Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

因我们并不是与属血气的争战，乃是与那些执政的、掌权的、管辖这幽暗世界的恶魔争战。

For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness.

It was from the moment that the shiny Head Girl Badge toppled out of the envelope that Carina Vail knew that she was in for a hell of a year.

Owl season. It was that time of the summer when all her contacts from Britain, friend or foe, seemed to decide to send mail at once. Or, more likely, the post was held up before getting shipped to Shanghai in one giant bundle. The Ministry’s laws on international correspondence were confusing. She’d tried to get her friends to use iMessage, but most of them lived in magical households, making technology virtually impossible——and dangerously volatile, judging by the shell-shocked looks they’d given her whenever she mentioned the app. Ever since then, she had given up and accepted her fate. Sure enough, seconds later, another owl flew in through her window, plopping a colossal stack of letters on her desk. She eyed the pile with dread. It was like the owls waited until they had a full load to justify the long flight, consequences to her sanity be damned.

“Great,” she grumbled. “Just what I needed. More post.”

Carina didn’t even need to read the one on top to know that it was from Delphinus Black, her self-appointed academic rival——it was evident enough from the fancy script and the expensive-looking parchment. The letter was written in his usual snarky tone.

Did you get Head Girl? I’d be surprised if you didn’t, considering the bunch of nitwits the others are. Then again, who knows how much your half-blood brain has degraded throughout the summer. Maybe your Muggle relatives are rubbing off of you.

I, of course, was appointed the honorable title of Head Boy; Aunt Narcissa and Uncle Lucius were ever so proud when I received my badge. They’re hosting a celebratory gala next week in my honor. Bet you wish your Muggle-loving parents would do the same for you.

Don’t be too downcast, my aunt and uncle wouldn’t be too opposed if you were to attend as well, on the condition that you actually are Head Girl, of course. Perhaps you’d like to finally see what a real Pureblood gathering is like. Just remember to RSVP.

My summer has been ever so intellectually fulfilling. Aunt and Uncle have hired the best tutors to prepare me for my N.E.W.T.s, which, as you know, are coming up this year. They say I’m the fastest student they’ve ever taught——I’ve already finished skimming Textbooks 1-3. Don’t be in a hurry to catch up, though. I bet you’re somewhere studying your little half-blood heart out, no matter how fruitless it’ll be.

Carina looked up and glanced at her writing desk. Aside from the letters, it was virtually empty, save for her booklist and a couple of battered comics.

Yeah, right.

She snorted and went back to reading the letter.

Hurry up and reply; International Owling is ridiculously expensive. Don’t know why you even bother to live in that silly isolated country of yours. If I were you, I would have moved already.

Carina rolled her eyes, shoving the parchment back into its sheath in disgust. "Silly isolated country," he called the largest magical nation on earth. Absolutely typical. The envelope was signed with an arrogant flourish, probably signaling the exponential inflation of his ego upon the delivery of his badge. As if it really needed to be stoked. 

She brightened when she saw the neat script on the next letter. It was from 常若秋 (Cháng Ruòqiū), her best friend and partner in crime, though they’d never agreed on naming conventions. Cho insisted on using ‘Cho Chang’ at Hogwarts, a simplification that made Carina’s teeth itch. Why conform to such a ridiculous Western system? Carina certainly never had; she was 风铭羽 (Fēng Míngyǔ) at home and Carina Vail everywhere else. It was nice, having a foot in each world.

Carina
I hope you’ve had a good summer. Mum wants to know when you’re arriving in England so we can go to Diagon together. Owl me when you have time, okay? Xx. Cho.

Carina smiled. If anything could cheer her up, it was a letter from Cho. There was no one else on the entire planet that knew her better than dark-haired girl; just the thought of seeing her and her affable, gossip-loving mother made Carina’s heart leap with joy. It was almost enough to forget Black’s bigoted preachings.

Almost.

The second letter was from Angelina Johnson. It was filled with her customary amount of exuberance——the kind that made Carina marvel at how little societal oppression the girl had received.

Hey girl!!!

I’m gonna cut to the chase here and congratulate you for something we all knew was gonna happen. Is the badge really as shiny as it looks in the school pictures? You’ll have to lend it to me sometime so I can see it in person.

If some troll-brained Hufflepuff got Head Girl over you, pretend the first paragraph didn’t exist. Then owl me so we can storm Dumbledore’s office. Fred and George have the dungbombs ready, just say the word.

Carina raised an eyebrow at the offer, but plowed on, taking a mental note to check the Twins for any suspicious activity.

I’m kidding! Everyone knows you’re gonna get the position. Dumbledore would be senile for not appointing you.

Oh, and speaking of positions… You’re looking at the letter of the very newest Gryffindor Quidditch captain! That’s right, I’m polishing the pin as we speak. Or write. Whatevs, this is weird. You’re still alternating with Jordan for the commentary, right? Make us sound good.

How’s summer been? Can’t wait to get back to Hogwarts. Mum’s driving me mental about my N.E.W.T.s—I swear they’re the only thing she talks about these days. I’m in my room pretending to revise. Get your arse to Diagon. I need new gloves and maybe Firewhisky. Jordan and the team are throwing something before school starts. You’re coming. No arguments.

—A

A hissing noise came from the background. It didn’t take too long to discover the source. Fizzing in the most suspicious manner, one of the envelopes on her table bucked and bulged, spewing erratic clouds of colorful smoke from the openings.

Uh oh.

Well, that would be the Twins’ letter, then. They had probably found some new, more disruptive way of getting in touch to try on her. At least they saved her the trouble of having to check the signature.

Better get it over with. Using Black’s letter as a shield, she braced herself and slit it open with one hand, squeezing her eyes shut. The sooner you do it, the sooner it’ll be over.

BANG!

The letter exploded violently, filling the air with the smell of candy.

When she gathered enough courage to re-open her eyes, the entire room was covered in glitter and confetti, and in the place of the letter was an origami head with two faces on it. They didn’t give time for Carina to reel in shock——their paper mouths started opening and closing, producing sounds that were only intelligible if she listened closely.

“Alright there, Vail? This is Gred and Forge speaking. We’ve got news for you.”

Carina rolled her eyes in fond exasperation. Trust the Weasley twins to create a messier, doubly deadly version of a Howler.

“Our baby brother——”

“The one and only ickle Ronniekins, you’ve met him——”

“Was made prefect!” The faces chorused.

“Him, can you believe? Dumbledore must be going mad! Oh, speaking of which——”

“We had an inking——”

“The entire school has the inkling, it’s not an inkling anymore at this point, it’s an inklord——”

“We had an inklord that you and a certain dark prat have been appointed, ahem, well, we can’t really say the words——”

“Not ever since Percy became one; Bill was already enough——”

“Anyways, if it’s official, congrats!”

“If it’s not, we’ll just have to prank the lights out of whoever dares usurp the mighty throne of the Vale.” The face on the left——George, she presumed——concluded. Another puff of glitter blasted from his nostrils. He looked so ridiculous Carina couldn’t help but laugh.

“We’ve got something big in the works this year, actually,”‘Fred’ jerked his paper mouth down in an approximation of a pout. “It’s quite sad. Now that you’re Head Girl, you won’t be able to have fun with us anymore.”

“Yeah, now we can’t expect you to cover for us when we’ve screwed up. You’ve got higher duties.” ‘George’ said it in the same tone one would say ‘genital herpes’.

“At least you won’t rub it in our faces,” the other face supplied.
“You know, like that git Percy.”

“Oh yeah, your old boss. He’s been a right prat this summer, you know that? Had a huge row with Dad. First week since term ended.”

“Apparently, he’d been promoted by Fudge for a really important position——Junior Assistant for the Minister. Bit dodgy, ‘specially since his last job with Crouch——you know how that turned out.”

“Dad reckoned the Ministry was using him to spy on us, because our family is friendly with Dumbledore and all that——speaking of which, have you seen the Prophet recently?”

Momentarily forgetting this was a pre-recorded letter and they couldn’t see her reactions, she shook her head. The Daily Prophet didn’t ship internationally, which was fine by her. That newspaper was unreliable in the best times and downright malicious in the worst.

“In case you don’t already know, Dumbledore’s been voted out of a bunch of his titles. Chief Wizard, Chairman of ICW, and they’re even talking about taking away his Order of Merlin.”

“The Ministry’s been trying to discredit him ever since he started saying that You-Know-Who’s back.”

“Fudge hasn’t been discreet about it either. He’s been storming the Ministry, telling all the officials they can all clear out their desks if they’re friendly with Dumbledore——”

“——they’re even having a go at Harry, if you can believe it. Dude was attacked by a dementor and all the Ministry did was put him on trial for underage magic.”

“WHAT?”

Carina shot up from her chair. A dementor? After Harry? The fifteen-year-old boy?

She remembered her fifth year. The dementors had filled up the school with their dark, flappy hoods and bone-chilling presences that left her feeling like she was drowning in the Black lake. She had only made it through her O.W.L.s with the help of Professor Lupin. Even the ever-amused Twins had been affected. They sent that after Harry Potter?

The double-headed Howler’s mouths were still opening and closing, but Carina let their voices slide around her. She slumped in her seat, mind whirring from the information. Maybe her ears were deceiving her. She wondered if Black’s letter came with some hallucination-inducing venom. Carina wouldn’t put it past him to poison the only person in their grade with higher O.W.L. scores than him.

Cedric Diggory killed. Dementors attacking students. Dumbledore demoted. One series of events after another, like tiles tipping down on the giant domino board of the Wizarding War. It made Carina wonder if Magical Britain had no credible form of government.

“——But enough about the bigheads!”

The abrupt change in tone jerked Carina back to attention.

“Yeah, let’s talk about us! Angelina’s been made captain, do you know? Slytherin won’t stand a chance. Lee’s already practicing his victory speech—”

“—needs you there to fix his grammar, of course. And censor the swearing—”

“He’s throwing this thing over at his house and he wants you to come, blah blah blah. We won’t bore you with the details——”

“Pretty sure he’s already told you himself. Dude can’t keep his mouth shut.”

“Take care of yourself, will you? Wouldn’t want anything to happen to you in that little country of yours——”

“Nothing you won’t be capable of handling yourself, we know, but——”

“Be careful, okay? That’s all we’re asking.”

With that not-so-reassuring reassurance, the faces dropped to the floor with the loud, fart-like squeak of a deflating balloon, leaving behind a room of confetti and Carina to process the disturbing message on her own.

There came a shout from downstairs.

“你没事吧？我从你房间里听到了爆炸声。“ (Are you okay? I heard an explosion from your room. )

”没事的妈！我朋友的搞得恶作剧。“  She yelled back, jerking open her door. (It’s okay, mom! Some friends from school are pulling a prank.)

“没受伤就行。” came her faint reply. (As long as you’re not hurt.) 

“你准备好上学的东西了吗？” (Are you prepared for school?)

”准备好了妈。我这下午就能去，你不用操心了。“ (Yes, I’m ready. I can go this afternoon. You don’t have to worry.)

After placating her mom, Carina shut the door carefully and sank to the floor. She sighed and closed her eyes. The rest of the unopened letters sat on her desk like a lit fuse, but she ignored them. She was too mentally exhausted to deal with them now. The mail could wait. The world of owls and parchment had dumped enough on her for one morning.

There was only one person who might have a clue what was really going on back in England, without the Ministry filter or the pure-blood posturing. And he communicated the way she preferred: instantly, and without glitter.

She pulled out her phone, and as expected, the screen was flooded with a cascade of unread messages from Lee Jordan.

(June 30)

Lee: project update: WHATEVER YOU DID TO MY IPOD, IT WORKS. no smoke. no meltdowns. first time I could do magic in the house without anything exploding. genius

Lee: [video]

Lee: playback test. sound is insane. makes the wireless sound like a peeves moaning through a wall

Lee: problem: battery’s getting nuked. magic and electricity are having a tiny war inside the casing. your turn. need that big brain. it’s your spell

(July 1)

Lee: okay the twins just tried to charm the microwave to ‘pre-heat faster’. it now plays the hogwarts school song on a loop whenever you open the door. mum is furious. send help. or earplugs. the statute doesn’t work on relatives of muggleborns, apparently

Lee: [video]

(July 3)

Lee: sis bought me a thing called a ‘fidget spinner’. it’s… weirdly compelling. do you think we could enchant it to never stop? ultimate distraction device for snape’s classes.

Lee: [photo]

(July 10)

Lee: [screenshot]

Lee: look. 28 degrees. ‘sunny’. it’s a lie. it’s grey and drizzling. muggle technology is a fraud, vail.

(July 18)

Lee: found a documentary about meerkats. they stand up just like puffskeins looking for food. thought you’d appreciate the comparison.
Lee: [YouTube link]

(July 29)

Lee: johnson keeps floo-calling to talk about quidditch drills. my fireplace is covered in soot. i’m considering moving to a tent.

(August 3)

Lee: [photo]

(August 12)

Lee: the twins have been quiet for 24 hours. this is not a good sign. should i check on them?

Lee: i checked on them. i now have pink hair. send that corrosive candy. i need to eat my feelings.

(August 20)

Lee: oi. you alive over there? or did you finally snap and push black off the great wall?

Lee: twins are up to something MASSIVE. not supposed to tattle but its BIG. kinda worried.

Lee: hello? you didn’t die did you

Lee: vail. i will send a howler to china i swear to merlin

Spam, spam, and more spam. Now she remembered why she left the texts on read. She scrolled down to the most recent message.

(15:07)

Lee: oi. you alive?

Lee: heard a rumour you got a shiny new badge. fred thinks it’s a gov’t conspiracy. george thinks it’s a prank. i think it’s hilarious. details.

Lee: i’m throwing a thing at my flat (don’t call it a flat to the twins, they’re being ponces about it). pre-term. my speakers are already charmed to bypass the neighbours.

Lee: we need more of those little battery things. the flat ones. and the sour sweets that make your teeth scream.

Finally, something that made sense. The clicking of the keyboard filled the room as she started typing in the conversation box.

Carina: The badge is real. There’s a distinct lack of other qualified candidates. Dumbledore’s desperate.

Carina: The battery drain is the spell’s magical field interacting with the electrochemical process. It’s creating resistance. We need to layer a second charm to act as an insulator, not just a shield. I’ve drafted something but I can’t test it without turning my room into a crater. My mom has zero tolerance for magical explosions and will call the fire brigade. The Muggle one.

Carina: And tell the twins if their ‘massive thing’ gets my new badge stripped in week one, I’m using their wands as chopsticks.

Carina: I’ll bring the batteries and the corrosive candy. Don’t blow up your flat before I get there.

Lee: KNEW you were alive. insulator charm. right. on it.

Lee: chopsticks. lol. they’d break. too brittle.

Lee: [GIF]

Lee: see you soon, head girl. don’t forget the goods

Carina set the phone down and made a beeline for her bed, sprawling face-first to the duvet. From her high vantage point, she rolled over and observed the confetti-covered, glittery mess that had once been her room. How long would it take for her to clean that up? She was tempted to just close her eyes and pretend it wasn’t there. Procrastination was a happy thing.

WHACK. A sharp, painful peck struck her shoulder.

“Ow, ow, ow. Stop! What is wrong with you!”

She raised her eyes to enormous yellow ones staring back at her. They would’ve been cute, if it hadn’t been for the potent disappointment in them. She groaned, closed her eyes again and tried to ignore it, but failed as the owl continued pecking at her.

“Go away! What do you want?!“

“什么？“ (What?)

”不是你，妈妈。” She replied wearily, sending a glare at the owl. (Not you, mom.)

The bird looked at her with its bulbous eyes, then looked at her writing table. It took her about a minute to register what it meant.

“You want me to finish the replies?”

The owl jerked its head in an approximation of a nod.

Was it for real?

The bird didn’t move. It didn’t seem like it was joking. Carina really didn’t want to take her chances against the large, possibly murderous avian emissary.

“Fine,” she snapped. She grabbed a strip of jerky from her snack stash and flung it at the owl, who caught it in its beak and gobbled it down with a satisfied ruffle of its feathers. “Take that and don’t bother me until I’m done.”

Grabbing a pen and paper, Carina resigned herself to a morning of boredom.

Dear Cho

Tell auntie I’ll be there by the 25th. I’ve still got to pick up on some supplies——we can do our shopping together. Angelina needs gloves, and I need some headache potion courtesy of our newest Head Boy. Tell you in person about it. Love you.

-C

Johnson,

Yes, I got it. The badge is suitably shiny. Tell the twins to hold the dungbombs off for now, but I have a feeling we’ll need them quite soon. Especially once you know who the new Head Boy is. Forget troll-brained Hufflepuffs, I’d take an army of them over that imbecile any day.

Congratulations, Captain. We all saw that coming. Try not to beat the other teams too badly—as commentary, I’m obligated to maintain a neutral stance. Lee will be thrilled, though. I hear he’s already practicing his victory speech. Tell him not to get too cocky, and I’m in for whatever he’s planning. See you in Diagon.

-Vail

To Fred and George

Your methods of delivery are, as always, needlessly explosive. You have my mum convinced that Wizarding mail is some sort of assault. Well done, I hope you’re proud of yourselves.

Tell your brother I said congratulations. And yes, I’ve spared you the effort of having to storm Dumbledore’s office. Applaud me.

Your “works” sound ominous. Try to keep it in the dark, will you? There’s nothing wrong with me turning the occasional blind eye, but the new Head Boy isn’t going to be as lenient if he finds out. If he does, I’m not taking the fall for whatever you’re doing.

This business against Harry sounds serious. We’ll talk about it in person. Let’s meet up after the prefect meeting. Old compartment on the train.
Try not to blow up the school until I graduate.

-C

Finally, she came to the last and the letter she was looking forward to the least.

Dear Delphi, she began in an aggressive scrawl, knowing that the nickname would aggravate him more than the terrible handwriting.

I was pleasantly surprised when I received your correspondence, which is more than I can say for your actual person. I would ask you how your summer was, but you just spent three or four paragraphs congratulating yourself, so I feel adequately informed.

Congratulations on getting appointed Head Boy. I’m sure the badge will look fitting next to your perpetually blown-up head.

As for your invitation, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. While a gathering full of people I don’t know sounds lovely, I’m afraid I have plans that night. And every other night. For the rest of my life.

It’s touching, really, how much you care about my blood status and academic prowess. Rest assured my “halfblood brain” is functioning well enough to outperform most of your pureblood acquaintances without your army of tutors to hold my hand. Yes, you heard me. I’m sure that concept is difficult for you to understand, given you had to go such lengths to brag about it.

Hey, Black. A quick FYI? Tutors are hired to aid the ACADEMICALLY STRUGGLING. Way to slot yourself into that stereotype.

Kindly refrain from wasting your expensive owl post on me. I’m sure the Ministry tracks frivolous use of avian resources.

Carina Vail

Head Girl

Satisfied, she sealed the letters with a content smile. For once, even the owl looked approving as she strapped the envelope to its leg. “You’ll be able to find your way back, I presume?”

The owl looked at her as if to say: stupid human. She ignored the bird’s apparent disdain and continued with the letter-packing.

“The one on the top is for Cho, the middle is for Johnson, and the one with purple ink is for the Weasley twins,” Carina instructed. “As for this one,” she gestured to Black’s letter, “you can throw wherever you want. I don’t care.”

The owl nodded in its weird, half-complete way and bid the dwelling farewell with a graceful flap of its wings. Carina watched its silhouette become a tiny brown speck against the azure sky, soaring into the far distance. She jolted as a knocking came at her door.

“你房间为什么闻起来像糖果？”  (Why does your room smell like candy?)

Chapter Text

The Portkey deposited her directly inside the Leaky Cauldron. After several dizzying waves of vertigo, the world righted itself on its axis and the pub swam into shaky focus. Carina fought the urge to upchuck the contents of her stomach onto the dingy floor. She had done this a million times; she should be used to it. Fucking international travel.

Tom the bartender shot a familiar wave at her across the counter. She slid into a chair and ordered a glass of water, pushing a few sickles across weathered wood.

“‘Lo, Tom.” Her voice was still unsteady from the nausea.

“Miss Vail! Here for your textbooks?”

“You’ll bet. Monster of a year coming up.”

“Got your N.E.W.T.s, eh?” The old bartender smiled knowingly. 

“If I only had that to worry about,” she said ruefully. “Between last year’s patrolling schedule and this year’s booklist, I swear the teachers are trying to work us to death.”

“Ah, almost forgot you were a prefect. Never liked them back in my day. Uppity lot, they were. Always taking away points and telling people off…” Tom scowled, then caught himself. “Er… No offense. But you’re a good sort.”

“They’re still uppity now,” Carina confided, leaning forward. “I’ve got some colleagues I’d rather hex than work with. But it’s my last year. I just have to survive it.” She took a sip of her water, a slow smile spreading across her face. “And this year? I outrank them. Guess who got appointed Head Girl?”

“You didn’t…” Tom’s eyes narrowed, taking note of her sheepish expression. Then his eyes widened in surprise. “You didn’t!” 

He broke out into a full, toothy grin, letting out a loud, happy laugh that turned a few heads in the pub. “Bless my buttons, miss Vail. Head Girl! Oh, my!”

“I didn’t expect it either,” Carina confessed. “For a moment I thought my friends were playing a prank on me. Feels surreal even now.”

“Oh, your parents must be so proud! This calls for something stronger, I believe.” He grabbed a fresh glass and a bottle of amber liquid. “This one’s on me.”

“Oh I couldn’t,” she protested.

“No, I insist. What you need right now is a proper toast,” he said, pouring a generous measure. “To our new Hogwarts Head Girl!”

“To surviving the year.” Her glass clinked against Tom’s empty one. Despite herself, she found her lips jerking up into a smile——the first genuine one since the badge had tumbled onto her bed.

She was three-fourths throughout her drink, a pleasant buzz humming in her blood, when a voice cut through the clamor of the pub.

“Carina!”

What felt like a human-sized bullet barreled into her, sending her reeling backwards. On pure instinct, Carina was on her feet——but she overestimated her alcohol-addled balance. The world tilted sharply, and she would’ve crashed straight into the tables if a pair of steady hands hadn’t caught her, wrapping her firmly into a tight, warm hug. 

She squinted. Cho Chang’s worried face sharpened into clarity.

“若秋?” (Ruoqiu?)

“Are you okay? Did you just get here? Why do you smell like alcohol?” Cho wrinkled her nose at the apparent odor, but didn’t let go of her. “Wait. Have you been drinking?”

“A little,” said Carina, her face the picture of innocence.

“Only a little?” Cho raised an eyebrow. Carina lasted approximately two seconds under the gaze. 

“Fine, I’m plastered,” she admitted, without an ounce of guilt. “But it was just half a glass. And it was free. Blame Tom.”

“Half a glass?” Cho snorted incredulously. “Bloody lightweight. Can you even walk?” 

“Maybe,” after trying to take a few wobbly steps, she gave up and slumped against her friend. “Or I could just do this.”

“Hey Tom,” Cho called. “Mind if I steal Carina here before she drinks herself stupid?”

“Not at all, miss Chang,” Tom said cheerily. “She’s all yours.”

With one arm firmly around Carina, Cho swooped down and downed the dregs of her drink. She made a face. “Right, we’re leaving. Come on, you. I promised Angelina we’d meet her outside.”

“Bye, Tom!” Carina waved as Cho dragged her out of the pub.

The cool London air blasted her in the face as they emerged from the entrance to Diagon. Carina blinked, disoriented, when Cho propped her against the brick wall. “What are you… doing?” 

“Is your mother here with you?” Carina shook her head. Cho sighed. “Knew it. Right, you stay here and don’t move, okay? I’m going to get you a Sobering Draught from the apothecary. I can’t have mum seeing you like this. I swear she’ll kill both of us if you vomit on her carpets.”

Carina nodded, only understanding half of what she was saying. “Stay here. Don’t move. Got it.”

“Good girl.” Carina watched her disappear down the alley, then closed her eyes, enjoying the gentle, alcohol-induced swirl of the world around her. The sun-warmed brick was sturdy and comforting against her back; she leaned heavily against it, basking in the warmth. Somewhere in the background, she could hear the calls of the various animals: the yelping of the Crups, the soft hoots from Owl Emporium, the mewing of the Kneazles… It reminded her a little of the old American Shorthair she used to feed when she was younger. People called the cat “Xiaobao”, but at twenty-one months she hadn’t been able to pronounce it and called him “Baobao” instead. Eventually, the nickname stuck around, but Baobao hadn’t. He died when she was four.

How odd it was, to recall a time where a dead cat was the biggest problem in her life. If only past Carina could see her now. 

A boy charged past her with his parent, demanding ice cream from Fortescue’s. They ignored the weird, drunk girl leaning against the wall. Normally, Carina would have felt a pang of jealousy, sadness, or something, but now, under the influence of the drink, she couldn’t care less. Her lips quirked up in a content smile. It was intoxicating, this absence of emotion. To think of it, she hadn’t felt this relaxed since last year. 

She frowned. That shouldn’t be. What had changed? Her mind jumped immediately to a grey-eyed, smirking face. Black. It was all Black’s fault. That bloody poser. 

Carina let her head thud back against the brick. Maybe if she wished hard enough, the wall would just… swallow her up. She could be a decorative fixture for a year. The Drunk Girl of Diagon Alley. Yeah, that had a nice ring to it. And it had to be less stressful than being Head Girl. She wouldn’t even have to see Black anymore!

“Vail! That you?” A familiar voice rang out through the bustle of Diagon’s streets, jerking her out of her thoughts. Angelina Johnson was weaving through the crowd towards her, a broad grin on her face and her Quidditch robes slung over her arm.

“Merlin’s beard, you look like hell warmed over. Did you lose a duel with a keg of Butterbeer?” 

“Johnson,” Carina slurred, pushing herself upright in a poor attempt at dignity. “Just… scouting the vicinity.”

“Yeah, right. For liquor bottles, maybe. Where’s your double?” Angelina looked around, hoping to catch sight of their friend’s telltale black hair. “Cho finally had enough of you?”

“Sober-Up potion,” Carina managed, gesturing vaguely in the direction Cho had gone. “Carpets. Her mum’s… carpets are very important.”

Angelina let out a brief laugh, attracting a few stares. “So. What’s with the long face? Thought you’d be happy, with the promotion and all.”

“Oh, I’m thrilled,” Carina declared, the sarcasm heavy in her tone.“It’s always been my dream to spend my final year working with…” 

“With?”

“With the most insufferable gnat to ever be gifted with a vocabulary,” she concluded. “Just what I needed.”

“Hmm, let me think,” Angelina stroked her chin, putting on a dramatic air of careful consideration. “Prat-headed, articulate, and one of your colleagues? Sounds like a quarter of our school.”

“Take a wild guess,” drawled Carina, her eyes fixed longingly on the wall. She was still a bit miffed about having her fantasies interrupted. Seconds earlier and she would’ve finished solving all her problems.

“Ophelia Nott?” Her friend was clearly enjoying it, stretching her words out in a way that would’ve made Carina hit her if she was sober. Unfortunately, she wasn’t, so she just went with it.

“Nah. Too scared of me.”

“As she should be.” Angelina dropped her accent. “I don’t think the Astronomy Tower’s been the same ever since. Terrence Higgs?”

Carina leveled her with a flat stare. “Graduated. Are you even trying?”

“Sorry, sorry,” she raised her hands in surrender. “There’s only one candidate left, then. But it surely cannot be!”

“Say it,” Carina urged. Put me out of my misery.

“It surely cannot be…” Angelina stage-whispered, in a perfect imitation of Professor Trelawney. Her voice grew to a shriek, infused with exaggerated shock. “It surely cannot be… Delphinus Black?!”

“Bingo. You got it,” cheered Carina without an ounce of enthusiasm in her voice. There came a lackluster round of clapping from the side. 

“You owe me six Sickles and a new pair of eyes. That was the most pathetic piece of acting I’ve ever seen.” Cho was back, a vial of pearlescent liquid in one hand. “Hey, Angelina. Perfect timing. I see you’ve greeted the lightweight.”

Angelina jerked a thumb at Carina. “Found her moping against the wall. I think she’s just sad she doesn’t get to blow anyone up this year.”

“It was one time!” Carina protested. “And I apologized right after.”

“Nott was in the Hospital Wing for a month,” Cho reminded her bluntly. 

“Oh, yeah. Fred and George still think you’re a hero for doing that, by the way. They’ve got a betting pool on how long it’ll take you to snap and hex Black.” 

“Don’t give her any ideas, she’s not hexing anyone in this state,” Cho said firmly, thrusting the vial in Carina’s direction. “One Sobering Draught, for the drunkard. Drink up.” 

“Yes, Mother.” Carina uncorked the bottle gingerly and downed its contents in one gulp. It tasted bitter. Like her future.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Angelina waved a hand in her face. Carina batted it away impatiently.

“Go away. I’m drunk, not blind.”

“Excellent. Now everyone’s here and in their right mind, we can finally get some shopping done!” Angelina wrenched her arm out of Carina’s grip. “I need new gloves, and Lee told me the new Nimbus polish is in. Makes the twigs 'twitchier' or something. Sounds like rubbish, so I'll probably buy it."

“My Comet needs something as well,” Cho said ruefully. “I don’t think it’ll matter anymore, though——everyone has newer and better brooms now.”

Cho and Angelina chatted animatedly about Quidditch as the trio made their way through the streets of Diagon. Carina listed slightly to the left like a ship in a gentle storm while she waited for the draught’s effects to kick in. "I should've let you finish your drink," Cho mused. "You're much easier to maneuver when you're passed out."

“I’ll have a comeback to that when I’m sober,” Carina groaned. “Right now, by all means, take advantage of my inebriated state.”

“Poor thing.” Angelina poked her in the cheek. “Even her insults have gone slack.”

“That’ll teach you to drink anything on an empty stomach,” chided Cho. “What were you thinking?”

“I didn’t have to. That was the whole point of the drink!”

After a few minutes, the floor no longer spinning so viciously, Carina followed the other two across the pavement. They passed a large, shabby building that seemed out of place compared to the other two shops it was wedged between. Its windows were boarded up, signaling that it was closed. 

“Have the Twins mentioned any of their plans to you this summer?” Angelina brought up off-handedly, eyes lingering on the dilapidated structure. For some reason, she seemed to be particularly interested.

“Oh, they just said stuff about Harry and Ron. The usual. They also mentioned having ‘something big in the works’.” Carina replied halfheartedly. Something in Angelina’s tone struck her. “Wait.”

She followed Angelina’s line of sight to the building. “Hang on…”

Maybe it was the Sobering Draught, but her brain seemed to be working slower than usual. It took her a few seconds before her gears turned, coming to the most plausible conclusion. Her face contorted into a mask of pure horror.

“Oh my god, they haven’t decided to blow up a building, have they?!” 

She stumbled up to grimy wall, hands joined in a prayer. “This is all my fault. I should’ve set a better example, I’m supposed to be a role model, for goodness sake——”

“Carina, stop,”

“I knew the Nott incident affected them more severely than I thought, I just didn’t expect it to manifest in this sort of way. Are they going to lure all the Slytherins in and——”

“Carina.” Angelina gripped her shoulders, cutting off her delirious rambling. “Carina, listen to me. They are not going to blow up that building.” 

She brightened. “They’re not?”

“They’re going to buy it.”

Her responding shriek pierced the noon air of Diagon Alley, startling more than a few owls. 

“WHAT?!”

A couple interrogations later, Carina still felt dubious as she fell into step behind the other two inside Flourish and Blotts. “Are you sure they didn’t just rob Gringotts?”

“For the millionth time, Vail, everything they’re doing is perfectly legal.”

“But are you sure?” She pressed. The other girl gave an exasperated eye-roll.

“For Merlin’s sake, I’m sure!” 

“I’m sure the Twins will tell you themselves when they’re ready,” interjected Cho placidly. “In person.”

“Fine.” Carina shut up for three seconds, then opened her mouth again. “But——”

“Carina!” Cho and Angelina screeched in unison.

She let the matter go.

As they picked out their books, they discussed their respective summers. Cho’s was quiet and uneventful, while Angelina had gone swimming with her brother in the Maldives. Carina didn’t have anything to say, so she told them about Black’s letter, conveniently leaving out the part about his roundabout invitation to the gala.

“No way! He actually signed his letter Head Boy?! How stuck-up is that?” Angelina chortled, wiping a tear from her eye. 

“The ego has officially achieved a sentience,” agreed Carina dryly. She swiped a copy of Human Transfiguration: Theory, Practice, and Pitfalls from the shelf. “I’m just waiting for it to grow legs and demand its own office.”

“Can’t believe his family’s throwing an entire ball for him,” said Angelina with disgust. “How rich can they possibly get?” 

“If I had that much money, I’d get a better broomstick.” Cho pondered dreamily. “Harry has a Firebolt——I wonder how it feels to be the fastest player on the pitch.”

“Maybe if you ask nicely, he’ll let you ride it,” she quipped, scanning the bookshelf for her Arithmancy textbook. It came out snappier than she intended. Easy of them to covet Black’s money. They didn’t have to spend the rest of their year shackled to the source of it.

Oh, I don’t know,” Angelina said, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “I think I’d rather ask the Head Boy if I could ride his—”

“Finish that sentence, Johnson,” Carina cut her off, pointing a threatening finger, “and I’ll hex your mouth shut. For a week.”

“It’s not just me, you know.” Angelina snuck a look at Cho. Mortified by the earlier comment, the petite girl had opted to pretend they didn’t exist. “Loads of girls fancy him. Haven’t you ever noticed the way Heather Clayworth looks at him?”

“Well, I’ve lost count of how many times I had to intercept love potions from the fifth-years.” Carina, muttered, rubbing at her temple tiredly. “Why are girls attracted to that lump? And don’t just say his parents’ Gringotts Vault.”

“Let’s see,” Angelina started ticking off her fingers with an exaggerated seriousness. “He has top grades, he’s prefect—— Head Boy, now. And he’s on the Quidditch team.”

“So are you. So is everyone on a Quidditch team, by definition.”

“And he’s got the looks!” Angelina all but shouted over her. At Carina’s incredulous look, she raised her hands defensively. “What? You can’t deny that he’s hot.”

“Yeah, yeah. His parents were probably overcompensating for his terrible personality or something. Maybe if you spell-o-taped his mouth shut…” Her eyes fell upon something in the aquatic wildlife section.

Her joke died in her throat. She froze.

There, among the books about Grindylows, lay a copy of the Daily Prophet. The headlines, capitalized and in bold, screamed: STUDENT DEATH AT HOGWARTS! Under that, BOY WHO LIVED, LIAR?, in smaller script. 

The ground lurched under her feet.

“And what?” Cho remained thankfully oblivious, still immersed in a display of Quidditch through the Ages.

“Nothing,” she said slowly, maneuvering their positions so she could reach the paper. She locked eyes with Angelina. The message was clear. Cho cannot see this.

It wasn’t just the headlines Carina was worried about. The Ministry’s propaganda was nothing. But last semester’s events had hit them all hard, Cho in particular. And plastered widely in the center of the front page was a moving picture of someone Carina knew she had tried very, very hard to forget over the summer.

Cho, finally sensing the atmosphere wasn’t right, looked up. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” Angelina assured her with a forced laugh. “Just some clueless bugger who left their rubbish in a public bookstore. The manners of people these days, right?” She signaled Carina to hurry up. Carina dove for the shelf, blocking it from Cho’s view.

“Yep, just some trash.” She confirmed. 

Cho’s eyes narrowed. “You’re speaking American. That’s almost never a good sign.” Her gaze darted to the shelf Carina was guarding. “Is that…the Prophet?”

“It’s horribly outdated, you wouldn’t want to read it,” Angelina said with a false brightness, trying to steer her in the opposite direction. Cho wouldn’t budge.

“Carina. Let me see it.” 

“No!” Before either of them could react, Cho sidestepped them both and grabbed the copy. Carina lunged, snatching the paper out of Cho’s hands and ripping the accursed thing clean in two. “Don’t look at it!”

It was too late. Cho’s face drained of color. She had seen it. Like the dying breath fallen soldier, the halves of the paper fluttered to the ground. And with it, the black-and-white, grinning face of Cedric Diggory.

For a single, suspended second, everything was silent. The air stilled. The chatter of the other customers, the rustling of pages, the chime of the door——it all faded into the background. Carina could only hear the ragged catch in Cho’s breath.

Then, the spell broke.

“Cho!”

Their friend moved like a ghost. In a swift blur of limbs, she was out of the aisle and heading for the door before Carina’s brain could react. Angelina was already moving, a curse on her lips. Carina followed, her heart hammering a hectic beat against her ribcage.

They burst out into the sunlit streets of Diagon, the noise of the crowd crashing over them like a wave.  The air that had been comfortably warm a few minutes ago now felt like an oppressive blanket, smothering Carina in stifling humidity. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Carina muttered, the apologies spilling out of her as they pushed past the pedestrians in a hasty tangle of elbows and knees, leaving behind a trail of “Ouch!”s and “Watch where yer goin’!”s. Angelina was a lot more practical.

“Move it!” She yelled, her Captain’s voice cutting through the din. She shoved past a man who refused to get out her way. “Damnit, Vail, can you see where she is?!”

“I don’t know!” Carina scanned the crowd frantically for a sign of Cho—— a flash of familiar black hair, perhaps, or the blue jumper she had been wearing. The sea of witches and wizards shifted and flowed, a kaleidoscope of colorful robes and hats. Still no Cho.

Angelina stumbled to a halt beside her, chest heaving. “You lost her?” The words were more a growl of frustration than a question. 

They stood there for a moment——two anchors in a crashing wave of people. The weight of the situation settled heavily on Carina’s shoulders. She closed her eyes, the sounds of the alley——the chatter, the owls, the laughter——feeling like a personal affront.

Carina took a deep breath. Blaming the noise wasn’t going to help. 

“New plan. We split up. You go left, towards Gringotts, I’ll go right, to the Leaky Cauldron. Check the quieter shops and the alleyways. And the bathrooms. Especially the bathrooms.” Her voice——the one she used for prefect patrols when a student refused to cooperate——projected a calm she didn’t feel. Knowing Cho, she had probably snuck somewhere hushed to escape the memories.

Angelina nodded, her face a mask of grim determination.

“Are there any sweet shops in Diagon Alley?”

“I don’t know! Fortescue’s? Hang on——What do you need a sweet shop for?!”

“We’ll need something to cheer her up, don’t we?” It seemed obvious to her. Her mom had a saying: sugar fought heartbreak. And from the looks of it, Cho needed a lot of sugar. “If either of us find her, we send a Patronus to the other saying so. Got it?”

A sharp nod, and they split apart, swallowed by the crowd.

Carina moved with a new purpose, her strides eating up the pavement. She checked the cramped, single-toilet bathroom in the back of the Apothecary, the air thick with the smell of dried nettles and dragon dung. Empty. She peered into the dim, cluttered doorway of Gambol & Japes. Nothing.

Her worry began to curdle into a cold, hard knot in her stomach. Where could she have gone? She needed quiet. Seclusion. 

Only one bathroom left. 

She ducked inside and paused, listening, praying for a miracle. And… yep. There it was. A sound. A faint, hiccuping sob, echoing softly off the tiled walls. Her instinct, it turned out, had been spot-on.

Leaning against one of the sinks, she kept her tone deliberately light. “You know, there’s a bathroom just there in Flourish and Blotts. Could have saved us a cross-country sprint.” 

“Go away,” came Cho’s voice.

“You expect me to leave you here in this state?” Carina’s wand was already out. “Expecto Patronum!” 

Her ghostly leopard burst into existence, casting a soothing light over the tiles. “Tell Angelina I found Cho. Bathroom near Gringotts.” The Patronus gave a slow blink of understanding and bounded gracefully through the wall. Task complete, Carina turned her full attention to the stall.

“Angelina’s on her way with ice cream,” she told Cho. “Are you going to keep moping, or are you going to come out and eat with us?”

Silence. Carina wasn’t in a hurry. She would come out when she was ready. 

A long pause. Then a faint click. The door swung open. Cho emerged, face splotchy and tear-stained. 

“I just… couldn’t take it. Those looks. All that pity. I doing okay, I really was. But all those whispers, they just get under my nerves. The way everyone stops talking when I walk by. They act like his name is bloody taboo or something. I don’t think Ce——” Her voice fractured. She took a shuddering breath, wiping at her cheek with the back of her hand.

“I don’t think Cedric would’ve wanted that. I’m not… broken. Everyone’s just got to stop treating me like glass.”

“Oh, Cho.” Carina pushed off the sink, firmly gripping both of her friend’s shoulders. “常若秋。你听着我的话。You are not glass, okay?” (Chang Ruoqiu. Listen to my words.) She racked her brain for a metaphor. “You’re… porcelain. China! 那个玩意叫什么来着？哦对，青花瓷.” (What was that thing called again? Oh right, Qing Hua Ci.)

“What?” For a moment, there was nothing but pure confusion on Cho’s face. It was clear from Cho’s expression that she thought she was going bonkers. Carina didn’t blame her. Who on Earth consoled their upset friends with analogies of ceramics?

“Those really expensive pieces of blue and white pottery in museums,” she supplied hurriedly. “啊呀，就反正——” (Anyways——)

“It’s not that you’re fragile. It’s that you’re precious. And if something precious gets broken, it’s a bloody nightmare to put together, and it’s never quite the same again. That’s why we’re careful. Not because you’ll shatter into pieces if we look at you wrong. But because we care if you get hurt.” 

She closed the distance between them and pulled Cho into a solid, unwavering hug. “And for the record,” she murmured into her friend’s hair, “if anyone tries to patronize you, tell me. I’ll borrow one of Angelina’s Beaters bats. Fred and George wouldn’t mind if they went missing for an hour or two. I’ll personally make sure they never look at anyone like that again.”

A wet, hiccuping sound that was half-sob, half-laugh escaped Cho. She buried her face in Carina’s shoulder.“You’re utterly ridiculous.”

“I have my uses.”

“Where did you learn about all that pottery?”

“Oh, we had to do a research project in primary school about cultural symbols. May I interest you in Kintsugi, the Japanese art of repairing broken——”

“Okay, not that interested.” Cho clamped a hand over Carina’s mouth. She made affronted noises and attempted to bite her, but above Cho’s hand, her laughing eyes sparkled with mirth.

The door swung open then, and Angelina stumbled in, breathless, her face etched with worry that melted into relief. In her hands were three large, already-dripping cones of ice cream.

No words were needed. Angelina’s eyes met Carina’s, a silent message passing between them. She simply handed out the cones and slid down the wall to sit on the floor beside them. And if there were a few stray silver cat hairs in them——an indicator of her recent Patronus message——Cho, now nestled between her friends, politely chose not to comment.