That didn't... go well

The events of the train swirled around her as she stood uncertainly on the Hogwarts Express platform, seemingly incapable of understanding where the rest of the train had gone. Her heart was pounding heavily, mind racing, but she looked blank as she wavered on the platform, trunk slowly slipping from her fingers.

The rest of her coworkers had immediately twirled into action, speaking fast and moving quickly. She didn't even know where to start, didn't even know how. How did a train just... disappeared?

Oh... Merlin. Her cousins were on that train.

She spotted Declan's face from across the crowd but she couldn't move, couldn't reach him. Her mouth was open ever so slightly, and she shook her head. At a loss.

What had happened?

Declan hadn't really known he would be at the train station until a couple of days before. A rogue visit that turned into an overnight on Dom's part - as usual, really - had led to their plans for the day: lunch after her arrival at Kings Cross, and then he would help her unpack whatever she had brought home. That is, if she asked him to or agreed to his offer. He hadn't made that suggestion yet. But that was mainly because, despite everything, he had never seen her place. He felt bad for wondering but with her new plans for culinary school, did she even have a place besides Hogwarts? He couldn't fault her for that really, but it worried him nonetheless.

He had almost arrived late, but was glad to find that he had made it through the barrier and onto the platform just in time to catch the train's whistle. Something about it sounded off, but he couldn't place it. He hadn't gone near the train since his last trip home after seventh year, but Declan immediately knew that the train was meant to be vastly larger than it appeared to be once it came to a stop. An engine and one carriage? No. Nonsense.

He was staring up at the empty track in front of him, sufficiently dumbstruck, when he realized that Dom had been on that train. Where the hell was she? Whose carriages were gone, and how many of them? His eyes flicked around the platform desperately, like so many others', until finally, there. Dom. Safe but looking fully terrified. He definitely couldn't blame her. His heart rate didn't slow, even as he shoved his way recklessly through a crowd of wizards who all could have done him in without much of a fight in retaliation. It didn't slow as he reached her or grabbed her shoulders to pull her attention to him, or as he looked her over in a style mimicking so many others without his knowing it. It didn't slow until he found her gaze and realized how lost she was, and registered that today, it was on him. Sometimes she could carry him, but today she didn't have a chance.

"Dom?" He asked, loud enough to hopefully spark her attention. "Where are your cousins? Where's Vic?"

Realizing that those might be useless questions, he shook his head before changing direction. "Sweetheart, are you okay? What do you need?"

And there he was. Staring at her with just as much shock, just as much uncertainty, and then there was a flicker of worry as he fully took her in. And he was rushing towards her and she couldn't even move, just slowly turned to take in the train once again. Her throat was dry, her bones felt hollow, and her brain just could not catch up, could not take in this new reality.

This wasn't reality. This was fake. This was a dream.

But then Declan's hands were on her, bringing her crashing down to earth, pulling her into some sense of Real. His voice reached her, piercing through everything else, and her distant eyes suddenly blinked and connected with his, like waking up. She shook her head, not sure how to explain.

"I don't- there was a bang, but then we were here and it's just our compartment-" He was asking about Vic and her heart immediately seized, before her brain reminded her that Victoire had been in the staff compartment with her. "She's- she's fine. All the staff made it here. There weren't Death Eaters or werewolves- it just jolted..." She swallowed. "Molly was on that. And I think Alice? Oh god, Clem, and Lucy- where are they?"

He asked what she needed, and she searched his face as though it had the answer. And then her panic turned over on itself, determination taking it instead. "We need to find them. We need to search the tracks! We need to make a search party! We have to find them, Declan!"

[Ooc: when Dec spoke in this post I suddenly remembered that it was with an Irish accent and that basically made my day.]


For all of two seconds, Declan wondered what it would have been like if he had stayed at Hogwarts for another year. But he wasn't even remotely qualified, and that silly idea to teach the students how to cook, which - actually, maybe that wasn't so silly for the ones who were spending a year at Ilvermorny. He had heard from that Prophet writer girl that the students at Ilvermorny might be going without food. A student had sent in a letter talking about it but they hadn't made the information fully public as far as Declan knew. But he didn't exactly read the papers very consistently.

His fingers drifted along her sides as she fretted, unsure how to settle someone in a moment like this. Despite all of their arguments and issues, he just didn't understand how he could possibly fix it. He was no one, wasn't he? No matter his position or his experience, neither would do him any good, it seemed. Not where she was concerned. So he just listened.

But then she reigned her thoughts in somewhat and turned to him, declaring that they, the both of them, needed to help. We. As in, she wanted his help this time. Try as he might to deny it, a residual wave of discomfort crashed into the back of his mind as thoughts of Roxi and Lily surfaced without his asking them to. With them came the question: where was Danica, and what lies were being fed to her by Roxanne?

But 'we.' Declan could work with 'we.' In fact, the concept was thrilling. He knew full well that he would more likely be a side character in the detective novel that was going on around them already, and actually had the distinct possibility of being a hindrance at some point. But a thought struck him that he decided immediately he needed to keep to himself, and he reached both hands up to take hold of her shoulders.

He wanted to just kiss her right there, as his train of thought was suggesting he should, but there were more important things happening in the world. His own assumed personal victory could be celebrated quietly, internally. No matter how blisteringly happy he felt for a moment there.

"Dom, breathe. We'll help, obviously, but -- we have to be rational about this. We should find people who are working on this if you want to be involved. I'm- I'm pretty good mates with the bloke that's leading the Order," he added under his breath, stepping closer. Even though the platform was a typically safe place, at times like these he didn't trust it. "Do you want to talk to him? I don't think he's here, actually," he clarified, glancing around. When he turned his gaze back on her, Dom's fear cut into him again and he frowned. "Do you want to go find him, or stay here and see what we can do? It's a safe bet that someone around here is getting ready to dig about."

((<3))

This was perhaps the first time in which Declan’s closeness and his affectionate touches did not make all the bad things go away. So often, all of the problems were so wrapped up in her own issues about labels and relationships that it just took the reminder of what she had before her to soothe all of the troubled seas brewing beneath her quirky exterior.

But this was nothing that could be solved by any one person. Unless Declan could wave his wand and make the train materialize, she could not escape this frantic, helpless feeling, her pounding with the effort of being left without hope.

Still, there was something wholly refreshing with having someone promising to stick with her, taking her seriously, validating how she felt.

She reached out and gripped his fingers absent-mindedly, squeezing to let him know that despite all of the churning unpleasant emotions within her, despite the distance in her face and in her body, she was really glad he was here.

Declan mentioned the Order and her face immediately lit up a bit. “Oh you mean Oli-“ It suddenly struck her why he was being so discrete, so she twisted the words. “Oli…garchical vigilante societies… Right.”

Woah. Okay.

Also, did Declan know she was in the Order? No matter how loose her affiliation was?

“I know him,” she said, nodding, her expression significant. “I want to do that, yes, he could help. But first…” And she knew it sounded crazy. “I want to find Victoire.”

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Declan's eyebrows lifted at her recognition of the man in question, but a laugh overtook that expression of shock, coming out as a snort. His hand found its way to her cheek as he shook his head, half wondering if he needed to be more concerned about the wellbeing of his not-girlfriend than he realized. But it sounded like he was going to get to be involved this time, as he had registered previously, so perhaps he could worry less and do more instead.

He grinned at her dramatic nod, the expression entirely out of place for their surroundings. He stopped himself, trying to be as serious as the men and women around them. Her request put things back into perspective quite effectively.

"Of course," he agreed right away. "Of course, I'm sorry."

Declan leaned forward, pressing a brief kiss to her lips before drawing her against his side and resting his arm across her shoulders. "Of course," he murmured again. Then he turned the pair of them towards the train, eyes out for a pale, undoubtedly wide-eyed blonde. He couldn't help but wonder if Erik would show up, and actually hoped he wouldn't, but it mattered more that she was okay so Dom could be partly okay. Okay enough.

And after that, he would do whatever it took to make her happy again. Declan knew he wasn't enough on his own, but that was something he had come to accept. With them, it didn't need to be like that. They needed more than just a relationship to feel sorted and accomplished, particularly with Dom's preferences as to their arrangement. But he knew that if he tried hard enough he could uncover the pieces that it would take and match them back together.

"Vic?" He called out, trying to gaze over shoulders and past groups in order to find her.

Clucking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, Victoire Weasley hopped down from the train, her hand catching hold of one of the rails by the door as she belatedly became aware of the gap between the locomotive and the platform edge. One foot dangled, dipping off of the side and her arms tensed as she dabbed her foot about, searching for terra firma. She opened an eye that she had squeezed shut reflexively, and looked down to find both feet planted firmly on the platform. She exhaled and shook her head before pushing herself away from the train and, lastly, unwinding her fingers from the rail.

Leaning back into the corridor briefly, Victoire dragged her bag out of the train and slung it over her shoulder, intent to leave but unsure of her destination as she plunged into the crowd that was beginning to throng together, made up of equally hysterical parts. Ideas were being flung around, contingency plans being rapidly made. Victoire was sure she spotted the Minister himself on the platform and, for a moment, was cynically tempted to inform him that his deputy had gone off with the headmaster, along with a cross-section of the latter’s staff. Was this shock? Victoire wondered. She turned a bit, glancing over her shoulder to check if she was going mad. No, not mad. There was no train.

Swallowing, Victoire turned back around and pushed back through the crowd, determined to get towards the archway and onto the Muggle side of the station. From there she would make her way towards the nearest Portkey point and perhaps get the closest one home. Not Hogsmeade, home, either. Home home. Home to her parents and to home comforts. She conceded mentally that she hadn’t visited her grandparents, lately, either. Both sets, in fact, she’d neglected to see regularly. But before she could, she heard a voice. A familiar one, too. One which only served to promise the addition of another.

Victoire stopped, contemplating announcing herself, caught between that and pushing on with her original plan of escape and not returning. She had no idea if she wanted a cup of coffee or a glass of red wine but she knew she didn’t want this conversation. She didn’t want to play the reassuring elder sister or whatever role she had to in order to make it through an interaction with her sister. It only then occurred to her that their cousins had been on that train, excited for another year of school. Now, they were God only knew where and Victoire … her stomach coiled with guilt… she’d not concerned herself to care. She’d been selfish. Merlin.

Swivelling round on the balls of her feet, Victoire pushed back in through the crowd, heading towards where she could see Declan. She clenched her teeth, urging every step on, knowing that if she wasn’t deliberate then she very much stood the chance of turning and fleeing from the station entirely. Her mind conjured the option of changing her name, becoming a potioneer and moving to Berlin. It wasn’t a fate she was altogether opposed to, either, much to her dismay. It wouldn’t take too long to get there either … no. No. Focus, Vic.

“I’m here!” She exclaimed, holding up the hand that wasn’t coiled around the strap of her bag. She surprised herself by arriving somewhat breathless to proceedings, her face flushed. Perhaps it was her reluctance, manifesting into fatigue. She hoped so. “I’m here,” she repeated more softly, dropping her hand back down to her side as she settled herself before them. “Are you alright?” She asked generally, not really addressing either of them.

Dom knew there was no logic behind her sudden need to see her sister, besides the comfort of a face that was family, that not all was lost. Her parents were at home, and many of her cousins in their own flats. Rose was tucked away back home, Louis running out and about. But Victoire had been on the train, and Victoire had always been the sister more in the know, had always understood what the grown ups were going on about while she was left in her ignorance, with no one who thought it worth to explain it to the little blonde middle child.

She knew that Victoire wouldn't have any answers, knew she might be just as frightened as Dom, but she felt an instinct bred into her by the Weasley genetics - when in doubt, there is always family.

Declan found Victoire and Dom felt an inordinately large wave of relief take over her. She felt like one little mission was accomplished and, therefore, all could be not lost. If she could get at least this much control at least...

Dom shook her head. "We're okay, we're both fine, but... but Molly, and Lucy, and Neville's daughter- and, I mean all of them! Where are they? What're we supposed to do?"