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FAITH MORAN.

Faith Moran. Faith Moran.

George Weasley was going to the ball with Faith Moran.

Albany wanted to slap him; she didn't. She also wanted the ground to swallow her whole and free her of the whirlwind of emotions that were storming inside; that didn't happen either. She felt beyond humiliated, and beyond hurt. She'd let her guard down. She'd allowed herself to be vulnerable. She'd left herself wide open to attack, and fallen right into a trap.

Oh, to be so foolish.

A stab to the gut would have been preferred to such a betrayal. That's what it was, wasn't it? A betrayal? To lead her on, give her all the right signs, entice her closer and closer, until she was standing right on the edge of a precipice, closing her eyes and feeling the wind in her hair and the freedom of living at risk, only to be kicked in the back of the knee. To fall. To hit the ground and feel everything shatter, pieces too small and too scattered to gather. To cry out in pain, the agony of it unbearable, but to wonder... is it my fault?

She'd been the one reading the signs, following his lead, letting down her walls and taking the steps towards the edge.

She'd been so happy, and so blind.

They say anger is not a true emotion, but an extension of hurt. It takes the wheel when the going gets so tough that you fall, steering you onwards again and keeping you safe. Anger is what builds the walls again, what protects you from further damage. Angry tears are more bearable than those of sorrow, because the spite in them is a reason to keep moving when everything is shattered.

Anger was what drove Albany Bronwen straight to her dormitory, every muscle in her body tensed, adrenaline pumping and fury overwhelming the hurt and humiliation. Anger told Albany Bronwen to murder Faith.

Whether Faith's absence in the dormitory was fortunate or unfortunate was up for debate. The other three girls, however, sat a little straighter on their beds as Albany raged, eyes a little wider, a little more nervous.

Was she overreacting? She didn't know. She didn't care.

All she knew was that if fury wasn't propelling her onward, she was going to crash and burn. And perhaps she would, eventually. But she would do everything in her power to put such an event off for as long as possible.

So she hunted down Faith. And never found her. Faith Moran could be considered wise for not appearing in their dorm that night.

Or the next. Or the one after that.

Faith didn't show her face for days; she was lucky that classes had come to an end, so avoiding Albany became considerably easier. Meanwhile, Albany's anger had yet to dwindle; it may have calmed from a roaring blaze to a flickering fire, but it persevered, unwilling to burn out.

Perhaps afraid to.

Albany didn't speak to the twins for several days following the reveal. She couldn't stand the idea of seeing George's face; by extension, that meant she wouldn't be seeing Fred's either.

She knew she was being petty. And though a small part of her argued that George was very well allowed to attend the ball with whoever he liked, she didn't listen to it. After all Fred had told her, after all the quiet moments with George... it was a betrayal. And of all the people to betray her with — Faith Moran.

He didn't know about your situation with her, the voice pleaded. Shut up, she told it firmly. He still could have said no.

Merlin was also being avoided. He was incessantly irritating; constantly trying to convince her to talk to George, to find the girl with golden eyes, to stop being bitter and jealous — she didn't want to listen to him either. So she would pretend he wasn't there when he appeared, and swallowed her guilt.

The only person she would speak to was Carly. Carly, who, bless her heart, was the only one who didn't bring up George. Who didn't bring up Albany's anger or jealousy. Instead, Carly taught her French.

"The only French you know is... casse-toi?" the girl had echoed, raising an eyebrow.

Albany shrugged. "It seemed useful that I know it. And it kind of was."

The two were seated in the library, as Albany was sure it was the one place they wouldn't run into the twins. Carly still helped out Madam Pince with books every couple of days, too, and had earned the woman's respect; which in other words meant Pince let the two girls get away with talking a fraction louder than her normal rules allowed.

Carly was tinkering with the Game Boy again as they spoke, having opened up the back of it somehow. She would sort through wires and other odd pieces of Muggle tech with the tip of a pencil, and take notes in her little book of spells, tongue poking out the corner of her mouth as she concentrated. At the same time, she had a library book open to the side titled The Various Forms of Magic, which Albany pointedly ignored. She knew why Carly had it.

"Okay, do you want to start with greetings?" Carly asked, glancing up very briefly from her work.

Albany shrugged. "Sure."

"You should know bonjour," Carly began, and Albany nodded.

"Yeah, I know that one, actually," she said, and tried the word on her tongue. "Bonjour?"

"Do not — er, pronounce the 'n'," Carly instructed, and pulled her wand from somewhere in her hair, pointing it at the Game Boy. "The 'r' is very soft also. It sounds like bow-jeur, not bawn-jower."

"Bonjour," Albany repeated, following the girl's advice. It flowed much smoother this time, and she gave a small smile of triumph.

"Better," Carly noted, though grimaced as a small cloud of smoke rose from her project. "Bonjour is a more formal greeting, though. Most people use salut when speaking with friends or family."

"Salut?"

"Sah-loo," Carly corrected her. She sighed as something sparked in the back of the Game Boy, and set down her wand, pulling over the library book on magic instead.

"Salut," Albany repeated quietly, watching the girl warily. "Are you okay?"

Carly had sat back into her seat, rubbing wearily at her eyes with the heels of her hands. Perhaps Albany was only just now realising how flustered the girl appeared; her curls were a little wilder than usual, her face a little more flushed. When she let her hands fall from her face, there were shadows beneath her eyes, which gazed dully at the work she had lay out for herself on the table.

"I am tired, Albany," she murmured, and Albany could hear her exhaustion in her voice. "I can't do everything by myself. I need your help to help George."

Albany swallowed her guilt, glancing to the side. She knew she wasn't making things easy for anyone; her friends were suffering because of her own issues. Yet the thought of facing George again was a violent tug on her heart, and a flare of anger rose to defend her from it.

"I can't," she said quietly. "I'm sorry."

Carly took a few breaths silently, and stood up out of her chair, gathering her things.

"Carly...?"

The Beauxbatons student shook her head, hurt welling in her eyes. "I forgot... I have to meet Madame Maxime and Professor McGonagall."

Albany frowned in concern. "What for?"

"The... bullying situation," Carly mumbled, so quietly Albany barely heard her. She glanced up sadly, meeting Albany's gaze with a pleading expression. "Albany... please stop being angry. Fred misses you... George misses you."

Albany swallowed, jaw tight. "No he doesn't," she whispered.

Carly shook her head, arms filled with her belongings. "I miss you," she murmured, and left the library, leaving Albany alone with her bitter thoughts.

She let her face fall into her hands, trying to ignore the conflict of her inner emotions tearing her apart. A soft pop echoed behind her and she clenched her fists, more upset than frustrated; she wanted to be alone.

"Go away, Merlin."

"It's not Merlin."

Reluctantly, she set her hands on the table and looked up; Arthur Pendragon moved into view. He didn't look sympathetic, but his usual righteous stance wasn't so overbearing. He leaned down to her eye level where she was seated, expression as serious as it got.

"Albany," he said slowly, enunciating his words slowly and clearly, "pull your head out of your arse."

She shot him a surprised look of indignance. "Excuse me?"

He didn't relent. "You're being stupid. Stop."

Albany got to her feet angrily. "I don't know what you mean," she hissed, though cast her gaze downwards. She hurried to leave the library before Madam Pince arrived to skin her for being loud, and strode down the corridor at a brisk pace as though Arthur wouldn't be able to keep up.

"Yes you do," Arthur argued firmly, keeping up just fine. "You need to talk to George."

"I don't want to," she spat.

"And cutting all your friends off is a good alternative?" Arthur retorted. "I get that you're angry, and upset, and jealous—"

"Yeah, I am!" she shouted, whirling on him and ignoring the looks she received from a few first-years, who promptly ran away. "I am angry. I am upset. I am jealous. Happy?!"

"No!" Arthur shot back. "Because you're still being stupid!"

Albany rolled her eyes viciously and continued stalking down the corridor. She didn't know where she was going, or particularly care — she just wanted Arthur to leave.

"I don't know what's going on between you and George," Arthur began, ("Nothing, anymore," Albany grumbled) "but this is bigger than you, you realise? There are more important issues than a date to the ball?"

Albany grit her teeth in attempt to tune him out. It wasn't working.

"Have you been looking for the golden-eyed girl?" Arthur asked, sighing as though he knew the answer.

"No," Albany hissed. She couldn't justify her reasoning.

"Merlin told you it was important — which it is, far more than whatever you've got against George. So why not?"

"Merlin didn't explain anything to me!" Albany retorted. "Just up and left me to deal with it alone!"

"If you hadn't been ignoring him the past few days, you'd find he's been trying," Arthur argued.

Albany turned on him again, fuming. "So what's going on? What's so important?"

"If you'd pulled your head out of your arse, you could've pieced this together days ago," Arthur sighed, shaking his head. "Think about it — your French friend found unidentifiable magic where George was asked to the ball by a golden-eyed girl."

"So?" Albany snapped. "I don't get it, obviously—"

"How many people with golden eyes do you know?" Arthur argued, folding his arms. "Someone's using old magic, Albany."

Albany faltered, staring at the ghost blankly. "Old magic?" she echoed, eyebrows furrowing. The fire died in her instantly, surprise quenching it like a bucket of water to a candle.

"Merlin's magic," Arthur clarified. "Your magic."

Albany bit her cheek hard, gaze falling downward. "That doesn't make sense," she said quietly. "I don't have any family in the school; how could anyone else be Merlin's descendant...?"

Arthur shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted, cooling his own anger. "But it's not something we can ignore. Especially not if they're using it to harm other students."

Albany swallowed, guilt rising like bile in her throat. "They hurt George," she whispered.

Arthur nodded solemnly. "No doubt they have no qualms about hurting anyone else."

Albany felt as though she had shrunk, suddenly horrified with her own behaviour. She had been stupid, hadn't she? So selfishly wrapped up in her own hurt that she'd been blind to the real harm — that students were in danger. She'd pushed away her friends and ignored her responsibilities; all over George's date to the Yule Ball.

With Faith Moran.

Realisation hit her like a train, horror chilling her to her core. She glanced up at Arthur, eyes wide with fear.

"So you're saying — whoever's using old magic, right? They don't always have golden eyes?"

Merlin didn't have golden eyes. She didn't have golden eyes.

Arthur nodded. "It's the only giveaway that they're using old magic. They don't need incantations or a wand."

Albany felt as though her heart had dived off a cliff. She took a sharp, shuddering inhale, and this time as she connected the dots, she was more certain of the conclusion.

"I need Fred," she decided, biting her cheek anxiously. And George. "I need him to tell me exactly who asked George to the ball."

Arthur didn't look as though he was following completely, but nodded nonetheless.

Albany took a deep breath.

"And I need to find Faith."

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❃ a/n:

these chapters are getting so intense to write akdjsk but at the same time they're finally introducing the drama of the actual main plot that isn't the triwizard tournament or fluffy growing romance hehehe

also i loved the graphic i made instead of a gif for the last chapter but i don't know if i'm going to make them very often ahaha they're very time-consuming! we'll see :)

hope you're all enjoying! your comments and votes and reads mean so much to me, i'm constantly surprised by how far i've gotten with this book (also thank you for 20k reads!) ♡

- A x