He turned to Alphard, who was still staring at Evans’ bag in some disbelief. “And yes, Black, I’ve heard quite good things about you.”
Alphard snorted despite his current disbelief, derision evident in his voice as his mind went back to the scene from just a few minutes prior. “I highly doubt that.”
“Well you’re wrong.” Evans’ words were very blunt and he offered a smile tinged with the faintest trace of fondness. “I’ve heard very good things about you, just not from the people you think I would have heard it from.”
Alphard didn’t think he’d ever associated himself with a Hufflepuff before. He nodded his head at Evans’ strange statement. “Right.”
Evans only offered him a nod as he walked off with a light bounce in his step. Alphard hesitated for a moment, but in the end he couldn’t quite contain the “wait!” that fell from his lips. The Sorting Hat had considered putting him in Ravenclaw, but Alphard was pretty sure he would be disowned from the Blacks quicker than he could blink despite the fact that Ravenclaw tended to be the only other respected House among the Blacks. Alphard would not be the first to break the Black’s tradition of being sorted into Slytherin.
The bouncing footsteps paused as Evans looked back with a cocked head.
“What you just did – that was wandless and wordless magic.”
“What? No I –” Evans stopped, and Alphard watched with some disbelief when Evans brought up his hand and smashed it into his face. “Second nature…and I said I needed to be more careful . ‘Mione would have killed me.”
Without waiting for Alphard to process the statement, Evans bounded over and placed his hands on his shoulders and stared at him with an intensity that amplified the green color in his eyes. “I’m going to have to ask you kindly, Black, to not repeat anything you have seen nor heard to any of the other Slytherins.”
Alphard felt as if he had just touched something that was much bigger than himself. Any normal Slytherin would have declined and held the odd information above Evans’ head gleefully.
But Alphard had just come from the Slytherin dorms alone, hadn’t he? And Alphard had a gut feeling that Evans wasn’t naïve as he had appeared. Those eyes were intense, but the depths were penetrated by glimmers of trust.
Alphard knew what a lack of trust looked like, as it was something most of the Blacks would regard each other with unabashedly. He knew trust more scarcely, having been delicately handed it when Orion had run to him when they were younger, grinning mischievously and telling his quiet, seemingly trustworthy cousin that Lucretia would be running after him and he could not , under any circumstances, disclose his location to her.
Orion had promptly dived under his bed and stayed there. Lucretia had ransacked the entire house searching for the brother who had singed the dress she was supposed to be wearing the next week to an event while he was playing with his magic. She’d been suspicious, but Alphard had offered a few words of condolences and had not given up the boy only a few feet away from them.
Orion had clapped him on the back and thanked him for staying quiet. Alphard had felt like a little kid instead of a boy treading down the path of self-isolation.
Alphard stared into Evans’ eyes and offered him a tentative smile. “I won’t tell anyone. Promise.”
“Thank you.” Evans beamed as he took his hands off Alphard’s shoulders. “I was just leaving, but what do you say we go and spend some time in the library before the mindless mob starts swarming into the Great Hall for breakfast?”
Alphard felt his lips twitch. “I’m a third year.”
“So?” Evans tilted his head. “I find that ignorance stems from unwillingness to listen to those people deemed unimportant. The Wizarding World has stagnated so, from my observations.”
Any normal pureblood would have stricken Evans with a particularly nasty curse or hex from the implied insult in his words. But Alphard stared at the most-likely mudblood boy who had dared to critique the entire Wizarding system in front of a member of one of the most pureblooded family that existed. He found himself admiring the recklessness of the statement despite his distaste of the trait. “You…think a third year is worth listening to?”
“I think that you’ll do great things, Black.” Evans had smiled at him as he headed back towards the library. “Just that you won’t know them for a while. Now are you going to keep gawking, or are you coming with me?”
Alphard swallowed and he felt his feet move before his mind registered the movement as he followed the most interesting fifth year he had the pleasure of knowing.
***
Hufflepuffs were undeniably much too kind for their own good. If anyone in Slytherin had found out someone from another house had stepped a single foot into their common room the person that had led them there would have been instantly demoted to persona non grata and shunned for the rest of the school year, and they would have found a way to torment the so-called “intruder.”
But here he was, pressed against Hadrian’s body, gritting his teeth as neon pink crystals grew out of his skin.
“And you’re sure that the Hufflepuffs aren’t going to flay me on sight?” He asked again.
“I would sure hope they don’t.” Hadrian knocked on the last barrel and the Hufflepuff dorm opened. “Otherwise I would be uncertain of what was actually wearing the skins of all my dormmates.”
Alphard blinked at that horrifying insinuation as he stepped foot into the Hufflepuff common room. The atmosphere was much more different than the Slytherin common room, despite them being both located in the dungeons. The Slytherin common room was vast and expansive, and everyone looked to the fireplace for strength and stability; the Hufflepuff room was humble and warm, and light illuminated every nook and cranny upon the carved stone walls. Plants hung from the ceiling in lush columns and light streamed into the room in ribbons from the small, round windows that decorated the walls.
He didn’t think he’d ever stepped into a place that could be described as “homely.”
“Harry?” A brunette peeked her head over from where she sat on a comfortable looking couch, blue eyes sparkling, illuminated by the scattered sunlight dappling the floor of the common room. Curious eyes turned to the unexpected, younger companion who immediately felt uncomfortable with the curious glances shot at him.
“Annie, I am going to have to ask you to steal Mason for me. We have a refugee right here in need of his services.” Hadrian cuffed his hands around his mouth and exaggeratedly whispered the last part of that statement.
“Aye-aye, Captain Evans,” the girl saluted and bounded off towards a direction Alphard guessed was the Hufflepuff dorms.
There was a silence as Alphard paced around a little, taking care not to jostle his arm too much. Colorful as the crystals may be, they hurt an unnatural amount.
Hadrian spoke abruptly after a moment. “Are you going to tell me?” Hadrian’s voice was soft and dangerous. Alphard struggled to associate the voice Hadrian was using with the boy who was using them.
"Pardon?"
“About who decided it would be silly little idea to grow crystals out of your arms?” Harry smiled. There was nothing friendly in that expression. “I promise you won’t have to worry about retaliation.”
Alphard stared at the boy. He had known that Hadrian was not as flawlessly kind of a human being as he painted himself to be. There had been small displays of an unhinged, manic side beneath the people-helping façade Hadrian hid behind in the month and a half that he’d known Hadrian. That was fine – he was surrounded by people who were about as far from intrinsically kind as possible without dipping into pure sadism.
Hadrian had torn off his mask, just a little, for Alphard.
He felt something warm sputtering to life inside of him.
“That’s alright.” He raised his arm slowly. “It was actually my own fault. I was…attempting to brew a potion I had messed up last Potions class.” Alphard was sure that Hadrian was not going to lord the fact above his head. “I mismeasured a proportion of the ingredients. The potion decided to explode on me. Here I am, sprouting crystals out of my arm.”
Hadrian stared at his arm in no small amount of horror, countenance completely flipped from his previous dark expression. “You realize that could have been a lot, lot worse, Alphard?”
“I…am aware –”
“Nuh uh.” Hadrian shushed him as he pressed a finger to Alphard’s mouth. He stared at it in disbelief. “No excuses. This shan’t happen again.”
“I should hope not. Why exactly has my cousin decided to repurpose his arm for mining?” Mason MacMillan, an apprentice healer, strode towards the pair, wand already in hand. “I’m almost touched that you went to find me instead of going to the hospital wing, Alfie. Almost like that time you thought it would be a funny idea to become your own barber and used your wand to hold your hair up. I was told that was a rather illuminating experience.”
Alphard gave Mason a half-hearted glare. “Don’t call me that.” He hadn’t interacted with his cousins on his mother’s side of the family very much, but from what he remembered of Mason he was rather fond of dry humor and embarrassing any cousins that he could.
Hadrian looked amused, but he thankfully did not pursue that line of questioning. “Please keep this quiet, Mason. I’ll owe you.”
“Really, Evans?” Mason gave Harry a mock disappointed look. “I would have hoped you know me better than to think I only work off favors.” He leaned over and poked Alphard’s forehead. “That’s for my Slytherin cousins, like the one pouting over here.”
Alphard, who was indeed pouting, quickly masked his expression. “I suppose I am rather fortunate an upperclassman decided to take the responsibility of escorting me to your humble services, cousin.” Mason gave him an unconcealed grin and waved his wand to cast a basic diagnostic curse over the Slytherin.
The Annie girl had also returned at this time. “Annabelle Gardner, but you can just call me Annie.” She offered, holding out a snack. ”Chocolate frog?”
Alphard shook his head.
Gardner shrugged and turned back to the conversation she had been having with a group of Hufflepuff students. Hadrian stayed silent as he watched Mason investigate the odd crystals for a few minutes in silence. Alphard thought that was very uncharacteristic of the student.
“Merlin was shining down upon you, dear cousin of mine.” Mason finally stepped back. “The crystals aren’t actually penetrating through your skin, but they are stimulating the nerves in your skin. Give me just one second.”
Mason turned his attention to the case that he had laid off to the side. While he went through the healing items, Hadrian leaned in with a smile. “You know all my friends call my Harry, right?”
Alphard blinked. “That was very sudden, Hadrian.”
“You do realize that you’re a friend, Alphard?”
Hadn’t he dreamed of that happening, once, before he arrived at Hogwarts friendless and a little more than a disappointment? “Oh,” he said dumbly.
Mason returned by then, and went to work carefully applying the poultice, which reacted to the crystal and slowly dissolved them. “I’m going to assume that this won’t happen again, Alfie.”
Alphard normally wouldn’t have cared about his grades, not even if his parents were to threatening to kick him out of the family tree or pull him out of Hogwarts. But now, he couldn’t afford to stay on their bad side. “Sure,” he said insincerely, and he turned his gaze up to the dangling plants.
“I’m going to start a study group,” Hadrian said suddenly as he escorted the younger Slytherin back to the Slytherin dorm (Alphard decided he wasn’t going to try to figure out how Hadrian knew the locations of every single one of the House dorms) later. “You’re invited. You really shouldn’t try to brew alone again.”
“Thanks, Hadrian.”
Hadrian turned and stared at him, before placing his hand on his heart in feigned hysteria. “Alphard! Are you so intent on insisting that you aren’t my friend?”
“…Do you not like your name?”
“I can tell with different people.” Hadrian waved. His words made no sense until he elaborated a moment later. “You’re not the type of person that would call me by my full name just because it’s the ‘proper’ thing to do. I simply consider you my friend, and I hope that you’ll reciprocate those feelings.”
Alphard did. He really did admire the older Hufflepuff and the fact that he hadn’t abandoned Alphard yet, and always found time to spend with him despite being from a different dorm and two years older than him.
But the last person who had genuinely enjoyed spending time with was Orion, who wasn’t giving him the time of day anymore.
Harry only sighed. “Whatever the case, I’ll reiterate to you that you’re invited to the study group. And you better show up if you’re planning on brewing something again, so I can make sure you’re not caught and you don’t blow yourself up.”
“I –” Alphard opened his mouth almost instinctively to refuse. But there wasn’t really any downside to studying with an upperclassman, was there? And certainly not one who displayed as much proficiency and familiarity with magic as Harry did. “Alright…I’ll be there. Thanks, Harry.”
Harry beamed.
“You can call me Alfie,” Alphard said suddenly.
This seemed to throw Harry off. “I thought you didn’t like the nickname?”
“It’s not that I don’t like it.” Alphard thought about his wild-haired and carefree cousin once again. “It’s just that there was only one person I was…comfortable with calling me that. But he hasn’t been talking with me recently.”
He received a smile he just knew was genuine from Harry. “I’m happy you feel comfortable enough with me to allow me to call you that, Alfie.”
The name felt so natural, rolling off of Harry’s tongue.
The two walked in silence for a while, all that needed to have been said already spoken, fulfillment drifting about the atmosphere surrounding the two figures. Alphard found himself with a lightness in his steps he didn’t think he’d walked with before.
“Did you write down what you did with your potion?” Harry asked as they turned the corner to the dorms, breaking the silence.
“I remember what I did. Why?”
Harry grinned. “Well that’s just excellent, isn’t it. My dear friend and companion, I feel as if with just a little tweaking of the formula you decided to stumble across, it may just have some use in the future.”
Alphard blinked, and thought he realized what Harry hinted at. It helped that Harry was wearing the same grin he remembered Orion wearing that day when Lucretia went hunting after him. “You’re asking for my help…for a prank?”
“I like how you think, my friend.” Harry leaned in, like he was about to whisper a secret to him. “I was actually planning on using the wayward potion as collateral. We may not have known each other for a long time, Alfie, but I just have this feeling that we’re going to get along splendidly now that we’ve finally gotten our introductions out of the way.”
It had been barely a few minutes that Alphard had finally found it within himself to call Hadrian “Harry,” and even less for Alphard to admit what he truly thought of Harry despite his initial hesitancy. And Harry had already decided to rope him into a rather silly plot, of which any reasonable Slytherin would scoff and shake their head at the blatant immaturity.
Alphard, like so many times before, only found himself more entranced by the older student, previous path towards the Slytherin entrance forgotten. He was not unaware that it was odd to trust in a student so after only around a month of having met them, and with the knowledge that the student was not being as transparent as they seemed.
“But hurry along now.” Harry pointed at the entrance. “I am fully aware of how much excitement I bring with me, but you have been gone the entire afternoon.”
“No one’s going to notice anyways,” Alphard murmured, almost subconsciously.
Harry froze at the words and turned to stare at the Slytherin common room entrance with an odd look. “Is that so?” He said after a moment. “All’s the more pity for them, I suppose. After all, you and all do have a formula to tweak, don’t we? I’m open to start right now if you are.”
Alphard tentatively smiled back. “I think I would like that very much.”
For the first time in years, Alphard walked away from the Slytherin common room without a single thought of the people who resided inside.
***
Harry sat down heavily. There were eye bags under his eyes and he looked like he hadn’t slept in over a week. Alphard knew Harry did not struggle at all in his classes, so his appearance was a genuine mystery. Harry let out a large sigh in a characteristically melodramatic way, and buried his head into his arms, which he had placed on the table.
“You look like you saw someone die.” Travers, a Ravenclaw Alphard found rather unpleasant who had recently been pulled into their study group, remarked bluntly. He seemingly refused to talk to anyone except Harry during their time together. Alphard supposed he could understand.
Harry grumbled.
“Your poor deceased soul.” Alphard poked at him. “Being exploited every moment by your living breath.” A few weeks ago, Alphard would not have even dreamed of making such a joke, not without the paranoia that Harry would take offence to something he’d said and decided that he was useless after all. “You clearly need to pass out for the next week.”
“I would love that, actually.” Harry sighed. “But I suppose duty calls for my grades.”
“I was under the impression you didn’t struggle in your classes.” Selvin Prewett, who was still fiddling around with an odd colored cube contraption Harry had introduced to him a few days ago, “And so you use your time to impose your great knowledge upon us mere common folk.”
“You jest, my friend.” Harry laughed, the sound muffled as he finally lifted his head up. “Astronomy seems to be taking a little more from me than usual.”
“Don’t push yourself.” Gardner was looking at Harry with some concern. “Your grades aren’t worth your health.”
Harry shrugged. “I’m about done with the assignment anyways. I heard that you discovered something interesting from Serena?”
The girl in question looked up from where she was reading something intently, saw that no one was addressing her, and went back to her book.
Gardner perked up. “I was actually investigating the summoning charm and its seeming inefficiency in usage.”
“You found something that can improve the widely-utilized summoning charm?” Travers drawled. Alphard didn’t sense the usual venom nor sarcasm that seeped into his voice when he talked with anyone else. If Alphard didn’t know Travers any better, he would say he sounded interested.
Gardner looked gleeful at his response, and immediately took the signal to elaborate on a unique combination of runes she had been investigating that apparently achieved the same purpose with less limitations.
Alphard blanched a little at the interaction. From what he remembered of Travers when Alphard attended social gatherings among the pureblood families, he would never have associated those two words with him. But Harry really was special – he was a supposed muggleborn leading a study group of students that had mostly grown up in the magical world. It was like Harry to somehow introduce Travers to Gardner and then somehow convince the pureblood and muggleborn to tolerate – or even get along with – each other.
Alphard admired Harry’s resilience.
He brought himself out of the train of thought and tapped Harry on the shoulder. “What were you actually doing?”
Harry blinked. “What?”
“I mean that you don’t struggle with any of your classes, even though you pretend you do. You downplay your talents.” It had been a relatively easy piece of evidence to deduce, after Alphard had caught Harry effortlessly casting wandlessly and wordlessly, yet from a few muttered words in Slytherin Alphard learned that Harry apparently needed to practice a spell a few times before mastering it. While still rather prodigal, his skill didn’t surpass the current leader of Slytherin. But Alphard had known immediately that Harry had been tricking everyone.
It was truly a shame that third-year Alphard Black knew more about Harry did any single one of the Slytherins did.
Harry observed him quietly for a moment, then mirrored Alphard’s action. “I was actually investigating the Forbidden Forest.”
“What?” Alphard nearly yelped, but managed to suppress his reaction due to his continued practice of the skill when he was younger. “Why would you go into the Forbidden Forest?” He whispered harshly.
“Thestrals.” Harry spoke casually. “Late night investigation for a personal project of mine. There are quite a few of them on school grounds.”
Alphard felt a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach. “Isn’t – can’t you only see Thestrals if you’ve seen death?”
Harry narrowed his eyes. “I thought it was common consensus that Thestrals are cursed or bring bad luck?”
“I’m a Black.”
“Fair enough.” Harry put an elbow on the table and leaned his cheek against his hand. “I was just passing time at a place where I met an old friend. It’s been…a while since we’ve seen each other, and I find it rather relaxing just recalling fond memories.”
Alphard recognized the sensitive information Harry was relaying, and he kept quiet despite the tightening knot in his chest as he discerned the hidden meaning of Harry’s sentence and the tragedy that already plagued his life.
“But they’re also rather fascinating creatures in general.” Harry snapped out of his stupor with a disturbingly bright smile. Alphard thought it was uncanny how easily he slid his mask back into place. “Did you know there’s been very minimal investigation into how the behavior of Thestrals? Their origins? Their unique characteristics?” Harry grinned at him. “I thought it would be something nice, for my late friend, to investigate the rather misunderstood creature.”
Like every other time Harry had pointed out something completely true about the Wizarding World, Alphard stopped to consider his words.
Thestrals were not very publicized creatures. It was true that the lack of information made them very misunderstood or not understood at all. Alphard had not been aware there were Thestrals on school grounds – not that Alphard had gone searching for them.
He was seven when he stood by a grave and watched his grandfather Cygnus Black lowered into the ground. Alphard had stood by his grandfather’s sickbed as the man lay there with a deteriorating body, and he had seen the last rise of his chest, his final and seemingly normal breath before he was claimed by death. His grandfather had died young like so many of the other members of his family, pursuing an obscure interest that had, at the very end, killed him. Alphard had seen his own face reflected in the one laying in the coffin, and the chilling absence of someone who’d been a part of his life, and he had hid himself in his room for days.
Harry had seen his friend pass away, most likely. If researching the creatures was a part of a personal mission of his – Alphard wanted to help, especially if Alphard would be able to see them. If there was anything Slytherin about Alphard, it was that he would not let a debt go unpaid when there was such a perfect opportunity to help Harry laid out in front of him.
“I suspect he’ll be joining us soon.” His mind set, Alphard finally turned his focus to the study group, where Harry had turned to address all the members. “I realize you may not have positive feelings towards him, but do your best to stay unaffected.”
“Why would the high and mighty Riddle be joining us?” Prewett had abandoned his contraption, though Alphard had no doubt he was still trying to figure out how it worked in his head.
“Because he’s interested in Harry.” Valens Rookwood’s eyes were discerning.
“He was interested in me.” Harry looked about as sheepish as he could be. “I may have accidentally provoked him, though.”
Prewett snorted. “You don’t accidentally do anything, Harry. Want to tell us why you deliberately provoked our new Slytherin prefect?”
Harry smirked, but he did not reply. He turned back to the still-deliberating Gardner, who had pulled out a book and was explaining something intently to the surprisingly still-listening Travers, and poked her on the back. Gardner turned around in surprise as Harry swept his hand over a section of the book, somehow immediately latching onto what Gardner was talking about.
Alphard remained distracted for the rest of the time period. He did not feel Harry’s searching gazes that swept over him.
***
“It’s nearly curfew.”
Alphard startled as Harry seemingly apparated in front of him. The boy had a cloak draped over his school robes, and his crooked glasses were resting on the bridge of his nose. “How did you do that?”
“You aren’t still upset by what I said, are you?”
Alphard was indeed still upset with what was said. It wasn’t because Harry hadn’t disclosed the madness and loss that had occurred in his life before that moment at the entire Slytherin table, and it was not because Harry had somehow gauged his plan and revealed it in front of the entire Slytherin table.
Harry was oddly kind for someone who hid behind a perfectly-sculpted mask. He brought people together and hung out with people from all houses. He gave joy away despite it obviously having so much of it taken away from him.
Alphard was upset because of that. Because Harry still laughed and smiled and acted like he genuinely hadn’t expected anyone to care. It was just like how Harry had talked about his friend in the library – almost detached. Like what Harry should have had feeling had been wringed out of him and left to evaporate, and all that had been left was a crumbling husk of emotions only barely held together.
Harry didn’t deserve that.
Harry had stepped closer. “I am going to have to request once again that you do not speak of this to anyone – and your Occlumency shields are strong, right?”
“They’re decent.” The Blacks were particularly insistent that their family members have some profiency over the Mind Arts.
“Great.” Harry grabbed onto the side of his cloak, which – now that Alphard was looking closely at it – was a lot larger than it seemed. He swung his arm and the cloak followed, which draped itself over Alphard’s head. From the way that Harry nearly disappeared and left only his extremities visible, Alphard quickly guessed what Harry had just done.
“You have an invisibility cloak?” They were not very rare nor unheard of, but they were certainly hard to get. “How in the name of Merlin did you manage to get an invisibility cloak?”
Harry didn’t reply and started walking forwards. Alphard followed after him quickly before the cloak was fully dragged from his body.
Harry led them down the winding, maze-like corridors of Hogwarts. Alphard stared in amazement when Harry knocked a pattern onto a section of a wall, and an entrance revealed itself to the outside of Hogwarts.
The two walked quickly down a hill and Alphard paused slightly as they neared the edge of the Forbidden Forest. But Harry’s nonchalance and the knowledge that he had been planning on coming either way led him to move his feet.
“I feel as if I should be more surprised you somehow know a secret way out of the castle,” Alphard muttered as Harry swung the cloak off of Alphard and then came into visibility himself.
“You know me better by now.” Harry turned and stepped quietly into the forest. Alphard admired the Gryffindor tendencies of the boy in front of him and hurried to follow. Alphard was still rather confused as to what was going on when Harry led them to a plain and Alphard saw himself looking at a group of skeletal, almost translucent-looking creatures that seemed like a cross between a horse and a bat.
Thestrals, his mind supplied.
“I told you multiple times that Thestrals are misunderstood.” Harry waved his hand and a chunk of blood meat appeared on the ground. A long pause unfurled as both Harry and Alphard waited quietly before a Thestral slowly trotted over and began tearing at the meat with very sharp teeth. Alphard watched with a mix of fascination and a fear that came with the stigma of Thestrals he couldn’t quite rid himself of.
“You’ve seen death yourself as well.” The sharp words were cutting.
“Yes, but you –”
“Alphard.” Alphard flinched slightly at Harry’s serious tone. “It seems to me that you are too focused on what I have experienced. Why do you not give your own feelings the same scrutinizing reflection?”
“I was not very close with grandfather.” Alphard admitted this fact slowly. “But you lost so many people – and that doesn’t really compare with what I’ve lost.”
“I don’t think it’s very fair to compare two completely separate lives, nor the experiences individuals have gone through.” Harry’s voice was steady and clear. He gestured Alphard over with his hand. “Look at the Thestral. It reveals itself to whomever had seen death – and are we not both standing here and witnessing the same thing?”
Harry lifted a hand up to the Thestral and rested it softly on its muzzle. For a second Alphard could only hear Harry’s warnings about the Thestral biting off his hand, but the Thestral gave no visible reaction.
“And it is not only that someone has to witness death.” Harry continued. “They have to truly be able to process it. I’ve known people who have witnessed too much death and yet have not been able to see Thestrals, and I’ve known people who’ve been able to see Thestrals despite having seen death at an age only just old enough to recall.” He seemed to lean into the muzzle more, and began softly stroking its skeletal features.
“I think what people don’t understand is that Thestrals are not only representations of those who have seen or those who have processed it. Those who lose a loved one and feel a hole in their lives. Those that can only watch strangers suck in their last breaths with a strangle and know that the scene will never leave them. Those that try their hardest to save lives and realize that there will only always be more to save.”
Harry bit his lip and fell silent for a bit. Alphard clutched his arm tightly and dug his feet into the moist forest ground.
“Death is and has always been a constant.” Harry finally continued and lifted his hand off the Thestral. “But what people have failed to realize is that Thestrals are not only representations of death. Because death is not an end in itself. Because death is so heavily entwined with life, and not everyone is able to discern that connection. Because if anything, Thestrals represent life – the opening of new eyes to a changed world. A symbolic rebirth. The realization that nothing will be the same again, but you can only keep moving forwards. Life is short. It is breath and then nothing more. It exists and then it does not – an endless cycle that we cannot escape. And that is what makes it so precious.”
Harry turned back to Alphard, who had turned his eyes to the ground at the gravity of the words. “You have seen life and processed death. You care and feel deeply for those around you. But you do not extend that care to yourself.”
Alphard didn’t know how to feel as Harry seemingly stripped away a layer of his being and left him feeling strangely vulnerable. “But…I…” He swallowed heavily. “You don’t extend that care to yourself, either.” He managed, firm in his thoughts and uncertain in his feelings.
Harry drew back a little at the words. “I suppose I have…made that impression.” Harry sighed. “You and I are different. I’ve just become – accepting of death and what it entails.”
“Desensitized.” Alphard said firmly. “You speak about your life – and you really don’t think anyone will care. But I do. I really do care.” Maybe more than I’ve cared for anything in my life. “You’re powerful and talented and strong. You’re kind. You’ll be successful. I’m – just me.” The word tasted like bile on his tongue and he stared at the ground. “I’ll be kicked out of the family in the future. They’ve made that fact abundantly clear. There’s no need for me to care about myself when I’m…I’m…”
With you. He wanted to say. The words would not be torn from his throat.
Harry looked back at the Thestral, which was standing eerily still in the backdrop of the dark and expansive forest. “Forgive me.” The words were entirely unexpected. Alphard glanced up in shock. “It’s been too long since I’ve resided in an environment like this – and in the end perhaps – I have worried you, I see. I am simply too familiar with death.”
Harry walked up slowly. Alphard felt tears well up in his eyes – those tears that came from nowhere and would not stop building up despite Alphard desperately trying to force them back into his eyes.
Then he felt arms embrace him. It was warm and cold and engulfing and distant and it was something that Alphard found himself leaning into. Entrenched in this snapshot of time, Alphard felt as if he were embracing someone different than the cheery, mysterious Hufflepuff fifth-year transfer student he’d come to know, but rather an older, weary, and tired figure who only wanted to rest.
“I think that you need to see yourself as important,” Harry said softly. “Because I think that you’re very special. I said before that you’d be great. And I believe that. I truly do.”
They were such simple words. Alphard never knew how much he needed to hear them spoken sincerely, from the heart, from someone he cared about.
“Thank you, Harry.” Alphard was not sure how much time had passed when he finally drew back. Harry adjusted his glasses, which had become crooked and gave him a smile that contained so many emotions Alphard couldn’t even begin to decode it.
“I should thank you. I don’t think you realized how much of a pep talk I needed.”
“What does…pep talk mean?”
Harry laughed at the words. Alphard found the almost non-sequitur rather ridiculous in the situation as well, and found himself unwittingly joining in.
“It’s just an expression. You wanted to see Thestrals, right Alfie?” Harry walked slowly over to the lone Thestral, which watched the pair with rather intelligent eyes. Alphard didn’t correct Harry with the knowledge of why he wanted to see Thestrals if only because he wanted this moment to last as long as possible.
Harry took his hand gently and laid it on the guided it gently to the creature. Its skin was cool and smooth. It unfurled its wings as if sensing the fading hesitancy of Alphard’s motions. They were skeletal and bat-like, and Alphard thought that they were rather different. He also thought they were rather lovely.
“Life and Death in all its glory,” Hary murmured from besides him, almost subconsciously. “Take some time to get to know them. They’re gentle and they’re intelligent. You won’t regret it.”
If Alphard spent half of the night being accustomed to silent and beautiful creatures he hadn’t even thought of before Harry introduced them to him, the words certainly wouldn’t leave his mouth. If he woke up with a changed mind and a set heart and heavy eye bags, no one said anything. If he decided to try to view the world through his own lens, no one knew anything except the one who had inspired him to do so.
Alphard thought that he could cherish the night forever.
So he held the fragment of memory close to his heart, and with a new confidence hoped that it would be the first of many new memories.
***
Orion slipped into the quiet corner of the Slytherin common room where Alphard was working. “What have you been doing, Alfie?”
“Nothing of particular value.” Alphard abruptly closed the journal he had been writing in. “Was there something Riddle needed?”
Orion blinked at him. “What?”
“I mean the fact is that you don’t talk to me anymore unless Riddle tells you to.” Alphard shrugged in a forced casual manner and placed a lid on his boiling emotions. There were other people in his life now, and it was a lot easier to talk with the person who had abandoned him. “I highly doubt that would change in a few weeks.”
Orion pursed his lips a little. “Is that why you’re spending so much time with the mudblood?”
“Don’t call him that.” Alphard hissed.
The words earned him a shocked look. “That’s exactly what he is. Alphard, what exactly has been happening with you?”
“I hear you don’t call Riddle a mudblood anymore.” Alphard leaned in with a smile that dripped poison, ignoring the latter half of Orion’s words. “Must be nice, sprouting hypocritical statements like tomorrow won’t arrive. Truly the embodiment of the Black lineage, is that right?”
“You can’t say things like that!”
Heads started discreetly turning their direction, and Orion cast a quick muffling charm. There were a few members of the court that were sitting by the fireplace, but Riddle was nowhere to be found. He was most likely in the library, judging by the fact he had been spending almost every waking moment of his day there for the last week. “Why is that?” Alphard leaned against the wall with a muted look. “Because I’m going to get kicked out of the family like my parents have been threatening to do ever since they discovered my mediocracy? I wasn’t aware you cared, considering you haven’t really talked to me in all my years at Hogwarts.”
“…Riddle doesn’t like your association with the…Evans, Alfie.” Orion’s words were more hesitant that Alphard had ever heard them. “You realize how much this is going to damage your reputation?”
“Like that’s going to change anything at all.”
“STOP!” Orion snapped. “This is serious. Stop acting so immature and realize that there’s something bigger than yourself.”
“Me? Immature?” Alphard almost laughed. “What right do you have to call me that?”
Orion’s expression melted into one of seeming frustration. “I’ve been trying to do what’s best for both of us,” he said after a pause. “I realize that I haven’t spent as much time with you than when we were younger –”
“Trying to do what’s best for us?” Alphard’s mind was still stuck on what Orion had said in the first part of his statement. “Leaving me alone and ignored in my own damn House and proceeding to pretend I don’t exist when we return to our families? What part of that is doing what’s best for me?”
“You know how powerful Riddle is! I’ve spoken up for you, despite –” Orion cut off his next words with a twitch of his lips. Alphard thought he looked awfully guilty.
“Despite my mediocracy?” Alphard shrugged, and tried not to let the hurt feeling that erupted at the implied words drown him. He tried to regard the conversation like he was a stranger in his body and only existed as a spirit watching the argument unfold but utterly detached from the present. “You can say it, you know. Merlin knows that no one in the family actually hides their disappointment of me.”
“What has the mudblood been doing with you? Turning you against Slytherin?” And here Orion looked concerned. It was sick, almost sweet, how much Alphard could see the gears in his brain turning, how much he was trying to figure out what seemed like a completely different person than the quiet cousin he had known.
The flame of anger burned a little hotter in his chest. “You’ve been doing that yourself!”
“I told you,” Orion repeated like a broken record. “I’ve been trying to do what’s best for us –”
“You’re doing what’s best for you!” Alphard interrupted him as he pulled himself up from his seat. “Maybe consider the so-called bigger picture you have so fancily displayed in your mind isn’t what’s best for me. Maybe you should realize that the so-called mudblood who barely knew me has done more for me in the past month than you have for the past few years!”
“That’s not true!” Orion gripped his hand and tugged on a section of his hair. It was a thing that Orion did when he was frustrated, Alphard’s mind supplied unconsciously. “It’s not! I really have –”
“Look me in the eyes, Orion, and tell me you did not come over here just because Riddle told you to.”
Orion bit his lip. Alphard thought it was rather kind that he did not attempt to lie in his cousin’s face.
Alphard nodded. He bent over to pick up his journal and stepped away.
“Alfie, please just give me a chance to explain.”
Don’t call me that. The words would not leave his throat, like it was one last desperate attempt from his subconscious to cling onto the tattered remains of the relationship the two cousins had once had, when they were children and they peered at the world through a prism of simplicity and innocence.
It was oddly silent outside the muffling barrier. Eyes were trained on the two Blacks, and everyone had realized there was a rather momentous confrontation occurring inside, and no doubt had to do with the younger Black’s dwindling status in Slytherin.
Alphard stomped out of the common room. Orion’s eyes followed after him, but he did not attempt to call him back.
***
Annie found him on top of the Astronomy tower.
“I know it’s a nice place to clear your mind,” she smiled and offered him an orange, then said nothing more. He decided to take it.
The two figures stood together and watched the sun set.
When Alphard stepped away, tears still prickling at his eyes and a weight upon his heart that felt both lighter and heavier than what had bore him down for the past few years, Annie smiled at him in a way that made his heart ache.
“You know that we’d keep it a secret if you spent the night at the Hufflepuff dorms, right Alphard?”
“I know.”
(Why? Why couldn’t he have had this before? Why couldn’t he have had family that offered him comfort and would listen to him, who would break the rules if they thought Alphard needed it?
It was unfair, Alphard knew, to blame his siblings or his cousins – or anyone who had simply been raised the way a Black was.
But he clutched at the patchwork that was his life that he had held so desperately together. Patterns like clusters of stars dotted it and he clutched the simply white centerpiece, so different and bright and solitary. It felt as if the patchwork had been so delicately sown back together, yet the centerpiece had ripped at the seams anyway.
A simple comfort. He wished he had that luxury, before.)
Alphard smiled at the girl through his tears. Persisting through the night in the Slytherin dorms would ultimately be one of the easier things he would have to fact, now that he had chosen to tread on this path.
He offered Annie a needle and thread. “You can call me Alfie, Annie.”
The girl took them with a large smile, and slowly mended a tear at the centerpiece. “I’d be happy to, Alfie.”
***
It didn’t seem like Orion had told Riddle about the entire contents of their argument, in which Alphard had not so subtly broke the unspoken rule in Slytherin regarding Riddle’s blood status. Alphard had no doubt that while he was a member of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black and that would be enough to deter most Slytherins from directly acting against them, if Riddle developed a serious vendetta against him he would find a way to make his life hell.
He did have most of the pureblood heirs on his side, after all.
So Orion, keeping the contents of the conversation fully from Riddle, was a confusing development. Alphard wasn’t quite sure how to feel about it.
He limited the time he spent in the common room and did his best to avoid Riddle. It helped that besides Riddle joining Harry’s study group twice, he’d not shown much interest in Alphard.
Harry had come by to warn him earlier, eyes narrowed with suspicion, and whispered that he thought Riddle was going to act and that Alphard would need to stay alert.
“Black.” Tiberius Nott had come up to him one day, when Alphard was preparing to leave the common room to meet up with the rest of the study group. The fifth-year was a recent addition, having prowled around Harry for the longest time and being a known member of Riddle’s court. Alphard didn’t trust Nott as far as he could throw him with an Everte Statum. Nott wasn’t unnerving like Riddle or Harry had been – he was just downright creepy. Alphard didn’t like the way he stared at Harry like he was the newest experiment he was cultivating.
“Nott.” He greeted politely.
Nott gestured towards the common room entrance. Alphard hid a scowl. He supposed having Nott travel with him was better than going alone. He didn’t trust Nott’s intentions, but he did trust Harry’s judgement of his character, if he trusted Nott enough to join their sessions at night.
Alphard, following a memorized route, led Nott down a series of corridors that distinctly lacked the presence of portraits. Nott remained quiet until about a halfway through their trip.
“What do you think about Evans?"
Alphard couldn’t quite bite back a scowl. “What do you think?”
“I know that you’re fond of him.” Nott’s words were as measured as the crisp sound of his footsteps against the floors of the corridors. “I know that he’s as friendly as most people expect of a Hufflepuff. But I also know that he’s hidden quite a lot about himself and can be close to sadistic at times, yet he’s still managed to draw in so many people by his side.”
Alphard wondered if he should inform Nott that Harry had only cheerily threatened to gauge out the eyes of some of the Ravenclaw students because they had threatened to throw Myrtle into the Forbidden Forest and leave her there to rot. He decided that it wasn’t quite worth it, if Nott hadn’t seen that by now.
“I think that he’s an amazing person.” Alphard said honestly with a bite of annoyance in his voice. “Why do you ask that question?”
Nott tilted his head a little. “I think…” he trailed off uncharacteristically.
Alphard stopped outside the abandoned classroom where they met. “Yes?”
“What do you think of Orion?” Nott threw the non-sequitur at him with a genuinely curious look.
Alphard glared at him.
“He misses you, you know?” Nott continued to prod at his silence.
That was not something Alphard was willing to address yet. “How about we stop talking about my cousin?”
“I just want to know, Black. Please.”
“Please” was not something that a Nott said. “It’s complicated, Nott. Drop it. Was there a purpose to your questions?”
Nott continued to give him an odd look. “…Why are you so close to Evans, Black? What makes you think he’s so different from Riddle, who you’re clearly not comfortable with? How have you developed such a bond with him that you’re willing to…to abandon a relationship that you’ve had since your childhood?”
Alphard thought there was more to Nott’s questions then he was letting on. He didn’t like Nott at all, but he did think he deserved an honest answer. “He reached out to me when I fell.” At Nott’s slight frown, he continued. “I think that people are drawn to him for different reasons, Nott, and that you shouldn’t rely on me for any answers that you have.”
Nott didn’t reply to Alphard. Alphard pushed open the door to the classroom, where he saw Nephale Lovegood and Annie leaning over a cauldron. Nott followed him into the room silently.
“I suppose Time was correct once again.” Nephale turned his silvery-blue eyes onto the new arrivals. “The waves of Fate have once again been overturned.”
“Hello to you two.” Annie smiled and greeted them both enthusiastically. Alphard recalled the slurs that had been only recently directed towards her, and felt his respect for her grow. “Nephale was experimenting with a potion, and I’m here to make sure it doesn’t blow up on us.”
“So you say while you’re experimenting with the wards preventing us from blowing up,” came the drawl from Travers, sitting in a shadowed corner in the room and reading a book that was definitely not in Hogwart’s curriculum.
Gardner turned a dry look into the corner. “And who’s fault is it that the wards were nearly dispelled in the first place, Travers?”
Travers snarked something back at her. Alphard didn’t pay attention, and instead made his way over to the eccentric Nephale. “Do you know if Harry’s going to be arriving soon?” He asked the odd boy who Alphard hadn’t taken seriously before, until he realized that Nephale’s cryptic words often hinted accurately at events that he should not have known about.
Nephale gave a small flutter of his fingers as he added what looked like crushed butterfly wings into his bubbling potion. “Harry’s caught in a blizzard and storm. But he is fire, so he shall be stopping by when the winds die down.”
Alphard processed the statement. Harry would be fine, judging from the last part of Nephale’s words.
Nott leaned over, the previous almost melancholy expression that had shrouded his face disappeared. “What are you making, Nephale?”
“I’m adjusting the proportions of the wind-catching potion from last week.” Nephale smiled. “Would you like to join me?”
Alphard headed towards a corner and opened up the journal he had brought with him as Nott stepped closer to Nephale. He spent the next few minutes in silence.
The knot of worry that had been sitting in his chest only came apart when Harry threw open the door, looking as if he had been in a fight, a glimmer of relief shining in his eyes as his gaze fell on the occupants of the room. His gaze mirrored that of the relief shining in Alphard’s own eyes.
***
“And be sure that the research you’re doing with Thestrals isn’t going to be seen – the charm on your journals should work, hopefully. Merlin knows what people would think if they saw your notes about Life and Death.” Harry pressed an item into Alphard’s hand. “And this – use this when it’s necessary.”
Alphard smirked. “Haven’t you been checking my items for the last few days now? You’re worrying more than I am.”
“I can’t help it.” Harry sat back with a sigh in a bench in the courtyard. He’d strived to be more honest after their conversation in the forest. Alphard appreciated it. “It’s just that I’m worried that your parents aren’t going to be very happy about your association with me. If anything happens, there’s no convenient way for me to bypass any wards surrounding a Black manor.”
“I highly doubt you wouldn’t be able to find a way to do so anyways, Harry.”
“My mind tends to go on autopilot in a high stress situation, Alfie – that’s another muggle expression, sorry – and if I do something stupid you could end up bearing the blunt of the force.”
Alphard really wanted Harry to come with him for break. Harry was staying behind for Yule, Alphard knew, and for rather obvious reasons. But his parents would probably mutilate him for daring to taint the pure atmosphere of the Black manor. “It’s not going to be worse than before,” Alphard reassured him.
Harry did not look like he believed the younger student. He pointed to where Alphard had palmed the item Harry had given him, which was a galleon. “Tap the coin on the edge three times, and whatever you say next will appear as a message on a matching galleon I have. Limit your statement to under 10 words, though.”
Alphard brought the galleon up to his eye in curiosity. “How did you charm it?”
“I didn’t really come up with the way to charm it. I’ll tell you about it sometime later.” Harry still looked worried. “…And you’re sure that you’ll be able to write to me, right?”
“I’ll just be gone for Yule, Harry.” Alphard pushed him slightly on the shoulder. “I’ll be back in a week.”
Harry smiled. It was rather sad. “I know…but you never know what will happen in life.”
Alphard swallowed thickly at the display of vulnerability. “My parents haven’t sunk too deeply into the famed Black madness yet.” He tried to lighten the mood. “They’re not going to seriously hurt family, even if I’ve disappointed them.”
Harry only pursed his lips. “Fine, but at least keep the galleon close to you, alright?”
Alphard grinned. He gripped the coin in his hand tighter. “Sure, sure. Don’t you have someone else to go bother about our break?” He joked.
Harry swatted him. Alphard laughed, and the sound was clear in the cold and biting winter air.
***
Orion slipped into his train compartment. The rest of the Slytherin court was distinctly missing.
Alphard closed the enchanted journal Harry had gifted him, where he was currently sketching a newly-detailed diagram of a Thestral. Harry had informed him that to anyone else barring himself and Harry, it would look like he was sketching Rune symbols and writing notes off in the margins.
“…How are you planning on spending break?” Orion cut the tension in the air awkwardly.
“Same old.” Alphard shrugged, focusing his gaze on the window overlooking their compartment. Harry was still waving at him from outside. “Spending time alone, opening up the presents my family members are forced to give me, listening to them scold me for associating with a mudblood, and spending more time alone.”
Orion sat down besides Alphard.
“Abandoned by Riddle?”
“I’m choosing to spend time away from him.”
“Uh-huh.”
Conversation cut off again. Harry was still waving at him when the train pulled away. A familiar warmth bubbled within him again. Alphard didn’t think he’d ever seen his family watch him leaving for Hogwarts like they missed him already.
“Riddle isn’t obsessively researching in the library anymore.” Orion suddenly spoke again after a few moments. His eyes were glued onto the curtains that Alphard had spelled close a little while after the train had started moving. “And we all know that it was because of…Evans. So Riddle and Evans may start…getting along.”
Alphard snorted. “Sure. Is this an attempt to tell me I can go back to lurking about the sidelines of the court without worrying about one of its members trying to put me in the hospital wing for associating with a mudblood?”
“Listen, Alfie.” Orion turned his gaze to Alphard, who was still pointedly looking away from him and at his journal. “I’m sorry for insulting your friend. I thought he was just taking advantage of you…for being a Black?”
Alphard rolled his eyes despite the seething anger towards his cousin mixed into the concoction that was his emotions he didn’t feel like addressing anytime soon. “He’s not. He’s my friend. ”
“I know that now.” Orion’s hand went to tug at his hair. “It’s just that Riddle is really powerful, Alfie. And you wouldn’t have wanted to get involved with him – I know you. If you’d been associated closely with me, there’s no chance you wouldn’t have gotten more closely involved with the court, whether you’d have liked it or not.”
That was…more of an explanation than Alphard would have been expecting. “Did you expect me to understand that? Or is that what you’re telling yourself to justify your actions?”
“Alfie.”
“I don’t like Riddle. That’s true. But you know that I’m closest to you. Walburga hates me and Cygnus doesn’t give me the light of day. And you just left me to deal with an entire House that prides itself on power, status, and ability. And since I’m distinctly lacking two of the three traits, you know people would only barely tolerate me. No.” He cut off Orion, who was opening his mouth. “You’re not as brainless as you seem to want to appear to be. You know the inner workings of the Slytherin hierarchy well enough.”
“Harry,” Alphard emphasized. “Not only became my friend, but he was the one to encourage me to start living life for myself. It seems to me like you still haven’t found that motivation yet, with your continued association with the court and the time you’re spending with my sister, despite your obvious distaste for her.”
His conversation, his connections, and all the members of the study group, whether they realized it or not, had slowly mended the centerpiece of his patchwork of life. And Harry had been the one to guide the thought over and over into his mind – the centerpiece was different, yes. But that did not mean he was alone.
He had taught himself to be whole.
“That’s rather wise.” Orion laughed in a way that Alphard knew meant he was trying to deflect Alphard’s words. “But Evans is not a Slytherin, Alfie, and he does not reside in the Slytherin dorms. Please, please, just consider your position in Slytherin, and not have everyone shun you even more.” He almost repeated his words from the argument the two Blacks had had in the Slytherin common room.
Alphard thought about what Orion had said before he went to speak again. If Orion had truly wanted to keep Alphard safe by keeping him from associating with the court, why had he still tried to draw him into the cover of the protection of that very same court? Why was he still here, trying to convince Alphard to reconsider the path he was treading?
Alphard knew, despite whatever he may feel for Orion, that his cousin did care for him. Now, he also thought that Orion seemed a lot like him. Like Alphard, who had hated the way his family treated him and clung onto his cheerful cousin, trying to convince Orion to spend more time with him despite fearing any retaliation if his parents were to think he was leading the Heir of the House of Black to shirk his duties.
He wondered if Orion was lonely, like him. Like the huntsman that had pushed everyone away in his madness, and died alone from a scorpion sting. Like the lone star that hung brilliantly in the sky, eye-catching and shining and yet always so, so solitary.
Alphard didn’t think he’d ever have been perceptive enough to notice, not until he had finally mended his own patchwork.
Alphard finally looked at Orion, right into his windy grey eyes, and hesitantly extended an olive branch. “We could try to spend some time together over break, if you’d like.”
Orion grinned hugely, perceiving the olive branch for what it was. Alphard did not miss the wave of relief that washed over his expression. “I can’t say no to that, can I?”
Immediately, he slipped back into his carefree persona, leaning over to glance at Alphard’s journal, a comment already dancing at his lips. Alphard decided to humor him.
He was not looking forward to Yule, spent in a home that had always been too big and cold and lonely. But here, in the comfort of a small train cabin in the company of his cousin who he had never truly wanted to leave behind, and with a coin that represented care and concern weighing down his pocket, and with the thoughts of the study group he’d found himself accepted into, and certainly with the idea that there would be someone waiting for him to return to Hogwarts –
Alphard thought he could truly understand what it meant to see the world through new eyes. He decided that he liked this new world much better than the one that he’d resided in before, before he’d shut his eyes and crashed into a boy who had offered him an arm and a friendship he’d forever cherish.