Evening

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Zel had decided, quite firmly, that the world liked to shit on him. He had been abducted by someone who looked like Raine but wasn’t, forced to transform without the last dose of wolfsbane, and then forced to kill a muggle who looked like Raine. It was as if his abductor understood him well enough to know how much the fiery redhead meant to him. He couldn’t get the image out of his head—but the smell and the taste of the victim’s blood was what lingered the most in his memory.

He spent most of the day recovering from the cold while being interviewed by some very competent aurors. He came home to a tearful Emeline, and his little siblings practically tackled him with hugs. He awkwardly gave them their Christmas gifts and then retreated to the guest room he stayed in since his visits. He appreciated Em’s new home, because now he had an actual space to be alone rather than just a drawer.

Zel retired for an early night, when Emeline had burst into his room without any warning.

“Cover up your private bits Zel, you have company!” She exclaimed, “Or don’t, it’s your choice.” She closed the door behind Raine. Furguson got up from his perch on Zel’s pillow and greeted Raine by rubbing up against her legs.

Zel rolled out of bed in his alarm and fumbled around for his pajama bottoms and shirt, discarded on the floor when he had decided to crawl under the blankets. He was thankful that he had decided to keep his boxer briefs on, a habit from sharing a dorm for, what, seven years now? “I—“ He pulled his shirt on and gave her a week, bashful smile—his ears tinted red. He had been worried that upon seeing her, he’d feel sick to his stomach. To Zel’s surprise, all he felt was relief tinged with a little bit of wariness. Was this really her?

“Happy Christmas.” He managed, hopping about as he tried to put on the bottoms. When that task was completed, he stood there, arms crossed over his chest protectively.

Raine's heart was in her throat, beating mutedly as if though heard from underneath the surface of a sea. It felt like months had passed since Auror Eleor had come to her current home in east London to ask about the whereabouts of Zel Trumble. And yet since then, very little had happened. Christmas Eve dinner had come and gone, gifts exchanged in the morrow, little Almasy cousins entertained. Nights spent falling asleep next to Aunt Ira while she worried about her friend being stolen away by somebody who had used her face.

How? How did they do it? It didn't bear thinking, the notion that someone could have easily gotten a strand of her wild hair. One didn't worry about such things. Not until after the fact.

She had not apparated. The automobile hadn't seem appropriate either, the sort of vehicle you took out into the country with friends, not something you drove through London city in the evening. Her older relative had said nothing to her leaving - really, it was wonderful to have someone who understood that she didn't want to talk about it with anybody besides Zel. The old motorcycle was perfect. A solitary conveyance.

Sadly, the flat in Hiraeth Gardens was anything but solitary. There was no escaping people however, and as Raine was shown to Zel's room she smiled awkwardly at the Trumble siblings and ruffled her curls, which had been flattened by the helmet.

“Cover up your private bits Zel, you have company!" Emeline Trumble was merciless. "Or don’t, it’s your choice.”

Raine smirked, glancing over her shoulder at the other woman before she disappeared behind the door into the rest of the flat.  And then she turned her attention to the tall, Hufflepuff wizard who was all at once changed and unchanged from when last they had met. He was still Zel, she thought with relief, but not the same Zel who parted with her at the end of summer. There was something... off.

Bashfulness was not an Almasy trait. Raine put down her helmet on the closest surface as she smiled bracingly at him, patiently waiting for him to pull on his trousers. But at Happy Christmas, she could hardly suppress a single, sardonic laugh. She registered the crossed arms and defensive body language the way you would in a duel.

"No," she replied with a heavy sigh. "Not so happy at all, Zel." The little witch approached and avoided touching him entirely, sitting herself on the edge of the bed while she looked up. "In fact I think this was probably a horrid Christmas for you. I'm so sorry." Her gaze was rooted, frank. Raine tilted her head to the side.

There was no point in being circumlocutory. They had to be brave, even about the little things in life, didn't they? Even if she was vaguely nervous, tight little ball of guilt curling in her stomach.

"Do you want to talk about it or not talk about it?" A fiery eyebrow went up and she rested back on her hands. "Or we could sit. Or anything you want. I can go." That was a bit of a lie - she could but she didn't want to go, and she definitely didn't expect Zel to make her go. He was too stupidly nice for that.

He watched her guardedly as she made her way to the bed. She moved like Raine.She sounded like Raine. But whoever had used her face had mimicked her well.  She placed her helmet on his dresser, and Zel struggled to remember if Raine had owned a motorcycle or not. Yes? Maybe? Doubt clouded his memory. His stomach clenched as his heart began to beat erratically.

She was right, this was not a happy Christmas. There was no point in pretending. He wondered how much she knew about it.

Zel narrowed his icy eyes down at her. He didn't want to talk about it, not until he knew for certain who was sitting on his bed. He only hoped that if it was his friend, that she wouldn't hold his skepticism against him.

"What is my patronus?" He asked, his voice steely and unwavering. A challenge.

Raine drew her legs up on to the bed, folding them as she fiddled at the hem over her oversized sweater with one hand. A ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips and she met Zel's suspicion appreciatively - chin tilting up, pale blue eyes levelled against his. In a way she might have been disappointed if he hadn't said anything like that.

She was pleased to drop the pretence of pleasance. That could be exhausting. And she was tired, so tired of pretending that things were alright.

"Have you ruled out classmates then?" her tone was light, because she had just conjured up the image of his patronus in her mind and it was too adorable not to cheer her up. "Baby elephant. Waddling with its baby legs, swinging its baby trunk." Raine bit her lower lip to repress the laugh.

Merlin, who could possibly want to hurt a wizard whose patronus was a baby elephant? Zel wouldn't hurt a soul.

"I could try harder. You once thought Boris the alligator was going to eat Maurice. That rhymes, too. Extra points?" Raine glanced at the cat in the bedroom, happy to have received its affectionate greeting earlier, though suddenly aware that she had not made its acquaintance before. "Speaking of which, I ought to have brought him. He doesn't like motorcycles. Or the sports car." She tried to sound as casual as she could, worried about whether Zel still trusted her.

But the continued fiddling at her sweater gave the Gryffindor away.

Classmates. Had he ruled out classmates? Yes. He responded with a brief, stiff nod.  Zelig couldn't think of a classmate who would want to do this and would be able to pull it off without leaving a trace of their real identity. Zel didn't recognize any familiar smells throughout the... Event. No. If it had been someone he knew, then he would have known on some sort of level. Professor Donovan-- Shona-- had told him that it was common for werewolf senses to get keener. The longer that he lived with his curse, the more he realized that her words rang true.

She answered his question without hesitation-- and as she went on to talk about Boris and Maurice, he could feel his apprehension begin to dissolve. Zel's shoulders slumped forward, as if they were finally able to take a break from the weight that had been upon them.

"I don't imagine that a Maurice would like a car or a motorcycle ride." Zel managed a bittersweet smile as he  sat down next to Raine.

She smelled of peach oil and familiarity, of fire that was distinctly hers and hers alone. His wariness receded, though a small part lingered.  He suspected it would be like that for some time. And it wasn't his fault.

Raine was right here in front of him, alive and whole. "I'm so glad you're here." His voice broke as he wrapped an arm around her waist. She wasn't gone. He hadn't killed her.

But he had killed. 

Raine smiled up at her friend as he eventually joined her on the bed, tensing only slightly when he slipped his arm around her. It had been a while since they were around one another and she was too used to expecting violence in the wake of physical contact after so many months spent training with Aunt Ira's bizarre friends.

But the redhead felt comfortable like this.

"I'm so glad you're here." Zel sounded oddly relieved, to her confusion.

Not that she was so self-deprecating that she couldn't imagine someone missing her but... wasn't he supposed to be... more guarded? Godric's socks, someone who looked exactly like her (she tried hard not to think of her late twin) had been responsible for all this fuss, and she still didn't know what on earth they'd done to him.

Raine wrinkled her nose musingly and narrowed her eyes at him. Her arm went round his torso, friendly but protective. "Why? I thought you might not want me to visit, because, you know..." she used her free hand to gesture at her face. "But I'm glad I came. I've missed you."

Gracie and Alex had kept in touch through much speedier methods but Raine hadn't been as consistent in her correspondence with Zel. She regretted it. He might have died just because she'd not the sense to write back, or to check her owl mail. And she should have been here, in Britain, not halfway across Europe casting curses.

She tensed underneath his touch, and for a moment he wondered if his half-embrace was a mistake.  She didn't move, and when she returned the gesture he began to understand her reaction. She was confused.

"Why? I thought you might not want me to visit, because, you know..."

Zel realized that she only knew part of the story-- aurors had interviews her about his whereabouts. Why wouldn't they? He had spent most of the day in their presence, retelling the story over and over again until his eyes ran dry and ached, and his throat grew thick and sore. He felt like he'd repeated it a hundred times since he was found in the snow.

A part of him heard her say that she had missed him too,  but the words were faint. His mind was occupied-- should he tell her? Did he want to tell her?

He let out a hollow laugh that crumpled to pieces around them.

"They used your face in more than one way." He couldn't look at her. Zel closed his eyes and shuddered as he recalled his jaws- wolf jaws-- crunching into her skull. The memory of warm, distinctly human, blood filling his mouth made his stomach lurch.  "They put me in a room with a muggle who looked like you." But didn't smell like her, thank Merlin. "They made sure I missed my last dose of wolfsbane. I transformed." He became their spectacle. Zel was certain that whoever had taken him, watched.

"I killed you." His voice shattered. Somewhere inside him, the wolf seethed.

Oh.

Raine's frown deepened and her teeth clenched together angrily. It all felt... elaborate. Personal. She knew she must have come into contact with the person who did this, or how else could they explain the choice in faces? No. Perhaps because she wasn't at Hogwarts this past few months. Convenience or incidence, or coincidence. Aunt Ira said there were no coincidences. Her thoughts raced through the possibilities even as Zel continued to speak.

In her mind, her rational and focused mind, a formless feeling was taking root. A familiarity. Something obnoxiously cloying that she couldn't concentrate on.

"I killed you."

His voice tore her away from the internal, and Raine instinctively placed a hand on Zel's forearm - not in any particularly reassuring manner, but as a cat would place its paw on a person. Her frown softened, disappeared. He'd been through a terrible thing, her friend. He had killed someone without wanting to. Killed someone like her. 

"No you didn't," she reminded him in a quiet voice. "I'm very much alive."

That was their mistake and they would regret it. Raine looked down at her hand, its digits tense with the conviction. They should have made sure he actually killed her, instead of an imitation. She was more dangerous alive. Survivors always were. That's how she knew that Zel would be alright. Better than alright.

Forgetting for a moment where thoughts ended and speech began, she looked up at him. "They should have killed you. Why would they let you go?" Raine asked in what was hopefully a rhetorical tone as she lifted her hand to touch his cheek curiously. They must have let him live for a reason.

Assuming that these people were logical.

"Sorry. That was..." worse than rude, she supposed. Her hand dropped with a heated sigh. "It's good that they didn't. I don't know what would have happened if they had killed you too." Would she have cried? That didn't sound like something she would do. It could have driven her, perhaps, but Raine was  happy for fewer bodies to pave her road to being an Auror.

He finally brought himself to look at her. She was still. He wondered what she thought of this. Angry? Hurt? Something completely nameless? She insisted that he didn't kill her. Zel knew that. She was right in front of him, whole. Her doppelganger had not been so fortunate. There was some sort of message in there... Whoever had taken him, knew how much Raine meant. The possibility that the abductor was either an unknown stalker or-- even more worrisome-- someone they knew, was too great.

"They should have killed you. Why would they let you go?"

He'd been asking himself that question all along. Her hand had been warm and tense on his arm, and when she removed it, he was suddenly very aware of the absence of warmth it had left behind.

"It's fine." Zel brushed away her apology. She was direct-- he appreciated it. "They should have." But they didn't.

He cleared his throat and hesitated, but then decided the words needed to be said. "I don't think they're done. There's more to this." Zel didn't want to know. Was he still in danger? Possibly. He had been used like a plaything, and he doubted they were toying with him. They had his wand. Did they keep it as a trophy, or would it show up in some twisted way later?

"If they killed me--" He inhaled slowly, "You would have moved on. And that is okay." She'd been through sharper losses. Sanya had been a part of her. If Raine could get through losing her twin, she could get through losing him. If he had lost her though? Zel had no idea how he would have reacted. Zel suspected that there would be a lingering loneliness in the parts of his life that she had inhabited. He didn't believe that people could be so easily replaced.

"Thank you, for being here."

"If they killed me...You would have moved on. And that is okay."

Raine looked up sharply, forgetting the suggestion that there would be more to this than the kidnapping itself, and she smacked his arm lightly. Moved on!! What sort of self-deprecating nonsense was this? She couldn't simply move on, any more than she could have if Gracie or Alex had disappeared. Merlin forbid.

Her eyebrows drew together in censure, somehow redder than they were a moment ago.

"It doesn't get easier, you know, losing people." The witch scowled and breathed out heatedly. "Nothing would have been okay and nothing is okay. We're... you're..." she lowered her feet on to the floor - Zel's new cat ambled over, rubbing its head against her boots. "Too young. I know people were our age or... or younger in the second war but it isn't supposed to be like that."

They were supposed to be safe a little longer. Raine glanced down at her own hands, hastily shoving away the idle thought that twins did not share a handprint, and leaned against her friend's shoulder tiredly. Everything felt wrong. Uncomfortable.

In an ideal world, all of them would be graduating a few months from now. She would have left Hogwarts with her sister and gone their separate ways, safe in the knowledge that the other was alive. Zel would never have murdered anyone. Nor would have Sasha. Roger would still be around. And the only thing they would complain about is senseless articles in Witch Weekly or how awful vomit flavoured Bertie Bott's beans tasted or how it never snowed in London when you wanted it to.

Wasteful, wishful thinking. "We'll make it better." Raine closed her eyes to an imminent headache. "You're here."

She smacked his arm!

She smacked his arm!

Zel was torn between laughing and pretending to be mortally ruined. He settled on simply looking bewildered.  She was right though, it didn't get easier losing people. He had been five-- nearly six years old when he lost his father. Zel vividly remembered the smell of his father's aftershave, the way his mustache tickled his face when he kissed Zel on the cheek. He remembered that his dad had short, dark hair. But memories were obscured. He wasn't so sure he would have remembered what his dad looked like without pictures to go by. He'd been told that he looked like him, though with albinism.

His father certainly wuld not have approved with where his children were now. Alrich had been heavily discriminatory against werewolves. Heavily anti-werewolf. That was what got him killed. That was what turned Emeline. Garrett still bore scars. Both his siblings had spent ages in St Mungos because of that. His mom had been pregnant with Zenia.

In a way, the Trumble bad luck led back to his dad.

"Too young. I know people were our age or... or younger in the second war but it isn't supposed to be like that."


Zel nodded numbly in agreement. It wasn't supposed to be this way. But it was. What could they do about it? He didn't want to say it was fate. No. Fate is just what it was called when people didn't know who was behind it, what was causing it. Fate was something people hid behind to make themselves feel better about being out of control. It wasn't a comfort to him, it was a fallacy.

The werewolf pulled Raine closer and nuzzled the top other head affectionately. Her scent was a comfort to him-- warm, sweet. Alive. In one piece. His heart warmed to her, and he allowed a smile to peek through. "We will make it better." He agreed. "We have to." It wasn't a choice. They could either make it better, or let it tear them apart. Zel wasn't one to allow that to happen.

Zel looked down at her and cupped a hand to her cheek, turning her head so he could get a good look at her. Alive. Her freckles stuck out against her fair skin, and her fiery curls framed her face. "I'm here, and I am not going to leave." He murmured, pressing his lips against her forehead. There was no hesitation to his words, in this he was sure of himself.

If she were one for blushing, she might have just matched the colour of her curls when Zel nuzzled her crown and kissed her forehead reassuringly. What an odd sensation, it gave to her heart. Like coming home to a hot cup of tea and a warm fire after the winter day had drawn to an end. She did not need to be reassured - nor coddled, it went against the Almasy's astringent personalities - but even so, Raine was glad to hear the composure in his voice.

It did a witch good to be reminded that she was not alone in this grapple with forces unknown.

There was Zel... and following thoughts of him, those of others who she relied upon and who she knew could come to rely on her as well. Gracie, Alex. Housemates, classmates, even would-be enemies who would put their differences aside if any real danger was to be avoided. All of them fighting their own battles and all of them ready to help in their own ways.

"I'm here, and I am not going to leave."

"Nor am I," she looked up and returned the kiss without thinking - only, being rather short, settled for the awkward endeavour of pressing her lips to the white skin of his jawline.

Zel had much softer skin than she expected. Perhaps because he was so pale, which always reminded her of bleached muggle papers, the sort her grandparents used for their infernal printing device. It was not so unpleasant a contradiction between appearance and feeling.

"Literally. Unless you would like me to leave." Raine took his hand and then his forearm, gripping tightly before tilting her chin up in defiance. "But I'd rather not go. I haven't slept soundly, since Auror Eleor came around." And both she and her aunt had agreed: best to avoid sleeping potions for a while after that tragedy at the hospital.

A small smile, quite unable to loose its challenging quality. "Do you mind?"

Zel startled when Raine returned the kiss, her lips brushing clumsily against his jaw. Face burning, he was very much aware of the fact that his pallid complexion betrayed any emotion he had-- regardless of whether or not he could label said emotion. Like now. He wasn't sure what it was that he felt. He froze, heart in his throat.

He didn't want to read too much into this. He didn't want to allow his feelings for her to cloud his perception, to make him find meaning where there was none. Raine did care for him, that much Zel knew.

"I don't mind." He finally replied, a shadow of a smile gracing his lips. Zel didn't mind; in fact, he would have liked her to stay.

Zel had been worried that seeing her would only deepen his wounds. He was relieved to realize that instead, her presence brought relief, and eased some of the anxiety. She didn't hate him for what he'd done. She understood, as much a she could, that this disease--this curse-- was not something he could control. 

Pale brows furrowed together in concern. "Do you-- what do you want to do?" He offered weakly, knowing very well that he was not in the mood to do anything, except sleep.

She liked it when Zel blushed - he was easy to read sometimes and Raine, who spent a good deal of time with stone faced witches, was glad for their awkwardness. No glamour to it. And he would let her stay so at least there would no need to return to that cold, white mansion.

"Do you-- what do you want to do?"

The Gryffindor gave him a soft, unreasonable expression. Any other person and she'd have accused him of being forward. Raine glanced down at the floor, kicking off her motorcycle boots in two swift motions before nudging herself back on to the bed.

"Anything," she said lightly and laid down on one of his pillows. "Pretend I'm not here." Raine made a chirpy, beckoning noise for Zel's cat to come join her as she curled up on the sheets. "Do you listen to the Wireless? We can listen if you'd like."

If that would make it less weird for him, she thought, though happy just to lay about.

The wireless sounded like a thoroughly bad idea. He didn't want to listen to anything regarding gossip or the news. However, he couldn't help but crack a smile at the ridiculous chirping noise that Raine (and so many others) made to lure cats. In fact, the way that humans spoke to animals in general was ridiculous. Zel himself was guilty of cooing at Maurice and Gus whenever they did something cute.

Furguson happily joined Raine, rubbing his face on her arm and purring. As Zel laid back to join them, the cat let out a groan in protest. Clearly, Gus preferred Raine's company to Zel's. "Oh, stop that." He scratched the cat behind the ears, reaching over Raine to do so.

"Raine?" Zel asked, curious and wanting, simply, to listen to her talk. "What is the most ridiculous thing you did when you were little?"