Alistair's POV

For the rest of the visit, my hopes are soured, but I dare not let Gwen know how I'm feeling especially after watching her slowly warm up as the hours pass. I stay mostly quiet and as much in the background as Gwen will let me but she's never too far away, and I've noticed if she feels me trying to fade into a corner she'll grab my hand so we're connected or make a funny face behind Vinda's back so I'll have a reason to smile. 

Vinda gives us a tour of the house and she's shown us so many rooms I've lost count. This place is a maze and whoever did the extension charm on this property has truly outdone themselves. Gwen can't stop going on about it even now, not that I mind. Her enthusiasm over the property is the only shred of positivity I've experienced since our arrival. 

"I still say the Library is my favorite," she ponders, mindlessly pushing around the plump garden-tomato from her salad with her fork. After giving us a brief introduction of the Rosier Histories within the Hall of Roses, Vinda suggested that we stay for dinner before heading back to London. "And although the ballroom is glorious, the library still holds my number one spot."

"Really? Why's that?" Vinda asks with a sly winning smile and I bite my lips to keep from frowning, but ever since she made her intentions clear my jaw sets in a certain way anytime she speaks. 

"Well for starters, I've never seen anything like it," Gwen pauses before delivering the rest of her explanation. "There's so much knowledge kept within the room it feels as if it's almost alive. I've never seen a personal collection so large."

"As you get older you'll come to value all forms of wisdom, and I've had help over the years cultivating it."

"Plus, it's chilly and cozy, perfect for getting lost in the pages. And I find the ladders funny," Gwen hunches cutely before eating the last of her salad. 

"The ladders?" She giggles. "How so?"

"They're like massive librarians the way they care for the books. Some pretend to read them before putting them back, and they make excellent suggestions. And the way they purposefully walk around on their stilts, low-key makes me feel like I'm visiting a 19th century monastery."

I give a short laugh and she looks at me sharing in the smile, and a tender moment passes between us from across the dinner table. 

"It too is one of my passions," Vinda adds, intentionally breaking our connections. "Although my first love will forever be the greenhouse."

"I've never been one for plants," I comment low and I can feel her eyes shift disapprovingly towards me, until Gwen agrees. 

"Al's right. Although a useful practice, Herbology has never truly captured my interest."

"I felt the same at your age, however, I grew, just as the flowers, to appreciate their gradual beauty and the quiet sophistication of their language."

"Oh, you mean how certain flowers and shades carry a meaning in more than just their name alone?"

"Precisely," Vinda praises reaching for her wine-goblet, giving Gwen a small toast. "You are very perceptive. Your use of language suggests great intelligence."

"Gwen's the best in our year," I answer a little defensively, hearing how her compliment had traces of insult. "Just like she is as her school in the U.S."

"Ah, yes. Ilvermorny."

My eyes flick to Gwen and I'm happy to see she didn't miss it either. She sighs quietly letting Vinda's comment slide, turning her fork over to suggest that she's completed the first course and the dish disappears. 

"...This is your last year, yes?"

Gwen clears , grateful for the conversation change. "Yes. I can't believe the school year is almost over. Just a few more months, really."

"And your plans after commencement?" She presses eyeing the two of us carefully. 

I shrug, deciding to share the weight of her question. "Nothing can really be determined until after we take our N.E.W.T's. We're waiting to figure it out after our options become more substantial," I say steadily and when I look to Gwen she sends me a wink. 

Vinda scoffs immediately beginning to tear apart my answer. "But surely you must have some idea? With the year almost over, you can't afford not to seriously think about the paths your lives will take."

A solid beat passes before Gwen answers with a smile. "Well, Al is going to be the next greatest Keeper Britain's ever seen-"

"A Quidditch player," Vinda hisses disapprovingly beneath her breath, but Gwen talks over her with pride not dropping a single word.

"And I'm going to start a breeding sanctuary for Hippogriffs out in the English countryside," she grins living in the two-second fantasy she's painted for us and I smile as well enjoying the dream.

"Honestly! Quidditch? Hippogriffs? Have you completely-"

"I'm kidding," Gwen sighs letting the dream vanish. "Aunt Vinda, I'm kidding."

"...Heh-Heh. Funny?" She winces taking another sip of her wine. "More of your American-Humor."

We finish the rest of the meal and head to the parlor for dessert and tea. An enchanted, golden harp charms the atmosphere with Debussy's Clair de Lune and I roll my eyes at how stereotypical the music selection is. 

"You're not a fan of Debussy?" She notes arrogantly, gliding to take her seat by the fireplace. 

"He's alrigh', I guess," I add, claiming a quick pulse of pleasure at how her face winces at my use of Cockney. Too lowborn for her ears, I suppose. The air stiffens as we continue to stare at each other, and I shake my head trying to lighten the moment knowing Gwen is watching. "Is he a favorite of yours?"

She gives a solid nod allowing her silence to sour the mood before bringing Gwen into the conversation. "What about you, Guinevere?"

"Not particularly, no," she smiles shyly. "I'm too much of a realist to appreciate the romanticism behind his music...Give me Chopin or Berlioz any day."

"Are they your favorites?" I ask genuinely curious about her tastes in Muggle music, and she shrugs. 

"I think I'm too knowledgeable to limit myself to a specific genre or artist...But if I had to choose someone, I'd probably pick Chet Baker."

"I've never heard of him," Vinda adds scrunching her nose. "Is he an American Wizard?"

Gwen nods steadily, and it's like I can see her heart securing its defenses. "An American Muggle, and one of my father's favorites which is another reason why I enjoy the singer."

"...I see," Vinda replies wincing, slowly picking up her tea and beginning to drink it. 

The rest of the visit etches on and when we finally say our goodbyes I'm doing everything but tap-dancing my way out of the house. 

"I hope this visit indicates that when I write to you again, you will do me the kindness of replying," Vinda smiles and Gwen nods. "Thank goodness," she says surprising us both and entrapping Gwen in an embrace, but it's not a hug she can sink into. It doesn't seem...genuine, at least not to me. If anything it seems something formal and a nice addition to the two quick kisses she places on her cheeks. "Take care of yourself, and keep a lookout for my owl."

"Goodbye, Aunt Vinda" Gwen practically grimaces before trying to make it a real smile. "Thank you for the visit," she says easing away from her hold and I step forward to tell her goodbye.

"Young-Man," she nods extending her hand and I tuck my lips inward before pretending to kiss it. "Good luck with your future."

"Madame Rosier," I bow again releasing her. "Until next time," I add and she blinks a few times suppressing her shock. 

It isn't until we're almost three blocks away Gwen breaks her silence with a shaky laugh. "...Wow. That was-"

"Uh-huh...You okay?"

She opens to answer but then shakes her head smiling even bigger. "But it's over, right?" She nods finding the silver lining and that makes me smile. "I got through it."

"Yeah, and the next time it won't be as difficult," I offer, noticing how my mood deflates a little at the thought.

"...Thank you."

"You keep saying that," I chuckle knocking into her and she sways a little before colliding with my arm. 

"Because I really mean it...I don't know how I would've gotten through today without you," she says curling up to me. "And all that you had to go through, just to make sure I had some kind of support-" she pauses no doubt trying to stop the emotion attempting to break through. "...You know I'd do the same for you, right?"

"Of course I do, you already have," I smirk thinking of the clocktower, and I stop in the middle of the sidewalk to face her. My hands grip both sides of her face. "There's no boundary I wouldn't cross if it meant helping you. I love you just that much."

She inhales deeply before exhaling hard placing a hand on her stomach. "How do you do that? This was supposed to be about me, professing my gratitude and adoration for you, and you just sweep in with all your feels and-"

My lips fall on hers practically devouring the rest of her phrase and every sound that escapes thereafter. And that positive feeling charges within me, rumbling deep in the pit of my stomach until it feels like fire swirling inside my bones. And that good feeling lasts through our trek to the French Ministry of Magic, the swirling green flames that transport us back to London, the walk to the Leaky Cauldron, my trek to the train station and the rest of the way until I reach my bedroom. 

The magenta envelope swoops from my bed to my face, wrestling itself for me to open it until my fingers slip under the seal and a mouth forms. 

"Dear Mr. Xiang, the Ministry has received intelligence that at two-twenty-three, this morning, you performed the Doubling Charm. This is, as I am sure you are aware, a direct violation of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, and under normal circumstances would be grounds for further investigation and potential expulsion, however," the note pauses. "Seeing as how this is your first offense, and with your birthday being sheer hours away, we are willing to overlook this incident. This is, however, still a warning. And we hope that a young wizard with insurmountable potential and ambitious aspirations, such as yourself, would carefully consider the consequences of your actions even after the Trace is lifted..." the note shimmy's before concluding the rest of the letter. "May your seventeenth birthday free you from the terrors you've had to endure, Nestor Laghari, Improper Use of Magic Office."

The letter shreds itself leaving me half-stunned at what I've just gotten away with, and I glance at the clock. It's late but I've still got a few more hours until my birthday...until freedom.

When I was younger, I used to stay up and watch the time run into my birthday, but this year I'm finally able to sleep. Because no matter when I wake up, my life is going to change for the better.

(A Few Hours Later...)

"ALLY! You're here!" Her happy voice sings my name as she swings open my bedroom door, allowing herself enough space to charge into my room heading straight for my bed. She lands right across my stomach and I grunt, turning over with a tired laugh. "When did you get in? Why didn't you see me?"

"You were sleeping, and I didn't want to wake you," I tease and she ducks her head shyly. But there's no way I can be upset, she's the cutest little girl in the world and she just so happens to also be my sister. I ruffle her hair showing no resentment, giving her a comforting smile. "But I'm happy to see you too, Gia."

She picks her head up with a beautiful smile before leaning in to give me a tight hug. "Oh, Ally! I've missed you so much."

"Me too," I say squeezing her back until she releases me, readying herself to talk. "And jus' look at you! You're gettin' so big."

"Well...I am one of the tallest girls in my year. Even taller than Lauren Nettles and she's almost eight!" She adds excitedly and I smile seeing our frail resemblances. 

"Even so, before I left for school you were-And now your-" I grin noticing how much she's changed. 

Her face isn't as round and babyish as I remembered, it's more angular and sharp to mimic her mother's elvish features. Her pug nose a little less pudgy, but her full mouth is still the same as mine which we both inherited from our father. Her peach-fair complexion the perfect backdrop for a trail of light brown freckles that march across her cheeks beneath her eyes like stars within the sky. Her greyish-green eyes beautifully refracting the natural light within the room.

"You've really grown up," I note, wiping the child-like flyaways of hair from her face. 

"I doubt it. It's like you've always said, no matter what I'll always stay your baby sister," she says shaking her head. "...Who wants to grow up anyway?"

"Are you telling me you don't want too?"

"Maybe someday, but not today," she adds wrinkling her nose. "Besides. If I grew up that means no more-" she pauses looking over her shoulder carefully, cupping her hand to whisper. "...Butterflies."

"Is that what you woke me up for?" I chuckle and she winces before nodding. 

"Come on, Ally! Please?" She begs. "They're so pretty. And the way you make the colors change," she adds wistfully. "...Unless you can't do it because of-"

"As of today, those rules don't apply," I smirk sitting up and unveiling my wand from beneath my pillow. "I'm officially legal. And to celebrate," I say swirling my wand in small quick motions until a fluttering trail of multicolored butterflies encircle us and Gia squeals with delight. "But! You have to keep your voice down," I add hushing her down and she nods, clapping her hands together happily. 

"Oh, Ally, they're beautiful," she says catching a blue one on her finger, and the moment is happy for a few seconds before her mother's shrill call announces her approach. 

"Giovanna-Regine!"

Our faces fall hearing her heels clack down the hall, and I urge Gia to go meet her. "...Coming mother," she answers scooting off my bed trying to cut her off from coming into my room as I make the butterflies disappear, but it's too late to stop her from coming. 

"Gia, honey. What are you-Oh," she rushes before allowing her tone to fall flat with disappointment at he mere sight of me. "It's you."

I take a deep breath preparing to extend an olive branch... "Good Morning, Catherine."

"What are you doing here?"

"Sleeping. In case you haven't noticed, this is my room."

"How long have you been here? Does your father know-"

"He's aware, but I got in pretty late last night and I didn't want to wake anyone-"

"Well, isn't this just wonderful," she snips as if my presence is somehow a personal insult. She motions for Gia to come to her and Gia obeys with reluctance. "Come along, Gia. Today's a very important day for Daddy and we don't want anything else ruining it."

"Would somone mind explaining the problem if I keep out of sight?" I grumble irritated before remembering what day is today. "...It's my freedom day. Nothing is gonna ruin it."

I rub my face with both hands reminding myself not to let her get to me. I've practically endured her all my life and her comments are ridiculously predictable. This is nothing new, in fact this entire bit is a performance. I head over to the bathroom and jump in the shower, taking my time in enjoying it instead of rushing out as quick as I can. Today is my day, and for once I'm going to enjoy it. 

When I get out of the shower, I decide to dress in my favorite clothes. A pair of fitted, black, harem pants that are the softest most comfortable pair of pants that I own. And no matter how many times I wear them, they hug and fit around my legs like they missed me. And then I grab another soft, light, long-sleeved shirt, and the hood plops around my shoulders. The color is burnt copper, and it's always added a bit more color to my skin so I don't seem as pale which is why I like it. And because I feel like it, I change my hair-color so it matches my shirt. I smile wide checking out my appearance, shrugging on a jean-jacket to complete the street-style look. 

I give myself a wink and pack my pockets with my wand and wallet, and anything else I might need throughout the day before straightening up my room with a lazy flick of my wand, and my bed begins making itself while my clothes and furniture repack themselves in my trunk. 

I'm smiling the entire way down the side steps in order to sneak out the servants kitchen, but I hear Catherine's voice reciting her 'Tour-Speech' alerting me to the fact that there are strangers in the house and I begin walking down the main staircase. 

"And if you follow me through here," she smiles prancing through the hallway with a gaggle of reporters. "I'd be happy to show you..." Her voice trails down the hall and around the corner and I creep towards the front door but as soon as I go to open it an impatient man is standing on the other side. He's dressed well and barges in while taking a call from his phone. 

"Your supposed to stay with the group. You lot aren't allowed to roam about the property," he scolds placing his phone-call on hold. 

"My apologies sir, I was just leaving-"

"Wait," he quips. "Show me your press-badge."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't remember your face among the group-"

"Does it really matter, if I'm on my way out?"

"How did you get in?"

"Security isn't exactly the brightest-"

"Ok, what paper are you with and how much to keep your mouth shut about the exclusive."

"I have no idea what you're going on about, Bruhv," I shrug indifferently 

"We've spent a lot of money in regards to Lord Harris' announcement to run for Speaker. Tonight's gala is the apex of his political intentions-"

"Congratulations, but I give you my word that I won't tell a soul. I just want to get out of here-"

"Clarance." My father's voice slices through the room and my heartstrings tighten. "...What's going on?"

"Nothing, Lord Harris. I'm just about to erradicate a problem."

"Problem?" He hedges and I turn around slowly.

"Yes, I caught this spy trying to leave the premises. But not to worry, I'll have the matter sorted immediately."

"I keep telling him that isn't necessary. I'm not going to tell anyone anything, I'm just trying to leave."

"You'd think a reporter could at least come up with a better story-"

"I'm not a reporter."

"Then who are you?" Clarance questions and I look to my dad. 

His eyes darken with shame as his mouth clenches refusing to legitimize me, and I sigh beginning to rack my brain for an explanation. "...I'm his guest."

"Guest?"

"Yeah, I'm in one of those troubled youf' programs and Lord Harris here was kind enough to take me in for a few days. Show me what it's like to have like stability and love'n all tha'" I say dumbing down my speech. 

"Lord Harris is that true?" Clarance asks, but his eyes are practically shining with delight. "Well, why didn't you say anything?! This is political-gold!"

"For the boy's safety, I wanted to respect his privacy," my father adds and I smirk. 

"He's righ', I don' wan' people findin' out about me an' my connections wiv'him," I shrug. "An' I won' stick roun' to mess up what'eva is goin' roun' round'ere so-"

"Nonsense! He simply has to come!"

"What?" My dad snaps. "What for?"

"Lord Harris solidifies himself as a pillar within the community by extending his home to an unfortunate youth," Clarance says as if he's reading a headline within a newspaper. "This stuff writes itself. The public will eat it up and it's sure to boost your poll numbers...Young man, I insist you join us tonight."

"I can't. I've got plans with-"

"Street Urchins? Orphans? Underprivilleged teens?" Clarance asks greedily. "No matter. Bring them. It'll look better for the optics...Do try to dress for the occasion though," he warns before slapping Lord Harris on the shoulder. "Think of what this could mean."

He leaves the space and my father and I engage in a silent stare-off, before I scoff and head for the door. "Alistair."

"What," I spit turning around. "You can relax alright? I'm not going to your stupid gala."

"Thanks to your carelessness, you have no choice. You and whomever you were planning to meet-"

"You don't get to just decide my life. Not anymore. Not today-"

"Being a man is about selflessness-"

"You're the last person to give me a lecture on being selfish."

"I've waited years to have this chance. A chance that was stolen from me-"

"My mother died! You think I wanted to come here!" I bellow unable to stay quiet. "To live unseen all these years, while being made to feel like a mistake ever since I was left on your doorstep?!"

"If you don't show up tonight it'll ruin everything."

"And I'm supposed to care?" I snark. "You won't even acknowledge me as your-"

"Alistair...Please, I can't miss my chance again," he gripes leaving me with the power to crush his dream. "...Son."

The word fills my ears like water but instead of nestling sweetly in my eardrum, it burns. 

Everything feels soured and my optimism shifts to despair, and every step I take feels weighted. Like...I'm dragging myself forward just to keep from collapsing to the ground in anguish. I'm so angry and hurt I feel dizzy, like things are crumbling beneath my feet and I have nothing to grasp onto. I'm so upset I feel like I could burst, and the usual tricks and peptalks I give myself that save me from these kinds of episodes don't seem strong enough to keep me from the inevitable spiral.

Even the trip to meet Gwen doesn't seem to be worth the effort... 

Gwen's POV

(The Leaky Cauldron, London...)

"Don't even think about it, Jack! Or so help me God-"

"Dammit, Gwen!" Jack yelps before grinning as my bludger-themed napkins chomp at his swift fingers guarding my beautifully tiered cupcakes. 

"If you want one you have to wait and I'll grab you one from the kitchen," I huff waving my wand so that the gold and black banners finish draping themselves across the ceiling. "Those," I say as protectively as possible. "Are for Al."

"Everything is for Al," he mocks and I give him a side-eye. "He's not even here yet."

"He's coming."

"When?"

"Some time today," I smile taking a step back to admire my work. 

Alistair made it perfectly clear that he didn't want anything done for his birthday, so I'm throwing him an "extravagant-date" with a Qudditch-Cup theme incorporating all of his favorite things. I'm taking a risk by going against his wishes, but I'm hoping he'll be forgiving once he sees how much detail I've put into making his day special. 

Jack is letting me use one of the dining areas, and we have the space until an hour before the dinner rush so I can help set and prepare. I've cleared away most of the chairs and tables but kept one in the center, giving us plenty of space to dance or stretch out on the floor and look up at the ceiling since I've enchanted it to mimic the sky minus the cloudy weather. I know how much Al likes the sun. And then our table has a marigold table cloth and matching chair covers with giant black bows tied on the back to pay homage to his Hufflepuff house. The food table though is where I really shine because the entire table resembles a Quidditch Pitch with minature broom sticks and balls flying around to either guard the food from everyone but myself and Alistair, or to score points in an entertaining game against itself. I spent the morning making a brunch menu with plenty of options depending on what he was in the mood for...Me, myself? I've got my eye on a short stack of chocolate chip pancakes, but I dare not start until Alistair get's here. 

"Don't you think this is a bit much?"

I wince a little before finishing my music charm on four, life-size paper stallions that prance up and down the room impatient to sing. I got the idea from Alistair's Valentine's Day present to me with the singing birds, but these horses are stylized after his Patronus and are charmed to sing Beethoven's Ode to Joy upon his entrance-

I twist my mouth thinking about how this could backfire...

It's the exact opposite of what he asked for and this could just be another way I'm overstepping his boundaries. 

"Do you think I should stop? I mean, I can," I ask starting to panic. "This didn't take as long as it looks, and another wave and I'll have it back to-"

"FREUDE!" The "Horse" singing the Bass-Baritone part of the song and my eyes buldge knowing what the cue means.

"FREUDE!" The other three "Horses" answer, straightening themselves for Alistair's arrival.

"...! Jack go do something!" I hiss knowing I'm running out of time to get rid of the party.

"What?" He laughs.

"Stall him! He can't come back here! I've got to change over the room!" I panic starting to wave frantically forcing the area to start cleaning itself.

"You spent all morning-"

"That doesn't matter! I've got to get rid of it!"

"You can't be serious."

"Jack, please!!!!" I beg hearing the horses become louder knowing he must be really close.

He jogs out shaking his head with a smile to do as I ask and I begin disenchanting the room. The Horses however, decide to counter my attempts by becoming louder circling around me, trotting and prancing themselves to their music while dodging the desperate flicks of my wand. 

"FINITÉ INCANTATEM!!!" I think as hard as I can as the Soprano-Horse begins joining the Tenor and Bass duet of the choral part. "FINITÉ INCANTATEM!!!"

I curse myself for being so inventive because I can't seem to counter my own spells, and instead of keeping things simple I just had to complicate and overthink it forcing me to work against myself. And I've lost track how many "protective" loopholes I've put in place, which is just magical protocol  for me at this point because of  how many attempts people at school have tried to ruin my school-work demonstrations...

But this wasn't homework. This could've stayed simple. And now it won't stop no matter what I try, which is exactly what the spells were intended to do. To keep going no matter what and only stop after Alistair heard it. 

I don't have to wait long, maybe a few minutes. So I sit in the middle of the floor with my knees tucked to my chin, sitting anxiously and embarrassed waiting for the Horses to stop prancing around me. They dance and trot while performing reminding me of the show-ponies I saw at a circus the times my dad took me, and I nod slightly impressed with how graceful the giant paper creature moves.

The Horses sing together reaching the of the music and cover my face hearing the door burst open and the voices of the Horses multiply and amplify until it sounds as if there is a choir of two-hundred and fifty instead of the four I originally created. 

I take a deep breath and look up to Alistair and he just stands in shock with a lighthearted Jack chuckling by his side in the entryway. For me, the room is utter chaos. The Horses are still praising the heavens with their overwhelming mass of sound, there are minature Quidditch balls flying around the food table, small fireworks are popping off within the room to celebrate Alistair's arrival, and I'm sitting in the middle of it all praying to God he won't be angry...

When it all finally stops he doesn't say anything, and I rise to my feet to face his wrath. "Uh...Happy Birthday?"

He blinks as if startled by my words before the richest, deepest laugh I've ever heard from anyone bubbles up from his stomach eventually bursting through his mouth and I end up smiling as well. His hair changes from a sullen grey to a vibrant pink as he staggers towards me, arms stretched and stumbling from humor until we collide but his hug feels different. Usually he's the one that feels stable, hooking me into an inescapably supported grip that just surrounds you with love and warmth, one of those sterotypical Hufflepuff-Bear-Hugs that the entire house has seemed to master. Not this one. This one feels like he's wounded and emotionally broken, like he's using me to keep him upright and gripping me so desperately tight that he's almost afraid to let me go...

I recognize his hysteria even before it really even hits him, and when he finally surrenders to it in a sobbing fit I hold him tenderly cushioning his fall to the floor. I scrunch my nose at Jack sending him a silent threat if he utters a word of this to anyone, and he nods rushing himself out of the room and he slides the door close. I breathe a little easier at the fact that it's just the two of us, and I brush the now faded pink strands of his hair from his tear-stained cheeks. He's in such pain my heart cracks, and I feel so angry seeing him so upset that I'm already making plans to go after whoever put him in such a state-

"Oh, Gwen. I'm sorry," he sniffles trying to pull himself out of his fit. 

"For what?" I say softly patting away the tears trying to roll out of sight. "If anything I'm sorry for triggering you-"

"It wasn't you."

"Then, name them," I coo sweetly and his body rustles out a chuckle. "...What?"

"You're so ing Slytherin," he sniffles. "You can't just go after someone because they hurt my feelings."

"Yes, I can." The words flow out so effortlessly it causes us both to laugh. "On today of all days," I scold kissing the top of his head currently nestled in my arms. "The best, most important day as far as I'm concerned. But I want to apologize."

"For what?" He snorts. 

"For the room. The party...You didn't ask for it, and I overstepped. And I promise as soon as we get up from this floor, I'll get rid of it all-"

"No," he quips sounding like a small, sad kid and my heart pangs. "You worked so hard."

"This isn't about me! Today is your day! We do whatever it is you want to do. And if you don't want to anything, or celebrate anything we don't have too. And if you want to use today to forget, we can fill it up with so many activities and places to go and see you'll get amnesia!" I offer and he snorts another smile. "We're both legal. We've got wands. We can ing do magic and we've got the Floo Network to our disposal. You just say it, and I'll find a way to make it happen. If you want, we can visit all seven wonders of the world? The Pyramids of Giza? The Cherry-Blossoms of Japan? The Statue of Liberty! You name it. The world is yours, and not just today. Forever..."

He stares at me a long time and my eyes soften recognizing my devotion for him stir and swirl in the pit of my stomach as I fall in love with him all over again. "...Thank you."

"Of course!" I half laugh giving him another squeeze. "So what do you-"

"No...Thank you," he says harder, making it known he's grateful for me in a way he can't express. I kiss his nose before gently nuzzling him and he breathes another chuckle. "...I-uh...need a favor though."

"Anything."

He wrinkles his nose and nods not fully wanting to ask me yet, but he settles in my arms even more and I laugh. "What?"

"Nothing it's just...me," I smile. "I didn't know I could be this..."

"Affectionate?"

"Mushy," I laugh. "Like usually I feel awkward whenever I think of initiating anything-"

"That's because you try to plan it out instead of just acting on instinct," he explains. "Even now, you holding me like this. You're not concentrating on hand placement or our proximity," he adds voicing my previous concerns, settling himself even further into the middle of my chest. "You're thinking about me and what I need. And for you, my needs outweigh your insecurities...Usually you let me hold you like this because you're more comfortable with me taking the lead-"

"Because I legit don't know what to do," I giggle, feeling my nerves attempt to change the comfortable feel of my arms around him to a stiff clumsy hold on an overgrown baby.

His hand reaches around to interlock our fingers physically refusing to let the moment go. "Yes you do. And you've been with me long enough to know that I'll help guide you through what I like, especially if it means deepening our relationship," he presses. "But this," he says giving my fingers a loving squeeze. "Just the fact that you're here without judgement-"

"What is there to judge?" I ask horrified. "Alistair, you have nothing to be ashamed about. If being with you has taught me anything it's that there is nothing weak about allowing yourself to express your emotions. However you feel is valid, and no one has the right to tell you how to work through it...As long as your being safe, that's all that matters."

"You sound just like the Empathy-Group sessions we have back at the Common Room," he smirks.

"Well, I'm only repeating the advice you've given me," I defend starting to smile and he sighs shifting to sit up and my arms slip from around him. He rubs his face dragging his hand down and suddenly noticing one of the Horses pretending to graze the floor not even ten feet away from us. He looks at me curiously and I shrug. "Your Patronus is a Piebald Stallion...Considering the time restraint I didn't have time to give them painted spots-"

"You made life-size paper horses that sing," he says in awe before grinning. "Why Ode to Joy, though?"

"Because the fact that you were born today is reason enough for me to feel joyful," I say quickly before remembering how he probably wants to forget today. ". I did it again. I'm sorry, Al."

"So this whole...thing," he says swirling his finger around to suggest the room. "Was done with me in mind?"

I sigh and nod deciding to explain. "The-Horses were inspired by your Valentine's demonstration and your Patronus. The food, well I wasn't sure of what you'd like so I just made a small buffet," I say trying to downplay it but his eyes flick over to the area and the food is easily stretched to resemble a feast. "But this all is following a Quidditch-House-Cup theme, which is why the gold and black because I still believe in my soul your team was robbed. So if you want, we could count this as a celebration for that," I offer because he isn't saying anything. "...But like I said, I can have this cleared up in no time-"

"Don't you dare touch a thing," he warns protectively. "It's incredible, even without this being all for me so, thank you."

"...I just wanted to do something special. And if I had only had more time-"

"Did you hear what I just said? This is incredible. There's nothing more you could've done no matter how much time you had, that would've made this party more special. It's perfect, and my heart is forever touched that you would go through so much just for me."

"...I really do love you, Al. And I know I don't say it enough-"

"You don't have too," he says steadily rising to his feet before extending his hands to help me to mine, and as soon as I'm standing he ducks down to kiss my cheek. "You're the best you know that, righ'?"

I shrug a little starting to laugh. "Yeah..."

He laughs as well tugging me over to the food table letting me go only to fix himself something to eat. I get my short-stack of pancakes and a few sausage links and some fresh-fruit taking my seat at the table, Alistair joins me with a plate piled high sampling every delacy offered. We eat and enjoy our brunch and with each round of food Alistair's mood becomes happier. 

"I wanted to get you the best broom in the world but a Firebolt Supreme is a bit out of my budget," I joke and he smiles opening the racing-broom kit. "And I know you just bought one but this one has a compass, googles, and-"

"Gwen," he interrupts before giving me a bigger smile. "It's great. Thank you...And there's nothing I'd love more than to take you for a spin around the city, but our evening has already been claimed."

"It has?"

He nods taking a deep breath. "My father has asked me to attend a party he's holding at our house and I need you to come with me."

My eyes narrow at his tone because he sounds so unhappy, hesitant even. A party should be a happy occasion, but the way he's asked me to go with him suggests we're attending a funeral. I'm worried in that sense. Everything he's told me about his home-life hasn't been positive so far, I mean he just told me yesterday that he doesn't legally exist in the muggle world. What kind of family keeps the existence of one of it's members a secret-

"You don't have too-"

I shake my head bringing myself back to our conversation. "That's not it, I was just thinking of what I would wear," I lie steadily and he gives me a doubtful look as I brighten up trying to hide my skepticism. "I'm serious," I grin. "This is probably a formal party, right? I was just going over what's upstairs in my trunk I could modify."

"Or we could go looking today?" He offers with a hopeful wince. "This is short notice for me too, and I don't have anything to wear either."

My mouth clenches hearing how much of an after thought he seems to be. This day should be all about him and the fact that they haven't included him in their plans irks me to no end, until he surprises me with a real laugh. "What?" I ask curiously and he smiles even bigger. 

"Just a good reminder, even though judging from the look on your face it's probably already too late," he answers starting to eat his bacon. "But you asked me not to interfere with your Aunt-"

"Which you lowkeyed ignored, by the way-"

"But I need the same promise from you that you won't come to my defense should this night go wrong."

"AL!"

"Yes," he answers knowingly with a happy smile. 

"You can't possibly expect me too-"

"No, but I am asking you to try. This is a big night for my dad and although I'm not thrilled about having to go," he sighs sounding low again. "I don't want to prove him or anyone else right in thinking I'm going to ruin it."

"Oh, Al," I half wail hearing my suspicions confirmed, and I'm torn between rushing over to console him or taking the fastest fireplace to his Father to give him a piece of my mind. 

"Gwen," he says softly using the full power of his eyes and I practically turn into a puddle at the table. "I don't want you worrying about this. This is nothing new for me, which is why I'm telling you because I don't want you to make a scene on my behalf. And knowing you, you're already thinking of the fastest route to tell him off."

I roll my eyes and snort causing him to chuckle at how he knows me so well. "This is torture. Like what if something happens, I'm just supposed to sit there and take it?" I hedge and he shrugs. I shake my head immediately disputing the notion. "No way. There's no way," I scoff. "You gotta give me something. Some kind of leeway or slack on this verbal-leash."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're dad's a political figure, right? And there are members of your family who know about magic..." I stop, figuring out how I want to word my thoughts. "...I promise not to say or do anything in the presence of muggles or in the immediate public eye, and I won't interject myself in conversations unless asked or provoked. No matter what I hear or see, " I say and he scoffs seemingly unsettled by my offer. "And that's pretty much all I can promise, because if someone makes the mistake of saying or doing anything hurtful, towards you without the protections of my vow," I leer threateningly as he continues to stare at me lovingly. "Heaven help them."

~~~

more is coming.

thank you for reading.

stay safe, much love pce!

<3