“And let’s put our hands together for the man of the hour!”

The room burst into cheering as Percy Weasley walked up to the podium in the ballroom of the Longbottom Estate, which had been volunteered to host the night’s events: the celebration of Percy’s appointment as Minister of Magic. The whole extended family, plus the crème de la crème of society and the entire Ministry staff.

Percy was the first new Minister of Magic in thirty years, so the occasion was a momentous one for the entire British wizard population. Not only was it a holiday, it was an opportunity for the population to thank Kingsley Shacklebolt for giving them his best, as well as to welcome his successor.

However, there was one face in the crowd that wasn’t smiling. Percy’s youngest daughter, sixteen-year-old Lucy had her eyes squeezed shut, and her breathing was laboured. No one else seemed to notice her due to the events at the podium. That was save for one person.

“Lucy, are you all right?” asked Louis, her cousin of the same age.

Shaking her head, Lucy said, “I… I can’t breathe in here.”

Louis frowned. “Come on. We’ll get you some tea.” Pulling her close to his side, he led her through the throng of party-goers and toward the kitchens in the back of the house. He knew they’d be empty when they passed a flock of white-clad men watching the ceremony from the perimeter, who were presumably the cooks.

And getting a break from the crowd was exactly what she needed. Lucy hated crowds of people and always had. Louis was impressed that she’d stuck it out this long, considering how crushing that phobia would get in heavily populated places.

Giving Louis a grateful smile, Lucy sat down at the table, her face buried in the crook of her elbow as he fished out a couple mugs and some teabags. “Fervens,” he muttered as he tapped his wand to each cup.

“You’re not allowed to do that,” she said, her voice muffled.

Louis scoffed as he dropped in the tea and carried the mugs over to the table. “So let them lock me in Azkaban for making tea.” He pushed one of the drinks toward her. “It’ll make you feel better.” His theory was correct in that regard as she deeply inhaled the vapours from the tea, a smile curling its way upward. “Told you.”

From there, a comfortable silence fell between them, and Louis knew he’d made the right decision to get her out of the mob in the ballroom. She’d wanted to be there for her dad, and she’d given it her best, but Lucy got the shakes when she was in Diagon Alley on a busy day; twice that number of people were there for the Ministry fete.

His mind didn’t linger on her enochlophobia for long, though. As it was every time they were alone, Louis found his mind drifting toward another day, when the company was the same as it was right then: just the two of them.

The sun shone down on the orchard at the Burrow, and along its outskirts sat two teenagers. They shared a low-sitting tree limb as a seat, their feet swinging back and forth out of old habit. The boy reached up above him and plucked one of the ripe apples from its branch, one of the rose-red Pink Lady apples that Nana Weasley loved to grow. With a hesitant smile, he handed the apple to the girl with whom he was sharing his perch.

“For you, madame,” he said. Adding in mock dramatic fashion, he said, “Though its sweetness pales in comparison to your own.”

Giggling, the girl took the apple and playfully punched her companion in the arm. “Shut it, you!” Giving him a sideways glare, she took a large bite of the apple. Some of its ample juice escaped her mouth, which she darted her tongue out to catch.

The boy’s heart skipped a beat when he saw this. She had always been pretty to him, especially when the sunlight caught the almost burgundy highlights in her chestnut-coloured hair, but it wasn’t just that. But as she polished off the apple, he couldn’t help but contemplate the way her eyes sparkled when she was laughing, the way her brow furrowed when she was thinking, the lustrous rouge of her lips…

His mind no longer in control of his actions, the boy drew her moist, fruit-sweetened mouth to his. At first she was surprised, but soon, she tentatively joined him in the tender embrace of untried lips and innocent hands…

Banishing the thought from his head before he got any more uncomfortable than he already was, Louis mumbled, “I need to, um, pop to the loo. Be back in a bit.” He hardly noticed her brief glance of acknowledgement before he practically ran from the room. Though he had no need whatsoever to relieve himself biologically, an acquittal from his own errant brain was in order. There had been a fierce bond between him and Lucy since they had been children, and even more so when their other cousins and siblings moved on in different directions. No matter what, they seemed to be indelibly linked to one another.

And he had changed that dynamic between them that day. That one perfect, beautiful, stupid day… With a grunt, Louis turned on the tap and splashed his face with cold water, hoping to shock himself out of this dangerous line of thought. He knew what the family would say, what they would think, if any of them were to find out how he felt about Lucy. He knew the genetic ramifications of it if, for some reason, they were ever to have children. Plus, with Lucy’s condition, the idea of it was even more inadvisable. All in all, he could think of more reasons that being in love with his own cousin was all wrong than he could in their favour, yet none of the former seemed to permeate his wretched head.

The sound of glass shattering down the hall made him jump before he realised that he was in a building full of drunk people, so a few cups being dropped was virtually inevitable. He breathed deeply, trying to shut out thoughts of Lucy that were anything but platonic before he headed back to the kitchen.

Louis first noticed that the door was agape and dangling awkwardly on its hinges, quite a few of its window panes cracked or spilt out onto the floor. The spray of glass was adorned by a smattering of small, sapphire-coloured pearls — the same ones from the necklace that had been draped around Lucy’s neck when he’d gone to the bathroom. He would’ve known them anywhere, considering he’d brought them back from a family trip to France to give her on her sixteenth birthday. But that twinkling blue, so very similar to her eyes, only mocked him as they formed a sordid trail leading from the table where their still-warm mugs of tea sat without owners.

First it was disbelief that overcame him before panic set in. Everything inside of him railed at the very concept of what his brain told him he was seeing. Almost frantically, he posited every possible scenario that could cause a broken window and a snapped necklace that could end with Lucy being okay and cursed out loud when he couldn’t think of one. There was only once answer.

Lucy was gone.

Incognisant of the sound of grass crunching beneath his shoes, Louis ran out of the still-ajar door. “Lucy!� he called. “Lucy, where are you?� He wasn’t sure whether he’d actually expected an answer, but one never came. Not willing to give in so easily, he called once again, “Lucy!� With no sign of acknowledgment yet again, he delved deeper into the farthest reaches of the grounds, still with no sign.

Soon, he hit the perimeter of the property, which was lined with sentries every hundred feet. Finding the nearest one, Louis hailed, “Oi!� Unfazed by the uniformed hit wizard instinctively drawing his wand, he said, “Have you seen anyone leave in the past couple minutes?�

The hit wizard shook his head. “No one could have done, lad. If anyone at all who wasn’t an invited guest passed through the barrier, the alarm would’ve sounded.�

“But what about anyone who was invited?�

With a shrug, the guard replied, “Guests are free to come and go. There’s not really any way to tell other than if someone saw them.�

Annoyed at the dismissive tone in the hit wizard’s voice, Louis said, “Then why don’t you just humour me and find out.�

“Fine,� the man said before pulling a medallion out of his pocket, which Louis recognised as his Magical Law Enforcement badge. He tapped it with his wand before passing his hand over its surface so the device would recognise its proper owner. “This is how we communicate in the field.�

Louis shot the hit wizard a scathing glance. “Half my family works in the Ministry. I know what it is, so don’t patronise me.�

There was a momentary flash of irritation in the other man’s eyes before he reverted to staring at his badge and waiting for a response. After a couple minutes, he squinted and said, “The Corner family arrived about ten minutes ago . . . adult female, two adult males -- one father, one son. About a half hour ago, Undersecretary David Dungeoness left, but he came back ten minutes later. Other than that, no one’s come and gone in the past half hour.�

“So, how do the wards know who’s come and gone, or are you relying on what you see personally?�

“They detect magic, just like the Trace. Which, I might add, you’ll likely be getting an owl about tomorrow morning.�

Wanting to shout at the man, Louis said, “But what about Lucy? How would this thing know if she’s left or not?�

Frowning in confusion, the man said, “The Minister’s daughter? What about her?�

“She’s a Squib, you idiot!� Louis had to dig his fingernails into his palms to keep from throwing an ill-advised punch at the hit wizard. “Your job is to protect the Minister’s family, so you would think one would bother knowing a little bit about them first. If she gets hurt because of you incompetent lot of --�

“Now that’s enough!� called a familiar voice from behind Louis.

Slightly ashamed of his tone, Louis said contritely, “Uncle Harry.�

Harry held up his badge and said, “I get notified if anyone accesses the guest manifest. Care to tell me what this is all about?� He wasn’t looking at his employee; he was looking at Louis.

Finally, someone arrived who would take Louis seriously. “It’s Lucy. She’s missing.�

“It’s hard to find people in a crush, I know, but that doesn’t mean she’s missing.�

Even Harry was talking down to him, and it made Louis want to hex the next person who treated him like an eight-year-old. “She wasn’t in the ballroom. She was with me in the kitchen.� He then recounted the events after he’d gone to the bathroom.

Looking back toward the house, Harry was finally taking note of Louis’s concern. “And you didn’t touch anything, right?�

“’Course not. I’m not an idiot,� Louis replied, though he had to do so while trotting after Harry, who had begun to briskly walk back toward the house. “What do you need me to do?� he asked, desperate to have something with which to occupy his brain other than the borderline illness that was threatening.

Holding out his arm to halt Louis’s forward progress, Harry said, “Stay behind me. I’m not taking any chances.� When Harry drew his wand, a cold mask of concentration overtook his normally kind features, and Louis felt compelled to do as he was told, drawing his own wand for good measure. Once Harry saw that his instructions were being followed, he proceeded toward the kitchen door, albeit at a more deliberate pace. When they were mere feet from their intended destination, Harry held up his hand, a clear signal to stop.

Pointing toward the remnants of the shattered windowpane, Harry said, “What do you see?�

At first, Louis thought it was a ridiculous question, but when he looked at the mess with a different perspective, he mumbled, “There is more glass on the outside than the inside.�

“Exactly.�

Louis’s brain stalled in coming to the conclusion that Harry was obviously angling for from him, but after a few moments, it finally morphed into some semblance of sense. “So, the window was broken from the inside.� From there, however, he was able to postulate far more efficiently. “That means that, if someone took her, they were already inside the house.�

Nodding, Harry took his own badge out and tapped it with his wand. “I’m calling in a crime scene unit, just to be on the safe side. Don’t. Touch. Anything.�

Flushing, Louis said, “In the interest of honesty, I, um… sort of walked through the glass already.�

“I know,� said Harry, who had begun tip-toeing through the mess. “I followed the trail of chunks all the way up to where you were berating Lawson.� With an agile leap, he cleared the rest of the debris and landed deftly in the kitchen. “Which, I might add in the interest of honesty, is actually an arrestable offence if a criminal investigation is involved.�

“You can arrest me later,� Louis grunted as he followed Harry’s path, although not nearly as deftly. “When I know Lucy is safe and sound, I don’t care what you do to me.�

Harry gave him a sympathetic smile before resuming his visual perusal of the scene. Indicating the beads strewn across the floor, he said, “See the pattern in where they landed?� When Louis shook his head, Harry continued, “They’re fairly concentrated in how they’ve fallen, which means they weren’t, well, flung, like they would’ve been if they’d been pulled. It looks like someone might’ve pushed them off the string, rather than it having been snapped.�

“How could you possibly tell any of that?� Louis was in awe that so little could tell Harry so much.

With a chortle, Harry said, “I’ve been an Auror for over twenty-five years. If I can’t do basic forensics, they should just sack me right now.� Still concentrating on the task at hand, he pointed toward the broken door. “When the boys in the crime lab get here, they have a gadget that can actually tell how tall the person was who broke the window by the glass spray pattern.�

“Are you serious?�

“Absolutely. You can thank your Aunt Hermione for that one. She invented it after she did some research on Muggle crime-solving techniques.� Harry scanned the room one more time before pulling a small notebook from his pocket and scribbling some things down. After that, however, he turned back to Louis. “Now, this is the harder part. I need to know why you were in here and not in the ballroom.�

“It was for Lucy. She’s got this thing about being in big crowds. She started having a sort of panic attack, so I brought her in here to relax for a bit. I went to the bathroom, and the rest, you know.�

Frowning, Harry asked, “Did anyone else see her having a problem before you left?�

“Not likely. Everyone was watching the podium, and she was pretty far in the back as it was.�

“And how was it that you noticed when no one else did?�

“Because no one else besides her parents know about it, since she thinks it’s embarrassing. I found out the day we both went to Diagon Alley for Hogwarts supplies.� Lowering his voice, Louis said, “I told her I wouldn’t tell anyone, but considering the circumstances…�

Nodding, Harry said, “Noted.� He wrote a few more things in his notebook before asking the one thing that Louis had hoped he’d leave out. “Care to tell me why you seem so keenly concerned about where she’s gone barely ten minutes after it happened? You didn’t seem so bothered when your sister got lost for an entire day at the Burrow.�

“Lucy’s different,� Louis said, careful not to betray one of the thousands of reasons he could think of as to why he was so attached to Lucy’s safety. “If she gets lost, she can’t find her way back like you or I can. And who knows what’s out there.� He was satisfied with the vagueness of his answer.

“I see,� Harry replied cryptically.  

Ignoring what felt like an implication, Louis changed the subject to what he hoped was a safer topic. “So, are we going to tell Uncle Percy now, or are we going to wait until your guys can do a proper search?�

Harry exhaled heavily. “We’re going to have to tell him. I had really, really hoped that you were overreacting, but I can’t ignore what’s in front of me.�

At that statement, Louis’s heart sank a little. Whatever confirmation of the situation he had sought, he’d just been given it. If the Head Auror felt that interrupting the Minister of Magic’s big night was necessary, then there was not much of a chance in his mind that Lucy had just popped off for a walk, managed not to be seen, and just happened to break her necklace and a window while she was at it.

Within a couple minutes, a group of Magical Law Enforcement officers, wearing matching sky-blue robes, trotted into the kitchen and made their way straight toward Harry. There was a hushed and intense discussion, and they hung on Harry’s every word. Louis would’ve done anything to have a set of Extendable Ears at that moment, as he had obviously been left out of the conversation on purpose. The closest thing he had to being able to follow along was when, here and there, one of them would cast a glance at a piece of evidence with an assessing eye. It had been disconcerting, however, when he was the subject of that scrutiny at one point.

Soon, the group of crime scene investigators disbursed and began a methodical perusal of the room and nearby environs. Louis was content to watch and see if anything pertinent that Harry hadn’t shared would come to light, but before he could settle in and watch, he felt a hand clasp around his arm. “Best to stay out of their way,� said Harry, of whom Louis had lost track a few minutes prior. “They’ve got this handled. I’m going to take you back to your Mum and Dad, and then I . . . “

Harry didn’t finish, and he didn’t have to; Louis knew far too well what Harry had to do. It couldn’t have been a small task to tell a child’s parents that their baby was missing. No doubt this wasn’t the first time that Harry had been forced to do it, but this was Lucy. Family.

Before Louis even had a chance to process the fact that his feet were moving, he was back in the ballroom. Still being held by his upper arm, he stood there with Harry as Bill and Fleur spun to a halt near them. The couple’s joviality quickly fizzled when they saw the expression on Harry’s face.

“Harry, has he done something?�

“No, Bill. I’m afraid not.� In the way that adults often did, Harry pulled Bill and Fleur to the side, presumably to recount the events leading up to Lucy’s disappearance. The audible gasp from Louis’s mother was enough to confirm that bit of speculation. And it didn’t take long for the news to filter through the crowd, especially when the next thing that Harry did was interrupt Percy’s speech by curtly casting a Silencing Spell around them for all to see yet not understand.

However, as he observed his uncles conversing, Louis knew exactly what Percy felt. Fear. Outrage. Terror on his daughter’s behalf. And trepidation -- lots and lots of it. The more Louis saw of Lucy’s stuffy, uptight father slowly losing, the more the reality sunk in. This was really happening, and she was really missing. And this was expounded further as he watched the party guests make the slow exodus toward the exit, whispers of speculation ripe in the air. Louis’s own name cropped up a few times, as well as any number of wild speculations as to how Lucy could’ve gone missing and why.

But none of that mattered. As Louis was shuffled off by his own parents, he couldn’t help but pray to whatever powers moved the universe that Lucy would come back to her family, come back to him.

 

* * *

 

This was the final time that Louis would ever pack for Hogwarts. On the surface, it was just like every other time he had done it. He was still trying to ignore his father’s suggestions for supplemental NEWT reading and dodge his mother’s insistence that he find himself a girlfriend for once. He was still stowing three months’ detentions’ worth of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes products, most of which he would never actually find the nerve to use.

And he was still going to leave without Lucy. That thought alone stilled his hands and brought back that seemingly ever-present feeling of guilt that had followed him around for the past year. One month after her disappearance, he had returned to school for sixth-year, certain that he would get that owl from his parents or his Uncle Harry, telling him that they had found Lucy and that she was home safe.

But as term dragged on, he knew the likelihood of this decreased by the day. Several people, most notably his professors, noticed the change in both his demeanour and his marks, but they wouldn’t have understood what was troubling him. And forget the number of cousins who tried to cajole him into spilling his innermost thoughts. ‘But you can talk to me’, they all said in some fashion, but he managed to fend them off either by refusing to talk or with outright rudeness. Eventually, everyone just left him alone. Because, wherever she was, Lucy was alone and cut off from everything she knew. It wasn’t fair that he got to carry on.

A soft knock on Louis’s bedroom door jarred his flagging concentration on the task at hand. He resumed mechanically stuffing things into the trunk before calling out, “Come in.� He could tell without looking that it was his dad by the long squeak generated by the door hinges, since his mum would’ve just breezed in. “Dad,� Louis acknowledged without looking up from his packing.

When Bill didn’t say anything, Louis suspected that he wouldn’t like what he was about to hear. “Out with it, Dad. I’ve got to finish this up.�

“I just talked to Harry.�

“Oh?� Louis murmured, trying not to betray the fact that his stomach had just tied itself into a large knot. “What about?�

However, the way he always had, Bill didn’t seem to buy it. “You know what it was about.� He sighed heavily, and Louis didn’t like the sound of that at all. “It’s about Lucy.�

After so long. Louis had run out of the ability to deal with constant disappointment when it came to news, or lack thereof, about Lucy. For months, he had asked nearly every day for updates about the search, and every single time, he got a variation on the same vague answer. His first Hogsmeade weekend after being certified to Apparate had been spent visiting the Auror Department illicitly, only to get the same news that he had got on every other occasion. After a while, he had learnt to stop asking.

But this was different. No one had ever approached him with an offering of an update on the case. Judging by his father’s tone, though, it wasn’t going to be good news. Putting down the stack of shirts he had been sorting, Louis said, “Whatever it is, I can handle it, you know.� He was surprised at the evenness of his own voice, considering how far from calm and collected he really was.

“They’re calling off the search.�

Bill’s words landed like a Stunning Spell in the centre of Louis’s chest. He didn’t know what was worse, the dread he had felt when he though that he’d be told Lucy was dead or the idea that they weren’t even going to be looking for her anymore. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to hex someone into a pulp. Even his dad was looking like a tempting target.

Apparently sensing the discord in his youngest child, Bill said, “Now, son, I know this isn’t easy --�

“You don’t know anything!� Louis snapped. “You don’t have a clue what it’s been like for her, being left behind every year when her sister goes to Hogwarts, when all of us get to go. She’s stuck in a world that doesn’t even know what to do with her.�

Shaking his head, Bill said, “That’s not fair, Louis. Even Percy has agreed that there is little likelihood that she’s still --�

“So that’s it then? She’s just . . . gone to all of us now. Without so much as a scrap of evidence that she’s even . . . dead.� Louis choked out the last word with full reluctance.  He felt sick. Bill tried to smile reassuringly, but Louis found the effort lacked the desired effect.

“I’m sorry, son. I really am.� Bill stood and clenched his hand on his youngest’s shoulder. “Try and get some sleep. It’ll be a long day tomorrow.�

As his father left, Louis knew that little rest would be coming to him that night. The idea had turned over in his head for several weeks by this point, but this latest development was all he needed to set it in motion. It was with a purpose that he resumed his packing, but instead of adding things to his trunk, he began removing them. The books and the school robes were the first to go, followed by his Gobstones set and a large chunk of his stationery supply. In the place of these, he added several more changes of clothing, a sleeping bag, and the bag of Galleons he had been reserving for this very eventuality.

Once these tasks were completed, Louis lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. As fatigue finally took its toll and dragged his eyelids downward, his mind swirled back to another day, another time, another place:

 

The girl blushed and turned her head away. The boy feared that he had gone too far, had crossed an uncrossable barrier. Hesitantly, he reached out his hand and covered hers with his much larger palm. Relief nearly choked him when she didn’t pull away.

“Are you . . .  ashamed?� he asked quietly.

This caused the girl’s head to whip around and meet his eyes with a seldom-shown ferocity. “Don’t. Just don’t.�

Confused, the boy said, “I didn’t mean --�

“Don’t put words in my mouth,� she said sternly, never blinking or averting her gaze.

“Then you . . .� He didn’t dare hope . . . .

Her fingers laced into his, and she squeezed hard. “Biscuits and shooting stars.�

At the nearly forgotten memory, the boy smiled widely at the girl. “Biscuits and shooting stars.�

 

Louis awoke from his patchy night’s sleep hours before necessary, if only to have some semblance of control over his brain’s activity. Pulling himself from bed, he rubbed his burning eyes and stumbled toward the bathroom for a shower.

The hot water didn’t do much to awaken him, and several times, Louis found himself snapping back to consciousness whilst standing up. But, he thought, blanking out is better than the alternative. He definitely didn’t want to keep dreaming about things -- or rather, people -- he ought not be dreaming about. Plus, if he was to have any focus at all on the task at hand, he couldn’t afford to be distracted by his on mental meanderings, especially when they strayed in one particular direction.

He wrapped himself in his dressing gown and headed toward the kitchen for coffee. Normally, he hated it, but he was tired and the day was important. It wasn’t surprising to find his mother already up and sipping on a cup of the very beverage he sought. Pouring a mug of his own, he sat across from her and picked up the edition of the Daily Prophet that normally awaited his dad in the morning. The headline was the same as it always was on the First of September: the rather redundant announcement that the new Hogwarts term was starting and a list of the children attending by year.

When he spied his own name in the seventh-years’ column, Louis’s lips twitched. It made him think of the shining prefect’s badge that lay nestled amongst his discarded Hogwarts robes. No doubt his absence would send the ever-stuffy Head Girl, Ravenclaw Wilhelmina Cox, into a frenzy of confusion, apprehension, and perhaps a little bit of rage.

“À quoi penses-tu?� Fleur asked, startling Louis from his musings.

“Rien,� he replied absently. “C’est un jour important.�

“Oui.�

Louis could sense that his mother knew that something other than jitters over his last first-day of term was pecking at his insides. She had insight in that area that was borderline uncanny. But as his ability to lie was his greatest adversary at the moment, he merely nodded and immersed himself in pretending to read the sports page.

Fleur sighed. She tugged the paper from his hand and said, “Je sais que tu te sens coupable pour Lucy, mais tu es seulement un homme. Ce n'est pas ta responsabilité d'arranger les choses.�

Louis wanted so badly to heed his mother’s words. She was, as usual, right. He did feel guilty for being safe when Lucy was not, and no one could rightly expect him to bring her home on his own. But even this couldn’t change his resolution to do what he could in spite of being ‘just a boy’. He still couldn’t bring himself to lie to his mum, so he uttered a cryptic, “It is what it is,� in English before setting into his cup of coffee. Thankfully, Fleur did not pursue the matter and left him to his thoughts and his Quidditch scores.

For the rest of the morning, Louis managed to dodge any further unsolicited advice about Lucy or Hogwarts or anything else he didn’t want to talk about, and half past ten, the time they set to leave, came rather quickly. As the magical gateway to Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters had lost its lustre a few years back, the family opted to Apparate straight onto the Platform and take advantage of Louis’s ill-used Apparition license.

The flocks of excited younger students did not faze Louis at all. He used to watch them and smile, and in recent years, wonder if Lucy’s face would’ve been similar had she ever partaken in the journey to Hogwarts. It was that memory which fortified his resolve as he pasted a grin on his face and mingled with his cousins as he was expected to do.

Finally, the train began to board, and Louis uttered his farewells to his parents, feeling slightly guilty for what he was about to do. But he was sure they would understand someday, as they had both fought for loved ones in the biggest wizarding battle of the modern age. No one was fighting for Lucy anymore, so he would because he must, and because he loved her.

The train rolled on as Louis occupied a carriage to himself. Concentrating deeply, he cast a Shrinking Charm on his trunk and hoped that the contents would survive the transformation. When it had been reduced to the size of a small stack of books, he clutched it to his chest and started toward the carriage door. It was then that he nearly slammed into Eddie Wentworth, a fifth-year Hufflepuff prefect.

“I was just looking for you. You missed the meeting in the prefect’s carriage.� Eddie paused, waiting for Louis’s gasp of horror at the lapse in behaviour. When none came, he proceeded anyway. “Willie wants you to take the first three carriages to patrol for the first third of the trip, and then someone will relieve you.�

Nodding as if he had hung on to every word, Louis patted Eddie on the shoulder and said, “Right, right. Thank you for letting me know. I’ll be sure to get right on that.�

Once Eddie left, Louis rolled his eyes. Of all the stupid things, he had forgotten the prefect meeting and had nearly been caught. Annoyed with his carelessness, Louis darted out of the carriage and looked both ways, and then once more for good measure, before heading toward the passageway where the train cars were coupled. There was, as always, an Anti-Apparition ward around the train, both to keep people out and keep unruly older students in, but this ward stopped once the first foot or so surrounding the train was cleared. He knew he would only get one shot at this, and failure was not advisable.

Pointing his wand at the less-stout retractable passageway, he cried, “Reducto!�

The passageway snapped back, exposing the train car couplings below, as well as the track beneath, flying by impossibly fast. Ignoring the distaste that simmered in his belly, Louis set down his shrunken trunk at the edge of the train car walkway. Taking a deep breath, he slowly lowered himself down to where he was standing on the coupling, cursing its narrowness and lack of flat spaces on which to stand.

Louis grabbed his trunk as he precariously maintained his balance. He was almost there. Just one last step, one leap of faith, and it was dangerous. As he considered the rapidly moving tracks, he felt a moment of hesitation, but instead of climbing back to safety, he squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to think about pink apples, about stolen kisses, about biscuits and shooting stars.

And, with that, he jumped with all of his might.

 

Louis landed with an unceremonious thud in the grassy field a few miles outside of Ottery St Catchpole, just past a very familiar patch of apple trees. Quickly, he looked himself over to make sure he hadn’t Splinched himself, and when he was satisfied that he was in one piece, he picked up his trunk and started to walk. The search had to start somewhere.

It was about a half mile before Louis felt up to another round of Apparition, and besides that, he wasn’t entirely sure where he was actually going to go. He was going to need a place to sleep at night, a way to keep the Aurors off his tail, and moreover, a strategy.

Briefly, his mind wandered to his extended family’s heart and home, The Burrow, which lay only a few miles behind him. He wondered how long it would take someone to figure out that Louis was no longer on the train, and how much more time would pass before his parents found out. Guilt followed as he hoped that no one would find the note he had left before he got a chance to make a proper break for it.

Nowhere in his plans had there been someone in the distance, shouting his name.

Turning to look, Louis could barely discern the outline of a figure, but he knew that silhouette anywhere. His father was the last person he wanted to talk to, so he began to run as fast as he could as he tried to focus on somewhere — anywhere — to go. However, just as he decided on a grassy knoll near Shell Cottage, he sprinted head-on into his father’s frame.

They both landed with a dull thud in the grass, but as soon as he could, Louis struggled to regain his feet. A strong arm halted his progress and eventually clamped down across his midriff. Louis flailed his limbs in a juvenile effort to free himself, but Bill didn’t give an inch.

“Where you go, I go,� Bill said breathlessly, “so don’t even think about trying to Apparate.�

“Let me go!� Louis shouted, barely cognisant of his trunk digging into his chest as he was pushed face-first into the dirt. Only one thought reigned in his head. “I have to find her.�

“Louis,� Bill ground out as his son’s elbow made sharp contact with his ribcage. “Louis, you need to stop.�

The mere idea sending a flare of anger through him, Louis screeched, “No!� However, Bill’s grip only maintained its strength, and soon, Louis couldn’t muster up the strength to keep struggling. Panting heavily, he sagged against Bill and repeated a half-hearted, “No.�

All he had to do was get away, and he couldn’t even do that. He had failed Lucy, and now no one was looking for her. That thought wrought a howl of despair from his lungs, and he allowed his misery to drain the last vestiges of resistance from him. Bill’s grip loosened around him as he began stroking Louis’s hair like a small child.

“I can’t leave her, Dad,� Louis sniffed into Bill’s shoulder. “I have to bring her back.�

“I know, son,� Bill murmured into Louis’s hair. “I know you do.�

Shell Cottage was quiet, despite its three occupants. Louis stared at a warm cup of tea that his mother had offered as both his parents sat across the kitchen table, looking at him intently. They seemed to be waiting for him to speak first, but Louis had nothing to say. If he told them why it was so important for him to find Lucy and bring her back, they would think he was stupid for believing he could do it by himself, or even for falling in love with her in the first place.

Finally, the silence was broken when Fleur sighed. In her slow but clear English, she said, “Louis, we understand why you did what you did. We are not angry with you. We only want to help you accept that Lucy has left.�

“She didn’t leave!� Louis shouted, hardly noticing when Bill flinched at his tone. “Someone took her, and no one else seems to care!�

Bill shook his head. “There’s something I need to tell you. I was going to wait until I thought you were ready to hear it, but had I known you’d try to escape the bloody train, I would’ve done last night.� At Louis’s expectant look, he continued. “The reason Harry called off the search is because your Uncle Percy told him to do it.�

“Wh-what . . . but, why?� Louis blinked in confusion. Either Bill was lying, or his uncle was affected in the head, which didn’t bode well for all of wizarding Britain. “She’s his daughter; he can’t give up on her.�

Fleur reached across the table to take Louis’s hand. “He did not give up on her. Not for a minute. He cannot ask the Ministry to use so much of its resources to find someone who does not want to be found.�

When Louis opened his mouth to object, Bill held up his hand and said, “Here me out.� Louis gave him a short nod. “The crime scene boys have been telling Harry for months that they didn’t think Lucy was abducted, but he wanted to find her so badly that he didn’t care. Finally, they submitted a complaint to the review board that stated Harry wasn’t acting objectively, which ended up on Percy’s desk. He looked it over for a month before he made the decision.�

“That’s why no one would talk to me,� Louis said under his breath.

Nodding, Bill said, “And you didn’t make it easy on them, either. None of them wanted to quit looking, not when you were willing to fight so hard to bring her back. Harry couldn’t even bring himself to see you, knowing he was lying to you. He tried, son. Believe me, he tried.�

Louis gaped. “You mean to tell me that they’ve known for over a year that Lucy just left the party? That she just fucked off somewhere?�

“Language,� Bill warned.

“I don’t care!â€Â� Louis plunged his fingers into his hair, pulling on the strands until the accompanying pain reminded him that this was really happening, that it was not just some sick joke. “How could she do that — just leave her family thinking she was kidnapped or dead?â€Â�

Fleur left her seat to wrap an arm around Louis’s shoulders. “It is difficult for her to see all of her family able to do magic and have no magic of her own. That is a very lonely way to live, and a soiree for her father, the Minister for Magic, will only make that feeling worse.� She leant her cheek against his. “Mon chou, I know it hurts, but Lucy was not happy and chose to leave.�

Pushing his mother away, Louis crossed his arms. “Then what about the broken glass, the beads on the floor?�

Bill exhaled heavily. “The scan of the scene revealed that there was no one there. No traces of another human being at all. Though it’s strange that she broke the window or the necklace, all the evidence points to her doing it herself. Now she’s not the Minister’s kidnapped daughter anymore; she’s just another teenage runaway. They can’t keep spending hundreds of man-hours finding someone who doesn’t want to be found, no matter how much we want them to.�

Louis said nothing. Nowhere in his conscious mind could he conjure words to describe his feelings at that moment. Lucy had left him, scared and worried and desperately hoping that she was all right. There was no note, no explanation, no indication that she had thought twice before breaking his heart.

He had almost thrown away his future for her, and she didn’t even care enough to tell him she was leaving.

With a scrape, he sent his chair flying backwards and stomped in the direction of his bedroom. “I’m going to have a kip.� He was not remotely tired at the moment, but he could not bear the thought of being conscious right then, his mind dwelling on Lucy and her abandonment.

Burying his face into his pillows, Louis hoped darkness would bring sleep and eventually some peace.

Later, Louis awoke from a dreamless sleep. It had been easier than he had thought to shut off his brain and forget everything for a while, and as he looked out the window at the sun sinking over the horizon, he judged that it had been a long while. He absently thought about Hogwarts and the first-years who were probably funnelling out of the Express and into the boats at that very moment and could not manage to care at all.

Hogwarts felt so young to him. It was the place where he was a child; that was something that was flattened into non-existence the moment he learned that Lucy had run away. The Head Boy badge, stagnating in the careless pile of school robes a mere few feet away, was a stark reminder of that. He could not even fathom caring about patrol timetables or fifth-years snogging in darkened alcoves.

He hoisted himself out of bed and looked around his room. A child lived there. The walls were covered with posters of musicians and athletes, and the floor with dirty clothes and scraps of rubbish. All of it was a cacophony of adolescence, and with more resolve than he’d felt for anything outside of Lucy in months, he pulled out his wand and began Vanishing it all, piece by piece. Soon, nothing remained in the room but the furniture, bedclothes, and a small basket of dirty laundry. No books, no Hogwarts robes, no badge.

The smell of food cooking met his nostrils, and Louis noticed the rumble of his belly, as he had not eaten since that morning. However, instead of giving in to the scent of sustenance, he crawled back into bed and pulled the covers over his head. He was too tired to eat.

At last, when Louis physically could not force himself to sleep any longer, he rose. It was well into the night, and the clock on the wall told him it was half past one in the morning. He turned on the overhead light, and the Lighting Charm washed through the room like sunshine. His trunk, he noticed, had made its way back into his room and was restored to its original size.

Louis decided that his purge wasn’t complete until every last inch of that trunk was inspected. He absently threw the clothing aside, as well as the sack of coins and his bedroll, and didn’t quit digging until he found a small box at the very bottom. It was an old jewellery box that had belonged to Audrey, Lucy’s mother, when she was a teenager. Audrey had given it to Lucy when she turned ten, along with a few childish accessories.

As he had suspected, Lucy’s prized butterfly hairclips were still fluttering limply inside, as well as a few other things that she had included the day she had trusted Louis with the safety of that box. It was her Forget-Me-Not box — her way of making sure that Louis never forgot that he was her first and best friend. And with a snarl, he hurled it at the naked wall.

The cascade of girly detritus sat untouched for an hour as Louis stared at it. He knew every bit and bob in that mess and could not bring himself to touch them, let alone relive the memories, yet they repeated themselves on a loop and held him captive. The one he couldn’t get out of his mind was a slip of paper, which had been folded and folded again so many times over the course of the past ten years. Lucy had told him that she’d read every word of it over and over until she could recite it from memory. And then in the previous year that she’d been gone, so had he.

I like you more than biscuits
And fancy you more than shooting stars.
No one else knows you like I do
Except this apple tree of ours.
You’re my best friend forever,
Who has been from the very start.
Never let me go, Lucy Mae,
And we’ll never be apart.

The awful poem he had penned at the ripe old age of ten still paraded about in his head. He had repeated it like a prayer since the day Lucy had disappeared, the words reminding him of how acutely he had cared for her.

Still unable to look away, Louis began to regret smashing the box and gathered its contents and shattered shell. It took several tries, but soon, the proper shape and colour was restored and its contents replaced. Even if a promise seemed not to mean all that much to Lucy, his vow to her to keep it safe was not something he was going to take lightly. He remembered the day he made it, because it had also been that day.

On their way back to The Burrow, the girl slipped her hand into the boy’s grasp and squeezed. He looked up at her, surprised, and she gave him a wide smile.

“I want to show you something,� she said conspiratorially. Without waiting for a response, she tugged him along after her until they reached the cider press shed. There were a couple of cushions situated around a small, decorated box. In flowing, purple script, it read ‘Audrey’, and at the bottom, in pink, ‘Lucy’ was written in a straighter, more uniform style. He would recognise her penmanship anywhere.

The girl opened the box, and two butterflies swirled out, twisting through the air in a large, elegant spiral before coming to rest in her outstretched palm. Next to come out were some small trinkets the boy had seen her wear from time to time, but at the bottom, there lay a piece of parchment. She pulled it out.

“Bet you forgot you gave that to me.�

He looked over the few lines of verse, recognising his own blocking writing, and cringed. “No, but I’ll keep trying.�

She frowned. “I thought it was beautiful. I remember every word of it.�

Deciding not to say anything, he set the parchment back into the box. She carefully replaced all of the items and closed it. Then she handed it to him and he raised a brow.

“I want you to keep this for me. It’s my Forget-Me-Not.� Smiling warmly at the object in his hand, she said, “We’re all going to change, and since I’m never going to be a witch, both of us will go in opposite directions. I want you to give this back to me when you think I need to remember where I came from and the people I care about.�

The boy was stunned at her words. His mind outside of school was on Quidditch and Chocolate Frog cards; she was thinking about forever. Who had time for the future with all that going on? With a gulp, he said, “I will.�

With a grin, she leant forward and brushed her lips over his. “Now swear it to me.�

“I swear.�

“I swear,� he mimicked from the distant memory.

Louis didn’t know much at the moment. He wasn’t sure who he was, where he was going, or what he wanted, now that Lucy had left that hole in his heart. But one thing was clear. He would give her back that damned box, whether she wanted it or not, even if he had to wait a decade to do it.

He returned to Hogwarts two days later, after an owl from his father explained that he needed some time to sort some things out. Louis also owled a request for a new Head Boy badge, stating that his had ‘been irreparably damaged due to a luggage handling catastrophe’. He did not expect to keep the position after what he had done, but he thought it prudent to address the issue rather than wait for the shoe to drop.

Bill had made him use his savings to purchase new school supplies, both as a form of punishment and a lesson in responsibility, as well as deal with using his sisters’ old robes. Louis didn’t mind and was surprised that his parents had not been angrier when they found the destruction in his room the next day, and maybe they understood how he felt after all.

A carriage met him at Hogsmeade, and he rode to the castle in quiet contemplation. Headmaster Flitwick wanted a word with him upon his arrival, as did his Head of House, Professor Longbottom. Louis couldn’t imagine he had much to say to either of them, but if he were to have a chance at all to salvage a decent NEWT year from such a terrible start — apparently, it had been a hundred years or so since a student successfully escaped the Hogwarts Express — he needed to save face.

The sounds of breakfast echoed through the entrance from the Great Hall as Louis proceeded directly to the Grand Staircase. He had no desire at all to eat, let alone deal with the inevitable slew of ‘where have you been?’ queries. Soon, he found himself at the door of the Headmaster’s office, which he had only visited once and just to deliver an errant student. He had never actually been inside.

“Flish and swick,� Louis said to the gargoyle guarding the entrance, patiently waiting as it stepped aside to reveal the spiral staircase. He was mildly jolted as the steps began to ascend on their own, depositing him onto a platform at the top in front of a massive oak door. With little hesitance, he reached up and rapped the large brass knocker and entered when the door swung open.

Headmaster Flitwick sat at his desk, examining a small, silver contraption with an absurdly large monocle, mumbling under his breath as he prodded it with his wand. It took him some time before he set down the object and gestured for Louis to sit down.

“Mr Weasley,� Flitwick started as he sat back in his own chair, “I suppose you have a good idea why you’re here right now.�

Louis nodded, and Flitwick’s chin bobbed in approval. “I don’t need to tell you that a stunt like the one you pulled on the Express doesn’t come without consequences. Not only did you cause quite a bit of damage to the train, you could’ve killed yourself.� Louis shrank down into his seat just a little. “Such actions are most unbecoming of our Head Boy, who, I might add, has been missing in action for three days.�

“Yes, sir,� Louis agreed. “I understand.�

“Good.� Flitwick leant forward. “That being said, after a long talk with all four Heads of House, we have decided to let you remain at your post, should you agree to keep your nose clean and not try anything foolish again.� The Headmaster pushed a small, polished box across the desk. “Professor Longbottom, in particular, had a lot to say on your behalf. Apparently, there has been a loss in your family?�

Trying not to shudder at the mention of Lucy, Louis explained, “My cousin, Lucy, disappeared over a year ago. They called off the search a few days ago because they determined she was a runaway and wasn’t worth the manpower. I was going to go look for her because she’s my best friend.�

“I see,� Flitwick murmured as he scratched his temple. “Well, we’ve all done foolish things for family and friends. Let’s try to keep such things to a minimum and be a good example for the younger students, yes?�

“Of course,� Louis agreed with a surprising degree of veracity. “Thank you for the second chance, and I promise I will live up to at least half of Professor Longbottom’s high praises.�

Flitwick chuckled. “Still a tall order, my boy. I’m afraid I’ve never been much good at those, at least not in the literal sense.�

Louis couldn’t help but chortle at the smaller man’s jab at his own lack of height, and as he was dismissed to see Professor Longbottom straight away, he felt unexpectedly good after speaking with Flitwick. A detention, or at least a scolding, was what he had expected; forgiveness and compassion had not been on the list of foreseeable outcomes.

Longbottom was where he always was: roving around Greenhouse One with a watering pot in one hand and his wand poised and ready in the other. Being in NEWT-level Herbology, Louis recognised most of the plants in Greenhouse One and knew better than to distract Longbottom while caring for the more troublesome plants. Instead, he waited outside the door for the professor to emerge on his own.

Ten minutes and dangerously close to the first lesson period of the day, Longbottom came out of the greenhouse, sweating, dirty, and sporting a small gash on his left arm.

“Razor roses or the sticulas?� Louis asked.

With a jump, Longbottom sighed in relief when he saw that it was Louis. “Merlin, you scared me. It’s like war in there, I tell you.� He looked dolefully at the ripped fabric of his robes and touched the spot with his wand, healing the wound. A second tap repaired the robe, and with a triumphant smile, Longbottom added, “And it was the sticulas. The razor roses got me yesterday.�

“They do like their human flesh,� Louis observed, growing increasingly uncomfortable with the banter that both distracted them from the purpose of the visit and further delayed Louis starting his first lesson of the day. Deciding to steer the conversation to point, he said, “Thank you, by the way, for putting in a good word for me with Headmaster Flitwick. You didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate it.�

Sighing, Longbottom started walking towards Greenhouse Four, where his office was located, and began mouthing words to himself as if rehearsing what he wanted to say. Finally, when they were inside, Longbottom pulled Louis into an awkward embrace. “Harry told me what happened with Lucy. I’m so, so sorry.�

Louis shook his head. “Don’t be,� he said bitterly. “She left us because she wanted to, and if it’s proven anything, it’s that if she wanted us to hear from her, she would’ve done.�

“Louis, it’s not that easy to communicate sometimes,� Longbottom said as he gestured towards the chair opposite his own. “Just because someone wants to tell you something, it doesn’t mean they have the means or opportunity. It took me ages to understand that my mum and dad loved me a lot, even though they never got the chance to say it.

“When I was young, I resented having to go see them sometimes because I thought they were in St Mungo’s because they didn’t want to be with me. Looking back on it, it’s a ridiculous thing to think, but sometimes, we can’t help how we feel. It’s just how we act on it that makes us good or bad people.� He gave Louis a tight smile. “Just think before you do next time, and we will never have to have this incredibly weird conversation ever again.�

A genuine laugh escaped Louis of its own accord, and with an inordinate amount of relief, he extended his hand across the desk and said, “Thank you, sir. I will.�

They shook hands, and Longbottom handed Louis both his timetable and a note for Professor Zabini to excuse his tardiness. The potions master was displeased by the interruption of his lesson but allowed Louis to take his seat and work double-time to finish the assigned potion by the end of the lesson. Pink sludge wasn’t what Louis had aimed for, but it was close enough to earn an Acceptable.

Relieved to have a free period between his double Potions block and lunch, Louis retreated to his dormitory to unpack. One of his roommates, Jamie Chattenham, was also in the room, glaring at his Charms book when Louis entered. The other boy could only stare at Louis as he methodically tucked his things away in their proper spaces.

Finally, Jamie spoke. “Where the hell were you?�

Louis shrugged. “I had family stuff.�

With a snort, Jamie said, “Some ‘stuff’. The Scamanders were talking about someone named Lucy, being gone and whatnot. She dead or something.�

“Family stuff, Chatterbox,� Louis bit at the short blond boy, unhappy that his least pleasant and most talkative roommate had decided to ask questions. “As in none of your business.�

“Sheesh,� Jamie said with a roll of his eyes. “Saw my head off, why don’t you. I was just asking.�

Swallowing a retort, Louis hurriedly finished his unpacking and fled the room while making a personal vow to never be in within ten feet of Jamie Chattenham without at least three people between them. He’d revise outside if he had to.

The rest of the week was a mesh of lectures from professors for missing classes, loads of make-up assignments, and curt excuses for his absence, but Louis admitted that being in a familiar routine felt good compared to the perpetual state of misery and sleep he had been in at home. Even Willie Cox was an improvement over staring at a blank wall and not showering for three days.

More quickly than he would have imagined, Louis found himself striving in his lessons, spending less time brooding by himself and more time complaining about monstrous essays with his classmates. He still wasn’t sure what was normal anymore, but if he had to choose something, that might have been it.