0110 hours, Central London
The Headless Knight


The pub were closin' soon, 'bout the usual for a joint 'round a residential area. Its owner let 'im stay outside on the benches with a bottle of ale, nice 'nuff of the bloke. Jacoba 'ad dropped in earlier an' with a dose of somethin' for 'is bloody head so Roger weren't feeling too bad when he 'eard the footsteps.

"You've been drinking this whole time?" Raine Almasy stood underneath a street lamp, leaning against it with arms folded across her chest- and she were pretty, still in that dress, a smear of rouge on smiling lips. Smiling.

He'd be lyin' to say he weren't relieved. Roger stood immediately, stepping down to the pavement an' shrugging off 'is jacket.

"Fuckin' hell Raine ye mus' be freezin' ye bogging arms off." He moved into the light an' motioned for her to turn; she hesitated for a second before allowing him to slip it on. "An' for ye information, I ain't even opened me bottle yet."

The redhead turned around and stared up at him sombrely; he could ne'er tell wot she were thinking but the smile were gone now and this made 'im anxious. She seemed to look at him for a long time before saying anything.

"I'm sorry. You know that right?" her voice wavered like a dithering breeze. "Did I hurt you?" she asked and he felt his face burn with the memory of being hexed 'front of the whole fuckin' party.

Lass knew 'ow to kick a bloke when he were down, though he knew she didn't much mean to. That were her way, s'all. Roger grinned self-consciously and crookedly. He wanted so badly to brush a curl behind 'er ear or hug 'er or- or anythin' ye did when ye saw an' old friend. But everythin' 'bout the way she stood to the arms held close to 'erself... well it were obvious that weren't wot she wanted.

"Always knew ye would bowl me over," the squib laughed nervously. "Were just a ma'er of time, luv. Are ye... are you on your way home?" he felt the compulsive desire to correct himself around her. "I got m-- I 'ave a ride if you want it."

There was a sound off-scene an' Raine was already lookin' up before he'd even noticed. Her expression was alert, briefly, an' then suddenly composed.

Abby left Raine's party with the usual bounce in her step, though that bounce wobbled after the many drinks she'd imbibed. Sasha and her friends had gone after she'd told them Aileen would be here in a minute, but she'd told them a half-truth. Aileen would be here in twenty.

The hours had flown by, filled with games and drinking and laughter, and after her initial quietness, Abby had embraced it all with abandon. Whenever she'd stood still for a moment, worry crept into her thoughts, and when the party was over, she could ignore it no longer. Roger was probably long gone by now. Still, Abby wrapped her cloak around her and bent her head against the wind, veering toward the pub next door.

She came to a sudden halt when she spotted Roger underneath the lamplight. With Raine! The air felt thick and cold and foggy, yet Raine stood out in red and black, while Roger slouched tall, lanky bare arms at his sides.

Abby stared at them. She had just one question.

If Raine was willing to don his jacket, and Roger had saved a bottle of ale - what the hell had happened at the party earlier? Had she worried for nothing?

Ok, two questions. But she was in no state to interrupt and hear the answers. Roger's laugh cut through the fog. Abby scuffed her shoe against the pavement as she turned away.

Which caught the ever-observant Raine's attention. Damn!

Abby nodded at them from the edge of the pavement, where only her hair caught the dimmer light.

"You two are good then?" She grinned. "Good!"

Crossing her arms, she glanced down the street. As if Aileen drove.

His jacket reeked of cheap tobacco and stale champagne.

Raine regretted a great many things this evening- most prominently, cursing her once-best friend across the restaurant in a flash of anger. At this moment however, she regretted not wearing heels. Roger had grown since they had last met. He was taller and broader and... and even more handsome. But his eyes were still stormy.

His smile was still crooked. "I got m-- I 'ave a ride if you want it." The boy offered and she smiled faintly, gaze shifting from her focus on the foreground.

Was that Abby?

It was Abby! "You two are good then?" Their gazes met perhaps a little uncomfortably. "Good!"

Already, Raine was moving to take her friend's hand to pull her into the light. "Yes, we're good. I mean we... we..." she paused, glancing from one squib to the other with a furrowed brow. "Do you two know each other?"

The question had been lurking in her head ever since the party when Abby had retreated into a glass after their incident. It just hadn't been an obvious one to ask until now.

Roger's smile was growing into a grin, losing its awkwardness, and she noted the expressed familiarity. "Abby!" he greeted. "Aye, ye know 'ow it is Raine. Us squibs get t'know each other after 'nuff time."

Abby only hesitated for a moment when Raine pulled her into the light. Drink made her eyes a little brighter than usual, and a strange feeling of the jitters made her glance from one friend to the other and back out at the street, a small, tight smile on her face.

Raine wondered if they knew each other, but didn’t seem upset about it, and Roger answered with his characteristic humor. Abby snorted out a laugh and shook her head, letting go of Raine’s hand after giving it a gentle squeeze.

“It’s true. I met him around my birthday. I was trying to get into a pub and they wanted everyone to do some magic trick before letting us in. So, I grabbed this one randomly, because I’m brilliant.”

She demonstrated by tugging Roger’s arm lightly. “I was like, go on! Do something magical!”

Her voice took on more energy, and seemed a little loud in the darkness of the night. “But after plenty of misunderstandings, we figured out we were both squibs. And obviously, friends for life. Plus, we got into the pub. Somehow.”

Abby shrugged. Roger’s doing, of course.

“I was going to tell you and make all of us hang out sometime, Raine, but someone showed up to your party unexpectedly,” she widened her eyes in mock-exasperation at them both.

“My plan would have worked better,” Abby declared with a rueful grin.

It were 'ard t'tell with Raine but he knew when she were 'bout to lose it. Those eyes look a touch too pale, 'er lips too thin.

"Aye, it would 'ave!" Roger jumped on 'is friend's comment with a quick glance at the redhead, who'd gone quiet. "I never were the brightest, not even in me muggle school. Lot've good that bloody did me."

He were ramblin' now but if he didn't then she would've said something, prolly somethin' she'd regret too.

"Are ye waitin' for a ride Abby?" he pulled her in closer, casually wrapping a hand 'round the quin's shoulder. "I were just 'bout t'ask Raine if she wanted one. Got t'apologize for crashin' 'er party."

The look on Raine's face relaxed- and so did Roger. Didn't 'urt to remind 'er that she'd gone an' hexed him. Smiling a li'l guiltily, the witch glanced at the two of 'em with folded arms. "You don't have to apologize," she looked away briefly. "That was rather silly of me, wasn't it? Cursing a squib. You must think I'm terribly cruel."

It weren't clear who she were talkin' to but he answered fast 'cause it looked like she were in pain.

"Don't beat ye self up o'ver it," Roger frowned. "Weren't nuffin' I didn't deserve." He stopped, lettin' go of the blonde, an' dug his hands into his pockets. Were gettin' cold. "Abby 'ere understands don't she? It were just an impulse, ye can't be blamed."

At the look on Raine's face, Abby's smile dimmed. What had she said? Was it the way she'd explained it? She felt badly about it coming to light on Raine's birthday, but she hadn't wanted to tell her in a letter, and they'd been busy with other things at the Yule Ball. Excuses, of course, but the one thing Abby wanted was to keep both of them as friends, even if they couldn't stand each other.

Luckily, it seemed Roger and Raine were already smoothing things over. Roger especially, with his self-deprecating jokes and casual affection.

Abby shrugged underneath his arm, another smile twitching on her face. "Yeah, but it'll be a while. I don't want to hold you guys up."

When Raine admitted guilt and looked ready to fold in on herself, Abby opened her mouth, then paused. Yes, it had upset her. Roger was the one who had to decide, though - he was the one who'd been hexed.

He jumped in to dismiss it, and Abby only hesitated a moment before agreeing. "Right!"

She smiled at them, wondering why he'd felt he deserved it. Maybe she didn't want to know. No, no, she did.

"We all lose it sometimes. Some of us just have more explosive means than others to express it."

Abby shot a teasing look at Roger, jerking her thumb at him. "Like Roger here. You should see him in a pub fight!"

Foot in mouth again! "Shockingly enough, I don't participate," she grinned at Raine. Nope, the first few times she'd grabbed a stool, and the bouncers had merely taken it away from her before kicking them all out.

"Just stay in the back and sip my drink!" She nodded.

Watching the two squibs together, Raine felt a strange thing- perhaps, she realized, how Roger had felt around her and her sister all those years ago. She felt like a third wheel. The pair of them had stories together. Stories neither had bothered to share before.

As if though on cue, Abby piped up. "Like Roger here. You should see him in a pub fight!" she exclaimed and he turned red in the face. Pub fight? Roger?

"You get into pub fights?" The Gryffindor caught herself asking in surprise. "So you're perfectly willing to throw punches now?" the anger in her voice was an overwhelming undercurrent and she forced it down by some miracle of will power.

He swallowed, hand behind his head in a nervous gesture she recognized. "Only if I 'ave a pint o'two in me. Ain't the same, luv." It wasn't the same but she resented him for it anyway. Raine stared at his face for a little while and then turned to Abby, suddenly spiteful. Her features were sharp under the glare of the street lamp.

"Has he told you?" she asked the other girl, jaw tight. "About his bastard uncle? About my sister?"

     "Ye cannae do this t'ye s--"

"I can do whatever I bloody well please." Raine snapped without looking at him as she met Abby in the eye. "Has he told you anything?"
 

Abby's eyes widened. Her grin faded once more. Damn it! She'd said something again, and Raine reacted with the same verve and fire that Abby had seen from her earlier. Not good. Not good at all.

Confusion and discomfort settled on her face as she glanced between the two of them, trying to understand what was really happening. It was happening so fast. Raine kept talking about throwing punches, and all Abby could guess at the moment was maybe she wanted Roger to stand up for himself? Which didn't make sense.

Raine turned, peppering her with questions - her sister. His uncle. Abby automatically shook her head, then protested, "Wait, he has. He told me his uncle killed her," she blurted, glancing down.

They hadn't talked much about it. He'd basically confirmed what she'd read in the article earlier in the month.

Did she have a right to know? Wasn't it between them?

"Look, Raine, I'm sorry. I really was going to tell you we'd become friends." She glanced at Roger as if he'd confirm this. "I should let you two talk things out," she nodded, a bit frantically. "I keep running my mouth."

Her mouth twisted in regret. She'd love to blame the drinks she'd had, but it was mostly her.

"Don't let 'er scare ye away Abby." Roger interjected in a muffled voice. The blood had drained from his face an' he 'ated seeing Raine like this but he weren't gonnae let 'er bully anyone either. Lass didn't know what a fuckin' wretch she could be.

An' he didn't fancy hearing 'er talk 'bout wot had already come t'pass either. Thing is, he knew she would whether he liked it or not. Only way t'win were to beat 'er to it. "He was--" the redhead began and he cut in coarsely.

"I were there. Aight? S'that wot ye wanted to 'ear?" he glared and she glanced at him, lips thin with annoyance. "I were there when he killed 'er an' I didn't lift a fuckin' finger. Ye 'ad to come to me boggin' rescue 'coz that's wot ye always do innit? Ye were just too late."

Oh he'd gone done it now. Raine looked like she were gonnae hex him again- 'er cheeks were red an' if anythin', 'er hair looked even redder. But she didn't do nuffin'. She sort've looked like she'd 'ad the air knocked out've 'er.

"Raine?" he started, tryin' to reach out- an' she stepped back.

The lass shook her head, staring at 'im. "Don't." she paused an' then breathed out 'eavily. "God, Roger. Just don't. I can't... you let him kill her." Roger flinched like he'd just been slapped. "And I know that it isn't the same as letting her die. I know. I... I'm just so angry."
 
No, she weren't only angry. He knew that look, 'cept she couldn't see it. Raine was sad.

Words hung over them like suspended raindrops - the words they'd flung at each other, the words that had yet to be said. Abby let out a shiver, anticipating the crash of water on fire. The streetlight, once a comforting respite in the darkness, cast a harsh glow over every pale face, every glare and thin mouth.

Abby stood between them, pulled into a pensieve where the past repeated itself and ghosts loomed  large.

"Hey," her voice wavered as a smile flickered over her face. "Why don't we all walk for a bit. To your car? Bike? Whatever?" She glanced at Roger.

"We're all tired. It's late. We don't know what we're saying."

They seemed to know exactly what they were saying. Still, Abby locked eyes with Raine, not quite reaching out for her like Roger had, but her fingers twitched forward, then curled in.

Raine was exhausted, tired of her birthday and friends and the memories that caught up in the moment she thought it was alright to slow down. More than anything, she wanted to see her sister right now. Why couldn't she just see her sister?

"Not his bike," she answered once a drift of silence had ensued Abby's nervous suggestions. It was only this morning that the law authorized her to legally operate an automobile but she was willing to bet that none of them at this second were sober enough to be behind any sort of wheel. "Taxi stand around the corner, by the hotel."

They started walking and the Gryffindor quickly outstripped the two squibs, her lonely set of footsteps clicking away ahead of them- she could feel Roger's eyes, tracing the outline of her frigid shoulders underneath his jacket.

"Soz, Abby." Raine could hear them talking behind her. "That were stupid, me mouth got away. Didn't mean t'drag ye into this, luv."

His voice was honest with feeling and she remembered that really, he was a terrible liar. It was good that he rarely tried.

"Thought t'night were gonna be be'er," Roger continued as they turned into a better lit street, with the occasional car whirring by quietly. An extravagant green awning ahead indicated the muggle hotel she had mentioned. "Whole fuckin' thing got away, not just me mouth."

Raine slowed down a little, tilting her head to hear better and then deciding to stop altogether. Because everything he said didn't only apply to him. She glanced back at them with a frown, but a soft one with a hurt eyes.

"This is me," the hotel valet across the road was hailing cabs for other pedestrians. Roger peered at her worriedly; he had his unopened beer bottle in one hand, held gently by its neck. Raine glanced from him to Abby. "I suppose I'll see you again before school starts."

"No worries, Roger," Abby told him, watching Raine in front with a worried gaze. "My mouth is always getting away from me."

They’d all said things she imagined they regretted, though Abby suspected her mere presence had added more to the tension than her words had. Raine should be stepping where she stepped right now, not yards ahead.

As Raine slowed down and looked back at them, she wondered how much she could hear. Pausing in front of Raine, she glanced down, avoiding the hurt in her eyes and hiding her own.

"Definitely!"

Abby peered down the line of cars, pursing her mouth to the side. There was nothing like that in the wizardling world.

"Are you sure about the cab? It’s like paying someone to give you a ride on his broomstick,” she blurted in all seriousness[1].

1.	Can’t take credit for this phrase. Nuri thought of it and it made me giggle!

He reacted b'fore either lass could, bursting out in laughter so loud that several passing heads turned in their direction. Raine looked alarmed and her hand flinched an inch t'wards where ever it were she hid that boggin' wand.

"Bloody 'ell Abby!" he nearly dropped his bottle. "Watch wot ye say ye wee scamp." A crooked, playful grin twitched at his lips and he peered o'ver at the other squib. "None o'us got a lid on our tongues t'night."

The gaze flickered to the redhead warily- and blinked in surprise at the expression staring back; not 'urt but sort've fond. "That's true..." she was almost smiling when the tone changed abruptly: "Are you going to drink that?" her eyes slid to his hand. Roger lifted the ale, confused.

"Aye?" he looked at the label back to her face and a familiar red eyebrow arched at him, unimpressed.

That were the look ye'd get from ye school mistress on a shoddy day, it were. "And you're going to drive home?" Raine continued with the look. "Have you reached the legal limit?" Oh fuck, who'd gone and taught 'er 'bout muggle rules when he weren't looking.

"A lil too early for ye to be playin' auror, if ye ask me." Roger lifted a hand defensively. "Aight, fine. Not a drop. In fact, 'ere-" he threw it at 'er without warning, though she didn't need one- lass caught the bottle quick enough. "Ye can 'ave it. 'appy birthday, right? An' you'll need this for the top, 'old on."

He reached into his pocket, following the bottle with an ol' swiss army knife that she caught more carefully. Raine looked up from these gifts with a face he couldn't place. Prolly not the sort've presents she were used t'gettin' at 'er parties. "Still giving me weapons, I see."[1] she muttered, b'fore glimpsing up at at Abby. "Take care of him won't you?"

1.	Pensieve thread, Raine was given a lighter.

Abby looked startled, then laughed at herself. “Woo! I’m being inappropriate without even trying!”

Raine took it in stride, and Abby kept quiet as they debated over the bottle of whiskey, unsure if it’d grow into another argument. He ended up giving the alcohol to Raine instead. Abby hoped she wouldn’t drink it in the taxi!

In Abby’s slightly foggy mental state, it took her a moment to process her words. “Sure,” she glanced at Roger, wondering if he’d taken Raine’s goodbye as friendly affection or heard some note of finality in her voice. She hoped for the former, but couldn’t tell.

“Be safe, birthday girl!” Abby called after her as she made it into the cab.

"Looks like I'm making sure you get home safely," she teased Roger. "I'll walk with you."

To his bike or around the block, whichever worked better. Though she hadn’t known the full story about Sanya before, she couldn’t judge him. Not now, when any judgment she’d make on the complicated matter would be tinged by how tired and tipsy she felt.

Abby hooked her arm with his, sliding him a sly look as she realized something of great importance.

“You lost your jacket,” she giggled. “One of you is going to have to reach out to the other to make sure you get it back. You should be like,” she lowered her voice slightly, “Raine, you know how important my leather jacket is to my tough bloke image!”

Abby straightened her cloak, hitching up her elbows in her best tough-bloke interpretation as she strutted next to him.

“You’ll have to act quick so she doesn’t just owl it to you or something simple!”

There was hope, if she had anything to say about it!