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ALBANY BRONWEN WAS GOING TO BE the death of George Weasley, and he was perfectly okay with that.

From the moment he'd met her gaze in the train station, fiery yet shielded, he'd been intrigued. Of the prankster duo, George liked to consider himself the brains behind the operation. He did the thinking, the planning, the puzzling together of their greatest tricks. While Fred shared this responsibility, he was more involved in the action and reward. They worked well that way, both happy. Fred loved explosive outcomes, and George enjoyed figuring things out. From the moment he'd met Albany Bronwen, he'd been drawn to figure her out, too.

He'd never intended on befriending the Slytherin, and certainly hadn't expected to catch feelings.

Both of these things had been, at first, collateral damage in an elaborate scheme to get to know her. Now, they were welcome experiences. Now, he spent time with Albany because they were friends. Because her smile made his heart beat out of his chest with joy, and her dry humour left any tension in his shoulders in the dust.

He was, as some would put it, hopelessly in love with the girl he'd merely once been curious about. She was a complex mystery with answers always held just out of reach, luring him in, further and further until he was free-falling in the dark and putting all his trust in her to catch him; she was also Albany Bronwen, whose laugh made roses bloom in his chest and whose dimples made his heart melt. Because of course she had dimples so endearing he couldn't tear his eyes away, and of course his dumb jokes brought a butterfly-inducing grin to her face.

The mystery was what had drawn him in, but Albany had wrapped him right around her finger and convinced him to stay. And he knew Albany, and how she bit her cheek when she was anxious, and covered her smile self-consciously. He knew she was more nervous a person than she let on, but a more fun-loving and good-humoured one, too. And really, how could anyone have expected him not to fall for her?

He couldn't remember when he'd first noticed his feelings — but Fred had known ever before he even considered telling him, as twins always do. There was no keeping secrets between the brothers; they knew each other inside out, like the back of their hands but better. And despite the teasing and joking George had to put up with as a result, Fred became a handy ally in the mission to win the girl's heart.

Well, maybe not to win her heart just yet. That was more like step seven of a five-step plan. Fred's job was simply gathering whether or not Albany was potentially interested in George in the same light in which he was interested in her, and then they would build on things from there.

"You're thinking about her again."

Apparently, even thinking of the devil made him appear. Fred wore a knowing smirk as he peered over his twin's shoulder at the same sheet of blank parchment George had been staring absently at for the past who-knows-how-long.

"I can't help it," George groaned, burying his face into his hands. "She's just... amazing, you know?"

"So I've heard," Fred remarked sarcastically. "Just a couple times. Maybe ten, or fifty...."

George elbowed him, his face donning a shade comparable to his hair. George Weasley was a planner, prepared for everything. George Weasley did not get flustered. "Were you like this before you and Angelina got together?"

Fred shrugged, taking his seat once again opposite his twin to continue doing his Transfiguration homework. "Not really. But things with me and Angie are... different."

"Not going well," George noted, reading his brother's tight expression. It wasn't a question.

"I wouldn't say that," Fred said, wincing. "I just... it feels like we're still just friends, who occasionally do other stuff. It doesn't feel like a relationship, you know?"

George twirled his quill between his fingers in thought. "I guess," he replied. "You think it's because you were friends with her for so long?"

Fred shrugged, making a face. "Maybe," he said. "I don't think it'll be awkward if we go back to being just friends again. I think she feels the same way about things."

"Have you talked to her about it?"

"Well... no."

George chuckled. "Great start, Forge."

"Shut up, Gred," Fred shot back. He took a moment to scribble down a heading for his essay before his expression softened. "I think what you and Albany have is different in a good way, though. It's real."

"You say that like we're already together," George laughed nervously.

Fred rolled his eyes. "Merlin, you might as well be!" he groaned. "Honestly, you two act like an old married couple. I've never met two idiots so oblivious."

George couldn't help the worried frown that crossed his face. "You think she likes me back? Like that?"

"Oh, Georgie," Fred teased, putting on a silly voice. "Poor, innocent wittle Georgie. Does she wike me back?! If you don't ask her out soon, I'm asking for you."

George narrowed his eyes. "Don't you dare."

Fred rolled his eyes. "I won't, relax. Just strongly considering shoving your faces together, because the tension between you two is so unbearable that I constantly feel like I'm interrupting something."

George threw his quill at the boy. "Alright, I get it! Shut up."

Fred grinned, shaking his head. "Of course you'd go for the descendant of bloody Merlin."

George glanced hastily around the common room, but the few people present were too caught up in their own conversations to notice. He glared at his twin. "Mind keeping your voice down?"

Fred promptly ignored him. "What do you think of all that, anyway?" he asked conversationally, waving away his brother's concerns.

"What do you mean — do I believe her? Yeah, obviously — we saw him ourselves, didn't we?"

"I'm not saying I don't believe her," Fred murmured, and did lower his tone this time, smile fading. "What I mean is... I don't know how to put it. I feel like she's... important, somehow. Aside from the obvious," he added quickly, at George's confused expression. "I dunno, it's just... since the Quidditch World Cup, and things happening at Dad's work, and stuff... I feel like we're... like the whole world is on the brink of something big. And she's gonna be part of it."

George's eyebrows furrowed together in concern; he hated to admit it, but Fred had a point. The Death Eater attack over the summer was hardly a random coincidence. If such a group was organising again, something dark was on the horizon... and for Merlin's direct descendant to show up in the middle of it all....

"What can I say?" he joked weakly. "Us Weasleys love a bit of adventure, eh?"

Fred gave a small smile. "Well, I'm up for it if you are, George."

George smiled. Whatever Albany was going to have to face, he never wanted her to have to do so alone. Merlin's ghost or not, he was always going to be there. "Always, Fred."

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Albany was glaring darkly across the table as she drank her coffee. The victim of her gaze was a younger Hufflepuff who had been sneaking scornful glances at her all morning, and was now attempting to hide behind his friend's back, face red and nervous. Albany growled under her breath, setting down her cup in a hard-won triumph.

"I can't believe people are still talking about you," Carly sighed, following her gaze. "It has been two months by now, surely."

Albany sighed, and brought her sleeve to rub the coffee from her mouth. "People love to talk," she mumbled, her fire dimming now that it had no target. "I'm just waiting for the next big thing to happen, and then I'll be left alone."

"You missed a bit," George murmured from beside her, and reached out with his thumb to wipe a spot from her lips. He smiled. "Got it."

Albany was frozen and flushed pink; the Great Hall suddenly felt quite warm. Her next words had caught in her throat, forgotten.

Fred, thankfully, picked up the conversation again easily. "The second task is coming up soon," he reminded her. "If you do well, you'll for sure win back some of the school's support."

Albany pouted. "If," she echoed, sighing. "And not everyone will just blindly follow me anymore. They think I'm some kind of freak."

"You're not a freak," Carly said, voice firm.

"I know," Albany mumbled, gaze dropping. "But not everyone is as kind as you."

Carly frowned, turning back to her breakfast. She was still bringing the golden egg everywhere with her; she seemed more invested in solving it than Albany was, who had finally given up after months with no success. It was sitting heavy on the table with them, its very presence irritating. Carly had tried everything under the sun to crack the code; even her long list of creative methods was beginning to run dry. She gave the scaly egg a flick, desperate hope dying in her eyes as no response came.

"Maybe it really is just a banshee," Fred suggested with a shrug.

Albany shook her head. "That doesn't sound right," she argued wearily, "but I dunno anymore. Maybe it is. I just don't see how a banshee is comparable to a dragon."

"Maybe they're easing up on you," George chimed in cheerfully. "After everyone nearly died."

Albany's mouth opened to respond, but the words were left unsaid as her eyes were drawn to the entrance of the hall and the sight there distracted her. Moody was walking Faith towards the Slytherin table, and the girl looked as though she'd been in tears. Her face was shiny and blotched red, her eyes watery and head held low. Albany's eyes narrowed as she observed the pair wordlessly, wondering what on earth had gone down between them.

Moody's magical eye immediately spun to meet her gaze; Albany didn't look away, but tensed considerably.

"Al?" George called softly, and she glanced to him, relaxing. His hand was holding her own, gently releasing the tablecloth from her iron grip and stretching out her fingers. "You good?"

"Yeah," Albany murmured, shying away from his gaze with a small smile. It slipped from her face again as she glanced back to Moody worriedly. "I've just gotta ask someone something...."

"I'll come with you," George offered, standing as she did, but Albany carefully pulled her hand from his, smiling at him.

"It's okay," she assured the boy, and made her way across the hall alone.

Moody's gaze snapped her way ever before she should have entered the man's vision, and she shuddered. Faith, upset as she appeared, was hasty in fixing the girl a fearsome glare before she turned her back to her, and Moody and Albany were left alone. She felt the concerned gazes of her friends on her back as the professor laid an unwelcome hand on her shoulder, guiding her to the edge of the room.

"Professor Moody," she began reluctantly, and had to remind herself not to give in to the overwhelming temptation to glance at Faith. "I—"

"Still haven't figured out your clue for the second task, eh?" Moody interrupted, and Albany was so caught off guard by his assumption that she didn't have time to argue her real question. "Come on, Bronwen. Your competitors are already in the know."

This information threw Albany even more off balance. So it wasn't a banshee? So she was missing something? So she was falling far behind Krum and Fleur and the risks surrounding the tournament were only growing in her ignorance of what was going to happen?

"Does Ha— does Potter know?" she whispered urgently, all thoughts of Faith abandoned. Harry had been the one to tip her off about the first task, after all; had he figured out the second, too?

Moody gave a thoughtful hum. It sounded more like a growl. "He's clueless, I'm afraid," he explained gruffly, and then leaned in closer. Albany caught a whiff of his breath and held her own, struggling not to make a face; whatever he was always drinking smelled like rotten fish. "Between you and me, though, I hear golden eggs are partial to a splash in the lake this time of year."

Albany's eyes widened as she gaped at him in shock; divulging information to the champions was strictly against the rules, she was sure — but then again, so was having four competitors — and Moody's eyes, as dark and beady and ominous as they were, didn't seem to be guilty of lying.

"Water?" she choked out eventually, mind running a hundred miles a minute.

"You didn't hear it from me," Moody warned her darkly, and limped away.

Heart pounding out of her chest, Albany glanced back to her friends, exchanging an astonished glance with them. To the lake it was, then.

In a sudden moment, all the previously forgotten stress of the tournament came flooding back to her as a nauseating anticipation made home in her stomach. Round two of the death competition was just on the horizon, and felt closer than ever; the puzzle pieces were about to fall into place, and they weren't waiting for her to be ready.

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❃ a/n:

THANK YOU FOR 100K AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ACTUAL TEARS I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH

i never thought we'd ever get this far like what??? 100K THATS ACTUALLY INSANE I CAN'T EVEN COMPREHEND

also sorry for how late this update was, i'm juggling at least 4 hours of homework each day without including study so i'm very short on time, thank you for being patient <3

- A x