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Second year seemed so far away! George span in his spot upon hearing another voice. He glanced over each of the faces behind them, flitting silent and unconscious judgment as anyone did.
"If it's been so long, why don't they let first years play?" George asked. It didn't seem fair but it probably made sense. He imagined briefly what it would be like to see Sadie trying to fly among so many others who'd had years of practice. It wasn't a pleasant sight.. He answered his own question during his moment of imagination and twisted back to the conversation at hand. George felt a twinge of misunderstanding during the mention of Harry's name. He'd been a curse word in his home- "Fucking-Potter", "Boy-Who-Lived-My-Arse", and his father's favorite "Fucking Potter." He had never really understood why and he still didn't. There were so many questions he still didn't have answers to, even after eleven years. He suspected Theo had already worked it out. He'd always been one step ahead.

George turned his attention off the exchange and looked about for his brother again. Theo had moved this time, standing nonchalantly against the backdrop of forest. He looked so cavalier standing tall in his uniform, George almost hated him and it made it him feel resentful. He had no reason to hate his brother other than for his own selfish jealously.

The crowd buzzed again when a girl stepped out and everyone's eyes shifted. No one seemed to be continuing their conversations now someone was racing. Everything seemed to be on her. All comments, cheers, hesitant and nervous breaths- no one's eyes were off the screen for more than a second. Pepper darted the course with a speed that seemed so unnatural. It wasn't enough though, her landing again and the echoing whines of the rest of Gryffindor seemed to prove that. The crowds quickly turned back to their conversations whilst the next student decided to have a go. George tugged from blades of grass from the floor, subconsciously ripping it into tiny pieces.

There was a cheer again from across the gathering, and everyone's attention snapped up. George flushed a vivid red that rivaled even the brightest of country beets. He watched his brother slide off his cloak and carry what looked like the broom their Uncle Chilton had bought him not days before they'd left for Hogwarts. It stood out that was for sure; silver wood and deep black bristles was totally common, right? George followed his brother's eye contact for the slightest second and stopped on Sadie's brother. It wasn't long until Theo had his two feet planted firmly on the ground, his chest low against his broom, waiting the whistle to blow.

"GO!" The announcer yelled followed by the eruption from the Ravenclaw gathering on the hill across. George watched with shallow breath and nerves as large as a house as his brother's journey was displayed so largely in front of everyone. What if he didn't beat the record? Or Sadie's brother beat him? He'd be embarrassed so much! There was no way Theo could solely rely on the newest model to keep Brennan out of the way.. This was all it was about, George was sure. That was unless Theo had someone he was impressing. The boy weaved between the towers, the wind rattling against his jumper and trousers, his thick brown hair blowing wildly. The Ravenclaw's had blown up into some kind of chant, guided by a skinny red head holding Theo's robes. Of course there was a girl- George turned his attention back to the screen as Theo came back into view, almost flat against his broom, heading straight for the finish, red faced and windswept.
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The Ravenclaws were cheering. Sadie blinked when she recognized the boy shrugging off dark robes. She glanced to George, who had turned the colour of a ripe tomato. Seine glanced over, looking puzzled.

“His broom’s different,” She blurted—it was the first observation Sadie could think to make that would distract Seine. It worked. Seine laughed brightly, teeth flashing in a wide grin.

“Yeah. Alright, so that’s the newest Kovalski broom—“

Sadie listened intently as Seine began to expound about differing broom companies, although it sounded mostly like waffle. Seine was interrupted by a shrill whistle, and the topic was dropped.

It was almost dizzying to watch. The magical cameras did not seem to operate by the normal laws of physics, spiraling and rushing to capture every angle of the race. The race itself was insane—they were flying between pillars and over and under bridges and whipping around towers, climbing and plummeting on a dime. How many G-forces were they subjecting themselves to? Had anyone ever managed to kill themselves flying like this?

The elder Nott was beyond fast. He was back in a flash, looking windswept but not winded. He seemed to be smirking at—oh. Brennan. Judging by the cheering, the Ravenclaw had done exceptionally well, and Sadie didn’t think she’d ever seen her brother look so determined. The blonde girl, Pepper, was clapping him on the shoulder, and several of their housemates were cheering.

”AND HE’S OFF!” The amplified voice shouted. Brennan shot forth like a cannon-ball—it was evident that where Theo had been graceful, the elder Ethans favored raw power. His turns weren’t quite so tight, and his broom wasn’t so exotic, but he seemed to explode through the straight aways. Sadie bit her nails, unsure if she was hoping for her brother to win or not, he was so close, he’d be insufferable either way—

”AND IT’S A TIE BETWEEN NOTT AND ETHANS!”

…and that was, somehow, the worst possible outcome.
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Barely heard anything either of his friends said until the announcer spoke again. He watched his brother float down to the grass and hop of his broom as if the whole world was his oyster; George had always envied him in that regard. As soon as his two feet touched the grass, the same skinny red head ran over, his robes folded neatly over her arm. Theo didn't have a girlfriend- He was sure of it. He hadn't written to anyone over the summer and there was no way it could have happened overnight. Watching his brother slide on his robes once again, a conceited and smug smile toying with the corners of his mouth, George couldn't help but feel embarrassment bubble and boil in his stomach. The younger Nott traced his brother's gaze directly to Brennan and instantly shrank into the grass. Theo had to win this...

The blonde contemplated hiding behind his hands, staring at the ground, even feigning illness and returning to his dormitory. If Brennan won this, Theo would be humiliated. Braving a glance towards his friends, George tried to judge their expressions. Sadie looked just as apprehensive as he did; Seine clearly electrified by the whole situation. All George could hear was the echoing boom of the Gryfindors behind them, rallying together to scream Brennan's name as he flew.

George's eyes were fixated on the screen, as was everyone elses'. No single pair seemed to have taken their attention from the footage for even a moment. From the corner of his eyes, George could see his own brother following the boy's race around the turrets and towers of Hogwarts, pushing his hardest around the track. Brennan could fly, there was no denying that. The closer he came to the finish line, the louder his friends began to screech. This was it...

Brennan thundered across the finish at a speed that didn't seem possible, straight into the whooping cries of those clad in red.

"It's a tie-"

George felt his stomach twist in on itself a thousand times over. All of his previous trepidation frothing over the edge and out of control. There couldn't have been a more unwelcome result..

"That's troll shit!" One boy yelled, thick and stocky. "Everyone knows Ethans can't fly for jack!" The silence that followed was painful. George gaze darted about for his sibling again, who stood with his back to Brennan, displaying nothing other than loathsome and obnoxious hate for the result. He said nothing- did nothing, despite the constant distress of the red head beside him. She rather looked like a chicken at this point, flapping her wings and throwing feathers about the place.

"We should go..." George muttered, slowly standing. His voice uncertain and shaky. "We have lessons soon." It was the only excuse he could think of and watching Theo seethe in his spot was an less welcome than a cockroach at a restaurant. Watching his brother smolder and simmer, boiling and brewing, fuming and foaming, George could feel his toes curl. He'd never seen his brother so irate.

Theo rolled his shoulders and turned to face Brennan, smirking again. He pushed off the red head, who'd clung to his arm by this point and stood firmly at the edge of his friends.
"Considering your broom is not top notch, I'd say you flew well. You still take corners terribly but there are first years who can fly better with their eyes closed."

"We need to go." George insisted by this point, all his alarms going off on full DEF-CON 1. He tugged on Seine's robes and passed him a pleading look. "We really need to go."

"Other than simply blood minority, it's hard to say exactly why you made the team, Ethans. After all, your arm isn't up to par. I'd blame parentage but after all these years, I think it must simply come down to the fact you're a runt." Another short shove towards the red head who'd returned to his side to pull him from the inevitable fight. George froze still on his spot, staring in horror as his brother just kept going. "You're a fuck up, Ethans. You've no skill, only luck. One day that luck will run out and everyone will realize exactly what you are. A half-pint moron with dirt for blood."

George felt the color drain from his face pretty quickly after that. He was thankful Sadie didn't understand, although he dared to guess what Seine must have been thinking. He felt his attention shift directly to Brennan, waiting for the moment he'd be expected to side with his brother. Their uncle had always said Theo was too proud and smug for his own good. He'd really out done himself this time.
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Sadie was blown away by the intensity of the cheers. Brennan looked both frustrated and pleased; bolstered by the joy of their housemates, but determined, as if he wanted another go around the castle. She knew that look—Brennan had always been hyper-competitive, and it had gotten him into trouble hundreds of times over the year. But the blonde had slung her arm around his shoulder and for a moment, Sadie thought everything might be okay.

The peace didn’t last but thirty seconds. A vulgar protest shot through the crowd, quieting the raucous laughter. Everyone knows Ethans can’t fly.

Sadie felt her stomach twist, one parts surprise to two parts indignation. What did that mean? He had just tied, hadn’t he? She looked between Seine and George, confusion written on her face. Seine shrugged, but George was urging them to go. Sadie rose to her feet, but couldn’t quite tear her eyes away from the spectacle.

She’d never seen Brennan look so hateful, not even when she’d accidentally set his jumper on fire last summer. He looked at Theo like he wanted to rip his throat out, fists clenched. Sadie realised suddenly that the blonde, Pepper, had a hand on his shoulder, holding him back.

“You know, for two thousand galleons, I would have thought your broom should do the flying for you, seeing as how you can barely put the bird through her paces,” Brennan’s voice was strangled by frustration, and Sadie couldn’t look away. It was a train wreck in slow motion, and everyone surrounding the two boys seemed to recognize it.

“Come on, Brennan, let’s just go,” One of the crimson clad boys muttered. Brennan seemed to try and compose himself, and Sadie though that he’d managed the impossible and controlled his temper.

A half-pint moron with dirt for blood cut through the air like a knife. A gasp and a chorus of outrage rippled through the crowd—and Brennan had launched himself at Theo. Sadie gaped as her brother grappled the taller boy, raining down blow after blow. People were shouting—several of the students in red were screaming for blood.

“ENOUGH,” boomed throughout the courtyard. Brennan and Theo were ripped apart, and Sadie could see her brother straining against the magic, knuckles bloody, as if all that mattered was the fight. The Headmistress was sweeping across the grounds in a rush of emerald tartan robes, wand aloft. Students cleared a path for her automatically, “Control yourselves, the both of you! Never, in all my years—“

“Professor,” Pepper interrupted. The sharp look Professor McGonagall gave terrified Sadie, and she wasn’t even the one receiving it. Pepper swallowed, but continued, fists clenched. “Brat deserved it, he called Ethans a mudblood—“

“That is enough, Miss Averys. I cannot believe a Head Girl would condone this response—the both of you,” Professor McGonagall directed her wand to the two boys, still suspended and held apart. They were placed on their feet, and Brennan looked as though he might launch himself at Theo once more. Sadie chewed her nails anxiously as Professor McGonagall marched the boys—and a few of the older students with little golden badges—away.

Dirt for blood, he’d said. Sadie watched Theo and Brennan’s backs. That was what Seine and George had meant.
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George stood stationary, on the edge of hyperventilating after his brother's outburst. If it was possible to turn back time... Theo was going to get himself killed for saying that. The blonde's eyes constantly flicked between the boys, waiting. The uproar of response was expected, after all, he'd said the worst thing. His brother was an idiot! He made one last attempt to pull his friends from their spots only to startle and jump as soon as a thud echoed the grounds.

Theo was on the ground, Brennan throwing punches faster than George thought possible. Watching was unbearable. His brother deserved the response, it what he'd sought after but George doubted it was this. He peered round at the students, Gryfindor backing Brennan, two Ravenclaws making a dash to pull Brennan from their friend, along with plenty of students disappearing back to the castle as if they sensed the trouble that seemed so close at hand.

"Enough!" A voice rang out like a bell, standing each student still, with magic and without. Seeing his brother stood upright was a sorry sight. His nose looked displaced and his shirt- Oh Theo. George felt himself feel sorry for his brother. No one dared to speak aside from the blonde girl Brennan had been attached to. No one was denying Theo didn't deserve it but Brennan had broken his nose; it was uncalled for.

The skinny red head looked more distressed than before. George couldn't tell if that was a joint effort or whether the final shove had been the cause. It didn't stop her looking like a hen, clucking and flapping wings, red feathers all over.

All anyone could do was watch their Headmistress and silently argue, she was terrifying. Watching the two boys stand alone again was worse than tortue. Theo lifted a hand up to pinch his nose, stopping the bleeding Brennan had caused, and Brennan looked for than ready for round two. George couldn't look yet he still did. He needed to be there for his brother, it was the reason they were so close. The sight of watching him walk away, head tipped back, was painful. His face no longer held the twisted smirk that it had done when dealing with Brennan, now Theo just looked tired.

As soon as the two figures were out of sight, George let out a sigh, a breath of nervous and anxious air. He glanced between his two friends and then at the ground.
"I'm sorry my brother said that." George muttered quietly, as if speaking too loudly would turn the mob on him. "He can be a bit thoughtless sometimes." George felt the undying need to protect him rumble and stir despite how little he could do.

The students began to shuffle back towards the castle, speaking amoungst themselves, murmurs and mutters everywhere. George had suspected Theo hadn't been best impressed when Sadie's brother bumped into him yesterday but he didn't expect the hate to run so deep. It seemed unnatural for him, starting fights on purpose. He watched those whose George suspected to be friends of Theo's leave his broom with the red head as they stalked back to the castle embarrassed.

George waited until most of the students were gone before heading back to the castle, his lunch no longer appitising. His stomach still flipped like a robotic muggle dog, faster than Brennan punched his brother. This wasn't going to plan at all- he was hating school because of this. He paused whilst Seine caught up and again whilst they waited for Sadie. Both of them knew they'd have to explain what Theo had said to her, neither of them wanted to. There wasn't anything worse Theo could have uttered. No doubt they'd be hearing about it all day though.
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Be careful. He’s a Nott, Maryam had said. Sadie hadn’t really understood—she’d thought maybe it was something personal. But things began to click as George apologized, and a thousand questions raced through her head. What exactly did the Nott name mean? Did she even want to know? Her stomach churned.

“Thoughtless is an understatement,” Seine said with a shake of his head. Sadie chewed thoughtfully on her lip, watching the crowd cautiously. Most of the students had reacted as though disgusted, but had everyone? How many people thought her brother—and her, she realised suddenly—had dirt in their veins?

“It’s okay. We should get to the common room,” Sadie said with a strained smile. They had nearly half an hour, but she found herself wanting to get out of the crowd. Mercifully, Seine nodded, and they rushed to catch up with George. Sadie smiled weakly, hooking loose red hair behind her ear. “We’ve got six inches to write on Gamp’s laws before Wednesday. We should get it done now—it looks like tomorrow’s going to be hectic.”

Seine groaned, jamming hi hands in his pockets, looking entirely too displeased by the notion.

“Ughhh, seriously?”

“We’re literally learning magic, how is that not the most exciting thing ever?” Sadie boggled at Seine, who simply grumbled in return. Looking to George, she cocked a brow. “Don’t tell me you find bending the laws of physics boring too.”
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Halloween arrived faster than anyone had expected. The incident on the grounds was pretty much forgotten, even with Theo sporting a dark purple eye for over a week after. By the time the middle of October emerged the entire school was ready for the first Quidditch game of the year. Thankfully the tension between Theo and Brennan wouldn't be pushed any further beyond its limits: Hufflepuff against Ravenclaw was a thankful event. Of course the entire team was insistent on crowning themselves Champions, pushed even further ahead with one chaser's violent and grim determination to beat one Gryfindor beater if it killed him.

The match itself started particularly well; clear skies and only hateful glares. The game continued slowly to begin with. One goal to Ravenclaw; two to Hufflepuff; another one to Ravenclaw. A scuffle broke out shortly after the wind picked up, chilled Autumn air speeding across the highlands bringing the hideous and unwelcome promise of rain. A small Hufflepuff clutched the Quaffle close to her chest, mouse brown hair flowing behind obviously troubled by the wind, glancing backwards as Ravenclaw closed it. It happened to quick to say exactly who caused the girl to fall fifty feet to the ground, unconscious and limp. George felt inclined not to blame his brother, but instead the buck tooth chaser beside him. One, two, three... Ravenclaw pulled themselves into a 40 point lead before either of the two seekers caught into the Snitch. The crowd cheered along, pulling up hoods as the rain closed in, darkening the sky within minutes.

The prospect of a "nice, clean game" was all but memory now. Theo pushed forwards, eyes fixed on the two Hufflepuff chasers, juggling the ball between them. The two others joined him, speeding along behind preparing for impact. Theo dropped down, disappearing from their sight whilst the two other chasers closed in on either side, pushing them together, cornering them. Theo pushed upwards, almost knocking one off their broom. Rhonda, a tall and gangly Hufflepuff pulled the Quaffle close to his chest and pulled round, making a break for the goal posts. At least until he took a bludger to the chest, winding him enough to drop the ball. A short mad dash for the Quaffle and Ravenclaw had the lead again. Another two goals passed by, with borderline foul play occurring almost every time Hufflepuff had possession. Ten further points to Hufflepuff and the snitch was caught. Whistling and cheering erupted from stands covered in Blue and Silver, not a single member caring about the growing downpour. Ravenclaw house seemed to be on high for the rest of the month after that, every ego inflated beyond repair, despite the fact one Hufflepuff had two broken ribs and the mousy-chaser was still unconscious; Quidditch wasn't a soft sport.

School passed less quickly even though they were finally learning magic! It may have only been beginner's spells but a spell was a spell and that's what mattered. The homework made things worse, essays for this and reading for that. Thankfully the excitement still hadn't truly worn off. Outside, the weather had dropped considerably. Blustering winds and crunching leaves under every foot really set the scene for their first Halloween. George joined his friends in the Common Room before heading back down to dinner, robes abandoned and comfier casual clothes ready for the a Friday night feast. They spoke about lessons and other students, teachers and ghosts, spells and mischief. The sight of the Great Hall covered in floating pumpkins and full with every child's Halloween dream. Candy apples, cakes, sweets galore! Stuffed food in the shapes of monsters. Skulls filled with soup and towering stacks of assorted meals, all balanced with talent.

George made headway for a space towards the top of the table, helping himself to a bowl of soup and a crusty roll. He stayed silent for the most part, listening to Seine retell the events of a Quidditch match his old man had previously explained in a letter. Deep down, he was jealous. There was no denying it. Having a functional family must be something amazing. Sure, there were student's whose parents were no longer together, but having a parent in prison was a step beyond that. He poured the three of them a glass of pumpkin juice and settled down into his seat, enjoying the sights that Halloween brought.
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After the first week, Sadie finally found the rhythm of her schoolwork. It was tricky work—she frequently had to ask her classmates what certain magical terms meant—but that was good. Sadie had always liked cutting her teeth on difficult concepts. There was nothing like the joy of finding the answer, especially when she found it herself. She’d apparently become the class nerd, but Sadie found the near apathy of some of her classmates staggering. She knew in the way that she knew that she must breathe that she would never tire of the magic of spells and potions and earth beneath her fingernails.

The first Quidditch game was terrifying and exhilarating in equal parts. She couldn’t forget the sight of that little Hufflepuff girl hurtling towards the ground. She’d woken up in a cold sweat half a dozen times, heart slamming into her ribs until she feared they might break. No one else seemed particularly bothered, and Sadie kept those nightmares quiet.

It had been two months, and Brennan had barely spoken more than a dozen words to her. She’d seen how he darkened when she came around with George, his lips pressing into a thin line. But it hadn’t been George who’d said those awful things, she wanted to scream at her brother. Somehow, Sadie didn’t think Brennan much cared. It was, truthfully, rather lonely. At least her mum wrote frequently, sending sweets and trinkets from back home. Her dormmates had been fascinated by the still photographs Sadie’s muggle friends had sent, their fashion and technology so alien to them.

She was surprised to find herself missing home. Magic was wonderful and great, and she adored it, but she yearned for her phone, for streaming music and television. She missed knowing slang and context and staircases that didn’t change on her. Sadie had a sharp sense of direction, but Hogwarts seemed to be purposefully trying to make her late for classes by completely altering its layout halfway through her walks.

Halloween was as lavish as Christmas, she’d realised with a gasp as she and her friends entered the Great Hall. It was spectacular, flickering candles and spiders crafted of wisps of smoke dancing up and down webs of gossamer magic. Sadie spent the first five minutes of the meal whipping her head back and forth to catch sight of something new and wondrous. One of the older students chuckled as she gasped in delight at little cauldron cakes with ladles stirring around in their chocolate.

Seine was regaling them with a particularly thrilling (and brutal) Quidditch recounting, Estonia vs. Laos, but she was only half listening. Seine was an amazing story teller, but she’d already heard the match--yellow and black robes whipping in wind, body tumbling like a rag doll toflat, flat earth—and she instead focused on the food.

She was halfway through a bowl of pumpkin soup when she noticed that a tall, thin Professor was whispering into the Headmistress’ ear. Sadie watched at the elderly witch’s face blanked, her lips pursing into a thin line. Little whispers seemed to break out along the Head Table—and then they were hushed, smiles placed back on their faces. She almost thought she had imagined it, but…

“Did you see that?” Niall muttered from across the table. Sadie met the his curious gaze, flicking her eyes back to the Head Table. Everything seemed normal, but…

“That didn’t look like good news,” Sadie murmured, knitting her brows together. “Wonder what they’re hiding.”
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George found himself chatting along with Seine, regaling the events the match he'd read about.

"Wasn't that the game where Keola was banned for life?" He asked, wiping pastry crust from the corners of mouth. "Didn't he almost murder Estonia's keeper?" He was barely aware of Sadie's attention existing elsewhere, instead solely focused on the conversation at hand. Seine's eyes animated and his hands waved with enthusiasm.

"Yes! He nearly get the woman on fire. Oh what was her name- Ti-, no... To, er-" He paused for a moment, as if trying to pull the name from the very back of his mind. His hands danced in a circle like a fisherman recoiling a rod. "Tulli!" Seine yelled suddenly. "My dad said that the whole crowd just freaked out! He plays for some Chinese team now though, so his ban must have been lifted... I don't know why." Seine continued, trailing off to stuff more food into his mouth.

The Great Hall echoed with the chorus of the ghosts and the echo of students laughing and babbling about anything that sprang to mind. The faces of each first year still seemed to irradiate with excitement and elation. Pumpkins floated about the room, each one carved to display a different face. From cackling smiles to slanted and devilish eyes. Each one was unique. George had spent the first part of the evening wondering exactly how had spent all afternoon craving each face with such creativity until it occurred to him that a simple charm would have easily done the job. The ghosts seemed to glade through the room, going from table to table, each joining in a small chorus of a song that seemed far older than anyone else in the castle.

"What do muggles do for Halloween?" George asked after the conversation of Quidditch had died down. He'd never truly realized how different their worlds were. Muggles had such strange things, items he didn't understand. Their paintings and photographs didn't move yet large screens played sound and moving images, changing at the push of a button. There was music coming from tiny devices in pockets and huge metal birds that flew in the sky. How could they stand not being able to get somewhere instantly? What if something was broken? Did they just throw it out? There were far too many questions to make any real sense of and two months of Muggle Studies had done little to ease the burden he had in his head. He wondered what muggle kids did for fun? What sports did they play? What did they learn at school? How did they speak to people in other countries? How many of them knew his own world existed? What was it like to be told you were a wizard!?

George pulled another lump of his pastry and ate eagerly awaiting Sadie's response to his question. Did they eat big meals? Did they have parties? Did they do nothing? He could remember seeing shop windows decorated with masks and spiders webs. The image of a green faced women, her nose huge and long, with a single boil on the end was firmly placed in his mind yet he didn't really understand why. Was that what muggles thought his kind looked like? Sure, goblins weren't great looking but wizards and witches looked like anyone else. There were some perculier types but everyone looked normal.

George looked across to Sadie, waiting for her reply only for his eyes to follow her gaze across the table. He frowned a little and pulled his forehead tense. He watched the exchange for a moment before voicing the same opinion they all had.

"What was that about?" He muttered, looking between his two closest friends and Niall.

"Do you think it's something serious?" Seine asked, leaning in close to his friends. "Maybe something has happened in the castle. They wouldn't just start panicking if it did." He offered, putting down his food to glance at the others. George followed suit, looking between the trio in the hope that someone would provide answers.

"It's probably nothing." He suggested, trying to, for once, play devils advocate. It wasn't a role he usually played, but one he felt he would need to learn in time. "Its not like their going to tell us, is it? Regardless of what it is. If it's serious, it'll be in the Daily Prophet tomorrow. It's probably nothing." He repeated, desperate fantasy despite the fact he was riddled with anxiety, his thoughts lousy with the one hundred worst case scenarios he'd suddenly come up with.

"George has a point. If it is anything serious, it'll be in the Daily Prophet. It's not like their going to hide it really. Even if they did try, someone's parents would know and send a letter." Seine blurted, his eyes bright. "Do you think the centaurs are angry? Maybe thats what it is. I heard they start stampedes a lot in the forest. What if it's a werewolf? Then again, they'd have to tell us about that one.." He added.
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George offered reassurance—they were probably just being suspicious, right? Sadie chewed her lip, glancing back up at the Head Table. The Headmistress seemed impassive, tucking into a roasted pumpkin. Professor Sprout looked cheery as ever, regaling Madame Hooch was a tale, hands dancing as she spoke.

Niall didn’t look convinced. His brows had furrowed, blue eyes still watching their professors, like he didn’t trust them. She couldn’t imagine why not. Her professors seemed lovely—although Professor Binns’ voice was very difficult to listen to without feeling drowsy—why should she distrust their judgment? It wasn’t like she knew enough about this world yet, anyways.

“I guess,” he said finally, shifting his gaze over to the Slytherin table, as if he were trying to make eye contact with someone. He nodded his head towards the table and shrugged. Sadie resisted the urge to twist around in her seat and see who he was looking at.

“Are werewolves common, then?” Sadie asked Seine. God, would she ever feel like she knew this world? Every day seemed to be a constant reminder that the rules of reality she’d known her whole life meant nothing.

Seine shifted uncomfortably for a moment, studying his mashed potatoes as if they might answer her question. She was nearly ready to brush it off when he spoke up.

“Yeah—during the war there were a lot of attacks. A lot of people were turned.”

“Jesus,” Sadie didn’t mean to blasphemy, but it was just… she didn’t know the context, but even she could tell that that was awful. She frowned, pushing her roast beef about her plate with a fork. She forced her thoughts to better places and turned to George. “Right! So, muggle Halloween…”
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There was no denying something had set the professors on edge. For the rest of the holiday, the lines of age seemed deeper, eyes carrying a wave of exhaustion they hadn't known for some time. It was as if the whole castle seemed covered in a blanket of dulled anxiety but none of the students knew why. George joined his friends in the chatter of Halloween, oblivious to the chaos that lingered in the ocean 200 miles away from the castle they all called home.

Seine and George spent the remainder of the evening engaged in a round of Exploding Snap with Sadie, hoping one day she'd be used to the wonder of it all. George set out a box of chocolate snap dragons his Aunt had sent on the floor beside them all, the contents emptying as the common room followed. Outside the wind was beginning to howl, screaming the news in a language no human would understand. The Gryfindor Tower slowly dispersed into silence as the student body finally drifted off to sleep.

As the night passed, echoing through without a dream to comfort, the stirring of the world outside began to creep into the world. The stirring of one student after another was enough to wake each dormitory. George twisted himself out of his bed, eyes shifting to observe the grounds outside. The sky was bleak, dark and menacing, a threatening storm of the horizon. The boys dressed themselves in weary silence and began to descend into the halls for breakfast. Seine encouraged his friend to wait for Sadie by the fire and the trio reunited once again.

The conversation was light but cheerful, blissfully ignorant of the previous night's events. They spoke of dreams, of the day ahead and of questions unanswered. They walked into the Great Hall, the familiar soundtrack of yawning following them as they walked. George turned his attention behind him as the uncomfortable sense of eyes stopped on his back. A frown crossed his face as the ever-concerning face of his brother appeared from the sea of students. There was barely a foot between them when Theodore snatched his brother's jumper and pulled him from the Great Hall with an expression he'd never seen before. His eyes seemed contorted with unease, warped with trepidation. Soon however, he stopped, waiting in a small silent spot beside the doors.

"Have you seen the news?" He barely gave George time to answer when he spoke again. "The Daily Prophet-"

"It's not here yet." George spat back. "Theo what's going on?" He asked, his voice squeaking with confusion. His brother merely took a deep breath and checked their privacy.

"There was a break out-" His voice dropped low, whispering the words that followed. "Azkaban; they got out. Dad got out. They don't know who. Mum doesn't know anything more. She didn't want to worry you, but you need to know. It'll be all over the papers." Returning to his full height, Theo rubbed his face and stepped back. "Just try not to think about it. Chances are, it'll just mean moving again, which isn't an issue. Just don't think about it." The boy turned on his heels and headed back into the Great Hall with the remaining stragglers, leaving George on the edge of a panic attack.

He crept back into the hall and sat himself down next to Sadie. His hands felt clammy, his chest tight, his whole body felt like it was going to explode. The student body existed in cheery spirits as the morning post arrived. George merely shrunk further into his robes, toying with the one slice of toast he'd chosen to eat.
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November came with a sudden plummetting of temperature. Sadie hadn't wanted to leave her warm bed, still recovering from the late night of Halloween and the poor choice to eat sweets until she hated herself. It had taken both Tasia and Maryam badgering her to roll out of her crimson blankets and stumble to the loo. The dormitory was chilly. Someone had left a window open and frost glittered on the glass.

She felt considerably better after she got ready, bounding down the steps after the other girls. Asenath had woven twin braids into Sadie's red hair and they bounced cheerily as she caught up with Seine and George. In later years, undoubtedly the three of them would be teased for spending so much time together, and rumors would fly. But the innocence of youth made their friendship easy, free of complication.

"Hiiiiii!" Sadie greeted with exaggerated vocal fry. Seine chuckled, clearly chalking it up to a weird muggle thing.

They'd nearly made it to the great hall when George's brother snatched the back of his jumper. Sadie frowned deeply, looking between the pair as the elder Nott dragged the younger off. It was hard to like Theo after The Race. She did her best not to voice her displeasure or make George uncomfortable, but she couldn't help but scowl after the Ravenclaw.

"C'mon Sades," Seine gently tugged her arm. Sadie unclenched her fists--she hadn't even realised she was so tense--and took a deep breath. She beamed at Seine, flouncing along with the taller boy.

They found their usual spot near the Head Table, chattering brightly. Sadie didn't notice the smattering of upset faces, too happy to have breakfast and the post coming in. The owls were still one of her favorite parts of the morning, swooping and dropping parcels and papers.

George dropped down next to her, looking paler than usual. Sadie frowned, cocking her head at him. She shared a worried look with Seine.

"George?" Sadie ventured, but her voice was drowned out in the beatings of wings and the cries of hundreds of owls.

A parcel was dropped next to her plate, adorned with her mum's neat handwriting. Seine accepted a copy of the Prophet from his handsome tawny owl, thanking the bird. As he unfolded the paper, his face dropped. With dread pooling in her stomach, Sadie looked over to read massive letters above a photo of a terribly familiar building.

MASS BREAK OUT AT AZKABAN
DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL LAW ENFORCEMENT REFUSES TO COMMENT ON THIS "ACTIVE INVESTIGATION"


"No," Seine muttered, looking grim. Sadie looked over to George, concern painted on her features. His expression connected the dots on all the hints. Oh. Oh. Was one of those escapees related to him?

Sadie touched his elbow instinctively, uncertain what to say but plainly worried.

"Look," Seine whispered. Tension was rippling throughout the Great Hall as silence gave way to a buzz of activity. There were students all over the Great Hall shrinking, looking sick, angry, stone faced...

"V," Niall muttered from across the table. Sadie followed his gaze to the dark haired Slytherin girl they'd crossed the lake with. She was staring resolutely at her plate, spine ramrod straight. Someone passed and hissed something at her--the girl flinched, and then pursed her lips into a scowl. Niall sprang to his feet, looking furious, but the girl (Verdana, she remembered suddenly) pushed away from the table and began to walk briskly out the hall. Sadie turned to look at Niall as he followed.

Several students were leaving suddenly, whereas others had been cornered, either shouted at or arguing with other students. Suddenly, Sadie found herself scared. Her grip tightened on George's arm. Seine took her other hand, lacing his dark fingers with her.

"Don't run," he spoke to George, "It's not your fault--"

There was a shout as a fight broke out, hexes and sparks filling the air. Sadie flinched, suddenly terrified.

Professor McGonagall entered the Great Hall at precisely that moment, her eyes sharp.

"Enough," her voice was magically enchanted to echo throughout the castle. "All students will report to the Great Hall immediately."
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Had the dreary news not set over the wizarding world, many could have argued that pleasantness of the day. Despite the growing November chills, the strong gale winds, and the frigid rain, the blue sky ahead seemed amiable. Students bustled across the Great Hall, gorging on their breakfasts and rushing through parchments of late homework. Moral appeared high, yet the encroaching fog appeared in the weary eyes of staff sat solemnly at the top table. The professors muttered among themselves, voices out of hearing. The occasional student would send a smile, a wave or a greeting and the noted teacher would return with a trained faultless expression. It appeared very few were expecting the disaster plastered on the cover of The Daily Prophet.

George had begun ripping his toast into small bite size pieces, his mind reeling with possibilities. What would happen if they caught him again? They'd lose him. Anyone who escaped ended up with the Kiss without trial. The blonde eleven year old pulled at his jumper sleeves, and rested his hands on his lap. Theo had more than one exclaimed the boy's tendency to worry too much; if it weren't for the thundering sound of his pulse within his ears and his throat closing within his neck, George might have disagreed.

The echo of beating wings flurried in from the roof of The Great Hall. Students excitedly searched for their own owls, smiling gleefully as they caught their parcels as they dropped from the air. The young Nott turned his head, his eyes trailing across the table for the boy he called brother. Theo sat upright, chatting happily to the friends he had, as if oblivious to the news the morning paper would bring them. George often wondered how his brother managed it, covering himself and his feelings; ones that weren't anger. It took a moment of staring before the bushing haired brunette spotted his younger sibling's gaze, panicked and unsure. He shook his head firmly and twisted his gaze towards the Ravenclaws beside him. George turned back towards his own friends as a result with his stomach twisting.

In the pause that lingered- the short moment before each student clambered for their friend's copy, ripping and snatching the paper from one to another- George felt the dread set in. Blue eyes stared directly at Seine only to flick to Sadie as she took her own turn to read. One by one, hysteria began to set in. Students began to panic, shouting and confused. Seine drew their attention to a small student with thick dark hair. Her familiarity now struck him- Verdana Dolohov, a cousin. Her own father had been trialed shortly after his own. Antonin Dolohov had been present more than once in their family home during both his and Theodore's childhood. The latter of the brother's had once claimed the man to be "one of the worst" and professed his own fear of the man. George felt the pang of empathetic trepidation as the students around her turned into snakes, hissing her way.

The Great Hall suddenly sprang to life with the shrill panic of several hundred students, each fearing for their safety. Theodore Nott was gone when George turned again for support. The tall Ravenclaw had already begun his beeline for the tall doors as the fights began. His feet carried him along the thick oak table, between his own and the yellow house. His face displayed little emotion aside from a faint sense of concern and dread. A spell shout from one 6th year student as he passed, its intended already screeching in return. Theo's feet picked up their pace and quickly he slipped from the hall.

"Don't run." George couldn't see why not. Sadie's grip grew tighter around his forearm, scrunching his sleeve and creasing his shirt.
"What do we do?" The boy stammered in return as his attention turned to Seine. The yell that erupted from further down the Slytherin table and the spells that followed seemed only to make things worse. A huge boy, matted mouse brown hair and a thick set jaw roared a hex in response and the first fight broke out. "What do we do?" George squeaked again as the frenzy grew worse. He pulled Sadie's hand down from his arm and twisted his fingers into her palm, holding tightly. The situation grew worse, escalated to a state almost out of control.

The sudden booming voice of a wiry woman shook the castle still. Students froze, wands raised and friends in tow. A painful second passed before slowly each student complied, taking a seat at the nearest table, fear on every face. An icy silence followed as Professor McGonagall made her way towards the plinth ahead of all four tables. Her expressed seemed stoic, although by force. Several hundred faces stared her way for guidance, desperate, scared. The few students who'd rushed from the room slowly began to enter the hall and many of the ghosts had taken to join them. They floated quietly against the back wall, whispering among themselves.

"I understand you're all scared, perturbed and many of you are angry. This wasn't something any of us expected to find out, especially in such a fashion." Her voice strained as she spoke, kind old eyes hiding a fear of something they'd never expected to see again. "Many of you know Hogwarts was subject to its own battle many years ago, and the scars of this have not all healed. Students, professors, witches and wizards alike lost their lives to keep this place standing; but I can assure each and every one of you that this school is as safe as it always has been. These walls will keep you safe. The Minister of Magic is more than prepared to ensure the protection of each student within these walls, regardless of who they are." She paused in her speech and her gaze circled the room ahead.
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Sadie had never seen anything like this in the flesh, but she was struck suddenly by how familiar it looked. It was like one of a dozen scenes she'd seen on the news, despite her parents best efforts to hide it from her. It was yet another vision of panic rolling through a crowd after an act of violence. It was different, in person. She could taste something acrid in the air, a whipcrack whisper of terror and rage.

Clutching George and Seine's hands, Sadie was struck with the cold realisation that maybe magic was dangerous.

Headmistress McGonagall spoke with a gravity that captured the attention of the Great Hall, gazes turning forwards to lock on her, trapped in her orbit. She spoke of a battle that Sadie only knew two paragraphs about, a footnote in the latest edition of Hogwarts, A History. He Who Must Not Be Named had launched an assault on the Ministry of Magic, on Hogwarts, and reparations were slowly being made to those impacted. It had all been very rushed, saying barely anything of use. But McGonagall? There was something in her tired eyes that made Sadie realise the Headmistress had lived every moment of those scraps of sentences.

"Years ago, our sorting hat warned us that we must unite within these walls, or we will crumble from within," The wiry woman remarked, and the lines around her eyes seemed to deepen as she gazed upon the sea of students. "Those words remain as relevant as ever."

She looked to the staff table, to the row of professors. She seemed to think on something for a long moment, before turning back to the crowd.

"Classes will proceed as scheduled," She instructed. "That is all."

Sadie boggled. How could they just go to lecture, like everything was fine and normal? There were a few murmurs, but under the Headmistress' gaze, no one spoke up in opposition. She frowned, turning to look at her friends, but finding her brother's gaze along the table. He looked scared.

Sadie hadn't seen Brennan truly scared in five years. They'd been climbing trees, laughing and half-wild, climbing ever higher. She'd lost her footing, reaching for a higher branch, and she remembered the terror of plummeting to the ground. Brennan had screamed; she had bounced harmessly into the grass, but she'd never forget how quickly he clambered down to the ground, panicked.

Sadie gnawed on her lip as his expression steeled. The Great Hall was beginning to rouse, facing rapidly approaching lessons. Brennan rose, strode towards her, and Sadie had barely started to stand before he caught her arm and tugged her along after him.

"C'mon," he muttered, his voice thick. Something about his manner made Sadie stumble and fall into step with him. She looked over her shoulder at George and Seine, confused, before he lengthened his stride and she had to turn away.
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George could feel his stomach roll, processing each and every possible scenario. As hideous as his own Dad's crimes were, he was still a father; yet all of this had to mean something. He Who Must Not Be Named was dead, long dead, still, however, their most secure location was lacking a number of residents. George turned his attention to the chaos surrounding and his two closest friends with a face almost as pale as his hair, all colour had vanished as quickly as aspirating criminals. The more he thought about the possibilities, the colder his sweat become.

With a face displaying nothing brighter than sheer panic, George remained on frozen on the spot. The passage for air within his neck felt uncomfortably tight, closing slowly. A clammy hand wrapped around Sadie's as the tension grew. The school's headmistress continued to speak but with increasing tunnel vision, George remained oblivious. A vacant expression met Seine for a moment despite his stare passing beyond his friend.

Slowly, however, the trained voice of their ageing Headmistress registered within the swirling pandemonium. Classes were proceeding? They couldn't, he had to speak to Theo, his mum and find out where his own father had headed. How was he expected to pretend everything was entirely normal when his own family had murdered the parents and grandparents of his fellow classmates? George was grateful he called so few of them friends. He felt a tug on his hand as Sadie began to stumble away behind her brother. How long would it be until his own flesh and blood found Sadie and Brennan? After all, Muggleborns were part of the problem, he'd said.

As the communion around them began to evaporate out the main doors, the gravity of the news laiden on their minds, the blonde let out an unsteady sigh.

"I don't think anything good is going to come from this." He stammered in an uneasy and feverish tone. George pulled his bag from the floor and followed the river of students.

"It's gonna be okay-" Seine started as the duo began to move. "I think it's going to be okay. We would be going home if it wasn't." Neither of them knew exactly how true the latter statement was yet they both had to believe it.

George's eyes scanned the halls as they walked, searching for Sadie and his brother. He needed reassurance, anything. His gaze, perturbed by worry, hunted between the crowd before eventually spotting a bush of familiar brown hair crossing into the grounds to their right.

"Theo!" He yelled among the flock of students. Instead of a response, however, the older sibling returned only a glare and a shake of his head that heavily suggested their current location and the present time wasn't entirely ideal for a conversation on a convict family member having gone AWOL.
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"Brennan, slow down," Sadie whined as she struggled to keep pace with her brother. He'd dragged her off from the Great Hall and hadn't bothered to tell her where they were going. He didn't respond, and Sadie huffed and yanked her hand back. "Brennan, stop!"

They drew to a halt on the stairs, and he turned to look down at her. He was angry--which wasn't unusual--but there was concern painted across his face.

"I told you that Nott kid was trouble. Do you get it now, Sades?" Brennan's voice cracked as he shouted, grabbing her shoulders as if he meant to shake her. Sadie flinched, frightened of the intensity of his temper. He squeezed for a moment before pulling her into a hug. "I don't want you getting hurt because of them."

"Bren, you didn't say anything," Sadie pushed him back, puffing her cheeks in temper. "You just said that he's a Nott but you didn't explain what that meant. No one has explained anything! Everyone just talks about it like I should already get it, but they won't out and say it!"

"Fine! They're blood maniacs, alright? Their old man murdered dozens muggleborns and supporters in the war, and you need to be careful so you don't get offed too! They hunted people like us for sport and there's plenty of records of muggleborn kids getting tortured in Azkaban for 'stealing' magic, and that's only scratching the surface." Brennan exploded at her, face flushed red.

Sadie was a clever girl, and she had already put together plenty of the pieces based on her talks with Seine and George and what she found in the library, but that had been so...clinical. Brennan spoke plainly and for the first time it all felt real.

"George has been nice though," She tried, and Brennan shot her a look as though he couldn't believe her.

"You don't know the kid, Sades. Look, he could be the nicest person in this damn castle, but it doesn't mean you're safe with him. You need to stay away from him."

Sadie searched her brother's face, uncertain what to make of everything. As angry and infuriating as he was, Brennan looked so scared. He was insufferable, but she knew he cared, and he knew so much more about this world, but...

"Look, I...I get it, Brennan, but I'm not going to blame him for what he didn't do," Sadie chewed on her lip. Her brother's face fell and she cut him off. "No, look, that's not fair and you know it."

"Sades," Brennan tried to reach for her, but she turned sharply on heel in a flutter of red hair and began to descend the steps.

"I'll see you later," she called over her shoulder before focusing on making the trek back towards class, gears spinning violently in her head. It was a lot to take onboard, and, truthfully, Sadie wasn't sure what to make of it all. She frowned, before looking up to see Seine and George a ways down the hall at the base of the stair case. She quickened her pace and jogged towards them, flashing a tight smile. "Sorry! My brother's an arse. Lets get going!"
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As the term had continued, George had grown ever more comfortable, even though such had only been that way within their tiny triangle of friends. Now, with the news the morning had brought, he felt small, out of place and afraid. The Wizarding World was going to change before their eyes and the dense pit in the young boy's stomach only suggested exactly how much worse this was becoming.

"Do you think it's going to happen again?" The scrawny blonde asked through a mouth that barely opened. His words were almost inaudible, sapped away by the dread and fear hanging over the school; pungent. Whilst he greatly feared the loss of his friends, the lingering apprehension within twisted around a fear of his own. Before, it had always been a family affair, two or three generations at a time. Once their world shifted back toward the chaos, exactly how long would it have been before Theo and himself were presented as willing volunteers?

Sadie's arrival frightened the remaining colour from George's face, leaving the ghostly complexion to outwardly compete with the unpigmented and chalky shade of his hair.

"You can't blame him really. We've all had a shocking morning." Seine added with a smile. "They would have sent us home if it were anything serious. I'm sure they'll catch them soon." He paused before apologising to the impish kid to his left.

"Hopefully, they do," George added in a defeated murmured. He loved his parents, although he wasn't going to outwardly admit that he missed having his own father at home. George Snr was a murderer, but he was still a parent; someone George longed to return home. They all knew capture meant the end of the line: a duel to the death or the Kiss. His Dad hadn't been able to avoid them forever before, it was unlikely he'd be able to do so again.

He trudged alongside his two friends in silence, occasionally adding a note or comment to Seine's attempt at altering the mood. As they climbed the staircases towards the Third Floor, the milling crowds had begun to disperse. Transfiguration stood as their first lesson of the day and George was entirely grateful for the possibility of quietly taking notes instead of being forced to communicate.

Seine, however, had spent their entire walk trying to engage Sadie in conversation entirely separate to the news they'd received that morning; for all their sakes.

"Did you manage to finish the essay Professor Thirmin had asked for? The one on foreign object transfiguration? I was barely able to manage the two sides and we were expected to cover three." It was a rushed conversation but entirely expected considering the state of their previously comfortable schooling day.
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George looked as scared as Brennan had, but where Brennan's temper had flared, George just seemed to shrink into himself. It hurt, seeing her best friend like this. After a moment, she realized it was the first time she'd thought of George like that, but it rang true. George and Seine were the closest friends she had here. She missed her girlfriends from home, but they didn't know about this part of her, and it was difficult to feel close to them with such an enormous secret in her heart. But George and Seine always waited for her, always had a joke and a story, and she looked forward to every day they had together.

Still, best friends or not, Sadie couldn't understand why they seemed so bored by their homework.

"Um, yeah," Sadie laughed a little nervously. "It's not like it was a lot?"

One of the things that had struck her was just how more relaxed Hogwarts was. She hadn't gone to the world's most prestigious school, but her workload had been ramping up as she had been getting older, and her muggle teachers had assigned far more work than this. Sadie usually found herself going comparatively overboard with her work, but she was used to a far more aggressive pace.

"Ugh," Seine grumbled intelligently.

"I must once again remind you that you are always welcome to join me in the library after class. We can do our work together," Sadie offered, but Seine pulled a face at her.

"You spend hours there," He complained. Sadie rolled her eyes.

"We are literally learning magic, breaking the laws of physics and doing impossible things. That should make you want to study nonstop," Sadie reminded Seine. They'd had this argument half a dozen times, and she suspected they would have it until they graduated.

They'd reached the Transfiguration classroom during their bickering. Seine pushed open the door and they filed in, taking their usual spots. The atmosphere in the classroom was like a coiled spring, ready to explode with energy. Other students were shooting George dark looks, whispering, and Sadie simply held her head high. She and Seine sat on either side of George in a show of solidarity.

The whispers were silenced upon the arrival of Professor Thirmin, and Sadie sank into the rhythm of the lesson.
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The school seemed muted compared to the excited volume it lingered on most days. Such was to be expected considering the news they'd received that morning. Just like Sadie and Seine, the halls were still echoing with the sound of students discussing what mattered in the present; School. Regardless of the situation at hand, their world certainly didn't feel like it was in danger. Perhaps, however, it was. To students like both the Nott children and the Dolohov siblings, their families were finally returning home. The smallest sense of happiness lingered within, a smile he wouldn't have shared in public. All George could do, was hope his parents were still reunited as Christmas arrived.

The Transfiguration classroom felt far more constrained than it usually did. The walls felt unnaturally enclosed, despite their previously large size. He turned his eyes to Sadie and followed suit; letting the glares fall within his peripheral vision. This would all blow over soon, surely. People would forget, surely?

George was more grateful than ever and allowed himself to focus entirely on the subject at hand, in an attempt to ignore the burning sensation in the centre of his skull.

"We should explore some more of the grounds this evening," George muttered whilst the room was preoccupied with the notes at hand. "There's the east side of the Black Lake that we haven't had the chance to see yet."

"It would be cool to see if we can spot the Merpeople beneath the Lake." Seine smiled encouragingly, furthering their friend's request to remain entirely out of the view of the remainder of the school. "It's a shame we're not old enough to leave the Grounds yet. My Dad says Hogsmeade is cracking." The boy's positivity was appalling and contagious.

"I've heard good things about Honeydukes. I could ask my brother to bring us back something next time he goes." His tone quickly slid off into one of instability and self-doubt. The last few weeks had been nothing short of enjoyable; yet now George felt the mist of dread settling uncomfortably along the edges.

"You should definitely try Pepper Imps, Sadie." Their more cheerful friend returned with a grin wider than necessary.

George let the two of them speak for a moment as he uncomfortably considered the day's news. Had Sadie and Seine not remaining his friends, he likely would have been sat alone. He'd thank them one day; when he thought as much to do so. For now, however, he meerly clutched at his least healthy thoughts and made an extended effort to remain focused on the lesson; one of which ended much longer after George had hoped- or his preception of time certainly felt off.
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Sadie frowned as George and Seine whispered during the lesson. Had the morning not been quite so awful, she might have shushed them and gotten annoyed. But with things so raw, she couldn’t muster the will to be so sharp. She was already several chapters ahead in the textbook, frustrated by the snail’s pace Professor Thirmin seemed all too content to set.

Suddenly she could hear the Hat humming in her head, Plenty clever…what a thirst to prove yourself. It had flashed images of eagles swathed in bronze and blue with those words in her head, and it seemed all too ready to name her a Ravenclaw before it found whatever had tipped the scales so firmly to Gryffindor. Privately, Sadie wondered if she had been sorted wrong. She loved her house, her friends, but it was frustrating, feeling so alone in her wonder.

Sadie shook her head to clear it. What was done was done—there was no resorting, as far as she knew. She’d just have to make the best of it.

“I’d like the see the squid again,” Sadie murmured. She arched a brow at Seine’s insistence she try some unheard of sweet. Pepper Imps? “Those do not sound good.”

“Would you like to share your conversation with the class?” Professor Thirmin called suddenly. Sadie flushed scarlet, dropping her gaze to her notes. Seine had the good grace to look uncomfortable and manage a quiet ‘no’. Professor Thirmin frowned but, mercifully, did not dock any points and continued on.

The rest of their lessons passed by in a rush. Sadie led the way to the lake, chattering with Seine about music. He was filling her in on the classics of the wizarding world, and seemed amused by the muggle artists she named in return. He offered to lend her records and look bemused when she burst out laughing, calling them quaint.

“Records. What are we, hipsters?” Sadie snorted, “I mean, they’ve got great sound quality and all, but come on. Digital is so much more convenient.”

Seine looked at her blankly, and Sadie sighed.

“It’s like this world is trying to stay backwards,” She said theatrically, tossing her hands in the air.

The three of them were following the banks of the lake, the castle growing ever more distant. The black forrest seemed to almost beckon to her, trees rustling, and it took Sadie a great deal of willpower to remember that it was forbidden.

“We’re not backwards,” Seine said, sounding a little defensive. Sadie snorted again.

“You use owls for mail, Seine. Owls. Back home, I can email or text and get a response instantly. Or call someone instantly, without having to shove my head in a fireplace. I mean, magic is great and all, and I’m super happy to be here, but it’s like I was shot back fifty years. This is so weird.”

“We’ve got quidditch! And dragons!”

“I’ll give you dragons.”
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