CHAPTER ONE
✧
-: seventh year :-

── A TRAIN JOURNEY

. . .

HE HADN'T SEEN HER FOR A FEW WEEKS PRIOR to that, and it seemed all rather sudden that the scent of her perfume - a draft of vanilla, milky sweet coffee, wild strawberries and rose that reminded him so terribly of the day spent out on the porch of his Uncle's house in the North - entered the train carriage he was sat in.

The newspaper in front of his face rustled as he abandoned all cause of reading it, rings of hazel scattered over the article detailing one of the Death Eaters more recent attacks; a house in Dover ransacked, the inhabitants; almost all of which were employees of the Ministry and most decisively Muggle-born; had been left for the dead, before closing it.

Celia was already stood behind him, gleaming silver badge attached to the brown tweed blazer. A sight in a somewhat haphazardly thrown together outfit (there was something about the flower-print cotton dress that didn't match to her headband, or the brick-orange heeled loafers), the Greengrass looked almost exactly the same as when Regulus had left her, blonde hair curling upwards at her shoulders, freckles only made more precise over the bridge of her nose .

She was clutching a small bag, Hogwarts trunk discarded somewhere else, and as she took a seat in front of him, a small sudoku book emerged from the confines, a red and black striped pencil sharpened almost down to the lead following. Celia hadn't yet noticed his eyes following her every movement, assuming his attention still lay on that morning's edition of the Daily Prophet, and when she looked up she met his eyes.

"Hi." She smiled warmly, pencil already in her hands, fingers sprayed as she flattened the spine of her book out. "I heard your Uncle Alphard died."

"He did. Mother removed him from the tapestry upon finding out he had given my brother the majority of his money. I got the keys to his house in the Lake District though." Regulus replied, the distinct smell of burnt threads coming to mind. "I spent a week or so there at the beginning of August."

"I suppose it was quite enjoyable?"

"It was, I spent a couple of afternoons when it wasn't raining on the lawn, and the rest of the days looking through his belongings." Regulus could see it clearly, the rain pouring down outside whilst he holed himself up in the library, the fire lit up in a roaring orange whilst he delved through drawers, attempting to find anything of value, whether that be momentary or sentimental. "We can go up in the spring, if you like. There is a number of books you may enjoy, and the odd Muggle item I'd rather keep out of my mother's view"

Celia nodded, more than understanding. She didn't reply for a moment, her gaze on the urban setting flying by. Then, she turned back to him. "Why not go at Christmas? Mother and Father are planning on inviting my grandfathers over, and you know how difficult that can become.. having to keep them in separate rooms because they can't quite comprehend human decency. We would probably end up at Grimmauld Place again, simply because there isn't enough of us to entertain now that Audrey ran off with your brother."

At the mention of their siblings, the conversation arrived at a lull. It was neither a pleasant nor distressing topic, it just seemed to be suspended there above them.

Regulus cleared his throat. "At Christmas it would be too cold. In the spring I can send Kreacher to clean it up."

That was the end of it, a puff of steam escaping the chimney at the end of the Hogwarts Express and a whistle following, the train continued forward. They soon left behind the cities, taking the route so familiar to them through the rolling hills and countryside of England.

Celia sat neatly, legs tucked and arms resting delicately on the edge of the table. The nib of her pencil scratched numbers into the small boxes, occasionally muttering under her breath, watching with satisfaction as the lead disappeared. Her journey had begun rather late this time; as opposed to finding a carriage with Regulus and her friends at the start of the train ride she had landed in the Prefect Coach, being introduced as the Head Girl for that year.

Regulus had been there - somewhere, most likely hidden in the back with his book and a cigarette. There was no way he would be making his way up and down the corridors of the train to make sure nobody was doing anything stupid. He had barely waited around for the Head Boy to introduce himself - a Hufflepuff named Kai Fowler, who Celia actually got along with rather well. She wasn't too sure where their other Slytherin counterparts were located, but considering the busyness that would take over when they arrived at Hogwarts, neither seemed to mind that they weren't going to see the group of four until then.

There was a considerably loud chortle of laughter from a group sitting in a booth further up the open carriage. Celia pushed her pencil into the curve of the spine, looking up. Regulus was still watching her quietly, unable to quite comprehend her reappearance after a summer apart. They hadn't spent that long away from each other prior to their Hogwarts years.

"I can't believe your mother insists on dressing you like Muggle folk did half a century ago." She pushed away her book, pushing herself up on the velvet-covered seat and leaning over to twist the material tied beneath the stiff collar of his shirt. "Under your robes must you wear the strange waistcoat.. that I believe might have been fashionable in the 19th century?" She asked, finger sliding beneath the material.

"I can't quite bring myself to care, Celia." Regulus allowed himself to smile, dark hair falling over his eyes. "You would dress the same way for those parties my cousins host at Christmas.. though I suppose you wear a dress as opposed to trousers. Cigarette?"

"Please." She pushed the sudoku book back into her bag, activites long forgotten as she nodded. "You don't have a lighter?" Celia asked, watching as he shook his head. "Right.. excuse me." She was already on her feet, Regulus scrambling to follow. Scanning the carriage, her eyes landed on a small group towards the front of the carriage. "Thank you." The words held no true gratitude as she reached over and stole the peek of gold from the chest pocket of one of their shirts. "The plaid is a travesty, by the way."

Regulus scoffed as he followed, having no issue leaving their items by their booth knowing that nobody would even dare to touch it. Complaints rang in their ears as they exited the carriage, leaving them ignored as they made their way down the thin corridor that adjourned the various private compartments.

A summer breeze already drifted steadily through the open window at the end of the long, long compartment coach, almost half the train down from where the pair had been sitting minutes before. They had done it earlier in the year before - the summer and autumn were the only times when it was warm enough to do such a thing.

Regulus stood on his tiptoes to pull the glass further inwards, arm above to swing the small golden hook into place. A hand reached into his blazer pocket, slender fingers curling around the small cardboard packet within. Clutching the stolen lighter, a cigarette was lit and raised to Celia's lips in seconds, tapping his chin with her index finger and slipping the small cylinder between his lips before turning towards the window.

Her elbows arched towards the curved ceiling, fingers gritting into the somewhat grimy window panes. "We won't fly away, will we?" Her eyes sparked when she looked back at him, alight with amusement at the thought crossing her mind. "Ready?"

His hands met her waist, eyes following her own gaze down to the small box fitted into the wall. The curve of the brick orange shoe slotted into the space, perhaps much more ill-suited for their choice in activity. A nod came from the boy, who held on tight as she pulled herself upwards.

In several succeeding movements, she had hauled her body through the window and her hands moved onto the decorative golden rail that was placed directly by the opening - most likely not merely ornamental, but used for safety in exiting if there were to be an accident. With some careful manoeuvre, the curve of her knee trapped the flower-covered material between the skin and window pane, bottom held up by the small ledge outside of the window and back resting on the golden rail.

Wind whipped at her hair, and in a moment she had adjusted the headband to trap the wavering curls that flooded the outline of her face and cut the golden waves off from her features. Regulus watched as her hand reached forward, held out for him. He took it, somehow managing to keep the cigarette balanced between his lips as he copied her actions, sitting beside her on the ledge on the side of the train, metal indents forming on his back.

A pair of Oxford shoes hung from the window, brick coloured leather loafers floating beside, joined by the strangely embroidered chiffon socks that rippled and gathered by her ankles and came to a stop at uneven points up her calves.

The cigarette was passed between them as they relaxed, exhilaration pumping as they took in the scenery they traveled past. A minute or so later they had emerged from the heavy forest shadowed by the looming hills, and emerged out into open air, dark water of a vast lake spinning out behind them.

Fingers clutching at each other's shoulders and the golden rail that supported them and stopped them from falling, Celia and Regulus turned to face the expanse of water behind them. In the scintillating sun, it seemed so magnificent, a copse of trees on a small, circular lump of land emerging from just off the center

"I suppose we must be in the Lakes by now, Reggie." The nickname spilled from her lips without even thinking, and Regulus averted his gaze from her cheek back to the cigarette burning in his hands. "Point out whereabouts your Uncle lived? I assume you did pass here." She continued, as his eyes followed the spark of colour from her earrings against her hair.

He curved his hand to protect the cigarette from the wind, ignoring the muted tones of the flower-shaped metal and paint, lifting it to his mouth and taking a drag before answering.

"I did, Celia.. You see that hill, no, that far one over there." Regulus said, turning towards her again and placing a hand on her shoulder, directing her towards his point of interest. "At the foot, there is another lake. He lived a mile or so from there, the water hidden by a forest like the Forbidden one."

"Pretty?" Celia asked, looking towards him as they reached a particularly tight curve in the water, a bridge spanning across the gap under which the river feeding into the lake entered with several arches of red, mossy brick crossed beneath them as they held onto the railings and each other particularly tight just in case.

"Rather so." Regulus nodded. "At sunset, when the sun lowers towards the horizon is when it's best. I was reading.. Alphard's copy of The Iliad again. Leather-bound, about 170 years old, from what I can see from the copyright page."

"Hm.. and will that still be there when we visit together?" Celia reached her hand out, crossing her legs out in front of her, Regulus handed her the cigarette. Her feet hung through the window, the heads of several passersby ducked and bobbed out of view. "I assume it will be, if nobody else is there."

"It should be." Regulus confirmed, looking up as he felt something tap on the tip of his shoe. "Fowler, congratulations on the new title." Celia followed his gaze, eyes landing on the sight of an auburn-haired Kai Fowler. "I'm assuming you're here for Celia?"

"Hi, there." Celia shuffled forward as she greeted him, cigarette poking out between her lips. "You don't smoke, do you?" She watched as he shook his head. "Then-" Her concentration on him wavered as she turned back towards Regulus, holding out the cigarette. "What can I help you with, Kai? Not worried about Alchemy already, are you?"

"You're worried about it?" The mention of their shared favourite subject sparked an interest in Regulus as well, who followed Celia's actions in coming to sit in the rectangular gap of the window, eyes wide at the mention of it. "Slughorn's still teaching it. I figured Dumbledore would've hired a professional, but I couldn't quite be sure."

"I bloody hope so." Kai joked, eyes flashed with amusement as he stared up at the two of them. "Faye Kors is joining this year, and as much as I prefer the company of several Gryffindors to a pair of considerably cynical Slytherins-'' he looked pointedly between Regulus and Celia "- I must admit how annoying I find her voice."

Celia scoffed. "Faye Kors won't last."

"Nothing more to say on that?"

"Nope, but I suppose it doesn't hurt for her to try something a little out of her intellectual depth."

"Well." Kai was trying his hardest not to pass too harsh of a judgement, but deep down he couldn't really do anything but agree. "I wasn't worried about Alchemy, but now I am at the very least somewhat concerned. However, I am here to let you know that Slughorn is looking for you - sounded quite distraught that you didn't come and visit him following your prefect shifts - wanted to congratulate you on your new position, and offer his condolences for your.. Uncle?" His gaze shifted between each of the pair once more, looking a little more relaxed once it was confirmed.

"Of course." Regulus nodded.

"Wouldn't expect anything different from the head of our beloved Slug Club." Despite the club being made up of entirely talented and over-achieving individuals, it clearly wasn't held so high in Celia's esteem. "Did he not manage to remember how Regulus was made Quidditch Captain either? Or was that just too obvious of an observation?"

"I suppose we had better go." Regulus used the small box of a ledge on which they were perched on to put out the rest of the cigarette, tapping the end hurriedly on the metal before edging forward even further. His gaze landed on Kai once more. "Anything else?" He asked.

"Just that perhaps it isn't best for the younger years to see their Head Girl hanging out of windows." Kai shrugged. "Enjoy your meeting, Celia, I'll see you at the Feast." He excused himself with a wave, hands digging into his pocket as he made his way down the thin corridor.

Regulus was the first to jump from the window, hands pushing himself off the ledge. He turned back, hand reaching out to help his friend down.

"What a strange fellow." Celia murmured as she took his hand, the cold metal of his rings pressing against her skin, the curve of her nails pinching ever so slightly into his skin as she pulled herself down, landing neatly.

✧

"Ah, here they are!" The jolly, booming voice of their Head of House echoed in their ears as they twisted the golden handle of the door into Compartment C open. Regulus and Celia had retrieved their items after watching Kai stride away in the opposite direction, passing the window they had escaped out of on their way to the momentary destination that belonged to the Slug Club.

"Our wayward Slytherins return!" Slughorn was by their sides in an instant, golden pocket watch chain swinging above the tailored grey and white window-pane plaid waistcoat that stretched across his stout build. "Celia, Regulus - no doubt up to... what's an activity that young lovers enjoy these days, huh?"

He turned towards them, both of them pausing before arranging polite smiles on their faces. "We were just.. greeting each other after the holidays." Regulus cut in, finding his hands folded behind his back instinctively and he hurried to rearrange them. "As friends."

Slughorn waved off his comment without a care in the world. It was almost as if the Black hadn't said anything at all.

There was a chuckle, a shake of a head. "You know, Professor, I've never heard of a couple whose lack of physical affection triumphs just how strange they are." Evan Rosier dug his hands into the pockets of his trousers, smile glinting in the amber light of the wall lamp above his head. "Sometimes they just sit there, and often look towards each other as though they should find the answers to everything in each other's eyes."

"You're lucky you still have yours." Celia sidled past both Regulus, Slughorn and his multitude of other talented and famous individuals with her wand raised at just-about eye level, Evan only raising an eyebrow as they came to sit in the booth in front of him.

"Zabini's at the toilet." Evan continued.

"Yemaya? She came here?" Celia looked surprised.

"No, I'm lying to you - of course she came here, she's a part of the Club, oui?"

There was a sharp intake of air above them as Celia was prompted to shift over by a tap on her shoulder. Yemaya wore a grimace on her face as she sat down. "Not by my own choice. God, my mother is rumoured to be immortal but it's my sister and her bloody potion discovery." She rolled her eyes.

"I'm more surprised she didn't get disowned or something." A fifth voice joined the conversation. "Besides, I'm here simply because I share the same name of my father and he is the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"Bartemius!" As if on cue, Slughorn appeared behind the fifth member of the group, looking down on them. "How is your father? I heard he recently celebrated his fiftieth! Didn't happen to receive that bottle of Port I sent along? It was quite a find on my behalf, I believe."

Barty Crouch Jr. arranged a smile that, to Slughorn, would look nothing but polite, but to those who knew him better it seemed far more malicious. "He did, Professor. Sent along his thanks.. I believe a note and some of Mother's famed fudge is on it's way."

Of course, his mother would never go near the kitchen. The fudge was made at the hands of their house-elf, Winky. Slughorn babbled on about something else and Celia, curious, leaned forward. "Is it really?" She asked, eyebrows raised almost conspiratorially.

"Who knows?" Barty shrugged. "Father hasn't looked my way in months, far too concerned with overthrowing Minchum at the next chance he gets. Of course, spent hours doting on my mother, no, I spent my summer with-"

"Caius - my, you are looking well. Very tan - and freckly." Slughorn was yet to leave their booth, finding his interest didn't stray away from the group of known individuals in his own house. Now, he didn't have a muggle-born, ginger-haired potions protégé to hover around, he was settling for the next bit.

"Why, thank you, Sir." By far the most charismatic of the lot, Caius Avery had a grin on his face that rivaled and prevailed over the courteous expressions his friends honed. "Spent the summer with my brother and his girlfriend in Italy. Can't say I saw much of them, but I enjoyed the days out in the city. Saw some marvellous wizards in Florence, had a rather impressive stall of potions I believe you would be considerably interested in."

"Did you really?" Slughorn took the line thrown at him and Caius had once again succeeded. "You wouldn't have happened to have procured a couple of these potions? Italian potioneering is an art in itself."

"I did, Sir. But unfortunately they're all in my trunk, but you must remind me to bring them to your office one day."

"It's a shame you didn't continue potions for your N.E.W.Ts, Avery." Slughorn shook his head. "But alas, there's no use dwelling on that now. I would be rather glad to have a look at them."

"It is a shame." Caius's eyes glinted as he glanced over at his friends, who looked relatively relieved to no longer have to engage in conversation with the overly-enthusiastic teacher. "Of course, it's also such a shame that I forgot my presents for this grump of people - especially the ones that congratulated Celia and Regulus on their splendid new positions."

The look that appeared on both of their faces was easily enough to kill Caius on the spot, and the Avery relished it.

"Of course! Forgive me for not mentioning it earlier!" Slughorn turned back to the latecomers to their meeting.  "Head girl - really, Celia, I believe you are the perfect person to fill the.. rather big shoes left behind by your predecessor."

"I'd rather get my own pair of shoes, Professor. My taste is completely different." Celia replied, biting back any further disagreement with a Gryffindor having held the position. Lily Potter was nowhere near as annoying as her boyfriend, but there weren't many redeeming qualities either.

"Of course, of course. Us Slytherins, always looking to heighten the standards for everyone else." Slughorn nodded. "As we should,  of course - if not, who else would? It's in our blood.. our blood." He dithered. "Head girl is truly impressive.. as your Head of House and your no doubt favourite professor - I couldn't be prouder."

"Of course, Sir. It is, with your guidance, aid and counsel that I was able to manage my studies and brush up my skills." Celia nodded diplomatically, always prepared to etch herself further into a teacher's good books.

Regulus prepared himself for the attention coming to him, Adam's apple bobbing.

It came quickly, a clap on his shoulder with a hand that stayed there, the presence of rings managing to dig through through the material of his shirt. "Regulus, my boy." Slughorn's rumbling voice had taken on a tone of remorse and sadness that were reserved mostly for one thing. "I was saddened to hear of your Uncle's death. Alphard and I were in school together.. didn't manage to keep contact over the years but I regret not being able to say my goodbyes."

"He wasn't all that talkative on his death bed." Celia's remorse he could deal with. He could deal with anything that had Celia involved. But Horace Slughorn almost constantly seemed counterfeit.

Across the table, Evan smirked.

"Oh no-"

"Worried everyone with coughing for days and had Mother send up Kreacher to make him soup. Laughed when she asked where his will was, died overnight, they find the will in the morning and he's left my brother everything but his house and the contents in it - which went to me." Regulus spoke plainly, not disguising the obvious meaning behind his words; finding the will and reading it's contents wasn't a happy affair.

"Well.. we know how we are with our pride, yes?" Horace blinked. Sirius Black certainly wasn't his favourite student, but the Gryffindor had been admired by many.

"S'pose so."

"But yet - you received role of Quidditch Captain this year. After Montague leaving last year I simply couldn't think of anyone better, I suppose you all agree?"

"Eh - I was thinking Evan." Yemaya shrugged, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "But Regulus is a.. good choice."

"Hey." Regulus grinned but it was joined by a swift kick to her ankle below the table, expression not wavering as the Zabini winced. "Thank you, Professor, for allowing me the title. My father was most proud when he heard the news." With that, there was a bitter flash in his eyes. "But you were speaking of Yemaya's sister?"

"Ah yes - wonderful work Lucrezia has done. Truly, creating a potion that eases the symptoms of lycanthropy, is a marvellous creation. Incredibly complex - could hardly believe it when I heard Damocles had made it, but when I saw a Zabini name alongside a Belby, I had a little more faith that it is nothing short of an effective potion." Slughorn smiled. "Pass along my congratulations. I'd send a present of sorts but I'm not sure where to - always moving around, isn't she?"

"You could say so." Yemaya nodded. "But... I do have to wait for the owl to deliver her letter myself, or else it could end up in.. Merlin - Norway or something."

Slughorn nodded, wishing them all well before departing their booth with an inclination in his words to go and greet others in the compartment with a similar manner of asking about their famed, well-off or former Slytherin relatives. He did it in the politest of ways and had the most amazing way of retaining information about those talented individuals, but the bustling Slytherin Head of House - who was less like a Slytherin than anyone currently in his house - seemed nothing but a social climber.

And the group would treat him as such. There was no denying his status as a Pure-blood, but it would only get him so far. Unlike themselves, he didn't have a family to propel themselves forward or impress his students, but at least he had the charisma.

That did undeniably drive those a part of the Slug Club absolutely nuts, but there was a further title added to the variety already placed above them from being a member and the exclusivity of it was something often admired and envied by other students.

"Norway, really?" Caius looked more than interested, leaning forward in his seat besides Regulus and Celia. His elbows were balanced on the table, pointed features directed towards the Zabini. "What in the hells possessed your sister to go to Norway?"

"Not Norway, per se.. last I heard she was somewhere in Denmark.. or perhaps that was the letter before. She has quite the liking for Italy, thinks she might-"

"I'm bored." Celia announced, voice dry and clearly interrupting.

Yemaya faltered. "Pardon?"

"I'm bored. Don't have anything worthy to add to this conversation." She shrugged, pretty features contorted into an almost-snarl. "So I'm going. Believe there's a seat left empty since Kai told me Slughorn wanted me."

"I'm coming too.. sorry. Not very interested in Bulgaria or.. whatever." Regulus, who clearly hadn't been paying any attention to the conversation at hand for quite some time, made to get up as well, Caius standing and moving out into the aisle for them.

The four remaining friends watched as they disappeared down the aisle and out of the carriage. "Merlin." Evan scoffed, adjusting his seat. "They really think so much of themselves that they can just up and leave? Think their last names give them that much status above us? They really see themselves as some fucking exclusive group who just parade-"

"Lay off it, Evan." Yemaya interrupted his rant. "You know they've always been like that.. strange and cold and ever-so brutally honest. Once upon a time we all appreciated that, right? Cut them some slack alright? It can't be easy for Celia to hear about Lucrezia and not think about Audrey."

"What about Regulus then? Did he have to disappear at the mention of her?" It was Barty this time, who was fidgeting with his watch.

"Where he goes, she goes. Where she goes, he goes." Yemaya nodded. "Like it's always been. I really don't know why this is all coming as a shock to you." She said. "It's been a tough couple years.. tough summer, they just got worse - quieter, that is."

Caius's eyes flickered over to Evan. The Rosier stared back, unflinchingly confident in the watery, almost translucent eyes. "So don't use this as a chance to start a row of bashing two of our closest friends, yeah, Evan? I doubt that us splitting up as a group will fare well when we - take the mark - next year." His voice had dropped to a whisper, but their gazes hadn't left each other.

"Like the Dark Lord would want a queer in his ranks." Evan spat, getting to his feet and stalking off in the opposite direction in which Celia and Regulus had disappeared.

Barty and Yemaya watched Caius carefully, saw the flicker of betrayal amongst the blue. "Right - guess he values the sentiment then. Really gets it, doesn't he, Evan?" The blond swallowed as he stood as well.

It was rather often that Yemaya became the focus point of attempting to make amends between people. "Caius - come on, he's projecting, probably had his dad call him all sorts over the last couple weeks." She spoke up, almost desperately. It was most un-Slytherin of her, but there was a reason she got along so well with their Head of House.

"And that excuses.." Avery's words came out stilted. "Like what?"

"Queer.. fag.. some variety of Muggle insult." Yemaya swallowed, her eyes darting over to Barty, then around the carriage just in case. She lowered her voice. "He saw him hug you at the end of the term last year, seems to think a firm handshake is all you need."

"Jesus." Caius scoffed. "Fucking hell." His hand reached for his hair instinctively, only to find it somewhat greasy with the gel he forced in it. "Fuck - can't use that as an excuse though, can he? Fucking means it too. Reckon Celia and Regulus have the right idea, being all closed and quiet and honest. I'd pay for some bloody honesty around here."

He stalked off in a haze of anger.

They hadn't even lasted until Hogwarts.

. . .

── A TRAIN JOURNEY