I Want It Back

The day was too damn hot and Alice wasn’t afraid to say it. The black tarmac platform in front of her was hot enough to cook eggs on and already, at almost 10 o’clock in the morning, she was sweating like a pig.

Or glowing like a lady, as her mum would say.

She’d left two hours ago, after dropping Alice off. Work started at nine – Mum’d be late. Alice blew a curl off her forehead in the heat, frowning up at the sun like it had grown a hand, five fingers, and flipped her off. What a brilliant start to the day.

The platform was slowly filling with students. Children hung off their parents arms, decked in vibrant robes and decorated hats. In her clearly muggle skirt, she stood adrift in the crowd, leaning on one foot by the brick wall which enclosed this side of the platform.

The shadowed brick provided barely any relief, only barely cooling Alice’s back down. On the other side, a teeming horde of muggles to match the crowd in front of her would be rushing up and down the platform, yelling out goodbyes and hellos and welcomes.

She could imagine the scene playing out on the other platform: the miniskirts and suitcases and tie-dye rebels; the business men and families and children.

She could almost pretend, if she closed her eyes, that she was there.

Only almost.

“Oh, Alice!”

Her brother, Florean, waved at her from where he had just entered with their father. He was taller than her, two years older, and absolutely insufferable.

She loved him.

He smiled jauntily, decked out in bright orange robes and lugging an embossed leather trunk. In preparation for leaving Hogwarts at the end of the year, he’d spent pretty much all of the summer at their dad’s, working at the shop and playing around with flavours.

Their father, Larkin, trailed behind them, smiling timidly. He was a sweet man, Alice knew, who all the children at Diagon Alley seemed to love, but he’d never managed to shake the scared crinkle between his eyes that appeared whenever he spoke to her, the daughter he barely knew.

The applegreen of his robes assaulted her eyes, already strained from the wixen around her.

“Alice, love, how have you been?”

She wanted to scream. She wanted to smile. She wanted to hug him.

“Good,” she stretched, “everything’s been good.”

Florean grinned, rocking back and forwards on his feet.

“Heard you made prefect.”

She grinned back, tightly. He hadn’t been there when the owl had come with her OWL results and prefect badge. Her mum had almost wept at the marks, and when she’d told her friends – with some facts altered – they’d pulled out Annie’s vodka to celebrate. It had been a good day, laughing with her friends on the dried brown grass of the common.

It wasn’t his fault he wasn’t there, though. It wasn’t anybody’s.

“Yeah, it should be fun.” She poked up the corners of her mouth a bit more.

His eyes twinkled.

“I wouldn’t bet on that – I wouldn’t want to be in your position at all. Might be easier than our lot had it, being in Hufflepuff and all, but it seems like a lot of responsibility.”

Alice snorted, crinkling her eyes up at her brother.

“When’s a Puff ever shied away from responsibility –”

“Oh, I don’t know, probably half the sheeple in your year?”

“ – and besides, Frank got the other position. It’ll be a doozy.”

They weren’t talking about the … thing … they’d had anymore, Frank and her. It sat in the middle of their letters and they spoke around it like a hole in the middle of a road. But they were still friends, and he’d been one of the first people she’d written to in the flat, leaning half out the window to get to the owl.

Florean didn’t know about all of that though. He winked at her, and smirked.

“Frank, eh?” He puffed out his chest. “Seems like I never got ‘round to fulfilling my brotherly duties – ow!”

She rolled her eyes, laughing at his exaggerated wince.

“Florean, it isn’t like that anymore. We broke up after exams.”

He frowned, stilling.

“After exams?”

Alice raised her eyebrows, pointedly.

“Better than before.”

Florean looked away. What had gone on between him and Amelie during his Fifth Year had hardly been a secret. The love life of Gryffindors was always the number one piece of gossip in school, partly because none of them shut up about it.

It had been pretty bad though. Alice had almost been embarrassed to call him her brother.

Silence fell between them before she offered up an olive branch.

“Excited for Seventh Year though?”

He looked at her, pausing before answering.

Florean often seemed like the typical Gryffindor – brash, bold, blustering – but he’d always been good at reading people. It wasn’t like Alice couldn’t – she did. But that was expected of her. For Florean, the reckless emotional illiteracy that seemed to characterise most of his year was absent.

Most people found that surprising. Most girls in his year found it hot.

Alice found it annoying.

Sometimes she wondered if the Hat had ever considered Hufflepuff for him. Then she realised she was falling into the old House stereotype trap. They’d both made their choices, years ago, sitting under the brown weathered Hat that moulded futures and shaped lives.

She’d chosen Hufflepuff, not Gryffindor. He hadn’t.

And it was the best of both worlds. Alice always knew what Gryffindor was like, was friends with half her year in that House and half of his. She could go back to Hufflepuff having seen people make the most stupid decisions alive and sit down with her friends, and chat and smoke and relax in peace.

She smiled.

Whatever the distance that had grown between them as the years went by, she loved her brother. She loved Hogwarts.

This would be her final year with both, and she would treasure it.

“Alice?” Larkin asked softly.

Alice blinked. Him and Florean stared at her, expectantly.

“Sorry, zoned out, what did you say?”

She could see Florean biting back words, a confused wrinkle marring his smooth forehead.

“Zoned out?”

“Wasn’t concentrating.”

Florean’s face cleared. Alice couldn’t resist.

“God, it must have been boring what you were saying.”

“Boring? Boring? Alice, the final year of my secondary school career and the last vestige of my childhood is not boring? Wha–”

Alice yawned.

Larkin smiled as he watched Florean sputtering at his sister.

“Both of you will want to get on the train now. The whistle will blow any minute, and you’ll want to get good seats.”

Florean picked up his trunk with an easy shrug, briefly hugging their dad with one arm.

“See you, Dad. I’ll write to you soon!”

Alice watched him leave, Larkin’s eyes on her.

“Take care of yourself, Alice. I’ve asked your mum if you could spend some of the Yule holidays with us this year. Think it over.”

Alice nodded. She might.

“Ok, don’t worry.”

They paused there, lingering for a second. They were angled towards each other and Larkin’s arms were shifted into a position that could almost be preparing for a hug.

“Alice –”

The whistle shrieked between them like a knife through fabric.

“Got to go, Dad!” She scrabbled for her trunk and backpack, grabbing everything into her arms. “I’ll see you at some point, ok?”

The crowd was emptying on the platform, still swirling around, as streams of students flooded through the train doors.

Looking behind over her shoulder, briefly, Alice could see her father standing there, hands tucked behind his back.

Something twinged inside, her gut pulling itself around and twisting.

A group of Second Years rushing behind obscured him.

And then he was gone.

***

“Alice, you won’t guess what we heard over the summer–”

“No, seriously, you won’t–”

“Literally everyone’s been talking about it but we didn’t know if you–”

“Alice, was that your brother just going past? It’s going to be so sad when he’s –”

“Oh yeah, he’d better give me free ice cream though!”

“Guys, guys – has anyone done Slughorn’s essay?”

“Fuck, Felicia, you’re sitting on my books –”

“No, Constance, I don’t care what your mother says, we’re fine –”

“Sorry, sorry, Em –”

“Seriously though, have you heard?”

Alice stood at the entrance to her usual compartment, smiling at her friends basking in the sun. Her usual Hufflepuff crew had been joined by the Gryffindors, whilst both the Ravenclaw’s and guys had run off somewhere else.

She’d have to go find them at some point. Emmeline and Caradoc would probably be at the prefect meeting, and she could find Frank afterwards.

In the compartment, trunks had been shoved on the racks haphazardly; books and scrolls were scattered across the table. In the ten minutes since they’d gotten on the train, it had turned to a veritable mess. She flopped down next to Fawley, dropping her shoulder bag to the floor.

“Heard what?”

Kerry turned to look at her, a mixture of excitement and anticipation apparent on her face.

“Andromeda Black ran away.”

Emily Akehurst chimed in, eagerly.

“She was meant to marry that Slytherin, Selwyn, but she went missing over the summer.” Emily leant forward. “Apparently, she eloped with a muggleborn. Can you believe it?”

Kerry had a gory look of fascination on her face.

“Just think of it. One of the Black daughters, shacking up with a muggleborn. Her parents must be so proud.”

Alice frowned, brushing her sweaty hair back across her head. She didn’t like Emily much, and her attitude right now not at all. Kerry though? She hadn’t expected that from her.

“What’s so wrong with her dating a muggleborn? Guys, it wasn’t exactly a secret they were together.”

“What?” Emily looked confused.

Constance looked up from where she’d been chatting worriedly with Felicia. They were two of the other Hufflepuff girls in the compartment. Alice frowned. Maybe the Hufflepuffs were the only ones who had known.

Constance stared at Emily funny.

“Yeah, it was obvious. Tonks was like, sneaking out to the Slytherin dorms all the way back in Fifth Year.”

“Yeah.” Felicia looked reflective. “I didn’t think she’d actually marry him though.”

She stared up at the racks above Constance’s head.

“I mean, it’s a big step. Dating a muggleborn and then actually marrying one.”

She looked at Esme and Constance quickly.

“Not that there’s any problem with muggleborns, of course. It’s just shocking.”

Constance gave her a weak smile back.

Silence filled the compartment. The loud roar of the train thrummed violently at the back of Alice’s mind as she sat there, with the friends she’d had since she arrived at Hogwarts. It seemed like a long time ago now, all that.

Constance breathed in nervously.

“On that note,” she looked around, “has everyone read the Prophet recently?”

Nobody looked at each other.

Alice sighed.

“Yeah. I don’t live under a rock, you know.” She slumped further down on her seat. The glow from seeing them all again was fading quickly and she almost couldn’t be arsed to try and claw it back.

Constance looked worried.

“We’ve officially been at war for a year now. And it isn’t over.” Her eyes were wide and accusing and her fists were clenched beneath the table. “They’re breeding baby fascists in the snake pit. I’m scared.”

She stared at her friends.

Felicia looked awkward, Kerry looked righteous, and Emily looked like someone had mentioned bowel problems at dinner. Patricia looked up from where she’d been copying Esme’s homework, and Esme stopped smiling.

It wasn’t really a done thing, Alice reflected grimly, to mention that sort of thing.

Constance paused, taking in the faces of those around her. Her mum was a muggle, Alice knew. Esme was the only muggleborn in the compartment, and Alice barely counted. She might technically be a half-blood, but her surname was respectably wixen.

Emily flipped her hair over one shoulder, pursing her lips in a painful smile.

“Well, it’s not going to affect us in Hogwarts now.”

Alice wondered whether it already had.

“Those Slytherins are just children,” Emily continued, “and it’ll stop soon.”

Constance stared at her.

Emily wasn’t cruel. She was sheltered. She had conservative parents. She treated everything that even toed the line of normal with a perverse, critical interest. She wasn’t unkind.

Most would describe her as sweet, friendly, considerate, interesting.

Most were purebloods.

Alice looked at Esme, sitting sandwiched between Felicia and Emily, spine stiff.

She wasn’t really looking forward to this year anymore.

***

“Oi, Vance!”

Outside the prefect compartment, the Ravenclaw girl stood leaning against the wall, chatting to her counterpart Caradoc.

Alice waved, grinning madly as she approached. It had been good to leave the compartment when the prefect meeting came up, out of the stuffy heat and tense conversation. Three hours of hell until she could excuse herself.

Constance’s words had lingered. She was brave for that. But Alice couldn’t bring herself to think about it – not the growing violence in the Prophet or tension among her friends. Not now.

“Alice.” Emmeline nodded, standing up straighter as the shorter girl grew near. Tall and stern, Emmeline was one of Alice’s closest friends outside of Hufflepuff, and one of her most level headed. “How’s it going?”

Warmth suffused the Ravenclaw’s voice as she smiled at Alice.

Alice relaxed into the wall next to Emmeline. Caradoc was smoking out of the window, haired tousled wildly by the wind.

She looked at Caradoc. She looked at Emmeline.

They smirked at each other as Vance’s hand came up to her wand.

“VANCE–”

The girls broke into peals of laughter as Caradoc brought his head back into the corridor, smoke around his face and reeking of nicotine.

He glared at them as he hastily tried to wipe the soot off his face with his arm.

“Alice, this is because of you.”

Alice raised her eyebrows and widened her eyes into a picture of innocence.

“But Caradoc! I didn’t have anything to do with your cigarette? Are you sure Guin didn’t swap out your pack for a Zonko’s one?” She pursed her lips, sadly. “I hear they have an exploding pack out…”

He scowled at her, muttering under his breath. The soot was still there.

When Alice had first started Hogwarts, she had gone through a phase of longing to be in Ravenclaw. Her mum hadn’t told her much about the House system, and her conversations with Larkin had never been long, so she’d pretty much just wanted it based off liking books. She’d quickly grown to adore Hufflepuff though. And the Ravenclaws in her year.

Of them, Caradoc was one of her favourites.

His vocabulary was definitely part of why.

“Might want to wash your mouth out along with your face.” Emmeline snickered. “I can help you with that –”

“Don’t –”

“Vance!”

Lucinda Dattin, head girl, stood behind them.

Alice frantically straightened up from where she’d been leaning against the wall laughing, and wiped the grin off her face contritely. Emmeline switched immediately to a steadfast gaze, just staring calmly at the older Hufflepuff.

Caradoc still stood there, shamefaced, smelling of nicotine with a mixture of soap and soot emblazoned across his cheeks.

Dattin wasn’t impressed.

“May I just remind you all –” she frowned, “that you are all now prefects who are meant to set a good example for the younger years and maintain order?”

Caradoc nodded his head, trying to covertly rub the disaster away.

“Yes, of course Dattin –”

“And –” she continued sternly, “that smoking is not allowed on the train or at Hogwarts at any point.”

All three of the Fifth Years stood there awkwardly, Vance less than the others. Alice felt guilty.

“We’re sorry, Dattin..” They muttered, staring down.

“Since I don’t see any cigarettes, I’ll let this pass as a prank. The prefect meeting is going to start now. Clean up and come in.”

The shiny brown door to the prefect compartment was now clearly open, and Alice could see the other prefects sitting inside, chatting to each other as they waited for the meeting to begin. The landscape rushed past outside and Alice straightened, folding two curly strands of her out of her face.

She was a prefect now. She was here now. Constance wouldn’t have to worry and Emily could be right. Alice could change things.

A sheet of shiny white blonde hair shimmered in the room.

Alice walked in.