Shortly after the end of Ancient Runes

With the age-line construction spell...thing...finally released and the chalk line wiped away, Alvis could breathe a sigh of relief. That had easily been the strangest Runes class he'd ever been put through. He stepped out of the room's center, first tip-toeing around the remnants of the ring, then hurrying to the wall to retrieve his notebook, before finally turning to search the departing class for their unexpected guest. Once he'd picked out the familiar face, he grinned and hurried over.

"Hi Casey! I wasn't expecting to see you here. Are you thinking of taking up Ancient Runes?" Though he still held his notebook in its usual shield-like position, he felt much more relaxed than before he'd volunteered for the center position. Part of it was the sheer exhilaration of a job well done, while the rest came from, as odd as it sounded, Casey himself. Alvis liked to think that he and Slytherin boy were something like friend. They had been exchanging letters for most of the summer, after all.

"You really should consider taking it up you know, it's fascinating. And you said yourself it can be useful. Plus, you saw that ring. I didn't even have a rune, and it picked me straight off the ground." He laughed. "It was one hell of a class, huh?"

"Hmmm, can't say that was my first intention," Casey mused. Runes had surprised him on more than one occasion. "I don't think Reid appreciates late starts." Now visiting professor Maras...her methods of runes interested him a bit more. If there was a seminar about foreign runes (or any seminar headed by a Durmstrang professor) Casey would actually attend. To the point, Maras was quick to demonstrate real world application and perfection. Most of the typical Runes class, as Casey had gathered, focused on all the dead languages and aspects unused to this day. What a waste of time.

"Yes, the class was very stimulating." Casey was toying with another notion. Age lines, when anchored with runes like that where much more therough when restricting people of a certain young age, resistant to tricks such as Aging Potion. If the Runes provided that much work to the system, could you ever reverse...?

"Come, let us talk." Casey ducked into an alcove beyond the place where the House Points were stored, waiting for the rest of the class to disperse. Given the covert thoughts of his ideas with Alvis, Casey was waiting for a certain level of privacy before divulging his new inkling.

"How was Egypt? Did Foley or Miss Ward do anything stupid?" he smirked.

Alvis followed Casey into the alcove, and it was only after they'd gotten settled that he realized how off it was that he could do so easily. If any other Ravenclaw had broken from the group, they'd be followed by inquires of their departure or promises to meet up during dinner or study breaks. But his housemates barely seemed to notice that Alvis had gone.

"Ah...Egypt was fascinating. We got to see a lot. The Temple of the Muses was especially interesting. At least, I thought so." He tapped the side of his nose, trying to connect the names of Casey's inquiry to faces. Foley and Ward made him nervous -- to be fair, all Slytherin girls made him nervous -- and it took conjuring up Professor Reid's stressed-red face to come up with anything.

"Well, they did wander off at one point. Something about exploring the Temple of Karnak. Got caught in a trap, apparently. Professor Reid was furious. Though to be fair, they got out, and they didn't have to spend two days in bed afterwards. Which is more than I can say for me." His head gave a painful twinge, as though recalling its own injury. He rubbed it and shrugged. "Anyway, how did your summer go?"

It sounded like everyone had been going places they should not have on the trip. Casey considered Foley was the center of most of these escapades, the driving force. He wondered briefly if he would have been steadfastly breaking itinerary if he had gone. But then, he first needed a reason to go to Egypt, the trip hadn't interested him.

Casey slowed his reaction to Norling's reversed query. Of course he would ask, the question only natural. There was lots Casey was reluctant or adamant not to say. Such as failing to produce a patronus when trying to outshine Ventus Shang, or getting his mother recovered at St. Mungo's, that day the hospital was attacked, and having her moved to the village. He had yet to see her although Dingy reported she had settled fine. With the obvious tell of clutching his pot, there was something off about that. But most of all, Casey was NOT going to tell of what lengths he had gone to undercover in an attempt to find dirt on Shang.

And the dreams...

Ever since the night at the Steampunk club, Casey had variations of a bizarre dream. Infrequent enough that weeks could pass, just when the thoughts had left Casey's mind and then the dream would manifest again. The events were similar. Within the haze of images that came with sleep, the 'normal' dreams, there would be a moment of startling clarity where Casey felt awake. Only something was different, yet it had always been this way, something missing. Like the morning Casey had woken up without the amulet. And there was pain of something lost, a hollowness. The sensation that Casey had been inflicted an injury, a gaping wound, yet in searching every part of his body Casey could never find where the wound was. It was like the phenomena of the amputee 'feeling' the lost limb, only Casey was seemingly whole yet empty. During these dreams Casey could not remember what he looked like even as the dreaming eye scrutinized every inch of the body. Upon waking Casey would feel vaguely uneasy. He would check his equipment, his room, occasionally call for Dingy, anchors to ensure he had not been transported to an alternate reality.

Casey shook his head, shrugging off these feelings as he again focused on business. "I did get around to testing your idea with a defensive cartouche. It responded well to close to real world settings." Actual real world settings, from the St. Mungo's attack. "Dingy and I constructed a shield to defend against spells. It was able to withstand five hexes and two lethal curses before being completely dysfunctional. The shield would absorb the spells instead of truly negating or deflecting them, if that makes sense. I can show it to you if you like."

While Casey was decidedly invested in this one element of Runes, the battle capabilities stimulating his imagination, there was something off. Whether it was his eyes fixed elsewhere with a slight glaze or his monotone voice, he didn't seem as enthusiastic about the project as he had at the other end of the summer. Or really, this morning.

A long silence stretched between them. Alvis turned to Casey, worrying his lip. He hadn't thought the question would require this much thought, it was only small talk. Maybe he'd been too nosy...?

But then he caught sight of Casey's expression, that weird, distant gaze, staring off into something that didn't exist. Oddly blank, it wasn't a look that Alvis associated with Casey. The Slytherin boy tended to look like he was calculating something, the gears of his mind constantly turning, even when there seemed to be nothing around to analyze. But now those gears had ground to a halt, and the stillness was unsettling.

"Casey?" Alvis quirked his head, feeling the odd urge to crane around and look Casey in the eye. It wasn't something he normally did, but the desire for it had grown stronger since summer's end. Something inside him strained to reach out, to connect with people, to understand what those around him thought. "Casey, are you okay?"

Casey shook himself, shrugged, and began talking. His tone was bland, less interested than it had been before. He continued to stare at a somewhere else that Alvis couldn't see. It only increased Alvis's concern, but something in the monotone brought his thoughts to a screeching halt.

"Wait, lethal? Two lethal curses? Casey!" It would have been impossible to hide Alvis's horror. The way that rune-spells worked, his design for an amulet wouldn't work on anything or anyone but Casey himself. Which meant he'd had Dingy throwing lethal curses at him just to test it, and, and...! "What does that mean, before it became completely dysfunctional? The third one hit?! You didn't hurt yourself, did you?"

"Am I what?" Casey said, snapping back into his usual demeanor. Blazes, this is why he needed to learn Occlumency quickly, to avoid questions like this. He noted Alvis was looking to establish eye contact. Casey allowed only the smallest fraction of a second before changing his posture, leaning back against the wall and resting his head on the stone. It brought back questions of when he and Alvis had originally come up with this project, inside the armor gallery and Alvis had...what, probed him?

Was Alvis Norling a Legilimens? Casey figured he was the only student studying such material. How could he have mastered it to the point of performing it nonverbally and without a wand poised? Legilimency was not supposed to be an innate skill. Whatever was happening, Alvis did not draw attention to it and Casey might be the only person to have noticed given his research into Occlumency.

"Perfectly fine, save for several annoying medical conditions, unbelievable teachers and people talking behind my back but none of that is new." Norling's next outburst almost humored him. "Pipe down, nothing was Unforgivable."

That was the curious thing, as Casey thought back to the Wizarding Blood Alliance and the attack on St. Mungo's. None of the actions had been directed towards death. Garroting Gas in high quantities, various combinations of potion burns and spells could be life threatening, but the intention of the attack seemed to be to harm. And while the hospital was certainly disrupted, is was the best place for the victims to be.

"I'm conversing with you, am I not?" Casey replied to the paniced questions. After the shield had broke Casey had been much more careful in the halls. By then the main attackers were diversing and a respose from the Ministry had been called up so Casey had returned to defend his mother's room. "When the last spell hit the shield flew out of my hands. The runes cracked. Or melted. It deformed very quickly, the last spell further intensified by the previous spells it had defended. The ones that absorbed."

"Pipe down, nothing was Unforgivable."

"I should hope not." Alvis gave a weak shake of his head. That Casey could be so nonchalant...goodness. He didn't have a strong constitution, which was saying something coming from Alvis 'In-the-hospital-wing-again-Professor-you-know-how-his-headaches-get' Norling. With all the effort Casey could put into running himself ragged, Alvis thought a poorly-timed Stunning Charm could be enough to do serious damage.

Still...Casey was here...and he seemed all right. At least, Dingy wasn't hovering around him like a worried mother hen.

Alvis muffled a sigh and looked to the floor, scuffing his shoes against the stone as he listened to Casey's description. Intensifying the last spell with those that had been absorbed, hm? He tried to picture it, but couldn't quite wrap his head around it. As worrisome as it was that Casey would throw dangerous spells at himself, Alvis half-wished he could have been there to see the reactions for himself.

"You said you had it with you? Please let me see it, then." He held out his hand for the amulet, pushing his concerns to the edge of his mind, where they continued to lurk as he accepted the piece from Casey and turned it over in his hands. "When you say it intensified the last spell, what do you mean? And the spells -- you're sure they were all hexes and curses, no offensive charms?" He wasn't entirely sure if it mattered, but it was always best to get as much data as possible.

"I didn't administer any other defensive enchantments on it, all had been offensive," Casey said. "It was unusual. Some, mostly hexes, seemed to nullify the moment they hit the shield. But not all did. The curses absorbed into the shield, as if the runes were containing it until it was too much." Casey opened a silver magical pocket watch. They had some time to quickly examine the shield.

"I'll have Dingy fetch it. Dingy!" There was a pause. Casey was used to a measured moment where it took the elf time to beckon the call. But for several seconds there was nothing. Blazes, what now? "Dingy!" Casey said, forcefully. "Dingy! Come here at once!"

* CRACK! DING! FWLOPPLE!*

There was the sound of the elf appearing, his pot covered head smacking the hourglass filled with Ravenclaw sapphires. The sound of twisting paper was from a section of striped wallpaper covered in globs of glue.

"Master Casey had called Dingy?" squeaked the elf, steading to his feet and lifting an arm to peer from under the wallpaper.

"What kept you?" Casey demanded crossly. His bond with Dingy was enough that just purposefully saying his name was enough to summon the elf.

"Dingy has to wallpaper Master Kennedy's bedroom."

"Wallpaper?! Again?" Damn cousins. "Why are you doing it?"

"Dollop is pressing wine and Dimple is giving Master Torna his massa--"

"Alright alright!" Norling did not need to hear of all of the activities in Doherty Manor. "Then before they miss you too much bring me the shield."

"The shield, Master?" Dingy worriedly looked to Alvis.

"Yes, the shield! Alvis knows, Dingy, we built it from his designs. If the family asks tell them I left a Transfiguration book at home or something."

While Dingy was set to the task Casey met Alvis with an exasperated look, one of 'there better not be any mentioning of this to anyone after this meeting.' Finally there was another appearance of the house elf and the shield was left spinning on the floor after a flurry of tangled wallpaper.

Casey picked it up for Alvis to see. It was obviously once a rubbish bin lid, crudely bent outwards like a gladiatorial shield so the handle was now on the inside where the arm could hold it protected. In a ring around the circle where the runes Alvis had suggested, with an oval centered that held the cartouche based on a translated version of Casey's name. Together, it would conceivably protect the owner, the name in the cartouche. And the shied had, up until it's most noteworthy battle damage. The circle was lopsided, like a round chocolate sweet left to melt in the sun then smeared into an oblong. An edge of the outer runes and the bottom of the cartouche were warped, in some places the etchings were obliterated.

Alvis hid a few chuckles behind his hand as he watched master and servant converse. He'd a growing suspicion that Casey cared for his house elf more than he preferred to let on, and their casual back-and-forth -- with no threat of punishment in spite of the squabbling -- only confirmed it. When Dingy glanced his way uncertainly, Alvis offered the elf a small smile and a wave. "Hello, Dingy. Good to see you again."

* CRACK! * Dingy vanished again, off to retrieve the shield. Alvis turned his smile to Casey. "It sounds quite exciting, back home. Do a lot of your relatives live with you?"

Dingy reappeared for a split second, then vanished for good, leaving the shield behind. Alvis leaned closer with a thoughtful "Hm..." apparently unaware of Casey's personal space. He traced the shape of the runes with his finger, paying careful attention to the direction of the stroke. "Right here...the strokes are a bit off. That's understandable, you haven't taken the class. Obviously, they were close enough to function, but a proper carving technique would increase its effectiveness considerably."

Anticipation boiled over as his curiosity grew. He hadn't yet had the chance to consider Professor Reid's assignment for the semester, but now his hands were itching to investigate the suits of armor contained within the castle. A dozen possible adjustments and trials popped up in his mind, one after another: alchemical metals, arthimantic design, the addition of techniques from other civilizations...

"How did it work? When you were using it, I mean. How did you hold it?" Without thinking, he pushed the handle into Casey's hand and took hold of his elbow, sliding behind the shorter boy to get a better view. "Was it close to the chest, like this, or further out? And the shield, was it completely contained within the metal, or did the protection expand beyond it like a shielding charm? And the metal, when it absorbed an attack, how did it feel? Hot?"

Caught up in his own thoughts, he leaned down until his head nearly rested on Casey's shoulder, and tried to imagine how the 'close to real world settings' had played out.

Casey didn't even bother correcting the elf before he left, as he still said "Sir Alf-is" incorrectly. Casey was gritting his teeth as Alvis asked just the question he didn't want him to.

"Plenty of them," he snarled through clenched teeth. "Though I wouldn't call any of it exciting." More like asinine.

At least Alvis was distracting them with the business at hand. Casey watched him intently as the Ravenclaw boy examined the shield. "You can make the next one, then."

Casey had a fluctuating personal bubble. He didn't mind people getting close but he did not like what could be labeled as 'intimate contact' though getting touched when large people picked him up was disliked for different reasons. He noticed Alvis was getting very close during his examination. Casey fought to keep his composure.

"I held it...normally." He held the shield out almost a foot away from him, elbow crooked over 90 degrees in Norling's hand. "I suppose it was just the metal. I could see the spells coming so I would shift the shield to catch each." If it had projected a wider shield as well, it would have been more useful during the St. Mungo's attack.

With Alvis behind him, Casey had the distinct feeling that over his shoulder there was an assassin with pending blade, ready to pierce the ribs. But this was Hogwarts, there were no assassins unless Norling had become particularly skilled with the knife over the summer.

"The metal? It shook at impact but it did not..." The word 'Hot' had come right from his ear, where Alvis had his head rested. Casey didn't need to tilt his head any more than what his peripheral vision told him.

What in the blazing hell was this? Snuggling? Cuddling? This was suppose to be strictly business, not romantic! It didn't even work given that they were both...well technically...

Face flushing like an influenza symptom and heart racing as if he could expect cardiac arrest in the next minute, Casey shivered. "Do you mind!?"

“Mind what?” Alvis asked distractedly. He stared at the shield, eyes focused on a point slightly beyond it, picturing incoming spells striking its metal only to be siphoned away. About the time he’d wrapped his head around the picture, he noticed Casey's shudder and flush. It took Alvis a baffled moment to understand what they meant.

“Oh!” He jerked back, pulled his hands away, and held them up as though declaring surrender. “Sorry, sorry. I, um. I was only trying to understand."

The hint of disappointment in his own voice surprised him. It had nothing to do with romantic affection. Sure, he liked Casey, but he liked him in much the same way he supposed that other people must like their siblings. No, it was the loss  of touch that he regretted.

Alvis hesitated, wondering how to explain himself or if he even should. In the Norling family, both teaching and affection had always been quite tactile. Alvis still remembered Mum’s hands guiding his fingers to write, Granddad’s arms holding him steady on a broom, and Dad's lap, where he'd learned to read. But it seemed most people didn't do that. At least, Hogwarts people didn't, and Slytherins least of all.

He sighed, lowered his hands, and rubbed at his neck. "Sorry," he said again, picking up his notebook. "I...forget...sometimes. Didn't mean anything by it...anyway." He flipped the notebook to a mostly-blank page and started scribbling down notes. "Shaking on impact, that's normal. If it didn't absorb the heat...that's interesting. Good, since it wouldn't burn your hand, but interesting..."

He paused, chewing the end of his quill. The awkwardness now hanging over them was making it hard for him to think. This partnership, or whatever it was, was the closet thing Alvis had to a friendship in his own year. The thought of messing that up made him sick. Still nibbling the quill uncertainly, he glanced at Casey out of the corner of his eye. "I really am sorry. Please don't be mad."

Salazar's Shiny Pate, Alvis was not the least bit as empathetic of others as he appeared if he couldn't stop getting close to people without realizing what he was doing. The shield served just that purpose as Casey clutched it to his chest, stepping away, eyes narrowed at Alvis.

He would refuse any feeble apology. If the Norlings were raised like grabby quintapeds that was one thing but Casey did not appreciate being handled. He smoldered as Alvis tried to revert back to the topic at hand but failed to do so.

Casey was mad, angry for what Alvis had done and how he was proving to be very much the fool outside of the realm of squiggly writing. If there was going to be more of this it wasn't going to be worth the efforts to remaster the lost art of runic armaments no matter the tactical advantage. It was just...in Casey's creed you didn't latch onto people like that, damn the excuse of trying to understand a battle stance. Professor Storm didn't do that to correct posture, only taps or adjustments of the wand hand. Healers could touch you as far as the area to heal was concerned and that was it. Unless it was the rare instance of catching someone before they fell you just didn't touch your peers outside of a handshake only if you respected them.

And Casey was also feeling small because of how easily Alvis had enveloped him, being almost a head taller.

Though Norling's distress did offer Casey some satisfaction. "Just don't touch me!" he spat. "And why should the metal heat up with each nullified spell? That sounds like the stupidest design flaw ever." A level of infuriation was kept in his voice.

"I...I said I was sorry. It won't happen again." Alvis bit his lip. There wasn't anything else he could say. It seemed like nothing could make this situation better. "The heat…It happens. Spells are mostly energy. That energy has to go somewhere. It can be dangerous when it’s not properly channeled. That what Gran says. That’s why I asked, the design would have to b-be refined if it was…doing that…"

Warmth built up behind Alvis’s eyes. He stared at his notebook, unblinking. No tears, no crying, he couldn’t cry, boys didn’t cry over hurt feelings or misunderstandings between friends. Stupid misunderstandings. Stupid Alvis. This always happened when he got so focused on a project that he forgot about the people involved. He always said something wrong, did something wrong, got too close too fast. That’s why he didn’t have any friends. 

No, argued another part of his mind. It wasn’t his fault. Casey was defensive, too defensive, he was hiding something, he was always hiding something, and it wasn’t Alvis’s fault if he got too suspicious for his own good. Alvis hadn’t done anything wrong. Casey had.

Casey…Casey thought him a fool. Alvis wasn’t a fool. He was smart, brilliant, Ravenclaw. He could break through every defense Casey had, if he wanted to. And he should, just to show Mister High-and-Mighty O’Doherty what for.

Look up. Catch his eye. Show. Prove. Look up. Look up look up look up look up…

…why?

Alvis’s quill twitched, leaving a spot of ink on the margins. The urge to cry evaporated. Confusion surged. What was that? For a moment there, he’d felt almost outside himself. And he wasn’t even sure what he meant by that.

In the aftermath, his heart felt oddly numb. Or empty? Alvis shook his head and turned to a fresh page, trying to clear his thoughts. "I…I need to take a sketching. It’ll only take a moment. Hold still. I’ll stay over here." He shook his self-inking quill to get the ink going, glanced up to check the pattern, and began to draw. "Is there anything else? About the attack, I mean. The shield. Anything."

Casey almost wanted to fling a Smack Hex at Alvis for how he struggled with his emotions. Blazes, was he crying? Suck it up and knock it off! He was making it much worse if he couldn't perform the simple act of admitting a fault, slicing off the bad memory and moving on. You didn't need your own pensieve to purposefully forget things. Just never bring it up again. Alvis was severely lacking the most basic of Slytherin qualities. If it wasn't for the fact that it was Alvis who had the experience with runes, Casey wouldn't be trusting him with this armor project. He had almost blabbed their intent to the professors when he was on the Egypt trip, given the tone of his letters. Intellect did not always mean wisdom.

He noted Norling's eyes were flickered, darting away or back towards Casey. He almost wanted to goad the Ravenclaw boy. Yeah, just try and establish eye contact. I can recognize what you do, bizarre as your innate talent is.

That made matters simple: going forward Norling was simply a tool. The designer behind the rune shields and an obstacle Casey could beat with his Occlumency lessons. Nothing more.

"Well it didn't heat up!" Casey said indignantly. A pause for backtracking. "Except for when it broke and melted. I suppose that's what you're looking for."

Let him sketch. Casey could stand there a moment longer and then he was leaving. As he held the shield he took a noted and calculated interest with tilting his head to the side to study the point totals, though he no longer cared for the gems in the hourglasses.

Casey froze. He mentally skimmed the last moments. Yes, Norling had just said that. Bleeding Hell, he had done it again! But Casey had the control to keep his face straight as he hurriedly tried to figure out what this meant. If Norling really had done a successful legilimency probe Casey should be experiencing the thoughts in the forefront of his mind as they were extracted from the depths of memory. Norling, seemingly, could slip in unnoticed but only catch flashes. He probably didn't know what he meant by wording it as 'attack' instead of 'test.' Say he had been able to see that the shield had faced real battle conditions, that didn't mean he knew what the battle was.

But that was worse than any Unforgivable spell. Casey could stubbornly allow Norling the previous blunder if he promised not to touch him again. But Alvis could also touch is mind, a far worse invasion of privacy.

So he keep his voice level, benignly in intent but still bristled because after all, he was Casey O'Doherty. He wasn't going to excuse a blunder that quickly. "What do you mean, 'attack?' Don't like the spells I cast at the shield?"

Alvis paused in his sketch, the feather-tip of his quill resting on his bottom lip. The word 'attack' had slipped from the tip of his tongue before he'd even realized it was there, but the more that he thought about it, the more appropriate it seemed. It was in the way that Casey held the shield, like an uncertain squire following his knight; and in how he had described turning towards the blows, as if they'd been fired at random. And it was in something else, something Alvis couldn't put his finger on.

"Dingy," he said finally, but with utter confidence as his pen returned to the page. "Would not cast lethal curses at you, especially not in a situation where you had to move for the shield to catch each blow. Even if you ordered him to, even if you punished him for it, he'd never risk hurting you. He's too devoted."

He added a few broad strokes, indicating the direction of the attacks rather than the dents that were their results. "Honestly, I doubt you'd even go so far as to order him. It's not your style, from what I've seen. You're much more likely to wait for an opportunity. But whatever that was, I doubt you'll tell me." Because you don't trust me, you don't trust anyone. Isn't it sad in there? Isn't it lonely, to know no mind but your own?

Alvis folded the thoughts up and locked them away. He added a last few details to the picture -- a rune-stroke here, a melted trickle there, and a whisp to show the part of Casey's hair. He sighed. "Just promise you'll be careful next time, all right? Don't go looking for trouble. Dingy's not the only one worried for your safety anymore."

He finished his sketch, double-checked that he'd gotten the runes exactly as they'd been carved, and lowered his quill. He made a point, this time, to avoid eye contact. "I'm done. You can go, if you'd like. I'm going to stay a while and get a better look at the architecture."