++Paint It Black - The Rolling Stones, 1966

There's this tell-tale hitch in a conversation. Molly knew it well. It wasn't any sort of boast to say that it rarely came from her side - it was just who she was to find herself rarely ashamed of choices, no matter how questionable. It wasn't something you heard, it was something you felt. Like prepping for a step on a staircase that never came, or the strange sensation of a heart skipping a beat.

She felt it after Violet asked her question. And Molly's eyes flitted subtly towards Christian, who was too busy looking at Violet to notice. And Molly dropped her gaze before either could see that he had noticed... what. She wasn't sure what she had noticed, not for sure. But the fact that there was something to notice...

Weird.

So she pursed her lips and tilted her head to look back at her dragon drawing, completely unaware that another breed was about to storm into the library, belly full of fire.

The sub had called it quits pretty soon after Charlotte had left. A few had stuck around to use the room, but Ace found the note in her hand too bothersome to leave for later. So she packed up her things and slipped out of the classroom, angling towards the library, figuring she could finish up studying there.

She didn't get far when the urge overtook her and she was dodging into an alcove, and she was shakily opening up the note. Shaking from... irritation. Of course.

She blinked once. And then twice. And as her brow furrowed, she drew the note closer to her nose, as though that would help on her second read.

But the third time came around and she still didn't understand. Not entirely. But something she knew, had always known, was pulsating through her head, a strange reminder that had never unsettled her before.

Christian had other friends.

OF COURSE, he had other friends, you idiot, she mentally screamed at herself. Wasn't that sort of the whole point of making sure he kept leading Potter's Army? It was his easy way of people, his unchallenging presence and his ability to make people feel heard and liked that made him much better suited for the position of leader. If she led it, it'd be a monthly party of one. Of course he had other friends.

Why did it bother her that Charlotte was in that number?

It wasn't Charlotte that bothered her. Try as she might, she simply could not place what Charlotte was talking about. She knew she wasn't one to open up and share, but she still somehow suspected that little that was said about or to her would throw Christian off. He knew it all. Merlin, he had seen her parents in their jam-jams pajamas. There wasn't a thing out there that another classmate knew about her that Christian didn't.

When had she started to assume it was mutual?

When had she started caring?

She realized then that her feet had carried her from the alcove, hands had carefully folded the note along its creases, had plunged it into her pocket. And her hands were pushing the doors to the library and-

Heavens to Betsy.

She stopped short in the doorway and felt the sudden urge to turn around and head down to the Hufflepuff common room. Because of course he was here. And of course he was already surrounded with people again, one of which a person she had never seen him associate with - because what did she know, right?

But Molly had turned in her seat to stretch and her dark eyes had lifted and like tractor beams pulled her in, and Ace took a step forward-

-and in that step, she found herself settling on a sensation of irritation. Yes. That was good. Familiar. She knew what to do with that.

When she was mere feet from the table, Christian looked up and saw her. If he had anything to say, she didn't give him much of a chance. "Charlotte wanted you to have this," she said, dropping the note in front of him-

-and she kept on walking.

She hadn't exactly thought this out but she angled for the Potions section, figuring she could at least feign like she needed a book. She could find a book, hardly mattered which, and quickly get out of there. That was probably better than being irritated over nothing.

Christian found it absolutely impossible to focus. Not only because he was now apparently studying with both Molly and Violet, but also because he couldn't stop wondering what sort of mess Apollo and Ace were getting into back in the classroom.

Speaking of Ace..

He had glanced Molly's way, only to follow her gaze and find his fellow Hufflepuff heading their way. Christian sat up straighter, preparing to greet her as though nothing had happened. Surely she would rather not talk about feelings, after all of the awkwardness at Christmas. But she didn't seem quite like herself.

Taken aback, he turned in his chair to face her but only ended up staring down at the note she chunked onto the table in front of him. He looked at it for a moment, but then twisted to watch her go.

He frowned deeply, snatching the note and shoving it into his pocket as he pushed out of his chair to follow her. That left Violet to stare after him, squinting at the backs of the younger students and making an odd, almost hmm noise in the back of her throat.

His hand caught the end of the bookshelves as he walked, preparing to catch himself and slow down once he found her. When he did, Ace was already pulling out some book and clearly trying to focus on it. Christian just couldn't tell - or, decide, rather - if she was doing it to ignore him or because she actually wanted to look at it. And, if that were true, how did she find it so quickly? He always took ages trying to figure out where books were located in this place.

"Ace, are you alright?"

Wait. Shouldn't she have been asking him that question? Whatever. Either this was going to be a problem or it wasn't. And if he got off as he felt he should do, then it wouldn't be an issue at all and they could both pretend he hadn't just gotten upset about a dig that was actually intended for his confrontational brother.

Even if it did still sort of sting.

"What happened?"

Molly was left alone with Violet, left to hear the curious and almost suspicious hum reverberating from behind those plump limps. Again, it was interesting that Violet had an opinion, or could form one so quickly. Molly's own considerations were hesitant and doubt-ridden, but Violet seemed eager to form a thought on the matters. As though she had a personal interest in the events unfolding before her.

Molly could have asked. What's with you two, then? But she really didn't want to be wrapped up in that too.

Ace should have expected that Christian wouldn't have left it at that. Part of her must have known, but she couldn't be sure if she did it anyway in the hope that he didn't, or because she had wanted him to follow. Surely not the latter. What righteous anger she would have been afforded if he had not only stormed out on her and ignored her rage.

But, in truth, Ace had actually wished he hadn't even noticed. That'd make it easier. If he just couldn't read her mood, it might have made it more acceptable that he had stormed out mere minutes after someone in the class had hexed her.

"Yeah," she said, sliding her finger meaninglessly down a passage, not even bothering to look up at him. Somehow, it maddened her even more that he was asking. As if she'd be upset. Whatever. She had bigger problems. She was balancing establishing peace in magical society and trying to get all O's on her end of exams - and she was supposed to be bothered by him leaving class? Please.

All he had to do was tell her he was going.

"What happened?"

I came back for you. You didn't come back for me.

She lifted her gaze and looked straight at him, saw the slight concern tugging at his lips. She blinked and shook her head. "Nothing. The sub dismissed us. I needed a book."

#ChaceSavesTheWorld

Christian stopped a few feet away once he really registered what felt like anger rolling off of her. Something must have happened after he left. Merlin, help them all. He didn't even want to picture the state that she'd left that room in if someone-

Oh. Hm. That didn't sound right, but the way she looked at him actually made him take a step back. Christian couldn't recall a time that he had ever felt afraid of her, but he didn't think she had ever looked so... bland.

That wasn't Ace at all. She was a spark waiting to catch -- always. Whatever this was, he didn't like it.

"Oh." His face fell even further, his shoulders deflating at the same time. "Um, okay. Sorry. I'll... I'll leave you to it, I guess."

It probably sounded like a question, which was really how he'd intended it, but he started backing away and heading towards their table anyway. The only thing he realized too late, though, was that if she wanted to leave, she'd probably have to pass them again. Which wouldn't really be ideal for any of them. Wishing he hadn't just asked Molly if she wanted to come down here, he shook his head and turned fully around to escape the confinement of the shelves.

She hated herself.

He was leaving and her eyes read the same sentence over and over without actually taking in a single word because he had looked so disappointed and hurt but what had he wanted her to say? It was petty. You can't ditch without me. How could she blame him for not sensing her vulnerability when she spent every moment of every day denying her ability to be hurt? How could she be mad that he believed the lie she reaffirmed each day - that she was a pillar of strength and could not be shaken. He had always done exactly what she asked him to do.

And she had just dismissed him.

Her eyes closed, now certain that he couldn't see her, and she let out a breath.

He didn't deserve that.

She knew he didn't.

A little groan bubbled at the back of her throat as she closed the book, lifting it to rest her forehead against its smooth cover, slowly tapping it against her forehead. Hating this. Hating him. Hating herself.

She didn't hate him. She wasn't sure she hated herself, either. But Merlin she hated this. Why couldn't things just go the right way?

He had come back with them. When she and Frank showed up at the Leaky. He had swallowed his pride and come home with them.

Molly looked up as Christian rejoined them, and there might have been a trace of his disappointment still in his face, but she truly did not want to involve herself more than she had already. So she turned towards Violet and pushed her sketch towards her, asking why her Vipertooth's tail looked so wrong.

And there was a sudden thump.

Molly's head twisted to see Ace sitting in a chair, her large Potions book having been dropped unceremoniously onto the table. She looked a little surprised by the noise as well, her eyes betraying a rare startled look, before she busied herself with opening her book and fumbling with her papers. Molly looked towards Violet and lifted her shoulder in a little shrug, before glancing down to look through her book to find the picture she had been using to model the sketch.

And if Molly were the sort to smile, she might have hinted at one then.

As for Ace, she didn't exactly look happy to be there, and was now pouring over the Potions book (definitely one needed for NEWTs, not sixth year exams) hand making notes in her notebook.

But she was there. She could at least do that.

And maybe Christian would do her this favor and not make a big deal out of it.

When he sat back down, Christian fidgeted, his hands running down the side of his legs as he tried to shake off how weird he felt. But then he realized that she had left him something. His fingers found the note and pulled it out to read over it. Nodding a little to himself, he figured that if Ace ever got un-mad, they could talk about Charlotte wanting to join.

Jumping, he looked up when Ace dropped her things and sank into the seat next to him. His eyebrows lifted upwards - just for a moment - but she got to work so he blinked and looked down at his own book, brow furrowed.

Somehow, he wasn't sure what to do now. He had thought about asking Molly for help with their history research, but after Ace had gotten so mad about him correcting her, perhaps that wasn't the best plan. So he folded the note back up and stuck it between the pages before flipping through to find out more about the Goblin rebellion. Days later, the paper would still be sticking out of the same place, the edges crumpled and the actual paper itself forgotten despite his intentions to talk to Charlotte about the fact that she'd changed her mind.

Was it really his fault that he ended up forgetting until the party, with everything else that was going wrong? Still, in the moment, he filed away that knowledge and the fact that, actually, he was looking forward to talking to Charlotte quite a lot. And then he tried to take some notes.