Chapter 1
Alec leaned his head against the cool glass of the train window, sighing as the brick walls of Kings Cross Station were replaced by the lush green of the English countryside. He tried to ignore the throbbing pain radiating from his temples, albeit with little success.
The presence of his unabashedly cheerful brother did not make his situation any more bearable. Jace kept sweeping his golden curls out of his face while gravely exaggerating his adventures during the summer holidays. His arm was draped around Clary, his latest girlfriend. This time though, Jace seemed to actually care about the short red-haired girl from Gryffindor.
“Alexander, it is time that you take up more responsibilities. Look at how well Jace is doing, I am sure he is willing to give you some pointers." The echo of his mothers voice didn't really help with his headache.
Isabelle was sitting on Simon's lap, giggling loudly at something her weasel-faced friend – who, like Alec, was in Hufflepuff – had whispered in her hair.
More than anything, Alec wanted his siblings to be happy, but right now he needed a little space. He was no stranger to feeling like the fifth wheel on the wagon, but that didn't mean he had to like it.
“I'm going to change.” Alec mumbled slightly irritated and rose, his long legs getting tangled in the process. Seizing his neatly pressed uniform, he quickly disappeared from the compartment. He wasn't even sure if his siblings had noticed his disappearance.
In the narrow corridor, Alec was met with the chatter of countless students, loudly discussing Quidditch and their summer holidays. He squeezed past the oncoming snack cart, pushed by a stout witch. He almost felt guilty for not taking her up on her offer of chocolate frogs at half price. She gave him a kind smile and continued on her way. Even if he had wanted to, he could not have bought anything, as his money was safely stowed in his suitcase.
Slightly relieved to have escaped the commotion outside, Alec slid through the unassuming door, engraved with the golden letters ‘Toilet’.
As soon as Alec set foot in the pale green room, it was illuminated by a dim light. His mouth curled upwards as none of the three stalls seemed to be occupied at the moment. One time, he had stumbled into a couple in the middle of a rather heated make-out session that was not at all suited for a public restroom. He quickly retreated into one of the stalls and locked the door behind him. With military precision, he began to peel out of his black turtleneck sweater followed by trousers of the same colour.
Alec's gaze fell on the white bandage wrapped around his left palm, held in place by an adhesive plaster.
His long, slender fingers ran over the rough fabric. He winced slightly as the familiar ache rippled through his body. After a few seconds, the pain retreated, leaving behind a dull throbbing that he had grown accustomed to over the last few days. No one but himself and Robert Lightwood, knew the true cause of his injury. During his fathers latest outburst, Alec had instinctively jerked back, colliding with a nearby display case. Shards of glass had dug into his back, arms and hands.
“Can't you watch where you're going? This was one of your mothers heirlooms!”
Lying on the cold hardwood floor, surrounded by shattered glass, he had felt more helpless than ever before. Of course, it had been easy to heal the cuts with magic, leaving only faint silvery scars on his pale skin. But his father had left the cut on his palm untreated. As a reminder of his weakness, he would let Alec heal like a muggle.
“You are a Lightwood. We break noses and accept the consequences. Take your punishment and learn from your mistakes.”
The mere thought of this shameful incident made his cheeks burn. Trying to distract himself, Alec started to swiftly change into his uniform. First came the dark trousers and the broad belt, then the carefully pressed white shirt, which strained a little over his broad shoulders. To properly bind the yellow and black striped tie, he needed a mirror, so he unlocked the cabin door. Alec still remembered how much he had hated his Hufflepuff uniform in the beginning. Nor would he forget the letter from his parents that he had received after the sorting. Their disappointment was deeply etched into his memory.
“Use the Christmas break to think about what you have done.”
It had been the loneliest Christmas he ever had to experience. Hiding on the astronomy tower he had watched the snowflakes dance in the cool night air. By now Alec had overcome his feeling of inadequacy and was proud of his house. He took pride in what he was now, because he didn't have to be clever, brave or particularly cunning like his siblings. Alec had made it his mission to protect them, to support them and to always stand by their side, no matter what. That had to be enough.
Somewhat embarrassed, he realised that he had been staring into space for a couple of minutes and opened the door. Typical. Only then he realised that there was someone else in the washroom. Well, not just anyone. None other than Magnus Bane, bent over the ceramic washbasin, drawing an elegant black line on his eyelids. Alec had forgotten what the pencil was called, no matter how many times Izzy had tried to explain it to him.
Alec gulped. He was pretty sure, it was forbidden to look this good in a simple shirt and trousers. The fabric hugged his lean body, clinging to him like a second skin. The Slythrin played in a completely different league with his charming smile and perfectly styled, glittery hair. His tan skin looked positively radiant, even in the dingy bathroom light. Feeling slightly anxious, Alec ran his fingers through his tousled black waves, a few of which were sticking up from his head as usual.
Though Alec had the reputation of a secluded hermit that knew nothing about school gossip, even he could not escape the rumors about Magnus Bane. Camille Belcourt, his now ex-girlfriend, had poured a whole jug of pumpkin juice over his head and started berating him for being a cheater during breakfast in the Great Hall. Alec wasn't sure how much of this was actually true, so it was probably best to keep an open mind.
Feeling a little uneasy, he went over to the sink and stood next to Magnus, fumbling with his tie. His fingers kept sliding off, afraid to risk aggravating his injury. Magnus shot him a curious glance, and Alec's face immediately turned bright red. Regardless of what anyone might say about him, Bane was drop-dead gorgeous. Straight nose, full lips, long eyelashes and deep, brown eyes you could easily drown in. According to his sister, Magnus was the ultimate playboy, not someone you should surround yourself with if you wanted to stay out of trouble.
“Do I have something on my face, pretty boy? Or why are you staring at me like that?” Magnus asked in a conversational tone. Alec wished the floor would swallow him whole. His gaze immediately snapped to the polished bronze tap, which suddenly seemed particularly interesting to him.
“Cat got your tongue, Darling?“ Magnus chuckled and turned around with a sigh. ”I can't watch this any longer. Come here.”, the Slytherin demanded and turned toward Alec. He leaned forward a little and effortlessly executed a perfect windsor-knot. Magnus was so close that Alec caught a whiff of his sandalwood shampoo. Stay calm, Alec.
“Thank you,” Alec whispered, his fingertips lingering over the spot where Magnus had touched him.
‘’So he can talk after all,‘’ Magnus remarked, a sarcastic edge in his tone. ‘’Since we haven't been formally introduced: I'm Magnus Bane. And what might your name be, sweetheart?‘’
“l-Alec. Alec Lightwood,” the Hufflepuff stammered, wishing he could strangle himself for his insecurity. He couldn't even manage to form a full sentence without making a complete fool of himself. Magnus' expression fell as soon as he heard his last name. He frowned and pursed his lips, eying Alec with clear mistrust. It was common knowledge that his parents held controversial views on Muggles and Muggle-borns and they never hesitated to voice their opinions.
Alec braced himself, because he knew what was about to come. After all, this was not the first hostile reaction to his parentage. This time, however, it seemed like an even greater loss than usual.
“Didn't your mommy and daddy teach you how to dress yourself? Oh yes, I forgot, your house-elf slave probably always handled that for you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to feed my cat,” Magnus snapped, and disappeared from the bathroom in a hurry. A strange sense of dread lingered in the air.
Alec closed his eyelids briefly, opening them again to study his face in the tarnished mirror. A young man with dishevelled black hair and wide hazel eyes stared back at him from the depths of the silvery surface. “Will I ever be good enough?” he asked into the stillness of the room.
His reflection remained silent.
*****
As soon as Alec set foot onto the narrow stone platform, thick raindrops began to pelt down from the slate-coloured sky. As he inhaled, he picked up the distinctive scent of petrichor. The sleepy wizarding village of Hogsmead was barely visible amidst the heavy downpour.
Alec liked this place, especially around Christmas time, when it was all decked out in festive decorations and sparkling icicles glistened on the eaves. Right now, however, he wasn't thinking about the Three Broomssticks, the Honey Pot, or the tiny stationary shop. Instead, he quickly pulled his black hood over his head and hurried to join his sibiblings and other scurrying students, making his way to a waiting carriage pulled by long-limbed thestrals. His eyes lingered on the bony, leathery wings that clung to the skeletal bodies of the creatures. As always, he was the only one to notice them.
“Damn it. I'm soaked to the bone,” Jace complained, plopping down on one of the soft leather seats with a sour expression. A small puddle began to form under him, causing every one of his movements to emit a squelching sound.
Alec noted that his tie was crooked and his shirt was a mess, but somehow his brother managed to look charismatic and relaxed despite of it. Jace had always been the golden boy of the family: Gryffindor, Quidditch captain since his fourth year and not, like Alec, only in his sixth. In short, he was the perfect son in every way. Alec had felt a slight twinge of jealousy in his darker moments, followed immediately by a burning sense of guilt. He would never allow himself to have such feelings. Especially not when he had only himself to blame for his unhappiness.
Simon shook his dark brown curls and used his sleeve to wipe the water drops off his round glasses. For a moment, he reminded Alec of a Labradoodle that had been thrown into a pond. “Have I already told you about this hilarious accident that happened to me during the holidays? No? Well, anyway…”
With that, Alec simply zoned out and ignored the unpleasant sounds coming from Isabell's sidekick. He actually had a soft spot for Simon, not that he would ever admit it, but his protective instincts were especially strong when it came to his sister.
Alec chuckled and retrieved his wand from his tan leather bag. A sense of familiarity and comfort settled over him as he felt the cool cedar wood respond to his presence. With a flick of his wrist, the tip of his wand ignited and a soft blue fire flickered in the palm of his hand. It wasn't much, and yet everyone huddled against the pleasant warmth.
During thier ride to the castle, Alec remained silent as usual. He had nothing interesting to say anyway, so he was better off holding his tongue. Listening with one ear to the excited chatter of his siblings, he tuned into the soothing murmur of the rain with the other. He watched the dark green trees flash by outside the window, merging into a haze of muted colors.
As soon as the imposing walls of the castle rose up in front of him, Alec was overcome with a mixture of excitement and nostalgia. Hogwarts had always felt more like home to him than the huge country estate that had been in the Lightwood family for centuries.
Upon arrival, their group joined the crowd of students making their way through the massive entrance portal into the Great Hall, dividing to find a seat at one of the four tables. To Alec, the constant drone of voices resemeld a bustling beehive. Tilting his head back, he watched the grey storm clouds drift across the enchanted ceiling, a perfect replica of the sky outside.
With a small smile, better described as a slight twitch of his lips, Alec said his goodbyes to Jace, Clary and Isabelle and made his way to the Hufflepuff table. Simon slid in next to him and launched into one of his dreary anecdotes about glowing magic swords, the thread of which Alec had lost after two seconds of listening. Not that he had tried to follow it with much enthusiasm.
Alec found himself stealing a glance toward the Slytherin table. Unfortunately, he make out the glittering mop of hair from the corner of his eye. Displeased with the small wave of disappointment he felt, he quickly lowered his head and stared at the spotless plate in front of him.
Suddenly, he felt someone settling down next to him. A wide grin spread across Underhills face immediately. Blond ringlets framed his round face and made his blue-grey eyes appear even brighter. Sometimes he reminded Alec of an angel or perhaps more of a Golden Retriever. It was disturbing how often his brain drew parallels to dogs lately.
“How was the holidays, Lightwood?” Underhill asked, ever the optimist. Definitely a Golden Retriever. Alec would never admit it, but he was tempted to throw a fork to see what would happened.
“The usual,” Alec muttered, and didn't even have to force himself to smile back. He ran his fingers through his dark waves and propped his elbow on the glossy tabletop. On his first day, he had met Underhill who befriended him immediately, a rare occurrence for Alec. “I trust you've been keeping up with your training over the break. Our team hasn't got a chance this season without our best man.” he added with a grin and patted Andrew on the shoulder.
The other boy did a mock salute and winked. “Aye, aye captain. I've got everything under control. Just because we're in Hufflepuff doesn't mean we can't kick some ass.” he replied and turned towards the professors' table, as the first years, having seemingly just finished crossing the lake, entered the hall. The Hufflepuff still remembered how scared and disappointed he had been when the Sorting Hat had sent him to the house his parents looked down on and considered a disgrace.
“No bad words in front of the children. We wouldn't want them to take after you,” Alexander whispered to his friend with a wry smirk on his lips. “Let the games begin,” he mumbled shortly before the tattered old hat began to sing the song it had composed to mark the occasion, per usual. Alec had to supress a snort when it rhymed Slytherin with slithering. This was truly poetic genuis.
Professor Carstairs, a young teacher dressed in a dark blue cloak embroidered with tiny silver stars, stepped forward. A few strands of wispy white hair clung to his forehead, making him look a little dishevelled. In his hands, he held a thick scroll of parchment, completely coveredin neat handwriting. “Catherine Ashdown.” he called, in a commanding voice, bouncing off the smooth stone walls. Alec craned his neck, watching as the first of the new students climbed the steps to be sorted into a house.
“Gryffindor!”
“Gryffindor!”
“Ravenclaw!”
“Slytherin!”
“Hufflepuff!”
“Ravenclaw!”
The deafening applause roared in Alec's ears and he tried to block out the overwhelming noise. From his position, he could make out the headmaster, Professor Fell, clad in dark green robes, surveying the scene with obvious amusement. A shiver ran down his spine as he spotted Professor Morgenstern among the teachers. He taught potions and never missed an opportunity to humiliate Alec. When he caught the Professors gaze, his cold black eyes seemed drill into his very soul. Alec looked away quickly and the crushing feeling disappeared.
Once a few timid first-years had joined the Hufflepuff table, and the annual opening speech had been delivered, Professor Fell clapped his hands, signalling the start of the feast. As if by magic – well, that was to be expected – the tables were laden with all manner of culinary delights: bowls of roast vegetables, pies with every conceivable filling, juicy roasts, jugs of chilled pumpkin juice, pots filled with thick, brown gravy, fresh salads, small sausages, sandwiches and much, much more. From time to time, Alec wondered how the tables could support the weight of all that food without collapsing. He assumed they were magically reinforced.
From the excited squeaking next to him, Alec gathered that Simon had discovered some chicken drumsticks. His obsession with them bordered on concerning.
Unfortunately, Alexander didn't have much of an appetite, as the swirling dark thoughts weighed heavily on his stomach. With surgical precision, he began to cut the crusts off his toast and passed them on to Andrew, who took them with glee. He washed down the plain white bread with some pumpkin juice and put his cutlery down on the plate, still covered in crumbs.
“Are sure you don't want any seconds, Alec?” Simon asked with his mouth full, so it sounded more like, “Ashureudonwansecon? We didn't even get to the best part yet.”
As if the house-elves read Simon's mind, dessert appeared. Right in front of Alec, a bowl of trifle, a typical english pudding made of custard, jam, biscuit and whipped cream, arrived. Alongside it, bowls of plump, red strawberries, as well as an etagere overflowing with chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts materialized.
In his distraction, Alec felt something brush against his cheek. He reflexively reached over his shoulder and felt a piece of rough paper between his fingertips. His hazel eyes widened as he spotted a tiny, creamy-white butterfly on the palm of his hand. The paper unfolded to reveal a note written in elegant handwriting. Arcs of flowing lines joined together to form words that Alec's mind could hardly comprehend. They made his heart want to leap out of his chest.
Meet me in the Astronomy Tower at midnight.
M.B