A Walk in the Woods

Alexandra didn't sleep well that night. Her nightmares about being tortured with the Cruciatus Curse made her groan and thrash around in her bed, and this time, it was her brother standing over her, yelling, “Crucio!”

It wasn't a good start to the day, and in Alchemy class, almost as if he could sense Alexandra's low spirits, Mr. Grue nitpicked her even more mercilessly than usual.

“Do not hack your potatoes up like you are making Muggle food, Miss Quick!” he bellowed, as she sliced away the leaves and eyes which would be used in their Andean Climbing Draught, and discarded the rest. “We are not frying Frenchmen in this class!”

She and David both started snickering, which was a mistake. Mr. Grue gave them detention, and to the delight of their classmates, told everyone else to leave their cauldrons unscrubbed on their desks. David and Alexandra were made to return to the Alchemy classroom after the last period of the day, and spent the afternoon scrubbing their classmates' cauldrons.

“So is it true you're dating Maximilian King?” David asked, as he tried to remove the charred remains of a Peruvian potato that Lydia Ragland had baked to the bottom of her cauldron.

“No!” Alexandra wrinkled her nose as she scrubbed Darla's cauldron, which was covered with sticky, hard-to-remove ooze. She didn't think it was anything that had even been part of their lesson that day. “Are you crazy? He's sixteen!”

“Scourgify!” David said, sticking his wand into Lydia's cauldron. He looked up at Alexandra. “You spend a lot of time with him.”

“What business is it of yours? What, are you jealous?”

David laughed. “You're dreaming! You think I'm into skinny white girls? No way!”

“Wow, that's a relief,” she retorted. “Since I'm not into nerdy short guys!”

David sputtered. “You're not taller than me!”

“Yes, I am.”

“You are not!” David scowled, and then his eyes twinkled. “But King is pretty tall.”

Alexandra scowled back. “I'm not dating anyone, you idiot! Especially not Max!”

“'Max,' huh?” he replied, with a smug grin.

Alexandra flushed, which made her even more furious, because she knew that would be misinterpreted “So who are you into?” she countered. “If you don't like skinny white girls, I guess you'd prefer Angelique!”

David flushed, and mumbled something unintelligible as he suddenly became very preoccupied with the bottom of Ebenezer Smith's cauldron. Alexandra raised her eyebrows. She refrained from pursuing the point, though; not so much out of consideration for David, but because she preferred moving the topic away from dating altogether. The fact that even her own friends believed she was dating an older boy, when she didn't have any interest in dating any boys, annoyed her more than her reputation for being a Dark wizard's daughter ever had.

They finished up with the Pritchards' cauldrons, which Constance and Forbearance had considerately cleaned themselves and thus required no more than a quick polish. Mr. Grue finally came back into the room, inspected the cauldrons, and grudgingly dismissed them. When the two seventh graders exited the Alchemy classroom, they found Maximilian waiting in the hallway.

“You've got stains on your sleeves, Quick,” said the Mage-Corporal.

“I've been cleaning cauldrons,” she replied sullenly.

“So I heard. Disrespectful to teachers in class, and poor maintenance of your uniform.”

“Yeah, I'll see you later, Alex,” said David. He gave Maximilian a smirk. “Don't discipline her too hard, huh?”

The Stormcrow frowned at the younger boy as he walked away, then turned back to Alexandra. “Can we talk?”

She looked away, biting her lip.

“Please?” he added, lowering his voice.

After a moment, she nodded, reluctantly, and began walking down the hallway with him.

“That wasn't funny!” she muttered.

He smiled. “Well, you shouldn't disrespect your teachers.”

“Did you know people think I'm dating you?” she whispered.

He ran a hand through his hair, and looked uncomfortable. “Actually, that's why I was late last night. Colonel Shirtliffe was counseling me.”

“Counseling?”

“About my 'extremely inappropriate' relationship with a younger witch.”

Alexandra's eyes widened. “Ms. Shirtliffe thought we're a couple?”

Maximilian looked around, reached inside his jacket, and muttered, “Muffliato.” Then he spoke in a more normal tone of voice, as he pushed his wand back into its sheath. “Apparently Dean Grimm didn't tell her about my father.” He looked down at her seriously. “I had to tell her that you're my sister. She was quite relieved.”

“Oh.” Alexandra frowned, and looked away.

“Does that bother you?”

She shook her head, then said, “I had to tell Anna.”

Maximilian sighed. “I figured you would eventually.”

“She thought that you're my boyfriend and that you've been beating me up.”

He snorted. “Chu has a depraved imagination.”

“Darla knows, too,” she said.

There was a long silence.

“She was listening at the door when I told Anna,” Alexandra went on, still looking away.

“Well,” Maximilian said finally. “That's unfortunate.”

Alexandra continued to frown, and still didn't look at his face, until she felt his hand on her shoulder. She stopped walking and pulled away, but looked at him at last. His expression was concerned; completely unlike the snarling mask of rage she'd seen last night.

“Touching me like that is why people think we're a couple,” she whispered, glancing around. She remembered belatedly that she didn't have to whisper, thanks to Maximilian's spell, but there were a few other students in the hall, and some were looking at the uniformed older boy and younger girl.

“You're right,” he said, dropping his hand. “I'm sorry. I hadn't considered how your reputation might be affected, by people misunderstanding our relationship.” He took a deep breath. “If you want to tell everyone, I'm prepared.”

She studied his face, then looked away.

“Alexandra?”

She didn't answer.

“You are angry at me.”

“What you did to Larry,” she said quietly. “That was terrible. I can't believe you did that.”

He was silent a moment, then answered, “What he did to you was unforgivable.”

“No, using an Unforgivable Curse is unforgivable!” Alexandra snapped, and then lowered her voice, looking around again. “How could you do that to someone after seeing... seeing what it does? I wouldn't do that to anyone, not even Larry!”

He reached a hand out again, and she turned away from him and walked rapidly down the corridor.

“Alex!” he called, and caught up to her in two steps. “I'm sorry,” he whispered. “I'm really sorry!”

“Tell Larry you're sorry.” She remembered a phrase she'd heard on TV: “You have anger management issues.”

“I have what?” he replied, confused.

Alexandra shook her head and kept walking.

“Do you really want me to apologize to that gnoll?”

She stopped and turned to face him again. “If I said yes, would you?”

Maximilian's gaze was inscrutable as he looked down at her. Then he answered, very slowly, “If that's really what you want.”

She sighed and closed her eyes. He sounded sincere, but she couldn't forget the sight of him, face twisted in fury, as he kicked Larry repeatedly, and Crucioed him without mercy.

“Promise you won't ever do anything like that again.”

“I'll do whatever I have to to protect you.”

Her eyes snapped open and she glared at him. “You didn't have to do that!” she hissed. “And I've gone my whole life without an older brother to 'protect' me!”

“All of twelve years, yes.” Maximilian smiled, in that infuriating way of his. “But you have one now.” He stopped smiling and looked more serious. “Perhaps I did lose control a little last night.”

“A little?” she repeated, in disbelief.

“All right,” he admitted, “I may have gone too far.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes.

“Are you determined to stay angry at me?”

“You're really a jerk, you know that?”

“So you've told me. Repeatedly.” The small, bemused smile was back. “Julia calls me –”

“A blaggard, yeah, whatever that means.”

“You two would get along.”

She shook her head. “What are we going to do about Darla?”

“I don't think we can do anything. I'll talk to her, but I'm not going to beg, or threaten. If she decides to be spiteful...” He frowned. “Frankly, until I met you, I dreaded letting the world know who my father is. Mother has tried to shield Julia and me, seeing what happened to Father's other children. But you seem to handle it well.”

Alexandra shrugged. “No one in the Muggle world knows who Abraham Thorn is.”

“But you're part of the wizarding world now,” he said. “And part of our family.”

He smiled as she stared at him.

“I'd like to meet your – I mean, our – sister someday,” she said, finally.

Her brother nodded. “I'd like that too, and I know she would as well. It will happen, I promise.”

Nothing happened as a result of their encounter with the freshmen boys – none of them reported the incident. When Alexandra saw them around school, Ethan and Wade avoided her gaze, and even turned around to walk down the hall in the opposite direction. They were apparently taking Maximilian's warning very seriously. Larry, who had been the one actually tortured, didn't flee from her presence, but his expression when he looked in her direction was neither angry nor fearful – it was dark and brooding and hard to decipher. She found it a little disturbing, but she had no wish to antagonize him, and she couldn't quite bring herself to go ask him if he was all right. And she knew it was unnecessary; of course he was all right. After all, she was all right, she told herself. They'd both survived the Cruciatus Curse, and it wasn't like they'd been afflicted with lasting injuries.

Alexandra didn't get to see Maximilian much outside of JROC during the final week of classes. Everyone was studying for their SPAWNs, as well as preparing their end-of-semester projects. For their Muggle Studies class, Constance and Forbearance had to demonstrate an example of Muggle entertainment, and were turning Delta Kappa Kappa Tau hall into a bowling alley in the evenings to practice, using their wands to keep the ball from crashing into walls or students.

Alexandra and Anna spent a lot of time in the library, with Anna writing copious notes on potion formulas and elemental weights for their Alchemy midterm, and Alexandra doing research for a two-foot scroll on the Wizards' Congress that was due in her Wizarding Social Studies class. It was terribly dull, and Anna frequently had to poke her to keep her from falling asleep. She did find it interesting that every book in the library had blanked out the name of the representative from Roanoke Territory who'd been elected in 1982. Almost as if they could erase her father from history by removing his name from books. She wondered if Bran and Poe were the ones who'd been assigned that task. She made sure to deliberately write Abraham Thorn's name all over her essay – she imagined Mrs. Middle would have a fit.

The final JROC drill of the semester was on a cold winter afternoon, the day before their SPAWNs. Ms. Shirtliffe had everyone dress in formal uniforms, and Sarah Wittencroft, a reporter and photographer for the school paper, was there to take pictures as they marched, flew in precise formations on their brooms, and performed one more set of wand drills. Even Anna gave it her best effort – mostly because she knew it was the last time she'd have to do it.

Afterwards, Alexandra saw Sarah talking to Maximilian, giggling flirtatiously as she asked to take a few more pictures of him and Martin. Alexandra rolled her eyes, and was about to leave with Anna – who was almost jumping up and down in her eagerness to go back to their room and remove her hated uniform for the last time – when Maximilian called, “Alexandra!”

Alexandra turned around, startled. Her brother never called her anything but “Quick!” in public. Most everyone else looked startled, too. Ms. Shirtliffe was watching, with her arms folded and her eyebrows raised.

Alexandra walked over to him, and asked, with excessive politeness, “Yes, Mage-Corporal King?”

She was shocked when Maximilian reached out and pulled her close to him, turning her around to face Sarah, with his hands on her shoulders.

“I'm about to give Miss Wittencroft a scoop,” he said. Then he leaned forward, and whispered in Alexandra's ear, “If it's all right with you?”

Alexandra licked her lips nervously, staring at the older girl, who had a camera in one hand, a Quote-Quill in the other, and an odd expression on her face.

“A little late to ask me now, isn't it?” she muttered. She turned her head to look up at Maximilian. He was looking down at her very seriously.

“Okay.” She nodded.

“Apparently, some rumors have been spreading around the school, about me and Alexandra,” Maximilian said to the school reporter.

Sarah blushed. “Oh, the Charmbridge Cheerer doesn't print gossip!” she stammered. “We're a newspaper!”

“Well, maybe you'll find this newsworthy enough to print,” Maximilian told her. “Alexandra is my sister.” And as Sarah gaped at him, he drew himself up proudly, and said, “You can print my birth name in the captions for my photos: Maximilian Thorn.”

Alexandra kept her face impassive, as Sarah gasped and then fumbled with her camera and nearly dropped her Quote-Quill. She took a picture of Alexandra with her brother, and then a few more pictures of Maximilian with his friends. Beatrice and Martin both winked at Alexandra, as they stood next to him. Maximilian's face was impassive too – but she thought she saw a trace of gratitude, as his two friends put their arms around his shoulders. And then they waved her over, and she felt embarrassed, annoyed, and secretly pleased as the three Stormcrows pushed her back and forth and ruffled her hair and teased her, as Sarah took more pictures.

“That's probably going to make the Chicago Wizard Times, not just the Charmbridge Cheerer,” Ms. Shirtliffe told them, after Sarah had left, with her pictures and her quotes. “Two children of Abraham Thorn at Charmbridge Academy.” She looked at Alexandra and Maximilian, and smiled slightly. “I'm glad you're not keeping it a secret anymore.”

“So am I,” Maximilian replied. “I'm tired of living in fear of my father's reputation. Alexandra helped me overcome that.”

Alexandra looked down, as her face felt inexplicably warm.

“Quick is an exceptional young witch in a lot of ways,” said Shirtliffe. “I hope you'll persuade her to stay in JROC next semester.” As Alexandra looked up, startled, the teacher nodded. “Dismissed.”

They both saluted her, and then looked at each other as Shirtliffe walked away.

“Are you going to sign up for JROC next semester?” Maximilian asked.

Alexandra shrugged uncomfortably. “I dunno.”

He nodded. “I'm not going to try to persuade you. But, I'd like you to meet me outside tomorrow night.”

She blinked. “Like last time?” She never had asked him why he'd wanted to meet her outside that night in the first place.

“Hopefully not like last time.” He shook his head. “Send your familiar out to find me first, and lead you to me.”

She frowned. “What for?”

“I want to show you something. In the woods.”

“You want me to walk with you into the woods, alone at night,” she said slowly. “To see something you won't tell me about beforehand.”

His expression was somber. His dark eyes reflected nothing back. He seemed to understand exactly what she was thinking. There were so many reasons for her to think this was a bad idea.

“Nothing will happen to you,” he said, very seriously. “You'll be with me.”

She looked up at him, her own face unreadable.

“Do you trust me, Alexandra?” he asked quietly.

And though what went through her head were all the times she'd seen Max's face contort with rage, his expression as he cast the Cruciatus Curse on Larry, and Anna's voice warning her that she was being foolish again, she nodded.

“Yes,” she replied.

He smiled.

Anna was sick with worry the next morning at breakfast, and Alexandra didn't dare mention what she'd be doing that night – her roommate was stressed out enough about their SPAWNs.

“You've been doing nothing but study for the last few weeks, Anna,” Alexandra sighed. “And you always score near the top.”

“But this is the seventh grade-level SPAWN!” Anna said anxiously. “It's a lot harder than the sixth grade-level SPAWN!”

“Yeah, and next year we'll have the eighth grade-level SPAWN,” Alexandra replied, spreading butter and jam on her toast. “That'll be even harder, right?”

From Anna's queasy expression, Alexandra thought maybe she shouldn't have pointed that out. “You'll do fine,” she reassured her, munching her toast. “Eat something.”

As usual, the worst part of the Standardized Practical Assessment of Wizarding kNowledge for Alexandra was the Alchemy section, overseen by Mr. Grue. She did fairly well on the written portion, but her Warming Potion burned Mr. Grue's tongue, and he roared and spat it out. Then he made her drink it, so the inside of her mouth was burned as well, and then he made her brew a Blister Tincture, while he used his own to treat his own tongue.

That's one 'Excellent' I won't be getting, she thought bitterly. Not that she thought Mr. Grue would ever give her a good score.

On either side of her, Constance and Forbearance (whom Mr. Grue had separated for the SPAWN test) were both looking quite worried as they tried to brew their own potions perfectly. They'd spoken of needing at least Excellent scores in Alchemy and Herbology to qualify for Advanced Alchemy I next year, which was a prerequisite for eventually taking classes in Wandcraft by the time they were in eleventh grade. Alexandra envied the Pritchards their ability to plan out what they wanted to study four years ahead of time; she still didn't know what she wanted to do next semester.

Her final practical test of the day was in Basic Magical Defense, administered, as usual, by Ms. Shirtliffe. Shirtliffe wasn't in her uniform, but looked no less formidable in teacher's robes, when Alexandra stepped into her classroom.

“So, Quick. It's been quite a semester, hasn't it?”

Alexandra nodded. “No one's tried to kill me, though. Unless you count Darla.”

Ms. Shirtliffe smiled wryly. “I'm glad you've maintained your sense of humor.” She drew her wand. “Well, after a semester of JROC drills, and your extracurricular activities with your brother – oh yes, I know about those – I expect you must be feeling a little more confident than last time?”

Alexandra narrowed her eyes, but she assumed Ms. Shirtliffe was talking about her dueling practice – she was sure the teacher couldn't know that she and Maximilian had been both involved in the Mors Mortis Society.

“Yes, ma'am,” she said, drawing her own wand.

They exchanged hexes for a full minute. Alexandra was unable to do anything to Ms. Shirtliffe, though she thought she was pressing her more strongly than she had last year. Then the older witch began throwing counter-curses at her. Alexandra tried to deflect them, but first her feet were rooted to the floor, and then Shirtliffe cast a Stinging Spell that made Alexandra's face feel like it was on fire, and then a Balloon-Hands Curse made her fingers swell up until she could no longer hold her wand, and it tumbled out of her hand.

“You're still much better at attacking than defending,” observed the teacher.

“If you curse someone before they can curse you, you don't need to defend yourself,” Alexandra countered.

“A good strategy if you're facing a Killing Curse... or other Unforgivables,” said Shirtliffe, with a grim expression. “But striking first and striking harder won't win in every situation. Learn to defend yourself, Quick. Or you'll never be able to defend anyone else.”

Alexandra wasn't certain just what lesson Ms. Shirtliffe was trying to teach her. She left her Basic Magical Defense practical feeling disgruntled, while she rubbed her face with her still-swollen hands.

Everyone was in a celebratory mood that night at dinner, though. Regardless of how they thought they'd done on their SPAWNs, they were done with tests until next semester. Constance and Forbearance wanted to go bowling; they suggested using the gymnasium, since Ms. Gale had forbidden them to send any more bowling balls rolling down school corridors. David agreed, to Alexandra's surprise, and so she and Anna agreed to go, too.

Alexandra brought her winter coat, planning to meet Maximilian afterwards, and she pulled Anna aside when they finished bowling and everyone else was returning to their dorms.

“Can you go back to our room and open the window so Charlie can get out?” she asked.

Anna stared at her, with an all-too-familiar look of dismay.

“Max wants to show me something,” Alexandra said. “I don't know what it is, but I'm telling you so you won't worry and you won't think I'm keeping secrets from you.”

“Oh, right, no reason for me to worry at all,” Anna replied.

“Anna, you worry about everything.” Alexandra gave her friend a hug. “I'll be fine with Max.”

Anna shook her head. “All right,” she sighed. “I'll let Charlie out.” She gave Alexandra one more worried look, before heading upstairs.

Alexandra put on her coat and stood just outside the gym, rubbing her hands together in the cold. Five minutes later, Charlie fluttered out of the darkness and landed on her shoulder.

“Alexandra,” the raven greeted her.

Alexandra smiled at her familiar. “Hi, Charlie.” She pet the bird's head, then said, “Will you go find Maximilian for me, please?”

The raven tilted its head, and seemed to give her a dubious look before taking off.

It was a dark, cold, December night. Alexandra shivered as she looked across the lawns at the deep forest beyond. She was glad she hadn't told Anna she was going into the woods.

Charlie returned only a couple of minutes later, and cawed at her from overhead. Alexandra began walking as the raven led her around Charmbridge's walls, and she found Maximilian by the fire pit, standing tall and square with his hands in his pockets. He wore a long cloak over his leather jacket.

“So where are we going?” she asked.

“Into the woods,” Maximilian replied. He gestured with his hand, towards the trees on the other side of the Quodpot field.

As they walked towards the forest, Charlie settled on her shoulder. “Why so mysterious?” she demanded.

“You'll see.”

“You know I hate it when people know stuff and don't tell me.”

“I know.” She was sure he was smiling, in the darkness. “You're going to call me a jerk again, aren't you?”

“Or a blaggard.”

He chuckled, which wasn't something he did often. They reached the edge of the woods, and heard rustling and clucking in the branches above. Alexandra knew that thousands of crows were roosting here for the winter. Charlie puffed up and made a warning, clacking sound.

“Shh. We're fine, Charlie,” she admonished. “They're just birds.”

Charlie squawked indignantly.

They walked silently for a while. The lights of the academy faded behind them, and Alexandra thought about all of her previous excursions into the woods – none of which had ended well.

“Max?” she asked.

“Yes?”

“Have you ever been Crucioed?”

He slowed to a halt, and turned towards her.

“Yes,” he replied, after a moment. She looked at him in surprise. There was a nearly full moon overhead, and some of its light shone on their faces.

He put a hand on her shoulder, and they resumed walking, a little more slowly.

“At BMI,” he told her, “everyone has to undergo the Cruciatus Curse in their senior year. We don't just have a final SPAWN; we have what's called the Final Trials. A week spent up in the Acadian forests or down in the Everglades, or somewhere else inhospitable, a few encounters with Manticores or wild Hippogriffs or some other dangerous beasts, and of course, lots of combat exercises. It's just a sample of the training you get if you join the Regimental Officer Corps after you graduate. And part of it is experiencing what the Cruciatus Curse is like.”

That sounded both exciting and horrible to Alexandra. “But you're not a senior.”

“Right, but we all know we'll have to go through it. No one wants to be the one who wets himself when it's his turn to go under the wand. So, there are always a few students who learn how to do it, and we practice on each other, trying to prepare ourselves.”

“You... Crucio each other?” Alexandra asked, appalled.

“To cast an effective Cruciatus Curse, you have to really mean it,” Maximilian said slowly. “You have to really want to cause pain. Since we're usually practicing with our friends... well, it's only a little taste of the real thing.”

Alexandra thought about that, as they continued walking deeper into the woods. Larry had screamed like he was getting more than a little taste. She shivered, and Maximilian must have felt that, through his gloved hand on her shoulder.

“We brag about who can go the longest without making a sound,” he said quietly. “But it's not like the real thing. And for our Final Trials, it's only a few seconds.” And after another long pause, he added, “Not as long as what you endured.”

His hand slid across her back, until his arm was around her shoulders and he was walking while holding her close to him, and it was such a strange and unfamiliar thing that she didn't know what to make of it, except that she had no urge to pull away. She was walking deeper into the dense, wild woods with a boy she barely knew, who claimed to be her brother, but who had a dark and dangerous side she didn't understand. And she wasn't afraid.

Charlie took off, making a loud crying sound in the darkness.

“Charlie?” she called out. “What's wrong?”

Maximilian slowed down. “I think...”

“What?”

He removed his arm from around her shoulders, and looked around. In the pale moonlight, she saw there was a small clearing ahead, where a very large tree had fallen, ages ago, and was now lying like a great dark barricade in their path. They heard a raven's loud screech, and Alexandra saw a black shadow moving atop the fallen tree trunk.

“Here.” He placed his hand in the small of her back, and exerted gentle pressure, without pushing her. “Go on,” he said softly. “This is the place.”

She looked at him questioningly.

“I'll be right here,” he promised. “It will be all right. Trust me.”

She swallowed. “I trust you, Max,” she said quietly. And she walked forward, into the clearing.

The dead tree trunk was even larger up close. It was huge. The top of it was high above her head, and she could barely see the raven sitting up there, until it leaned over to look down at her.

It wasn't Charlie.

“I recognize you,” she whispered.

“Alexandra,” croaked the raven, and it spread its wings and glided down from the tree trunk towards her. Its wingspread was immense – she guessed it was nearly twice Charlie's size. For a moment she thought it meant to land on her shoulder, and then it swooped by her head and passed her.

“She recognizes you, too,” said a deep voice behind her.

Alexandra turned around slowly.

The man standing there, at the edge of the clearing, was taller than Maximilian, and wore a long dark cloak that covered him completely, except for his head and one arm, which was now extended for the enormous raven to perch on. His dark beard and mustache were the same as in the photographs she had seen. Indeed, he looked very much like the picture she'd had in a locket that she had found and lost last year, among her mother's old keepsakes – perhaps just a little older.

Abraham Thorn raised his arm, and made a soft clucking sound with his tongue. The raven squawked and took off, flapping up to a tree branch overhead, where it settled and looked down on both of them. He lowered his arm and turned to her again.

“Hello, Alexandra,” said her father. He smiled. “I have been waiting so very long for this moment.”