Chapter 12: New school year begins

The month of August had been far more enjoyable than July in Rick’s opinion. For one, he had new school materials to immerse himself in, and he relished every second spent poring over them, particularly his new Potions textbook. Already, its margins were peppered with notes, observations, and cross references, a growing map of his curiosity. Between his trips to the apothecary and long hours browsing in Flourish & Blotts, Rick had uncovered several alternate techniques for ingredient preparation that weren’t mentioned in the textbook, each one promising a more efficient or potent result. He delighted in cross referencing these discoveries, mentally cataloging potential improvements, and treating the process more like alchemical artistry than homework.

He was so preoccupied that he didn’t mind Lily not writing back to him. Either by muggle post or by using Morrigan. He was saddened, yes but distracted so it was fine in his opinion. He had exchanged a few letters with Amelia in which they talked about mostly brooms or spells and those always put him in a good mood.

Closing his trunk after meticulously double checking that he had everything packed, Rick moved to the window and unlatched it with a quiet creak. Morrigan was already perched nearby, feathers slightly puffed in anticipation. She knew what day it was, the 1st of September, and that it was time for Rick to return to Hogwarts. Like the year before, she wanted to fly there on her own terms, refusing the indignity of being stuffed into a cage and stowed like luggage beside his trunk on the train.

Rick, however, had his doubts. The thought of her navigating all that distance alone didn’t sit right with him, and they’d had a long, silent standoff about it the night before. In the end, Morrigan relented, not without an indignant ruffle of feathers, after he promised that she would be free to travel with the train, winging alongside it and returning to him through the open compartment window whenever she pleased. She just needed to be with him at Platform 9¾ to start the journey together.

As she launched herself into the cool morning sky, Rick watched her go with a mix of admiration and worry. That bird had more stubborn pride than most people he knew.

He closed the door to his room with a soft click and began descending the stairs, not bothering to keep quiet. The second floor, like much of the orphanage now, felt hollow. The other children, just eight left in total, were quartered at the far end of the hall, their distant presence barely registering. Most of the rooms had gone silent, empty reminders of past occupants who had either aged out or found homes. Rick, now the second oldest, was a near permanent fixture. He had been there the longest, having arrived as an infant, a fact that gave him an unspoken authority and a peculiar loneliness.

He often wondered what it meant to be the one who remained while others moved on. Some had been adopted with fanfare, others had simply aged into adulthood and vanished from the halls like ghost stories finally exorcised. The current residents had only been there for a few years, four at most, and Rick knew at least two wouldn’t be around by the time he returned next July. One girl would turn seventeen and legally age out. Another, he’d overheard the caretakers whisper, was on the cusp of adoption. It was strange, bittersweet knowledge, like watching passengers disembark a train he was still riding with no final stop in sight.

Reaching the first floor, Rick exchanged a brief farewell with Miss Willson, his tone polite but brisk, already mentally halfway to the station. She wished him a safe journey, and with a nod, he stepped out of the orphanage and through the gates, trunk in tow. Like the year before, the walk to King’s Cross took just under an hour, his pace steady and practiced. Another ten minutes later, he was slipping through the barrier to Platform 9¾, where the scarlet Hogwarts Express hissed and shimmered in the morning sun.

Unlike last year, Rick didn’t pause to admire the train. The awe of his first journey had matured into a quiet familiarity. He moved straight toward an empty compartment, slid the door shut behind him, and settled in. From his bag, he pulled out Quidditch Through the Ages, the hefty book Amelia had owled him during the summer. She’d even gone so far as to ask her brother to cast a timed shrinking charm on it, just so Morrigan wouldn’t snap her spine trying to deliver it. The thought made Rick smile as he opened the book, ready to pass the wait immersed in broomsticks and match stats.

So far, his favorite part was the one he was reading, a delightfully bizarre chapter on the 1877 Quidditch World Cup, also known as ‘The Tournament That Nobody Remembers.’ The title was well earned: the event had been fully planned, tickets sold, teams confirmed, and souvenirs ready to bankrupt several wizarding families... and yet, not a single person remembered it. Not the players. Not the fans. Not even the folks who cleaned the pitch afterward. The only evidence that anything had actually occurred were some truly spectacular injuries and the now infamous tale of half the Argentinian team being found dead drunk, magically gagged and bound in the basement of a bar in Cardiff.

Rick’s eyes were locked on the book, fully absorbed in the wild speculations, time magic, mass Confundus, poltergeist prank gone wrong, when he suddenly heard his name being shouted like a warning bell. He barely had time to glance up before a dark red missile collided with his chest and arms wrapped around him like a Bludger of affection. Neurons fired, his brain caught up, and he realized: Lily. It was Lily, launching herself into a full contact greeting hug.

A year in, and Rick still hadn’t figured out how to handle these. His body defaulted to 'defensive stiff plank' mode, while his soul quietly panicked. He liked her hugs, he just didn’t know what to do with that knowledge. He hadn’t quite mastered the art of hugging back without overthinking it like he was defusing an emotional bomb.

“How about you let him breathe, Lily?”

Looking up, Rick spotted Marlene standing in the doorway of the compartment, leaning casually against the frame with a smirk tugging at her lips, clearly amused by Lily's full throttle entrance. Said redhead, now disentangled from Rick’s ribs, took a half step back with a sheepish grin and a noticeable blush warming her cheeks. It was the kind of blush that said, yes I just tackled my best friend like a Bludger and I stand by it, but also, oops.

“Rick doesn’t complain, him.” She replied with a glare of her beautiful green eyes.

“I’m pretty sure you broke me a rib or two.”

“Hello to you two. How was your holiday?”

“Great! Father brought mother and I to the colonies, it was awesome!” the blonde witch answered as she put away her trunk above the compartment’s seats.

““Colonies?”” asked two confused muggle born.

“In America.”

“Do you mean the United States?” ventured Rick.

“The what?”

It was now Marlene’s turn to wear the crown of confusion, her brows furrowing as she stared at her friends. Rick and Lily, meanwhile, locked eyes and burst into laughter with the synchronized glee of two conspirators who'd just cracked an inside joke. Their amusement filled the compartment like a charm gone pleasantly rogue, while Marlene remained adorably lost in the historical time warp she'd triggered.

“What’s so funny?”

“Marlene, the colonies declared their independence nearly two hundred years ago.” Lily filled her in.

“They’re called the United States of America now. They went from thirteen colonies to fifty states, going from the East to West coast. At least for the muggle world. Is it perhaps different from the magical one?”

“No, that's the same. We just called them the colonies not… what you said.”

“Are they still part of Magical Britain?" Rick inquired, making Lily’s eyes widened in shock.

“That would be huge!”

“No, they are their own country, separated from us.”

“So it’s just Magical Britain that called it the colonies when they are not colonies anymore. That’s weird.” commented Lily.

“It’s how it is.”

Marlene gave a small shrug and dropped into the seat opposite Rick with casual ease, her blonde hair bouncing slightly as she settled in. Lily, without hesitation, slipped into the spot beside Rick like it was her natural habitat, grinning as she nudged his shoulder in greeting, her earlier blush still faintly visible but fading fast.

“What about you?”

“My family and I went to visit my grandparents in Ireland for the month of August. Well… More like Petunia and I did the whole month. My dad could only take a week of vacation. On one hand it was great, they live on a farm, on the other hand, I couldn’t do anything magical and they are very religious. Burn the witch at the stake religious. My parents didn’t allow me to take any of my stuff. I was barely able to do my summer homework when I came back!” she said with a sad pout on her face.

“Of course you’d think about homework during the holiday, you brainie.” the blonde witch teased.

“Hey! There is nothing wrong in liking learning things!”

“Yes!” Rick supported.

“Please, Rick, I bet you did nothing but study this year's entire curriculum.”

“Not true! I went to the library.”

“You’re kind of proving my point.”

“Muggle library! And I corresponded with Amelia.”

A sudden flash of remembrance lit up Lily’s eyes, like a spell triggering mid incantation, and she swiveled toward Rick with an urgency that made both Marlene and Rick straighten up a little, bracing for either trouble or trivia.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t answer your letter! I wrote one but realized that I didn’t have your address! I rank first by the way!” she said with a proud and a bit of a smug smile.

“Me too.”

“What?! That’s impossible! There can’t be two first place!”

“What are you talking about?” a quizzical Marlene said.

““Our year rankings.””

“You both ranked first? Congratulations! I’m not surprised though.”

“How well did you do?” Rick asked.

“13th! It’s the History of Magic that brought me down! Got an Acceptable.” the heiress said in annoyance.

While Rick and Lily chuckled, they were genuinely proud of her for pulling off a passing grade in the one subject that seemed tailor made to bore her into a coma. The fact that Marlene still managed to land 13th overall, despite only scraping by in History of Magic, spoke volumes about how well she must’ve performed in her other subjects. Clearly, her classroom chaos was paired with some serious academic firepower where it counted.

“Got an O in Potion thanks to you, though. Your tips were really helpful.”

“We’re happy for you, Mar.” Lily said.

“Me too!” she answered with a smile then frowned. “Father wants me to make the top 10 now.”

“That’s not that difficult to achieve. History of Magic aside, you can improve in the classes you got an E.”

“Charms then. Not sure I could get better than E in astronomy or herbology. How about you? You both ranked firs-”

“I contest that!”

“-st, so how many Outstanding you got?”

““Eight.”” both muggle born answered as if it was an obvious thing.

It was with the sort of deadpan expression usually reserved for life altering disappointment or discovering soggy toast that Marlene muttered, “Of course, eight.” The weight of inevitability in her tone was practically audible. As her eyes drifted downward in theatrical defeat, they landed on the book sitting on Rick’s lap.

“I thought you weren’t interested in Quidditch?” she pointed at the book for Lily to see.

“I’m not. I’m interested in flying and beating Amelia.”

“So you’re going for the tryouts?”

Lily had half a mind to scold him right then and there, Quidditch was brutal, and Rick, for all his brilliance, flew like someone who hadn’t read the word 'consequence' in a dictionary. But she bit her tongue. As much as she wanted to keep him grounded and safe, she also knew the sky was the one place he looked truly free. She couldn’t take that from him, not when the wind and altitude lit him up in ways she rarely saw on land.

“Be careful, okay? I don’t want to go visit you in the infirmary.”

“I will.” he replied in reassurance and with a soft smile. “I still need to make it. No matter what Longbottom says, me joining the team is not a certainty.”

The train departed King’s Cross at 11 a.m. sharp, its familiar whistle echoing across the platform as steam billowed into the crisp morning air. Inside their snug compartment, Rick, Lily, and Marlene relaxed into their seats with the ease of seasoned travelers. Marlene launched into more tales from her trip to the States, vividly describing magical mishaps in American wizarding schools and a near incident with a rogue thunderbird feather. Lily followed with stories from her grandparents’ farm in Ireland, endless fields, mischievous goats, and the frustration of not being allowed to use magic even to weed the garden.

They meandered through a dozen conversations, chatting about everything from favorite spell casting styles to wild predictions for the upcoming school year. Excitement buzzed beneath their words, fueled by rumors of a new DADA professor, speculation about upcoming Quidditch tryouts, and the subtle thrill of second year status. Their compartment became a bubble of laughter, curiosity, and shared anticipation, the sort of comfort that made the hours of the journey slip away unnoticed.

At some point, Lily excused herself to speak with Severus, and returned fifteen minutes later looking as if she'd swallowed a Pepper Up Potion and it had detonated on impact. Her face was flushed an alarming shade of crimson, nearly indistinguishable from her hair. Marlene and Rick didn’t need to ask, they knew that look. It was Lily’s patented fury mask, reserved for only the most spectacular offenses. And really, there was only one person in the school capable of provoking her to this point. A rare feat, considering Lily, despite the redhead stereotype, wasn’t prone to outbursts. Heiress and orphan exchanged a glance that said everything: Potter again, wasn’t it?

“What did he do, this time?” asked Marlene.

“I don’t want to talk about that toerag!”

The venom in her voice was expected, and Lily, still simmering, stormed over to the far end of the compartment and yanked out her Charms textbook like she meant to hex it. She opened it with the kind of force normally reserved for cracking knuckles or battle grimoires. Five minutes later, her eyes had scanned three pages and absorbed none of it. With a frustrated exhale, she slapped the book shut and glanced over at her friends. To her surprise, Rick and Marlene were deeply engrossed in a card game, a Muggle one, no less. That was enough to momentarily short circuit Lily’s irritation. Her curiosity piqued, she subtly shifted closer, her posture still dignified, but her attention now thoroughly hijacked by the oddity of her roommate dealing cards like she did it every weekend.

“What are you playing?”

“Old maid.” replied Rick.

“It’s going to be old bachelor soon!” interjected Marlene with a frown on her face and picked up a card from Rick’s hands. “Merlin’s balls!” she exclaimed while Rick snickered.

“Not with your luck.”

“Stupid muggle game!”

“It’s a fun game. When you win.”

With only two cards left in her hands, Marlene gave them a dramatic shuffle, her eyes gleaming with faux mystery. She presented the cards to Rick with all the ceremony of a high stakes poker dealer. Rick raised an eyebrow and slowly extended his hand. Just as he was about to pick the left card, he caught the slight twinkle in Marlene’s eye, a barely contained burst of mischief. With a sly grin, he redirected and plucked the right one instead, leaving Marlene groaning as if he'd just undone a week of careful planning.

“Noooo!”

The sheer despair in Marlene's voice when Rick took the final card and completed his last pair nearly made him snort with laughter. Her dramatics were so genuine, it bordered on theatrical. Grinning, Rick scooped up the cards with an easy flourish, giving them a smug shuffle while Marlene muttered dire warnings about vengeance under her breath.

“Can I-”

Lily paused mid sentence as Rick casually slid a card her way, a silent gesture that pulled her into their circle without a word. The simplicity of the inclusion made her smile, the storm in her earlier mood easing like a charm. With an amused quirk of her brow, she accepted the card and, to both her friends’ surprise, asked a question that caught them completely off guard.

“How do you play this?”

“You don’t know?”

“What Rick said.”

“No. I’ve never played cards before.”

“Well, it’s simple…”

After a quick rundown of the rules, simple, straightforward, and delivered with the kind of cheerful clarity that masked her competitive instincts, Lily proceeded to absolutely annihilate them. Again. And again. And again. Her smug grin only grew with each round, leaving Rick and Marlene floundering in a sea of increasingly desperate strategies and last ditch card swaps.

“HOW?!”

“Beginner’s luck, Marlene. Beginner’s luck.” Rick grunted.

“I’m just that good.” a very smug Lily replied.

“WHY AM I ALWAYS THE OLD MAID?! THAT GAMES SUCKS!”

“What game?”

Marlene dramatically collapsed into Lily’s chest, groaning in despair as if she’d just lost the Triwizard Tournament rather than a game of cards. Lily, trying not to laugh, gently patted her on the back like one might soothe a toddler after a minor injustice. At the same time, Rick turned his head and spotted Amelia standing at the compartment’s door, watching the scene with a raised eyebrow and barely concealed amusement.

“Hello, Amelia.”

“Hello to you all.” the fourth year redhead greeted back going inside the space the trio shared.

“We’re playing Old maid. It’s a muggle card game.”

Amelia glanced at Marlene, who was currently in full sulk mode, arms defiantly crossed under her chest, lower lip jutting out in a picture perfect pout. She had originally come to find Rick, but the sight of this dramatic little card based crisis had piqued her interest. Whatever game they were playing, it clearly had emotional stakes, and that alone was worth investigating.

“Want to play?”

Thinking it over for a moment, Amelia gave a short nod and gracefully settled into the seat next to Rick, curiosity glinting in her eyes. Rick shuffled the deck with the casual confidence of a seasoned dealer while Lily launched into a brisk explanation of the rules, her tone bordering on competitive cheer.

Marlene, now reinvigorated by the addition of fresh blood, sat up straighter and cracked her knuckles with theatrical flair. “Not today,” her expression seemed to say. For once, the odds finally tilted in her favor, though just barely. The last round came down to a tense showdown between her and Amelia, each drawing cards with the solemnity of wizards preparing for a duel.

In the end, Amelia drew the wrong card, sealing her fate. A stunned silence fell for half a second before Marlene exploded into delighted glee.

“YES! Who is an old maid~? Who is an old maid~? Not me! YOU!”

The blonde witch broke into a triumphant, seat bound victory dance that involved finger waggles, exaggerated shoulder shimmies, and a chant that grew increasingly off key. Rick and Lily were thoroughly entertained, their laughter only encouraging her flair. Amelia, the freshly crowned Old Maid, merely sighed with a rueful smirk and gave a half hearted golf clap, taking her loss with the kind of graceful indifference that only made Marlene dance harder.

“I suppose so, for now. That’s an interesting game, though not as exciting as an exploding snap.”

“I like having all my fingers, thank you.” Rick commented.

Not one to let a single defeat define her, and admittedly enjoying herself far more than she’d expected, Amelia stayed on to play a few more rounds. The game had morphed into a whirl of gleeful rivalry, strategic card swapping, and exaggerated gloating. It was during one particularly intense match, Marlene already warming up a victory chant, that their fun was interrupted by the sudden arrival of Frank Longbottom, who had apparently been tipped off that the elusive Hufflepuff witch was holding court here.

“Bones! Are you- Hey! Wald!” He interrupted his own tirade when he saw Rick next to Amelia. Giving a quick look around he saw Marlene and Lily and greeted them too. Then he went back to say what he wanted to say.

“You may have earned first place last year, Bones but it’s mine this year!”

“Sure.” the witch replied without really paying attention. She picked the ten of clubs from Lily and frowned since she didn’t have the ten of spades.

“And Gryffindor may not win the quidditch cup but they won’t lose against Hufflepuff.”

“Half your team is gone, Longbottom. Even with Rick joining Gryffindor’s quidditch team would you still be in fourth place.”

“Wait! You’re joining?” the fourth year boy asked in exclamation.

“I’ll participate in the tryouts.”

“That’s-”

“Merlin’s… why did I lose again?!”

“Because you’re an old maid, Amelia. The shoe fits the foot.” teased Marlene smugly. That made Frank snort and his rival gave him a murderous look.

“You think you can do better?!”

“Of course.” he said with confidence despite having no idea what the game was.

“Oh, really? Then take a seat, Longbottom.”

Half an hour later, Frank trudged down the train corridor like a condemned man on the way to Azkaban. His shoulders slumped, his eyes avoided contact, and his dignity was somewhere back in the card pile. The final insult hung from his neck like a cursed amulet: a hand lettered board declaring in large, unforgiving script, I am an Old Maid. Every compartment he passed erupted in laughter or smirks, and more than one first year asked if it was some kind of Hogwarts hazing ritual. Frank didn’t answer.