Chapter 17: Deep Talk

Rick had been utterly horrified when Marlene and Lily filled him in on the reason he had landed back in the infirmary. He had no recollection whatsoever of his drunken spell slinging spree, the accidental magical riot, or most mortifying of all calling Professor McGonagall ‘Professor Kitty’. At first, he flat out denied the accusation, especially since Marlene was laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes. But one glance at Lily, who winced and gave a small, apologetic nod, confirmed the worst: he had said it. Rick buried his face in his hands, groaning in abject humiliation as Marlene cackled in the background.

After receiving firm reassurance that he wasn’t in trouble, and that no permanent staff vendettas had been declared, Rick dragged himself back to the Gryffindor common room, cradling a headache of mythic proportions. The warm firelight and familiar crimson furnishings did little to soothe the throbbing in his skull. Things only worsened the moment he stepped inside and was greeted by an all too familiar, annoyingly smug voice.

“Hey Wald! Finally out of the infirmary?”

It would have been a relatively nice thing to ask about if Potter didn’t have a smug smile on his face and if his tone hadn’t been mocking.

“Quite observant, Potter.” Rick replied, wincing at the loud voice; his head aching even more. He didn’t pay any more attention to the boy than that, making his way to the stairs leading up to the boys dorm.

“That’s what happen when you don’t know how to play quid-”

Potter froze mid step, his eyes wide with surprise as his body went rigid, arms locking stiffly at his sides like a malfunctioning toy soldier. Then, with all the grace of a felled statue, he toppled backward and hit the floor with a solid thud, completely immobilized by the full body bind.

“Who the fuck di-”

“I did, got a problem with that, Black?”

Sirius shut up mid sentence when he turned and found himself staring down the tips of over a dozen wands, all pointed straight at him. Standing at the front of the group was a seventh year named Abigail Cadburry, the very one who had effortlessly dropped Potter with a body bind. Her prefect badge glinted with authority, and her eyes narrowed with the sharp promise of retribution if Sirius so much as blinked wrong.

“Girls, bring Wald to his bed.” the brown haired ordered to which Marlene and Lily obeyed without question. “Now listen up Black and you as well Potter. Wald is off limits.”

“One spell, one prank against him and we’re going to make your years at Hogwarts very unpleasant.” added a fifth year seating on the other side of the room. He too had his wand out.

“I swear if you piss him off, you will be the ones cleaning shit up this time. Points be damned.” muttered a third year, reading next to a window.

“We’re damn lucky to have survive Professor McGonagall being called Professor Kitty, no-fucking-body is going to tempt fate again by pissing Mad Wald off. Do you bloody understand Black? You, Potter and your friends?” Cadbury finished.

Bringing his hands up in mock surrender and flashing a tight, uneasy smile, Sirius took in the sea of fiercely protective faces surrounding him. The sheer number of wands trained on him, and the no nonsense look in Abigail Cadburry’s eyes, made it clear this wasn’t the time for his usual bravado. He nodded quickly, his voice wisely absent as he acknowledged that pushing any further would end very, very badly for him.

“Then pick that arsehole that you call a friend and scram.”

You didn’t have to tell him and his friends twice. Sirius and Lupin grabbed James under the arms, hauling him up like a particularly smug sack of potatoes, and hurried him out of the common room with Pettigrew scampering behind. Only once they were well out of sight did the tense atmosphere finally deflate, and one by one, everyone lowered their wands and let out the collective breath they'd been holding.

“Crisis averted.” Abigail said and only then everyone relaxed.

“I lived it and I still can’t believe Wald… I mean he’s so nice all the time! He's a good kid!” her friend in front of her said.

“To be fair, he was drunk as hell. Anyone would have had a strong reaction with how much Longbottom made him drink. And it’s not like he was really nasty about it. None of the spells he used were harmful. He reminded me of my little brother on sugar rush who just wants to play.”

“Well, thankfully we won’t have to deal with that for much longer.”

“Speak for yourself! Not all of us are in seventh year!” a fifth year said from behind.

“Sucks to be you!”

In the following weeks, Rick was largely left in peace by his fellow Gryffindors. His legendary Quidditch performance had earned him plenty of house points in the popularity department, but the memory of his magically drunken rampage kept some students at arm’s length. Hogwarts’ rumor mill, of course, went into overdrive. By Friday, everyone had heard some version of what had gone down in the Gryffindor common room, some more accurate than others. Most believed the tale.

The few who didn’t were, predictably, Slytherins, particularly the ones still smarting from the public trouncing their team received at Rick’s hands. Their resentment quickly mutated into insults, flung with the subtlety of a thrown dungbomb. Rick, true to form, shrugged it all off with his usual indifference. That is, until mid December, when Mulciber, a Slytherin in his year, crossed a line so thoroughly that Marlene’s fury nearly set the snow outside ablaze. Even Potter and his usual band of mischief makers stepped in. They weren’t needed, though. Rick had already handled it.

“That’s okay, Marlene. Calling me a mudblood is the only way Mulciber can feel proud about himself. He certainly can’t regarding academics or looks. Not surprising when he has only air between the ears. I mean he and his friends are so inbred that they’re closer to a sandwich than human beings so I doubt you’ll find a brain in their heads or an ounce of talent.”

His razor sharp retort triggered a chorus of snorts, giggles, and wide eyed stares; some students burst into laughter while others were left slack jawed, struggling to decide if they were more shocked by the insult’s precision or its poetic brutality.

“WHAT DID YOU SAY, MUDBLOOD?!”

“Do you need me to repeat it? Is it because the words are too complicated for you or because I spoke too fast? I can change one of you into a dictionary- Protego!”

The dark purple spell Mulciber hurled at Rick seemed to crawl through the air, at least, to Rick's sharply tuned senses. He had cast his shield charm the instant Mulciber's wand twitched and his mouth began to move. The barrier shimmered to life just in time, intercepting the curse with a brief flash of violet sparks before it disintegrated into nothingness, leaving behind only a faint shimmer of dissipated magic in the air.

“For someone born in the magical world that was such a pathetic display. Are you sure I’m the one with mud in my blood?”

Two more spells flew from Mulciber, joined by additional hexes from his cronies, who flanked him with all the subtle menace of a second rate ambush. The only one who refrained from casting was Snape, lurking at the back with the tense posture of someone who wanted no part in the fallout, likely because Lily stood firmly at Rick’s side.

Rick’s shield charm had expanded wide enough to form a protective arc around both her and Marlene, shimmering faintly under the cascade of dark magic. The other Gryffindors had their wands raised, poised to retaliate in a heartbeat, when the greenhouse door burst open with a sharp creak that sliced through the tension like a blade. Professor Sprout stood in the doorway, eyes narrowing as she took in the chaos before her. It took her less than a second to assess the situation, and she did not look amused.

“YOU WILL STOP THIS INSTANT!”

She had drawn her wand and disarmed the Slytherins students.

“What is the meaning of this?!” she asked the children and getting no answer, asked Lily who she knew as someone studious and honest. She could also have asked Rick but clearly he was in on it since he still had his shield charm up.

“Mulciber called Rick by using the M-word, professor. Then he began to use curses when Rick showed he didn’t care about it. As you can see, Rick defended himself with a shield charm.” at which she looked at Rick meaningfully. The shield charm was a sixth year spell after all and she wondered when he had learned it.

Sprout’s gaze moved from Lily to Rick, then to the shimmering remnants of the shield charm still flickering between them, and finally to the group of not wand wielding Slytherins. It didn’t take a Legilimens to piece together the scene, Rick had clearly been defending himself, and she had seen more than enough to know where the blame lay. With barely a twitch of emotion, she stripped twenty points from Slytherin for every student caught with wand in hand, her voice as firm as stone.

The total, one hundred and twenty points, landed like a thunderclap. Those six students, wide eyed and red faced, were promptly instructed to report to Professor Slughorn without their wands, each march of shame heavier than the last. What followed was one of the most painfully awkward herbology lessons in recent memory. Lily partnered with Severus as usual, but there was a stormcloud hanging over their table. Her posture was stiff, her words clipped. Severus, for his part, was unusually silent, his jaw set in a hard line, and every glance he shot toward Rick brimming with quiet fury and tightly coiled resentment.

“Okay, I’ve been restraining myself for more than a year but I can’t anymore. Snape is creepy.” Marlene whispered to Rick.

“I know.”

“Why does Lily see in him?”

“He’s her childhood friend.”

“That’s not enough in my opinion! The guy is a bully that hangs out with Mulciber and those blood purists! He can’t be nice. Just look at the way he looks at you!”

“Potter looks at me the same way.”

“Exactly! That’s my whole point! Lily is going to get hurt by hanging with him!”

“Perhaps but it’s her choice, Mar. I don’t think she will take it well if you tell her what you think of her friend.”

“I? We.” she corrected.

“No, you. I couldn’t care less about him. If Lily wants to keep being friends with him then I’ll support her, just like I’ll support her if he hurts her.”

“When. Not if. When he hurts her.”

Rick took a moment for himself and looked at the direction of Lily and Snape. The slytherin was helping her add dirt to the huge flower pot they had in front of them.

“You’re right. When.” Rick nodded in agreement. “Unless something changes, it’s when.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Snape is a half blood in the house of the pureblood. I don’t think he has it as good there as we do in Gryffindor. Add to that Potter and Black stupid hatred and bullying and I wouldn’t be surprised if he chose the sandwiches over Lily just for self preservation. At the very least. Hell, his friendship with Lily, a muggle born and a Gryffindor must put him in hot waters already. So unless he stops hanging out with the idiots for Lily once and for all… It’s when. Either way, we’ll be there for her.”

“We will.” Marlene answered with conviction.

No more incidents of the sort happened for the remainder of the calendar year. Lily, predictably, hounded Rick about the shield charm he’d used, where he’d learned it, when, and how. Rick, still a bit sheepish about the whole thing, admitted that he vaguely remembered seeing some upper year students casting it during his chaotic, drunken escapade. Curious, he’d tracked down Eva Johnson afterward, asked for the name of the spell, and buried himself in the library to master it. It took time and more than a few singed pages, but he’d eventually learned to produce a solid shield, imperfect, sure, and incapable of redirecting spells yet, but reliable enough in a pinch. At Marlene and Lily’s request, he taught them the charm during their shared free periods, determined that they too would be able to defend themselves if needed. Just in case.

Lily had learned from Snape that Aticus Bulstrode would not be returning to Hogwarts. Though he had survived his injuries, it was clear that something in his mind hadn’t quite recovered. The details were vague, but the implication was chilling, he was no longer the same person. That, more than anything, explained the simmering rage Slytherin House directed at Rick. Troubled by the news, Lily turned to Marlene, uncertain whether to tell their friend or spare him the burden. To her shock, Marlene didn’t even hesitate.

“Lily, Rick is kind to everyone until they prove to be an arse. Then they don’t matter to him one bit. He probably won’t care about Bulstrode. Not after what he did during the game.”

“But! That’s his fault!”

“Whose and what fault?”

Rick had joined them at their usual spot in the common room, the coffee table in front of the fireplace, a haven of flickering warmth and cozy routine. He was freshly showered, steam still rising faintly from his hair, the faint scent of soap and wind clinging to him from two grueling hours of Quidditch training. The moment he flopped into the armchair, a tired but contented sigh escaped him, his limbs heavy with exhaustion but his mind clearer than it had been all day.

“Nothing!” / “Yours and that Bulstrode is a retard now.”

“Marlene!” the redhead shouted in protestation and betrayal.

“Oh.” was the neutral exclamation Rick gave. “Shame. But no, I don't feel guilty or responsible one bit if that’s what you wondered, Lily. Bulstrode knew the risks of playing quidditch and made his choice when he chose to follow me down. It’s entirely on him. Did I bait him? Yes but I didn’t force him. He chose to take the bait.”

“Rick! That’s-”

“Lily.” He interrupted her sharply. “Should I feel guilty for other students being angry or sad or miserable because I rank first place? Should I feel guilty for how bad the other students felt when they failed in getting the seeker position when I did? Should I feel guilty for Mulciber and his friends for reacting the way they did?”

“Well, no bu-.”

“It’s the same, Lily. I’m not responsible for how other people choose to feel and act. I’m not responsible for Bulstrode’s current situation either. I feel a bit sorry for the guy to be honest, despite the fact that he was an arse but I won’t lose sleep over it. If we start caring and blaming ourselves for how people deal with what we do, we’re never going to sleep again or be happy in life. You’re only responsible for your own choices and their consequences, Lily.”

Lily stayed silent, her gaze fixed on her hands resting quietly in her lap. The logic in Rick’s words made perfect sense, too much sense, but her heart refused to align with it. The conflict showed in the downward tilt of her head and the slight tremble in her shoulders. Noticing her quiet distress, Rick rose without a word and crossed the space between them. For the first time since they'd met, he embraced her properly, arms wrapping around her with quiet firmness, no bravado, no hesitation. The chaotic tackle hug during his firewhisky fueled meltdown didn’t count, not even close. This was deliberate, real, and impossibly gentle.

“That doesn’t mean we have to be selfish either. If I do something whose consequences end up upsetting or hurting you or Marlene, despite your reaction being your own choice, I would never forgive myself.” he said resting his chin on her shoulder. “It’s great that you care so much, Lily. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise despite what I said. I just think you need to learn to not care as much about strangers as you do the people important to you. Don’t misunderstand me however. That you’re always worrying about me on a broom or how I would react to Bulstrode’s fate means the world to me, you know? Nobody ever did that before.”

Marlene wrapped her arms around both of them, completing the embrace with a warmth that grounded the moment rather than intensified it. It wasn’t strictly necessary, Lily’s mood had already begun to lift, buoyed by the quiet realization that she was the first person Rick had ever felt genuinely cared for him. That truth alone had cracked something open inside her. His hug had jolted her in the best way, a visceral confirmation that his words weren’t just hollow sentiment, they were real, lived, and felt. And with it came the confirmation of something she'd quietly suspected ever since Amelia confided Rick’s orphan status: he wasn’t just grateful for their friendship, he cherished it, deeply and profoundly.

“No one cared?”

“Before Marlene and you? No one.”

“So we can talk about this, now?” said Marlene, from Lily’s other side.

“About what?” replied Rick, raising his head from Lily’s shoulder to look at his blonde friend.

“Your familial situation.”

“Not much to talk about since I don’t have any. I’m an orphan and live in a small orphanage in London. Because of accidental magic, the children and caretakers avoid me and don’t care much if at all. There is Miss Willson, the caretaker in charge, who is polite and care but more out of a sense of duty than anything. That’s about it. It’s not really a taboo subject.” he answered nonchalantly, putting his chin on Lily’s head this time.

“We’ve been walking on eggshells about it for months!”

“It’s not like there is anything worth talking about and I didn’t want you to feel awkward. That’s why I never really said anything.”

Lily extricated herself from his embrace and looked at him in surprise. "You’re talking as if it doesn’t matter.”

“It used to but I accepted my situation. I didn’t lose my parents, I never knew them to begin with and arrived at the orphanage as a baby. I grew up seeing many children getting adopted and many children who didn’t. I wasn’t part of the lucky ones and since it's outside my control, I chose to focus on something else instead of hoping endlessly in vain. The isolation is hard but I’m not as miserable as you think I am or were.”

“You… don’t wonder who your parents were or…”

“Not really, no. Either they’re dead and there is not much of a point or they abandoned me and there is no point at all. I mean, sure, I’d like to know my real name and who I am but it’s more out of curiosity than a desire to reconnect with any family out there if there is. I’m more interested in one day making my own family than searching for my lost one.”

“Wait! Are you saying your name isn’t Rick Wald?” Marlene cut in.

“It’s my legal name. The one I was given at the orphanage but not my birth name. Although it’s possible my parents never named me in the first place I suppose. I should have had by default my father’s last name or my mother’s maiden name however. Look, those are questions I’ll never get answers to, what’s the point of spending time searching for them? None. And it’s not like knowing would change me, no? I won’t suddenly become an idiot or short or something else. I would still be me.”

Both girls looked at him in contemplative silence, letting the weight of Rick’s words sink in. There was a quiet finality to his reasoning, a hard earned clarity forged from years of quiet disappointment. As much as their hearts balked at the idea of giving up on such fundamental questions, they couldn’t deny the truth in what he said. Chasing shadows, hoping for answers that may never come, or worse, answers that would only bring pain, felt less noble in the face of his steady resolve to build something new instead.