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ALBANY'S WEEK OF DETENTION HAD ENDED sooner than she found herself wanting it to, and somehow, each day was passing a little faster, too. She had been hoping for the year to make a turnaround following the triumph she'd been expecting of her prank, but such a drastic change in her spirits had been somewhat unprecedented; she had gone from detention, voices in her head and being the victim of a prank, to more detention, an extra set of parents and responsibilities, and becoming the prankster. The change didn't sound too amazing on paper, but the uplift in her mood felt nearly unfamiliar, something she hadn't experienced in far too long. It was welcomed. Her head reeled with the influx of happy hormones, leaving her a little dizzy at the end of each day, but she was far from complaint. Only two weeks into the school year and it had been a roller-coaster ride compared to previous years, throwing in another loop every time she thought she knew what was coming.

She didn't want to give too much credit to the Weasley twins, but she had to acknowledge that she had perhaps underestimated them. Not as pranksters, but as people - as friends. Being forced to spend at least an hour together every evening for a week meant that she was bound to either hate them or befriend them by the end, and though she would never tell them, she was glad it was the latter.

Merlin and Arthur had also eased up on her. She wasn't sure if it was because they felt bad, or were finally acknowledging that she was a seventeen-year-old who didn't really want anything to do with her destiny or soulmate, but either way, she enjoyed their company far more when they weren't pestering her about it all. She didn't need any ominous warnings about war or hidden power; she just wanted to graduate, become an Auror and get on with life. Though she had a feeling that that wasn't going to be an option anymore, she appreciated that they weren't constantly reminding her.

Albany's four new acquaintances meant that she rarely found herself alone anymore. While the ghosts could appear at her side at any moment, the twins seemed to be everywhere at once, and she was constantly bumping into them. It was refreshing to see people she could smile at in the corridors, as opposed to the usual instinctive glares she shot, and it was often enough that they'd stop to exchange a few words when they saw each other. Restoring a classroom together could do that to people, she supposed.

One day she found herself unaccompanied by any of her small circle of friends, sitting in a round window on one of the upper floors of the castle. It looked out on the lake, which was a dull grey under the thick cloud cover that morning. There weren't many students milling around outside as the weather got colder and more miserable; oh, the joys of living in Britain. Faith was already suffering a bad cold from the return to living in close proximity with hundreds of other students, and the depressing weather did nothing to help. The Slytherin dorms were freezing come winter, and were already getting colder by the day.

She had her knees pulled up, a short length of parchment resting on them, and was nibbling on the tip of her quill as she stared outside. She'd purchased so many sugar quills that she didn't bother saving them for purely class or homework; this was intended to be a letter back to her parents, who had owled her the morning of her prank. She'd nearly forgotten about the letter, only for Faith finding it under her bed as she frantically cleaned the dorm room that morning - she was supposed to be bedridden, as per Madam Pomfrey's orders, but the girl hated nothing more than being stuck in bed.

Despite the length - or lack thereof - of Albany's first letter home, her mother and father always found a way to ask more questions than she was willing to answer. She couldn't recall a time when they hadn't worried incessantly about her, but supposed that before her brother's passing they hadn't been so frustratingly protective. She gripped her quill a little harder at the thought, and accidentally bit off the end of it.

"I don't really think you're supposed to eat them," George said.

She flinched, and the parchment in her lap drifted to the ground as she shot the approaching redhead a glare.

"Gotcha," he teased her with a broad grin. He had small dimples in his freckled cheeks when he smiled, and the twinkle in his eyes shone a little brighter.

"Did not," Albany argued, folding her arms. She stuck out her tongue at him childishly, though his grin only widened.

George kneeled to pick up her parchment, and offered it back to her. When Albany made a grab for it, he snatched it just out of her reach with a laugh, before properly handing it to her. "You jumped about a foot, I definitely got you," he insisted cheekily, as Albany glared at him.

"Where's your brother?" she asked instead, deciding a change of subject wouldn't harm anyone.

"Which one?"

She rolled her eyes as he chuckled. "Percy," she said sarcastically, and then stared dead at him. "Fred, George. Where's Fred?"

George pouted at her, and sat down in one smooth movement into the windowsill opposite her. "Am I not good enough on my own?"

"No, but if you're separated, it means one of two things."

"And what are those?"

"Either you're up to something, or Fred is."

George laughed. "That's fair," he said with a smile. "Not this time, though. Well, at least not up to something that you have to worry about."

Albany quirked an eyebrow. "Oh?"

George looked positively mischievous as he nodded, beaming at her. Albany stared back at him, corners of her lips curving.

"Do I get to know?" she pressed, curious.

George pressed his lips together thoughtfully. "Well... considering you're not an official member of our prank squad...."

"What about an official member of the classroom renovation squad?"

George met her gaze, grinning. "Alright," he relented, and Albany felt a small bit triumphant as she waited expectantly. "Fred might not want me to tell anyone while we're still working on it, but I suppose everyone will know anyway when it's done."

"Well, spill the beans, then."

"We're brewing an Ageing Potion."

Albany blinked at him, bewildered. "An Ageing- what the hell for?"

"Haven't you seen?"

Albany narrowed her eyes. "Seen what?"

"The sign, in the entrance hall," George explained gleefully, hazel eyes shining. "The other schools will be arriving for the tournament next Friday. That means we'll be able to enter soon!"

Albany felt her eyes widen a fraction; with all that had happened already this year, she'd nearly forgotten about the biggest event. The Triwizard Tournament. She felt her heart flutter in her chest with a sudden flare of excitement, before she took in the latter part of George's explanation, and then she couldn't prevent her face from falling. "You're entering?" she echoed, and George nodded, ecstatic. That explained the Ageing Potion, then, because she knew the twins' birthday was the first of April - a fitting date - and they were hardly turning eighteen during their sixth year. "But don't you-" she trailed off, blue gaze falling to the floor.

George's energetic excitement seemed to calm as he took in her expression, bemused. "You're not going to snitch on us, right?" he asked, looking suddenly concerned. "Because Fred and Lee really will kill me."

"No," Albany assured him quickly, and met his hazel eyes again briefly, trying to smile. "Sorry, nevermind me."

George frowned. "What is it?"

Albany bit her cheek, and turned to the window again, debating whether or not to speak up. "It's a little dangerous, isn't it?" she said meekly, and tentatively looked back at him.

George smiled, then, and laughed a little bit. "Well, yeah, but the prize is a thousand Galleons, isn't it?" he chuckled. "I reckon that's worth a lot more than whatever danger I'd be putting myself in."

Albany shrugged, and glanced outside again. A younger student had just fallen into the edge of the lake, and his two friends were laughing and pointing. "I guess," she sighed, and then sat up suddenly, shaking her head as if to snap out of it. "Not to be a downer. I just know that I for one would certainly die if I was chosen, and I'm of age to enter."

George raised his eyebrows at her. "You are?"

"Don't get any ideas," she snapped hastily, though grinned. "Just keep brewing your little potions, and I might root for you when you become Hogwarts Champion."

George positively beamed at her. "Your support is appreciated, Albany," he said with a broad grin, and she felt a small warmth in her chest as he used her name. "You know, I think you'd make a fine Gryffindor."

Albany raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Yup," George replied cheerily, popping the p.

"Any specific reason?"

"You don't seem like a Slytherin to me," he said, smiling.

Albany looked at him. "We're not all elitist pureblooded bigots," she said. "Some of us are, sure-"

"Like Malfoy," George interrupted.

"Yes, precisely. I'm not sure why he represents the whole house, but we're mostly normal people."

George shrugged. "I still stand by what I said."

Albany rolled her eyes in amusement. "Course you do," she said, and then her gaze fell to the parchment in her lap, and she found herself nibbling on the quill again thoughtfully. "Say, do you know what to write in a letter so that my parents won't kill me for a really late reply?"

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Albany wasn't sure if she was excited or dreading the arrival of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang as the day crept closer. She knew that almost everyone in the school was thrilled for the tournament; the atmosphere all across the castle was electric with anticipation, and Viola and Zoe had been talking animatedly about it all morning, hoping that they'd get to miss a whole load of classes in the coming weeks. She wanted to share in their delight, but couldn't help but feel a little disheartened. The thought of Fred and George entering - well, she didn't want to say she was worried, but the tournament hadn't been run in years for a reason.

She felt slightly alienated from her peers, unable to participate fully in the lively conversations. The Weasley twins weren't the only ones expressing interest in entering underage; Faith seemed eager to try, though admittedly wasn't quite as dedicated as the Gryffindors, as she was currently without a plan. Ironic, Albany thought, that she was the only one of her friends old enough to enter, and the only one who didn't have any intentions to do so.

Naturally, she found herself confiding in the two people who could do absolutely nothing about any of it.

"I'm not worried," she insisted, folding her arms. She was alone in the dormitories, as Faith finally had been allowed to leave after her cold had run its course. "I just think the whole tournament is a bad idea. They can hardly make it completely safe, because that's not going to be entertaining for hundreds of reckless teenagers to watch."

"I think it's a brilliant idea," Arthur said brightly, hands on his hips. "I would've loved to do something like that at your age. We had jousting, but that gets repetitive."

Albany stared at him. "Brilliant?" she echoed, baffled by his logic. "People have literally died, why on earth would they bring it back?"

"Interschool relationships," Merlin said with a shrug. "It'll be a great chance to make new friends, and broaden your understanding of other cultures."

"And watch students die," Albany said grimly.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think you're being just a little bit dramatic about all of this?"

"Oh, you're one to talk," Albany shot back, a little defensively. "Drama queen."

"I am not-"

"It's not the tournament that's bothering you, though," Merlin interrupted with a kind smile.

Albany stared at him, confused. "Of course it is," she said. "It's a bit brutal, honestly, there's no need for it."

Merlin's deep blue gaze met her own, and as she understood what he was implying, she shook her head vigorously.

"No, that's not it," she informed him sharply.

Arthur was glancing between them with his eyebrows knitted together, evidently at a loss for what was going on between the two.

"Are you sure?" Merlin asked her teasingly, a smug smirk growing on his face.

"Yes," Albany said hotly.

"Am I missing something here?" Arthur interrupted, apparently feeling left out in his confusion. "Do you two have some sort of telepathic connection, along with everything else?"

The two ignored him.

"It's them you're worried about," Merlin said.

Albany bit her cheek, frustrated. "I told you, I'm not worried!"

"Do you know how we can find your soulmate?" the dark-haired wizard asked suddenly.

"I - what does that have to do with anything?"

Merlin's eyes twinkled. "I think you know," he said with a grin.

Realisation flooded her features, and she shot the ghost a threatening glare. "Absolutely not."

"I'm still lost," Arthur piped up. He continued to be ignored.

"Now that we've established our connection," Merlin explained, "your connection to your soulmate will also strengthen. More than likely, you will meet them within a year, and you'll naturally be inclined towards each other."

"It's definitely not one of them," Albany said firmly. "Besides, they're pureblooded, and Arthur's a Muggle."

"God, I've always hated that word," Arthur complained loudly, in hopes that they would notice, or at least acknowledge him. It didn't work.

"That doesn't necessarily mean they're unrelated," Merlin said. "It's been centuries. Arthur's descendant could be anyone, anywhere."

"Then what are the chances?" Albany challenged. "They've got five other siblings and they're in the middle, so why would it be one of them anyway?"

Merlin shrugged. "Magic works in mysterious ways," he said, which didn't help at all. "In some ways, it has a mind of its own. I don't even fully understand it."

"Great, that's fucking brilliant," Albany huffed. "Hate to do it to you, but it's not either of them. I can tell."

"Oh?" Merlin said, quirking an eyebrow.

"Yeah, it's my soulmate, I think I would know."

"Regardless," Merlin said, "Arthur and I are obligated to suspect anyone you grow particularly close to in the coming months."

"Oh, now I'm involved?" Arthur piped up, arms folded childishly.

"Wonderful," Albany said, voice dripping in sarcasm.

"I know it sounds kind of invasive," Merlin admitted, looking sheepish, "but this is vital. We're going to see if we can bridge a connection with either of them, though it will take time."

"Let me know when you realise I'm right," Albany said drily. All this fuss, just because she was worried - not that she was worried at all; Fred and George could surely handle themselves. Merlin's saggy left tit, she would forever despise destiny.